#which is. for lack of phrase. fucking insane!

[isaacathom]

on naielle odelia, florian de kasimir, and the idea of sacrifice

naielle is a celestial warlock. she's a backliner, a combination support and damage.

florian is a man at arms, a soldier, armed with sword and shield. a front liner, a tank, a consistent damage dealer.

being in the front lines means risk is always present. and florian considers it his duty, his obligation, to remain. he considers the idea of fleeing first to be a violation of his job.

he is deeply afraid. he always is. but he has to be the first and final line of defence.

when he was killed, time froze, and he saw the state of his friends, battered and near death. he saw the monster that stood before them.

he had once taken great umbrage with a man who had made an ill-thought out deal with the devil.

and when push came to shove, and the devil held out his hand, florian took it. because if he didnt, his friends would die. it wouldve been a waste.

naielle's devil hangs over her head, a sword of damocles. you are a healer, aren't you? the front line will fall without you. you must run in, and you must help them.

her devil is not her patron. her devil is herself.

florian is constantly aware of the danger he is in, and considers himself illsuited to all of it, and simultaneously suited to nothing else. all he can be is a sharp object pointed at a villain. when mauled near death, watching the party's witcher fall, he ordered the retreat, and unable to stand still tried to protect the party doctor's spirit.

naielle forgets her own risk. she sees the threat posed to someone else, the blood that issues forth, and she sees the solution held in her hands. she would be a failure not to administer it. withholding the cure from the dying would go against everything she tries to believe and hold herself to. she does not balance it with the idea that her premature death might leave things worse. its the now, now, now.

she'll defend the man defending her, even if he says she shouldnt.

when the mission came down to it, and the devil's plans laid bare, florian considered it his moral duty to lay down his life. he could not stomach to kill the woman who had brought him here, to betray her so utterly. but for the party priest, he paused. because to give up himself, to act as Emelia's final defence, he would doom the priest. The two would either die at the traitors hands, or by a devil collecting on unkept promises.

he couldnt sacrifice himself to doom another, to doom a man in service to a woman he hadn't met and owed no alleigance too. florian could not demand that of him, and thus could not give of it himself, much as he wanted to.

he was forced to live, and to see her die, and to know he'd failed.

naielle hasn't reached that crux yet. the mountains peak lies high above, and many descending tracks offer solutions from this vantage, though they may lead simply to deep ravines.

for her to give herself to her patron, to play the numbers game, she would save many. she would damn herself, damn her sister, damn her twin brother, her wife, her mother, her father. all the people she's met and known, ill and well, would be hurt. depending on the relationship, on the timing, she might even kill them.

but naielle would play the numbers game. its an easy game at that scale - a world, or an elf? she'd like both. but maybe her goal, to do good, necessitates giving up the opportunity to see that good done, and only to know it was.

after his betrayal, he heads north. he has loose ends to attend to. peoples lives to try and fix. a war to join. he expected to die in that war, as he expected to die in that manor, as he did in that forest, as he thought the griffin might, like the previous war had thought to.

he doesnt die. the war spits him out, like it had before.

and he stands on a rural farm, holding out tools for the farmer reparing the fence, and he wonders:

why did he always try to throw it away?

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3

John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?

Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.

This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.

My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.

John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?

“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.

And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.

Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.

Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?

Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.

Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.

Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.

John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.

Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.

John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.

John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.

You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.

Biconic quote.

Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then

I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”

What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.

Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.

And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.

Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.

"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.

John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.

John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.

Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.

No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.

Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”

Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”

How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”

“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.

But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.

But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.

“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”

[oscconfessions]

Stupid and incomprehensible (/srs) ii rant incoming. This post was fact checked by REAL American patriots ✅✅✅

The people that are shitting on ii and saying it's ruined are so fucking funny to me. No, ii16/ii17 wasn't contradictory or out of character. You literally just created your own story in your head and then got mad when it didn't come to fruition. Like dawg that was all you. You created your own problems to be mad at. Just admit your interpretations were wrong. It's not that hard.

NO BUT YOU GUYS ARE SO FUCKING MISERABLE. IT'S A KID'S SHOW. GROW UP. YEAH IT'S NOT FUCKING SHAKESPEARE BUT YOU'RE ACTING LIKE THE FINALE IS THE WORST THING THAT'S EVER GRACED THE EARTH. You guys can't enjoy ANYTHING AND IT SHOWS. "Oh my godd my sugar plum is SO out of character!! The twist came from NOWHERE" are you on the writing team? Have you been planning this for a DECADE? No?? Shut up. Your writing opinions are about as valuable as five Nickel plushies. Just please shut the fuck up. It's not even that they're objectively wrong, it's that they're so fucking annoying. Like the confidently wrong "if you think differently you have no media literacy" type of annoying. I'm in like five other different fandoms and none of them make me feel drained after interacting with them like the ii fandom. Yes I'm separating them from the osc entirely cause they're a different breed. Hell, the ONE community reacted better to their ending than how ii fans are rn. Which is saying a lot because iykyk.

HOWEVER. I am NOT saying I want the ii community to become an echo chamber where everyone believes that Inanimate Insanity is a gift sent down from the Gods because it isn't. There's definitely things wrong with it. And even if it was a gift sent from the God's we are NOT gonna have a massive circle jerk because our favorite show is so cool.

Again, however, the criticism that ii receives isn't even criticism. It's just people bitching and moaning and it's so draining reading their massive walls of text because they're so fucking CONDESCENDING. Oh yeah you're definitely superior because your take on why the past two episodes are the worst lemme just bend over and suck your dick because that's what you want right?? To blow smoke up your ass and say that you're so amazing and smart and that everyone who disagrees with you lacks media literacy?? I FUCKING HATE THE PHRASE MEDIA LITERACY AND I'VE ONLY STARTED HATING IT BECAUSE YOU GUYS GOT YOUR GREASY FINGERS ONTO IT.

Anyways that's it. I've definitely talked about this before but idc people need to stop being miserable and start frolicking in the flowers. Yes, recognize that your favorite show has flaws, but get your head out of your ass and stop having a superiority complex. And stop making shit up in your head. Write an au fanfic or something instead idk just stop whining about how the show is somehow wrong. You people were literally complaining about ii17 the same day it came out. Why do you have so much hate in your heart.

Btw it's late for me. These are just all of my unfiltered thoughts so I'm like really annoying rn and I definitely would have worded this better but idc lol. Definitely going anon for this one.

[bugeater101]

Telepathy

Synopsis: Game night takes a turn when you're coerced to tell your friends your favourite things to do in the bedroom. Albeit embarrassing, you happily spring at the chance to show your non-conservative side. Yet, the truth is, you do so only because you want Hyunjin to see it. Luckily, when you run into him later that night, you realize the embarrassment had been worth it; it's as if he can read your mind as he gives you all you have dreamed of.

Content: brief mentions of physical insecurities and lack of love life, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, switch!Hyunjin (lots of subwhiningdesperatebabyboy!Hyunjin), switch!reader, slight perv!reader, thigh fucking!!1!!!1!1!, nipple play, lotssssssss of teasing, mating press, unprotected sex (DON'T DO THIS), excessive begging, cum painting, thick/fat/curvy/plus size! reader (as always :]).

Word Count: 8.3k

Author's Notes: This goes out to Hyunjin, who haunts me. This also goes out to all y'all who enjoy my work! Thanks for sticking by me. I'm sorry it took so long to put something new out. It's been a hard few months with some misadventures and some great ones! But, I'm glad to be writing again! This one is for all of my followers, mutuals, anons, and those who send in requests <333 Here's to more fics and stories in 2023! Love y'all!!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z, @taekbokki,, @imtoooyoungforthisshit

"I swear to God, it's the absolute best," you laugh.

"OKAY, I BELIEVE YOU," Jeongin belted out. "Now PLEASE get off of me!"

Jeongin's hands were up in the air as if he was surrendering himself to you. Though he wasn't really afraid of you, he did fear touching you, especially since you were in such a precarious position. His eyes were clamped shut— not just from his laugh that caused his cheeks to swell his lids, but because he truly did not want to look.

None of you expected a night of drinking and games to turn out like this. It began with you, Hyunjin, Felix, Jeongin, and Han playing Mario Kart and watching a movie in a drunken, belligerent state, barely paying attention as you yelled curses and vulgarisms at the screen. However, the evening quickly took a turn when you decided to play "truth or truth".

The original "truth or dare" and the more aggressive "dare and dare" games were off the table after Felix ended up in the ER with a chipped tooth after Jeongin dared him to do a backflip while drunk. Needless to say, "truth or dare" had hit the end of its shelf life. So, you guys were happy to play the modified version. Yet, combined with your inebriated state, the game of "truth or truth" always quickly devolved into asking strictly invasive and borderline insane questions. In other words, all questions were related to each others' sex lives (or lack thereof). It was Han's turn, and, of course, he had to ask you what had been bothering him.

"What do girls like in the bedroom?" he slurred out. "But, like, you, specifically?"

"Who the fuck phrases a question like that?" Jeongin hiccuped out.

"Literally," Felix laughed.

"Shutthefuckup! Let her answer!" Jisung shouted in response, stringing his words together. Regardless of your apprehensions about the question, you laughed at the drunken man in an attempt to ease yourself.

Since you were adamant about Han's rather perverted question, you considered passing. You knew the boys would allow you to pass with little complaint, especially considering that it's a rather personal inquiry. The only catch is that you would then be forced to complete a dare in exchange for your liberation (which you were extremely against knowing that the last time you completed a dare, you had to go to physiotherapy for five weeks).

And, frankly, you couldn't deny the benefits of answering Han's question: you would get to show the boys a side of you that you keep so well hidden. Truthfully, it sounded... freeing.

All the boys seeing you like this, straddling a mutual friend you would never see as more than strictly platonic ... it made you feel giddy. Yet, you knew you weren't thinking about all the boys; you were thinking about one boy in particular. One boy that you've had your eye on for quite some time, actually.

With that in mind, you decided to say "yes".

Hyunjin was eyeing you as you pretended to seduce Jeongin, giggling stiffly as you hyped yourself to complete your challenge. You glanced at Hyunjin any chance you got, hoping to gauge his reaction to every little thing you did.

Yet, with every little thing you did, Hyunjin stood still. Even when you finally clamoured on Jeongin, causing him to whine and make the room scream, Hyunjin was the only one to remain silent. Jeongin dug his fingers into the couch, adverted his eyes like he was a sinner and you were God, and prayed for forgiveness. You even had to slightly grind your hips to show the boys what you meant when you were explaining what you liked. And, yet, Hyunjin remained solemn.

Every act you performed made this "truth" feel more like a "dare". Still, you persisted. You wanted Hyunjin to look—and not just stare blankly, but truly see you.

Though he was across the room from you, you could still dream that he had switched places with Jeongin. Imagining he was underneath you instead, digging his hands into your ass as he urged you to "please, go faster y/n" as the little whines escaped him. All the while, his friends—your friend—would exchange nervous glances, but never move. God, they were perverts too, weren't they? Getting off on seeing their friends fuck each other. You could practically see their hard-ons growing at the sight. But Hyunjin wouldn't care; he was shameless. He would beg, plead under you. Sweat beading off of his head as his tongue stuck out, panting like a mutt with every rut of your hips into his. "My Hyunjin," you thought, mouth drying at your deviance, "all for me, my needy baby."

Fuck, you interrupted yourself, ending your train of thought. Get out of my head, Hyunjin!

You couldn't start thinking about him while you were straddling a mutual friend. Not to mention you were straddling said mutual friend to show Hyunjin and two other friends the kind of fucking sex positions you enjoyed. Even though you hovered well above Jeongin—with a book even on his lap (upon both of your urgent insistence) to maintain a distance between you two and your hands hovering above him constantly—you still knew it was messed up to think of Hyunjin below you instead of Jeongin. Jeongin was only there because you guys needed someone to be the victim of your own punishment, and it just so happened that Jeongin failed to answer his own "truth". So, now the unlucky fellow was trapped under you, adverting his gaze as his ears turned red.

For now, Hyunjin needed to stay out of your mind.

Nevertheless, your mind continued to pester you with thoughts of Hyunjin. Was he looking at you right now? Of course, he was looking, but was he looking? Was he staring at you, wondering if you were telling the truth to all these horny 20-something- year-old-boys about your favourite sex positions? Did he look at you and wonder if he could suck your tits while you rode him from that angle? Was he hoping your sweat would taste so sweet mixed with his? Your cum, even?

Fuck, stop thinking about him! you urged yourself.

You tried to keep your thoughts about Hyunjin in a cramped closet in your mind. He was your friend, and you had considered the possibility of you and him numerous times and in countless situations. You always questioned if he liked you, if he ever saw you as more than a friend, or even attractive. In your own personal opinion, you were stunning. Yet, to believe that Hyunjin found you attractive was a different question. Doubt clouded your mind, and soon negative thoughts accumulated and eventually overshadowed any confidence you had in your emotions toward your Hyunnie. Now, after hours and hours of thinking (and many teary-eyed conversations with Felix), you decided that you could only ever be platonic with Hyunjin.

Whatever emotions you had towards him would have to be suppressed for the betterment of the friend group and the preservation of your friendship. Maybe that's why you're straddling Jeongin right now, insisting that it's the perfect position for a guy to suck your tits while you ride him. Maybe it's the only chance you can do such a position with Hyunjin even in the same room as you, albeit just as a voyeur to a rather uncomfortable position between friends.

Jeongin was still howling under you, almost in tears from how funny but unorthodox the situation was. It's moments like this that you truly enjoy the coyness of your friends, because in no other situation would be able to make Jeongin so utterly flustered. It made you giggle more. In fact, every screech and wail from the boy made everyone laugh harder, tears beginning to brim your eyes.

"OKAY YOU MADE YOUR POINT NOW," Jeongin cried, actual tears starting to fall from your eyes. "NOW GET OFF OF ME."

"NO, I HAVEN'T!" You hollered back, wanting to prolong Jeongin's suffering. Hyunjin was momentarily out of your mind as you put all your energy towards prolonging Jeongin's torture. "I need to explain why I like it, Innie!" You added cutesy and teasing emphasis to the nickname, purposefully teasing him in the hopes of inducing even more suffering.

"YOU DON'T NEED TO DO THAT, YOU DICK!" Jeongin cried, tears welling in his eyes. At this point, you could barely hold yourself on top of him, laughter swelling in your chest.

"I don't even get a chance to explain myself?!" You laughed evilly.

"You finished your dare, y/n," Han cackled, "Get off the poor boy!" With the little strength you could gather, you stumbled off of him, collapsing to the floor and wiping your eyes clean. Han was on the floor now too, barely breathing with each maniacal laugh. Felix was holding onto the counter now as his laughter consumed him. And, through your tears and gasps for breath, there stood Hyunjin. He seemed to be forcing out a chuckle here and there, hand on a counter in an attempt to pass as an act of relaxation. He was not dying of laughter as the four of you were (more like three considering that Jeongin might actually be dead now).

Thankfully, you couldn't focus on that. As your stomach began to cramp from giggles, your mind was absent of Hyunjin for the first time that night; it was too busy watching as Han kept bringing Felix to the ground each time he tried to help him up. The laughter almost refused to subside, a single glance causing one of you to burst into tears again.

Nevertheless, the game of "truth or truth" magically managed to resume.

Soon, Felix and Jeongin were whispering with ill intent, deciding on a question for Han as payback for his last "truths". You decided to skip the rest of the game, feeling like your turn took all your courage out of you, and opted to linger in the kitchen while Hyunjin cleaned.

"Why aren't you playing?" You asked while swinging your feet from the countertop you were situated on.

Hyunjin shook his head. "Ah, I'm tired," he responded in a simple voice. "Plus, this place is a mess." You laughed, unable to deny the state the apartment was left in after this night's bender.

Alcohol still lingered in you, yet the night was beginning to die down. So, tackling the mess now insured an easier hangover cleanup tomorrow. It made sense, sure. However, what didn't make sense was that Hyunjin was the one cleaning the place up.

"Well, living with Chan, Changbin, and Han sure has changed you, then," you commented. Hyunjin chuckled at the comment, head still down at the cup he was absent-mindedly scrubbing. He couldn't deny that he was often the one making and leaving messes.

"Maybe living with the three true fraternity boys of the group changed something in you."

"Maybe," Hyunjin responded, not offering any other commentary. You stared at his hands longer, pondering his actions.

"Why are you cleaning up?" You asked. Hyunjin stopped scrubbing and glanced up at you, almost shocked at your question, as if it was as invasive as asking him his favourite sex positions then requiring him to demonstrate in front of his closest friends. He shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"You never clean. You're the one making the messes, babe," you laughed, noticing how he perked up at the petname. "Is something up?"

Hyunjin's mouth opened to answer but nothing came out, letting the giggles of the other three boys fill the silent space instead. He shut his mouth, thought for a second, then sighed.

"Just needed to get out of the game, I guess," he said in an almost-whisper. Now it was your turn to be confused.

"Whatever do you mean?" You leaned on your palms, allowing yourself to move closer to the tall figure that was your bewitchingly attractive friend. God, you could just lean in and kiss him right now. So briefly, too. Would he even notice? You look into his eyes, searching for his thoughts, hoping he feels your telekinetic kisses.

Suddenly, Hyunjin broke the silence that had grown between you.

"Can you explain it?"

The question stunted any response you could muster. Now it was your turn to open your mouth with no sound to come out.

"What... what do you mean?" God, you sound like a broken record. You knew what he was referring to, but—if the blush on your face was evidence enough—bravery had evaded you. Hyunjin smirked and chuckled, glancing away before refocusing on you.

"You know what I mean," redness spread up his ears, making him glow. "If you don't mind me asking at least... why do you... like to straddle your partners?"

Well, if there was any way to politely ask your friends why they liked the sex positions they did, that was the way to phrase it. However, that didn't prevent you from devolving again. Muteness consumed you, the blush on your face making you wholly red.

Yet, Hyunjin didn't pull the question away. He didn't tell you it was okay if you didn't want to answer, didn't even say he wouldn't judge. Instead, he let the question hang in the air. It devoured the space between you, silence shrinking as everything seemed to grow loud. It was almost as if Hyunjin didn't retract the question because he needed to know the answer. Like he wanted to make you embarrassed, to blush for him, to make him wait because he knew that—one way or another—you would tell him.

You cleared your throat.

"I... suppose..." you began. Hyunjin leaned in, your small voice aching to be heard.

"It's, like... the closeness of it. Being held, pressed against each other... it does something." Your eyes could barely meet his, decidedly losing yourself in your thoughts to avoid eye contact with the person you dream about doing this stuff with. You could feel his gaze burn into you.

"Chest pressed against chest," you continued, your voice growing more assured but still so goddamn quiet. "Like your hoping to feel closer with every touch of skin. And you know you could never be closer to that person than you are in that moment... but, still, you ache, yearn for more. Every rut and bite is just a plea for more. And, if the person's right... you sort of feel like it's enough. Like you're enough."

The silence was now deafening. Before, a pin drop could be heard like the sound of a bell's toll. Now, it was as if the world was entirely silent, waiting for one of you to speak up. You wanted to say more, to say "and you are the right person Hyunjin, you always have been, please make me feel like I'm enough" and let him take you, fuck you right and in front of everyone, be his and him yours. Yet, your voice was gone, realizing the gravity of the words you just spoke. You tried to clear your throat in an effort to regain your speech, but it failed, and you were still silent.

However, the sound roused Hyunjin from his thoughts, alerting him of his surroundings. Though you thought he would pull away, he didn't move away; he leaned in.

"Who... who was the right person, y/n?" For the first time since your confession, you looked at Hyunjin. He was... hurt? He looked hurt, like tears could well up in his eyes and he could just bawl like an infant. And, to be frank, it made you want to cry, too.

You cleared your throat again, successfully regaining your voice this time.

"N-no one," you stuttered, slipping off of the counter and gingerly landing on your feet. "It was just... I was just thinking about what it could be like to be with... you know, the 'right person'." In an effort to emphasize your rather unsuccessful love life, you did air quotes and rolled your eyes at the last words. Hyunjin kept his head down and nodded, unable to make eye contact with you. Tonight is all about personal questions, you thought, making yourself almost chuckle.

"I'm-i'm sure the right person will come around, y/n," Hyunjin stammered. "You deserve the best, the absolute best." He started to ramble now, eyes clear but still adverting yours as he let words pour out of him without consequence.

"You deserve a proper confession, dates beyond your wildest imaginations to the humblest of comforts. You should be with someone that makes the simplest of occurrences feel special, like every day is filled with life. Someone who—even if things didn't work out—would make you a better person. Someone who would give you the whole world because they know you would take care of it. You deserve it."

His words hung around you for a second. Then another second. And Hyunjin suddenly realized all he had said.

Your heart felt like it was about to implode in your chest. It seemed like you would die if you didn't grab Hyunjin right now and tell him "the right person has come around, it's you and it will always be you. Please, look at me. See that you are the one for me, the only one I want. Please, give me your world."

Yet, you didn't. Why didn't you?

Hyunjin's words had caught up to him by now, and he aggressively gulped before staring back at the floor.

"A-anyway," he stuttered, "I'm..." he stopped himself, as if allowing himself to catch a breath before continuing. He let out a breath through his nose, "I'm positive the right person will come around, y/n."

You just nodded and stared at the ground, a grave smile being the only acknowledgment you give Hyunjin.

"I hope they do," you mumbled.

Why didn't you tell him?

---

God, what time is it?

Your head ached, the after-effects of alcohol beginning to settle in. Glancing at the blinking clock in the corner of Han's room, your blurred vision managed to catch the time.

Fuck. 4:08AM.

You figured that your hangover was what woke you; the dehydrated state of your body was obvious by the splintering headache and the desert that had settled in your throat. You probably fell asleep only a few hours ago. Now, you were shaking Han and Felix off of you, trying your best to slip out of Han's room after you guys passed out following last night's events.

Could it even be classified as "last night" when it was just 3 hours ago?

Despite the weariness of your body, you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen. Everyone was surely dead asleep, Han and Felix tangled in bed with Jeongin passed out on the floor beside them. Hyunjin slept in his room, giving an Irish Goodbye to you by leaving the living room without a word at about midnight. You couldn't lie by saying that you didn't miss his presence by the night's end.

Nevertheless, your mind was focused on one thing now: hydration. Water. Immediately. Something to make you feel alive.

Once your glass was poured and you took a sip, the water felt like the elixir of life. You chugged it greedily, feeling an instant rejuvenation as your headache felt like it was beginning to clear. This water was liquid gold.

"Y/n?"

The sudden presence of another person made you choke on the water.

"Oh shit," Hyunjin muttered as he rushed beside you and patted your back, helping you through your coughing spurt.

"Fuck," your voice cracked.

You cleared your throat again, "I didn't know anyone else was awake."

Hyunjin laughed, "I never even managed to fall asleep. Now I'm glad I got to witness your death." You shot him a glare, but it was instantly softened by noticing his light expression. God, he's handsome.

"I only choked because you startled me, asshole," you giggled through watering eyes. Hyunjin laughed too, rubbing your back as your coughing ceased.

"You good?"

"Yeah, for now," you responded. You sipped the rest of your water, finishing off the glass before pouring another. "But I'm for sure not gonna go back to sleep now." Hyunjin smiled.

"That means you can join me and my insomnia!" Hyunjin fake-cheered, making you smile and roll your eyes.

"Hooray to perpetual exhaustion," you joked dryly. Hyunjin giggled at your pain, starting to push you toward his room. Was his hand still on your back from your coughing spurt?

"Come to my room, we can talk without worrying about waking the others," he murmured. He led you to his room, shutting the door behind him as you placed your water on his desk.

"I seriously doubt we could wake them up," you laughed, allowing your voice to rise to its normal decibel now that walls separated you from the other boys. "I practically stepped on Jeongin when I left and he barely stirred. I'm pretty sure he might be dead."

Hyunjin tried not to laugh, still aware of how quite he should be.

However, after glancing at you, the laugh died in his throat. You were teasing the seams of his duvet, testing the thread count as you rubbed the fabric between your fingers. Instantly, a blush crept up on his face.

Hyunjin imagined you enjoyed the softness of his sheets; he had wanted to share them every night with you. If only you had taken his hints, seen past his nervous demeanour and realized that he wanted you so deeply and intensely. Those very sheets had witnessed their fair share of Hyunjin desperately fucking his hand every night, praying one day that you would be there instead.

Now, you were here. Alone. Waiting for him.

"Why are you still standing?" you asked.

Fuck, he had been staring. He shook his head, trying to make his dirty thoughts shake off of him like water droplets in his hair.

"Sorry," he grumbled, "might actually be more exhausted then I thought."

Suddenly, he felt your hands on his arm, tugging him away from the wall.

"Well, then get into bed," you giggled. Before he could laugh along, you suddenly jerked his arm. Hard. You had backed straight into his bed and fallen into you, pulling him with you.

"Shit!" You yelped as you bounced on the mattress, Hyunjin landing right after you. Luckily, before he could crush your body with his, his palms outstretched and he managed to catch himself. Now, he was positioned above you, eyes shut from the sudden fall.

When he opened his eyes, there you were.

He was on top of you. You were below him.

Yet, you didn't move. And neither did he.

"Shit— sorry," he stammered out, face and ears glowing red.

"I-it's okay," you muttered, "accidents happen." Your eyes looked into his, studying his face in the brief moments when they darted away from his gaze.

Hyunjin gulped. "Yeah, all the time." God, he was beautiful.

"I suppose I should get off now." You nodded slightly, the little movement of your head making it obvious how little space there was between your bodies.

"Yeah, of course," you whispered.

And again, strangely enough, neither of you made effort to move. In fact, Hyunjin, got down on his elbows, his lips only centimetres from yours.

"Was it true?" he asked out of the blue.

"W-what?" you stuttered.

"That you like being close... and..." He was starting to loose himself in you, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't losing yourself in him. You were pressed so tightly against him. Your pulse could even be felt through your plump chest, your heart practically jumping out of your ribcage, out of your chest.

"And...?" you continued, your lips ghosting over his.

"And... that no one has ever been that close to you?" He asked. You gulped.

"No... but there is someone I want to..." Your sentence trailed off.

You could hardly think now. Fuck, finish your words, you urged yourself. Say it.

You gulped. You didn't want Hyunjin to finish your words. You wanted to say it yourself. You wanted the words to leave your mouth. And, from the expression on Hyunjin's face, he wanted you to say it, too. Just as before, he let the silence rest between you, not retreating from it but letting it simmer. He refused to fill the emptiness.

"There is someone I want to be that close to me," you finally finished. Hyunjin's tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips, and you swore you could feel it ghost yours due to how close you were.

"Who, y/n?" He finally questioned.

The question was like the straw that broke the camel's back. It was as if Hyunjin's words gave you a morsel of confidence like you were magically able to tell him all you wanted to say. He had finally asked you, and thank God he did.

"You know who it is, Hyunjin," you teased, straight face. Hyunjin's eyes stared back into yours.

"Say it." He demanded, "Say their name."

You smiled.

"It's you, Hyunjin," you stated breathlessly. "It's always been you."

The words were almost like an agreement. As if your telepathic powers finally worked and Hyunjin—after countless hours of pinning—heard your pleas: fuck me Hyunjin, have me, please.

His mouth pressed into yours desperately, moans instantly leaving him from the relief of tasting you. Your reaction was eerily similar to his. Whimpers poured out of you as your hands pressed into his chest, pawing at him through the thin material of his t-shirt. Though you had waited forever to feel him like this, uninhibited by social customs that barred friends from being so close, the space your hands created between your bodies was unbearable. Instead, you rubbed up his chest and shoulders, briefly groping his muscular arms before resting your hands on his back. You then pushed into his muscular shoulder blades, pushing him further into your plump body in an attempt to bring him closer because, fuck, he could never be close enough.

"God, fuck," Hyunjin gasped as his hands tangled in your hair, his kisses messy. The mess of spit and teeth caused you to moan, hunger practically leaking out of both of you. His kisses moved down from your lips to your jaw, now resting on your neck as he kissed and sucked on the sensitive skin.

"I—want to be so close to you—y/n," he said between kisses, the words being more of a plea than a statement. A beg more than an ask.

"H-Hyunjin..." you whimpered as he whined into you.

"Just—like you—wanted, yeah? I— want to feel you— wrapped—around me," he moaned as he rutted into you. You couldn't hold back your own moans.

"Hyujin—"

"So tight—you'd be—so tight, riding me—fuck. I'd let— you do— whatever—you want to me, y/n. Ride me—please."

Tears were almost brimming in your eyes at his words, despite his obscenities. You were so full of love for him that the aspect of him doing this to you—loving you and blatantly doing so in such acts of desperation—made you overflow with adoration.

However, you couldn't trick him any longer.

"Wait, Hyunnie, wait," you protested, pulling him so his face was again above yours.

"What's—what's wrong baby?" He asked between kisses to your cheeks. God, he couldn't stop kissing you even if you asked him to wait. He'd be gentle, slow down maybe, but it seemed like he could never stop. Not with you, not ever.

Still, you needed to focus.

"I lied earlier," you replied, your voice light despite the heaviness of your words. Yet, Hyunjin didn't stop he let your words hang. He refused to stomp on your voice, wanting to use your words rather than finish your sentences for you. You were a big girl, and you could speak for yourself. Your words could've meant anything— lies about your love for him, about the desire to be here, anything. Regardless, Hyunjin kept kissing your face, now taking time to study your glossy, fucked-out eyes. Fuck, how could you be so pretty?

You gulped, trying to focus yourself and not get lost in his touch: how his kisses felt, how he rutted into you, and, god, how big his cock must be.

"I lied about... my favourite position," you stated.

That, surprisingly, was what made Hyunjin pull away. Though it was brief, you instantly yearned for the sensation of his touch.

"Well," he asked, occasionally glancing down at your reddened lips, "Then... what is it?"

From his words alone, you could tell that Hyunjin was yours. His tonality, his cadence, all of it told you that he was willing to do anything for you.

Then it became incredibly obvious when Hyunjin tried to guess what your favourite position really was.

"Doggy? No... fuck, as much as I'd like to see your ass from that angle, it's not close enough. Even if I'd press you into me, hold you by your throat, lick the shell of your ear, and whisper dirty things to you," his words made him start slowly rutting into you again. "Fuck, it still wouldn't be enough. I wouldn't be able to see your beautiful face. Hmph—" Hyunjin stopped dragging his cock across your clothed cunt, the stimulation becoming overbearing.

Yet, he continued.

"What about missionary? Or is too formal?"

Hyunjin stared at you as he continued to list off all the positions he knew, unaware of your agape mouth and the blush that never seemed to fade from your face. Clearly, he had been thinking about fucking you as much as you wanted to fuck him.

Hyunjin's eyes were shut now, getting lost in his fantasies as he brought your leg up to his chest so he could rub his growing erection deeper into you. His sweat pants barely constrained him as his eyes pinched and his words stuttered.

Before you could let Hyunjin continue, your words halted him.

"None of that, Hyunnie," you whispered. "Please... can I... can I show you?" Hyunjin's eyes shot open.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "How do you want me, y/n?"

With a few words and repositioning, Hyunjin arranged himself exactly how you requested. Leaning against the headboard of his bed, Hyunjin eyed you as you sat beside him, playing with his hair. He was in his boxers now, stripped of his loungewear and his blush spreading down his chest. You had stripped down, too, only retaining your cropped tank top which your nipples poked through and panties as a flimsy cover for your cunt. Hyunjin was practically drooling at seeing you so bare, your full tummy pudge making his mouth water.

"I want to mark your tummy, baby," he breathed out, hands fisting the sheets in an attempt to ground himself. "With my kisses, with my hickies, with my cum, with—"

Your laugh stopped him. The light smile on your face contrasted with the absolute deprivation plastered on Hyujin's. He needs you, and here you were, teasing him.

"Aw, I thought you wanted to help me, Hyunnie," you teased. Your hand traced down his chest, fingers brushing lightly against his abs, ribs, and anywhere that would give him goosebumps. Hyunjin leaned his head, whimpering at your touch.

"Fuck— yes," he groaned, "a-anything for you, y/n, anything."

You giggled. "Then let me take my time, baby." Your hand traced his waistband, making Hyunjin gasp. Thankfully, your hand dipped lower, grasping his cock through the strained fabric of his boxers.

"Mmm— Fuck," he whimpered. His voice faltered as you rubbed him slow and firm, his hips stuttering as you teased his tip.

"God, y/n, this can't be it," he protested. Your eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Whatever do you mean, Hyunjin?" Now it was his time to use his words.

"Please," he mewled, "please, show me the position... don't just play with my cock. Please."

Fuck, how could you deny him like this? Practically crying for you? Your smile grew, satisfied with his response.

"Okay, Hyunnie," you chuckled. Pulling your hand away from him, Hyunjin's eyes shot open, offended by the fleeting touch. Yet, before he could oppose the act, your hand push his torso back against the headboard, holding him steady as you readied yourself.

Sitting back on your knees, your hands grasped Hyunjin's. You guided him towards your crop top, as if you were silently telling him "undress me, take me." Hyunjin complied.

He undressed you eagerly, savouring the way your tits bounced out of your tight crop top. Next was your panties, which slid deliciously off of your legs as they clung to your cunt from your wetness. You took each garment of clothing from him, tossing the crop top aside but keeping the underwater dangling in your grasp. Hyunjin took a shaky breath in at the prospect of what you would do with them. Pump him with them? Let him taste your scent?

Sadly, you were simply teasing him. You quickly discarded them with the rest of your clothes, symbolizing your lack of interest in them but understanding the effect they had on Hyunjin. Your actions made Hyunjin whimper: he did not want to waste your panties nor waste any of your juices. Hyunjin almost wanted to beg now for you to stuff them in his mouth, his tolerance wearing thin.

"Sit back, Hyunjin," you stated, to which he immediately complied. He didn't even realize he had begun pulling towards you again. As soon as his back hit the headboard again, you began to rise from your knees. While maintaining eye contact with him, you sat back on your plump ass and allowed your legs to softly rest across Hyunjin's thighs. Almost immediately, Hyunjin's hands began to caress your legs, pressing the squishy flesh into his aching cock gently while relishing the feeling of your soft skin against his. He took another shaky breath in.

"I'm glad you like my legs, Hyunnie," you smiled. Hyunjin could barely break his stare away from the soft flesh as he agreed.

"More than like, y/n," he responded. You laughed.

"Good," you continued, "because in the position—my favourite position—my legs are a key feature." Those words were enough to break Hyunjin's trance and allow his eyes to focus on yours. God, if he didn't love you before, he surely did now. His grip on your thighs was almost painful but still deliciously satisfying.

"Please," he breathed out, almost choking on the air, "please, show me." And, of course, you complied. Bending your knees slightly, you moved your hands into the space and pulled Hyunjin's boxers down slightly, allowing his cock to spring free.

Fuck. You were right about his size.

His tip was red from the strain against the fabric, and your mouth watered at the idea of his cum filling your mouth. However, you needed to focus on the task at hand.

You slowly began to pump him. You wanted to stroke him to his full length, but from the size and hardness, you could tell Hyunjin was already about to cum. Other dead giveaways were Hyunjin's whimpers that filled the room, his precum that coated your hand, and how he drooled at your touch. In fact, Hyunjin's tongue hung out of his mouth, lightly panting at each stroke you offered him.

"F-fuck, baby," he whimpered, "Y/n, please, let me fuck you—hmm!" your hand suddenly pumped him faster before returning to your original tempo.

"Tut tut, Hyunnie," you tsked, "patience is a virtue. Don't you know that?" Hyunjin nodded vigorously, worried at the idea of you prolonging his torture.

"Your such a good boy, yeah?"

"O-only for y/n," his eyes were wide and teary, and your heartbeat reverberated a bit louder in your chest.

"Then you shouldn't rush what I want." With those words, you slowly lowered your plush thighs back across his lap. Slowly, you parted them, creating a small crevice through which you guided Hyunjin's swelling cock through. The soft, tight make-shift pussy that now encapsulated his dick made Hyunjin shake.

"Fuck, please." Tears threatened to spill from his eyes from pleasure. You just smiled.

Your thighs rested on his, now. His dick was snug between them, twitching when you squished them together and hugged him so nicely. Hyunjin's grip on you was harsh, leaving his knuckles white as he kept you close. One hand held you around your waist while the other massaged your calf, wrapping completely around your lower leg. Though fondling you, the act grounded him as he tried to distract himself from thrusting up into you. God, he wanted to be so good for you, make his words worth something.

Your touch wasn't helping. You rubbed his lower legs while your other hand continued to pet his hair, scratching in all the right places.

This. This was what you wanted. His cock, so snug and needy between your legs. And Hyunjin, the man of your dreams, purring at your touch. It was his beautifully desperate cock aching for stimulation. It was his red tip that leaked precum, that was dying to fuck your thighs, to fuck you. You almost didn't want to make him cum in fear that his release meant the end of this proximity between you. Though it pained him to be so teased, you still desired to keep like this, whining between your legs. Completely wrapped around your finger. Utterly devoted to you, waiting for your orders.

But, fuck, you just had to give him what he wanted. It was Hyunjin, for God's sake.

So, you indulged him. Your hand traced up his leg, up your juicy thighs, and towards Hyunjin's mouth. Your fingers traced his lips before pushing in and wetting them on his tongue. He hummed and whined against the pads of your index and middle fingers. He could've sucked on them forever. However, once they were satisfactorily wet, you retracted them, placing them in your own mouth and mixing his spit with yours. Hyunjin's eyes studied you intently, whimpering at your actions, anticipating what was to come.

Then, your hand—soaked in yours and his spit—ever so gently began to tease Hyunjin's aching tip that peaked out from between your thighs. Just a little. Just enough.

Hyunjin almost instantly began to thrust up into you, eagerly fucking your thighs and moaning loudly with each pump.

"Take it, baby," you whispered to his ears as you planted kisses on his scarlet cheeks, "take all I give you."

Hyunjin took your words as an invitation.

His lips kissed down your neck and collarbones, hand holding you close but not haltering the hand that fucked his poor cock. He held you close, so close. Each kiss made him pull you closer to his body, each kiss an anguished act to show you fuck, please be close to me, y/n.

As if reaching the end of his journey, Hyunjin's mouth settled on your chest. His hand that once caressed your legs now fondled your tits, pinching and twisting your nipple while his mouth sucked eagerly on the other. The slobber from his kisses left your chest glossy and, truth be told, made him so much hungrier for you. Each kiss made you moan louder, pump his dick harder, and press him nearer to you.

"I like being this close to my Hyunnie," you cried as your legs and hands fucked Hyunjin's cock. "Just-just like how I a-always wanted."

"Ah— fuck," Hyunjin moaned open mouth kisses into your chest, leaning more and more into your body while his hips fucked up into you more aggressively. As his hands and body contorted yours, the pressure he applied to you suddenly overpowered your own.

Hyunjin toppled over you, his cock freeing from your legs as you landed on your back against the bed. The change in position triggered something in Hyunjn. It was either that or seeing you sprawled out below him, glistening from the mixture of his spit and the sweat on your chest, making your tits look so much more delectable. Due to the sight of you, Hyunjin let his swollen lips slobber onto your chest, causing you to shiver at the sensation.

"Hyunnie..." you whined under him, "I didn't get to finish." The pout that layered your voice made Hyunjin want to give in to you. You were so unsatisfied with your unfinished performance and wanted to give him more and more. However, Hyunjin was the one who could truly voice dissatisfaction. After all, he was the one with a heavy erection that continuously leaked, begging for release. You had teased him for so long, and now, it was his turn.

"We have to take turns, y/n." Hyunjin smiled, "It's time to show you my favourite position."

You were at a loss for words. Hyunjin being above you was something you dreamed of, and now, under him, you were completely content on relinquishing your control over him in favour of having him own you, of making you his.

"Hyunnie," you pleaded, "show me."

In an instant, Hyunjin pinned your knees to your sides, squishing your torso between your thick thighs. Your chest, already marked and soaked in liquids, rubbed feverishly against Hyunjin's own bare torso. The sensations made you squirm, yet you could barely move with how tightly Hyunjin held you. To him, you were a doll, ready to use and malleable to his will.

Hyunjin's knees caged your own legs, his body using every limb and appendage to secure you underneath him. One hand, nevertheless, still held your head. Hyunjin, even in the lewdest moments, held you, wanted you, and pined for you.

His other hand, however, was guiding his reddening cock to your pussy.

"I've waited so long, y/n," he panted into your ear. "So long. And now you think you can tease me? Make me wait to take what's mine?"

You wanted to respond, truly you did, but your voice was stuck in your throat. Hyunjin rubbed his cockhead against your clit, teasing you both deliciously and gathering your juices on his heavy erection. Despite the minimal stimulus given to you, you were practically gushing.

"Aw, baby's too dumb to respond," Hyunjin cooed, his tongue darting out and licking the lobe of your ear, causing you to shiver.

"Please, y/n," Hyunjin whispered to you, "say the words, say anything and I'll give in." His cock continued to rub you up and down your cunt, ghosting but never fully entering you. It took every crumb of conviction to compose yourself. You needed to tell Hyunjin what you wanted, what you needed. You took a breath in, and—as shaky as it was—gained the air needed to speak.

"I-I'm your toy, Hyunnie," you mewled, "j-just yours, only Hyunjin's—ah!"

Your words were cut short as Hyunjin pushed into you, his cock rejoicing in being hugged by your plush walls.

"God," Hyunjin praised. His hips quickly picked up a fast, harsh speed, chasing the high he had been so sinfully neglected this whole night. Each push into you made you feel so full, so utterly and totally complete.

"Hyun-nie," you stuttered out as his dick pistoned into you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin panted, pressing his forehead to yours and allowing his sweat to trickle down you.

"Mmh! Hyunjin," you whimpered as his tip met that gummy spot inside you. Your high was quickly coming, the teasing you had subjected Hyunjin to all night obviously affecting you, as well.

"God, look at you," Hyunjin gasped, pulling away from the crook in your neck. Your glossy eyes could barely register Hyunjin above you, completely consumed by the way his cock felt inside you. Hyunjin could tell you were gone but did not relent in his pace. Instead, he let one hand trace up your body and begin to caress your face before sticking his thumb in your mouth, which you eagerly sucked. Hyunjin smirked as he dug deeper into you.

"Y/n," he moaned. "All that shit about closeness it's true, isn't it? But— fuck—but you also just wanna be used like a slut, allow me to fuck your thighs and use you how I like, huh?"

You wanted to nod, plead and agree with your love that yes, you were just a needy bitch that needed to be filled with cum in order to behave. Instead, you continued to eagerly suck on Hyunjin's thumb, pawing at his veiny arms.

Hyunjin continued, "God, when I saw you on top of Jeongin earlier it— hmm! Fuck—it...it made me want to take you in front of him, in front of everyone. You're mine, love. Mine."

"Hyunjin's," you mumbled with his digit still wrapped around your tongue, "Only Hyunnie's."

"You just love having people look at you being a little slut, though," Hyunjin growled. "Loving cock so goddamn much that you'd fuck all your friends just to get a taste of dick? Well, you can have mine baby. You'll have to beg, but you can get it. Every night. My cock—mmhm! M-my cock, so snug in you, between your thighs, ready to cum for you. Y-you'd like that, wouldn't you? To be filled with my c-cum?"

Hyunjin started to lose himself. Honestly, you wanted to applaud him for how long he had been able to hold on. He had been so patient, so good for you. After the events of tonight, he deserved to fuck you how he wanted. He dragged his thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with his own mouth and swallowing your whimpers. The wet digit then found its way to your clit, offering quick swipes which matched the pace of his cock.

"Hmph! I— shit— Hyunjin!" You panted between kisses. Each rub against you brought you closer and closer to Hyunjin, his smile evident within the clashing teeth and lips.

"Y/n," he cooed your name like a mantra. "Fuck, I wanna cum all over you, love. Just paint you with it. Please, princess? Please cum for me."

"Hyunnie—" your voice was cut off by the sudden erratic motions of Hyunjin's hips. As he chased his high, you were pulled from all coherent thoughts. Your mind clouded, his cock continually abusing your delicate cunt.

"M-my princess," Hyunjin moaned as he pressed harder into you, "my little y/n taking my cock so well. You're coming, aren't you? God, you clamp so hard around me. Finish, p-please—fuck—finish so I can cum all over you." The request, though more of a demand, wasn't hard to fulfill. With his final words, you painted Hyunjin's cock with your juices, still holding onto him so tightly, desperate to hang on to the feeling of being so full.

Sadly, your cum allowed Hyunjin to slip out of you, leaving you empty but blessing you with the image of Hyunjin fucking his fist right above your tummy. He straddled your body, sweat pouring off of him and adding to the fluids that coated his cock.

"Y/n, y/n," he cried. "S-so close to me... my baby, so close to me." Your hand joined his, rubbing his tip eagerly in the hopes of finally offering Hyunjin precious release.

"Cum, baby," you panted in your fucked-out state, "cum all over me."

As if your words liberated him from a curse, Hyunjin spilt his cum all over his hand while letting it paint your chest, assisting hand, and tummy. The sensation made you squirm under him.

"M-my pretty princess," Hyunjin moaned, "all mine, my pretty baby." Before you could leave his grip, Hyunjin's other hand groped your chest to force you to stay still, rubbing his juices into you.

"Mmh, my baby covered in my pups," he hummed as he allowed bliss to settle into him. Liquid still oozed out of his slit, the last of his orgasm still riding out. Then, with his cum covered hand, he stuck two digits into your hung-open mouth, which you then greedily sucked clean.

"So sweet," Hyunjin whispered as he lowered himself towards you, "so good." He let his barely-cleaned hand slip from your mouth, leaning into a slow kiss with you.

The kiss was not desperate, not demanding or needy. For that night, it was the only thing you had down slowly, with intent and purpose. His tongue danced with yours, letting honeyed moans escape him as he cherished the precious moment with you. As he pulled away from the kiss, he allowed his legs to unpin you and his hands to settle into yours, intertwining despite the stickiness of his mess.

"I'm glad I got to show you what I like, y/n." Hyunjin's voice was almost innocent, naive in his love-soaked words. You giggled

"I like what you like, Hyunjin," you mumbled with a faint smile layering your exhausted voice.

"I like what you like, too," he replied. Placing a final kiss on your forehead, Hyunjin smiled, completely content.

"I like you."

You smiled back. "I like you, too, Hyunnie. So much."

The rest of the night was spent locked in each other's arms, insomnia fleeing as the golden hue of the sky began to settle as the sun rose. Tomorrow, you would be subjected to questioning from the boys as you emerged from Hyunjin's room, bruised and blushing from the previous night's escapades. Yet, for now, it was just you and Hyunjin. Alone, and basking in each other's presence as the day took over the night sky.

For now, you could rejoice in the intimacy between you and the boy you liked, the closeness you two felt with each other, and the kisses that he let linger on your face as you were lulled to sleep.

[beesmygod]

who fills the pot holes in “lore olympus”?

the thing about criticism is this: you can absolutely think “too hard” about something intended to be light fare and the delicate balancing act of art criticism is about threading various needles to avoid as many retorts as possible accusing you of opening discussions in bad faith. one of the many ways to obliterate trust in your critical audience is to become so derisively nitpicky that your attempts to draw attention to the pre-existing holes in the setting or the structure of the story will look like petty sabotage. i recognize this is the risk im taking when i get set off by the existence of sports luxury vehicles within a fictional universe created entirely to cater to a specific sexual appetite. indeed, there is no type of pedantry more obnoxious than the sexual pedant.

BUT.

the work doesnt exist in a vacuum. if we’re going to be honest about the work’s intent (or, how the work’s intent explicitly reads to the audience), part of the fantasy is to be completely taken care of. i mean, who among us hasn’t dreamed of this, at least briefly. it’s one of the most fundamental of all human desires. but to be taken care of, in settings which are founded in capitalist societies (everyone groans at my shit), begs the obvious question: where is the money coming from?

author’s note so everyone knows im not insane (hahahaha): i’m not here to argue the virtues of communism over capitalism or imply that depicting capitalism favorably in your comic is a moral failing. it is not capitalism itself that i have a problem with (...in artistic depictions), it is the way that it is invoked within this comic specifically that bothers me; it demonstrates a terminal thread of thoughtlessness that threatens to unravel the entire setting, premise and moral ambiguity of what is being presented as a desirable fantasy. this element is the catalyst that sparks the degradation of the taboo into the unconscionable. 

look i’ll be up front: my primary motivation is that this comic sucks and im a hater. the anti-feminist overtones are their own kettle of fish but the runner up contender for most concerning (oooueerrrg, everyone is groaning again) element is the complete lack of class consciousness. look, i mean concerning in the sense of “why has none of this gone recognized by, like, anyone?” every time i show someone a real LO panel they react like i’m went out of my way to fuck with them in an ultra specific way. it has completely recreated the feeling of being the only person in my friend group watching riverdale, if riverdale were the crown jewel of the WB.

to strip the pretension from the phrase “class consciousness” and put it in plain text: the insertion of modern capitalism into the comic has necessitated the creation of an underclass to serve the gods (the focus of the comic). as a result, the comic has repeatedly needed to justify the abuse, exploitation and acts of dominance over the subjugated class in order for the main cast to remain sympathetic. the author is incapable of envisioning a world that does not operate on disparity, in spite of the immutable fact that the gods are the sole arbiters of seemingly infinite creation.

and i’m capable of comprehending that there are times when a work has grotesquely unlikable asshole protagonists on purpose. it could be argued that the fickle behaviors of the gods is SUPPOSED to be detestable and there are obviously times where that is the intended audience read. but this is not “succession” and the entirety of the work does not indicate that it is trying to create quiet commentary by inviting the audience to draw their own conclusions on the characters by simply presenting them with the truth of their actions and deeds. additionally, if the romantic hero also engages in that behavior and it’s unremarked on or encouraged by the author or the heroine, what is the intended audience read?

regardless, all this to say: i do not want to alter the content of the comic, but to verbalize how it reads to me as an audience member. the purpose of criticism is to demonstrate and encourage reflection and to help refine one’s own perceptions.

okay. right. the cars.

this is minthe. i could write 100000 more words about the treatment of her by the comic and, by extension, the author. her introduction is about as subtle as a brick: she serves as the evil whore foil to persephone’s virgin perfection. her introduction as hades’ randomly abusive, hyper-sexual, and cruel younger girlfriend is contrasted with persephone’s naivete, chastity, and sweetness. shes literally smoking a cigar and wearing lingerie. somehow she is not the hero.

like i said, there’s a lot to unpack with her but i need to stay on target. minthe is a nymph, one of many “beast races” (for lack of a better term) that populate olympus and fulfill menial tasks and jobs. for example, this guy runs a modeling agency.

a modeling agency that include car shows. or...dealerships. its not really clear. anyway: she is introduced to hades in a flashback through his brother zeus who sexually harasses her during her shift.

lol uh. or comes as close as he can without becoming objectively villainous instead of “rakish”. as a result, what plays out is all VERY schoolyard behavior.

he executes a 0/10 prank that still kills for some reason.

and then it happens. “it” isn’t a singular event limited to just the example im about to give. “it” is the complete undercutting of the dramatic and logical tension within the story and “it” happens with alarming frequency as the comic introduces more and more modern elements. each additional luxury vehicle or department story or cell phone comes with the artist being forced to depict the people (or in this case, beast races) providing those services. the author cannot imagine a world where luxury is not predicted on service or a product, even or especially when the existence of the service or product does not make sense.

back to “it”...hades poofs away:

if gods can poof and fly (as its been implied some or all of them can), what in the hell is the purpose of the luxury vehicle on olympus? the beast races are sure as shit not buying them as they are explicitly the working class in every single one of their appearances. what does it run on? who pumps the gas? who services the cars? the streets of olympus have been paved so that cars can be driven so this would suggest the city’s infrastructure was centered around the use of vehicles. does he hire someone to drive him around in it, despite the fact that he can teleport? he and persephone clearly use it to get around even though she can fly. these cars are so successful despite having an extremely limited number of buyers, they make enough money to hire booth babes all day explicitly so they can be sexually harassed by the men (of a superior magic immortal race) buying the cars.

why does an entire seemingly unnecessary industry exist within the confines of the universe?

all of the above questions are overthinking a basic logistical problem with the setting for anyone with a moral center: in order to be served, one must have servants. the entirety of the universe in LO is constructed around not a modern re-imagining of the ancient myth, but instead a lazy and depressing hodge-podge of various products and physical items the author places great value on as status items in the real world. and, sadly, this is not as a bit within the universe. this isn’t setting up any message other than the central one of the comic: love and worth can be quantified with a dollar amount.

hades’ department store (staffed entirely by beast races who are delighted and eager to serve their master) offers a purse that two beast race women drool over, only to be informed:

this scene has a direct and obvious purpose: through it, we establish that hades’ store caters to the ultra-ultra-rich. this is a level of rich that is unobtainable to anyone except the pantheon of gods, whose unique abilities maintain the fabric of reality and thus set the terms for the world they unilaterally control. at best, minthe, a nymph, experiences a fraction of this wealth when sugaring for hades. on the other hand, persephone is the heiress to a cereal empire (who is eating the....?.........you know what dont even get me started on that whole thing) so she is all but assured to be independently wealthy even if she was temporarily without funds during certain events of the comic.

back to the purse: hades and persephone arrive at his own department store so that she can have a restorative shopping montage. she learns a heart-warming lesson about how its okay to be rich in what i think is one of the most gratuitous and absolute dog-brained moments of the entire fucking comic, thus far, including the part where persephone gets big and accidentally steps on (real, human, ancient greek) people and has to go on the lam. her accidental manslaughters evidently require a tribunal and a trial of her peers, which is odd when contrasted with the justice meted out on the beast races indiscriminately and unilaterally by individual gods who act as judge, jury, and executioner.

granted these are not the nice gods (i can think of an event with demeter, persephone’s confusingly controlling mother, specifically, as seen above), but there’s an echo of this behavior when hades bullies two beast race women into divulging information about persephone. in one example, a woman purchases a hair comb from a pawn shop, ignorant that it was a gift from hades and persephone is the one who pawned it for emergency funds. when hades shakes her down and demands where she stole the comb from, she directs him to the pawn shop and he just...takes it. to give it to persephone again. whether or not she was made whole or is even okay with this is completely inconsequential to the author but left me, the reader, in a total lurch. the complete disregard for addressing this within the narrative is less shocking when taken into total account with everything else ive been talking about.

the sequence in which hades takes her on a shopping spree to both improve her mood and express his love was too grotesque for me on every conceivable level. it is not just the shockingly antiquated “women b shoppin!” stereotype presented as a healing process, but the open and shameless conflation of money and love, net worth and self-worth. what possible message could come from this except to reinforce that within the fictional universe of LO, it is the place of the lesser to fawn over what persephone is ultimately entitled to. it is her birthright as the protagonist/self insert and as a literal goddess who determines the creation of food...and nymphs. the underclass. the gods are responsible for the creation of their servants.

the industries exist because they are 1:1 representations of or conductive to what the author considers to be a desirable luxurious fantasy. i do not think there is a more complex reason than that, as that is the reason why the entire comic exists: as a personal love letter to the author’s tastes and desires. and frankly, that’s the point of comics. ALL comic artists should succumb to this desire. what continues to vex and haunt me however is the complete lack of reflection occurring despite the author putting these elements together and presenting them for an audience who then lapped it up without questioning what, specifically, was appealing about this and why. it is by sheer accident that these elements combine together to paint an unflattering picture of a culture that has created artificial disparity for no apparent reason than personal gratification.

my question, is this:

who fills the pot holes on the roads built exclusively so that the gods can drive their luxury cars? why do they do it? to get hades some pussy????

[strawberfolk]

SWTD Plot Part 1

That insane moment where you decide to write a play by play plot list of the entirety of still wakes the deep for fanfics you may or may not even write....

Story notes 

The Start 

Starts with Suze sending him a letter talking about divorce on Christmas in the 3rd deck 

Trots comes gets Caz and tells him Rennicks looking for him 

Kelly and Douglas room 

Caz finds Finlay down the hall she asks for a light before telling him he's in deep shit with Rennick because he got some letters from the mainland 

She complains about Cadel and Rennick being cheap 

Caz goes to get breakfast  

Gibbo rooms with Dobbie 

Addier signed up for double portions Roy caught him 

Canteen (accommodation) 

Conversation between trots, O’Connor and gibbo 

Trots talking about unions, industrial actions and Cadel making cuts to get more rigs going 

Gibbo thinks he's being ridiculous  

O’Connor agrees with him stating they're down to a skeleton crew in the pontoons 

Conversation between brodie and Raffs 

Raffs going for his first solo dive 

Brodie is looking out for him and chides Caz when he mentions he would never do a solo dive 

Raffs is nervous 

Addier is eating alone 

He antagonizes Caz saying it'll be his last day and pokes fun at his lack of ‘good’ work 

Caz bites back with how he couldn't hold a light when doing his job. 

Cracks a joke and everyone laughs (you wouldnt know a spark plug from a fucking hairdryer) 

Conversation with Roy 

Rennick immediately buzzes the announcer calling Caz to his office 

Caz tells Roy about Suze whose thinking about divorce 

Roy tells him not to worry about it too much and to next time think before battering in Billy chamberlains head next time (not dead but certainly injured) 

Apparently, he made some unclean comments criticizing Suze and Caz swung on him 

Roy reassures that the lord loves Caz and so does Suze 

Dobbie passes by the kitchen door and lets Roy know that trots left roys insulin in his cabin 

Trots is Russian??? Maybe German 

The Deck 

Innes and Muir are bantering on the lower deck 

Muir makes a comment about Innes's head being hard to miss 

Innes chides him saying the Rennick is just itching to give someone a kicking 

Banky is working on the stairs making Caz go around 

Yellow sign says Cadel Beira D 2/23 (February 23rd?) 

Rennick again announces to us questioning why were not in his office, this happens multiple times with different phrasing throughout this area.  

Caz askes Innes and Muir if they need a hand 

Muir lets them know that they're alright 

To which Innes adds on that if he wants to transfer to the deck, he should give him less lip/backtalk 

Muir buts in saying not to mind Innes he loves it 

Another announcement, they assure Caz that he'll be alright and to try not to punch him 

Conversation between Sunil and Alex 

Sounds like they're trying to fit metal parts 

Alex says they've got gaps to will Sunil comments that the drill crew will love that 

Alex reply's that Rennick will love it even more and that Sunil's telling him 

Sunil replies that he told him last time and its Alex's turn 

Sunil is on top deck, Alex lower 

Conversation with roper 

Roper is usually in marine control but came down as the drill is acting up, has everybody scrambling to figure out the problem thought they can't. 

He’s hoping they won't get behind schedule, most likely to avoid Rennicks outbursts 

Roper and un-named are in the derrick 

Conversation between McClurg and Bruce 

Talking about shipments that won't be coming in for a few weeks 

McClurg says he can patch it but might want to say some prayers 

Bruce seems exasperated as they've been needing a lot of those lately  

Dalgliesh warns Caz to stere clear of the lift as to not get crushed 

Scooby startles Caz (calls him Mcleary) 

Asks Caz to quickly fix the fuse box while he's down there and toss down a screwdriver 

Scooby is on the upper deck 

Administration 

Rennick in installation manager office, above administration 

Conversation with Rennick 

He is pissed, really pissed. Rennick is upset about the letter he got from the police and yells at Caz about how he runs a tight ship and there is no excuse for how he's a liability. 

Revealed that Caz was a pro boxer, however no matter how popular he is on shore on the rig Rennick is the ‘fucking king’. 

Caz tries to explain how he can sort this with some time, but Renick cuts him off 

Rennick gets a phone call from gibbo presumably telling him that the drill hit something, and he thinks they should stop and investigate before continuing. 

Despite gibbo and roper advising against it Rennick orders them to continue drilling or he’ll come down there himself 

The call ends and Caz makes a comment causing Rennick to tell him he's fired and to get off his rig. 

Helipad 

3 people on helipad, Gregor, archie and someone else 

Something explodes causing Gregor to fall off the edge, Caz notices and runs after him while archie screams at him to get away from the edge 

Gregor begs for Caz to help him, to not let him die 

A second small explosion causes Gregor's hands to slip from the railing. Sending him plummeting into the sea 

This is followed by a third, larger explosion the sends Caz over the edge after him 

Caz falls into the ocean cutting his vision 

Screen flashes with flesh like tones akin to an injurie matched with flashing distorted images and memories. 

This is where the story will start 

The true Beginning  

There is a memory sequence with Roy, Caz and Suze 

They're talking about Caz working on the rig, Suze is against the idea and goes back a fourth with Roy 

It's brought up how Roy forgot their wedding cake on a bench 

Roy promises to take care of Caz 

Caz was going to be stationed for four months on the rig 

The Dive Deck 

Caz fades in and out of consciousness where we hear Douglus and Brodie pulling him out of the see 

They both fuss over him with brodie focused on getting them to safety while Douglus panics if he's still alive, they both fuss over him while rushing to cover, most likely to avoid getting tossed off themselves 

Caz passes out again after coughing up water and wakes up alone 

Stepping outside brodie immediately, yells out for Caz to help him,  

we can already see the rig falling apart with things popping off the sides and plummeting into the ocean 

Caz asks if he was able to get Gregor out too, with brodie replying that he couldn't find him and that he's not the only on they lost 

His attention is then grabbed by what we can assume to be raffs who's stuck in the bell. 

Raffs is tossing inside the bell screaming his head off much to Brodies horror and confusion as ‘decompression shouldn't be this bad’ 

The current running theory is that the drill hit something, a gas leak or air pocket, that caused an explosion 

Douglus went off to find out more about what happened and if the Beira’s even safe anymore 

Brodie tries to comfort raffs saying he’ll get him out real soon, brodie regrets letting him go down there, stating he was supposed to take care of raffs 

 

 

The under rig, Catwalks 

On first observation the rig itself is falling apart, the catwalks are mangled and bent 

When we pass the drill there's glowing blue light with an undertone of red that reflects onto the tin undercarriage of the rig like water. 

In the center of it is a web of winding rope like pieces of perhaps flesh, if its pulsing and breathing has anything to say about it. 

It looks to be coming from inside the drill, having probably winding up and around it before bursting out and latching onto the under carriage 

It has a bubbling effect on one's vision, gathering on the part of the eye that is closest to it 

Caz’s reaction to this is a mix of awe and horror, cause what the fuck 

He starts to hear someone or something, almost like music that is until Douglas breaks his temporary fog by telling him to get the fuck away from that and come back inside before the Catwalk falls apart and dumps his ass back into the ocean. 

He then tells Caz to meet up with him inside  

There is a lock Caz breaks with the screwdriver that blocks the way 

Balancing across a board mixed with some jumps and monkey bars Caz ends up around leg b before transitioning to leg c to get to engineering access 

Leg C 

Looking down over the railing the flesh from before seems to have penetrated Leg C 

Using the walls to form and grow in spiral patterns and drape onto the surrounding walkways 

Thankfully it seems to have only made it about halfway up the inside of the leg, rapid growth 

Rennick comes on the announcement declaring that there has been a minor drill issue, and that work is suspended until it is fixed.  

He continues to press that it is a ‘temporary issue’ much to Caz's exasperation and disbelief 

Continuing down we notice that the inside of the leg is almost as twisted into scrap metal as the catwalks outside, roundabout jumping and walkways continue 

The Beira shakes rumbles periodically, causing more pieces of metal to fall further into the leg and in turn the mass of flesh 

Caz continues to make his way around to the entrance for engineering and finds a head lamp, thank God, shit was dark 

Engineering  

stepping inside the left and most direct path to engineering ops is closed off by rubble, making us take the right path that will lead us to gas separation 

Once going down the stairs the path’s floor is covered in maybe 5 inches of water and gas (if the rainbow reflection tells much) 

Entering an open room a pipe bursts, making a loud pop sound that is replied to by a even louder gargle/shriek much to Caz’s horror as he rushes up a set of stairs to the next room 

There he finds a vent which he quickly pries open and climbs into 

Coming out the other end however he is met with smeared blood and a white hardhat 

The ominous noises continue mixed with what sounds like sobbing, snorting, and more gurgles  

Finlay 

Following the hall Caz opens the door and gets startled by Finlay who beckons him to come closer 

Caz asks what's making that noise, commenting that Finlay looks like She’s seen a ghost. 

He’s shocked when she’s says its gibbo making all that racket and says they should go find and help him 

Though Finlay is against that idea, going on to say that he's not right in the head. 

Apparently, the explosion caused an unknown substance that looked like oil to splatter all over him causing him to go crazy and lunge at Finlay 

She tells Caz that Gibbo’s out there with him, much to his displeasure, and to be careful, really fucking careful 

Caz asks if she’s seen anybody else to which she replies that she just got here. Most likely missing Douglas by a hair 

Finlay continues and tells Caz that he needs to go through the water tanks to get to accommodation, she warns him to be quiet and to stay the fuck away from gibbo, has not right 

Walking through gas separation Caz climbs a ladder and comes face to face with a scene right out of horror movie, taking place in Engineering OPS 

This would be our first close look at Wisps (that's what I'll call the ropes and curtains of flesh from now on) 

It looks to originate from the top panels, most likely growing and spreading through the crevices between the roof and ceiling.  

It then would have shot down, probably enveloping the people closes to it and infecting them, causing rapid growth and likely death (perhaps they weren't infected with the right type of shape, therefor causing them to be used as energy rather than gatherers. Perhaps 2-3 people caught 

Continuing through the room Caz goes up the ladder to level 2 jumping over a hole in the loft before entering the water tanks 

A few water tanks seem to have burst, partially flooding the room up to Caz’s hip 

Water tank section 

Stepping down into the water immediately sets Gibbo off, we can hear him heaving as he bangs between water tanks, his voice echoing of the metal. This makes it hard to tell where he is 

He seems partly conscious, pleading with Caz through strained breaths to not come any closer and to stay away. 

Though conscious he’s hardly coherent, he mentions addier telling him to go down here, most likely with Finlay to do something with the drill 

At times he’s comforting himself, saying he's a good lad 

Caz makes his way through the water tank almost shitting his pants when he gets to a hatch 

It's only a few steps down the hatch that what gibbo now is barrels overhead, slamming the hatch closed and sending Caz to the flooded ground, gibbo continues to stomp and bang on top of the tank,  

Caz slip through a tight hallway connecting the tanks and to his horror finds Douglas hunched over the ladder, 

It looks like he fell, probably the same way Caz did except he hit his head, hard. Though gibbo probably had a hand in that as he states. 

As we go up the stairs gibbo screams apologies, he didn't want to hurt him, just stop him from looking, he keeps seeing his face, don't leave him alone down here, he's confused, what's happening, and tell his mom he’ll be home soon 

If you hang around a bit longer, you'll hear sobbing, he'll say he’d never you'd know I'd never, what do I do, I don't know what to do 

Take the exit to accommodation 

Accommodation 

Step in to the utility floor in accommodation and Caz will find a heater, thank God since he's fucking freezing. Caz tells himself not to think about it 

Turn right and Caz finds a phone and answers it, on the other end is O’Connor 

O’Connor has Bruce and Fergus with him, he asks Caz what the hell's going on 

To which Caz replies that the drill hit something, and O’Connor needs to get the fuck out of there, and O’Connor doesn't disagree 

O’Connor tells Caz that something is wrong in Engineering (I'm assuming his on level 3 since we just passed through 1 and 2) he says they’re 

Going to go through the leg and come up the under rig, he swears that Rennick better set up evacuation and fast. Then he cuts off 

Caz tries to tell him he must come up through accommodation, but the call has already ended by the time he gets too 

Caz goes back into the hallway, the only way to move forward is to go up since the laundry room is blocked  

Going up the stairs Caz notices the way to the cabin floor has been blocked, the way to the deck is covered by whisps and the canteen door is barricaded 

Entering the crew lounge we hear trots struggling with something in what i think is the bathroom  

Refracting blue light flashes the room leaving water like shadows on the floor and ceiling 

Inside trots is screaming to get ‘it’ off him, repeating the phrase in a shrill panic as Caz tries to get inside asking him if he's ok and to let him in 

Caz gets increasingly panicked as trots screams turn from panicked to pain filled, ending with a strained and gurgling scream before silence. 

After a few more attempts to get the door open Caz is forced to give up in favor of finding Roy, taking the other exit to try and get into the canteen 

Roy 

Walking into the canteen it’s in complete disarray, the ceiling panels are falling off and chairs, tables and a trashcan was used to block the main entrance, that and the metal cover has been pulled down over the serving windows. 

Opening the door Caz scares the shift to out Roy, before Roy Tells him to get the fuck in here 

Roy seems panicked and out of breath as he asks Caz what the fuck is going on out there, Caz tells him that people are dying much to roys horror as he asks who and how. 

Caz struggles to explain what's been happening saying he doesn't know what to believe 

Roy agrees, stating he saw something outside and thought he doesn't know what it was it scared the shit out of him, he wants to barricade the door, but Caz disagrees, they must get off the rig, they can't just hide 

And that's all I've got so far which is, granted, a fuckton...

[em-harlsnow]

I wanna talk for a second about Fiona and JimmySteve, and I want to compare them to Gallavich

They have a lot of similarities:

Fiona loved him more than she'll ever love anyone, and I think Jimmy's the same. Just like Ian and Mickey.

Obviously, the whole on and off thing, since both couples had one of them leave and come back again and again.

I think with both Ian and Fiona, their partners outside of jimmy or Mickey are always characters which relate to Jimmy or Mickey. That's weirdly phrased, but I think it's more like both Ian and Fiona would be like 'oh, Mickey used to say stuff like that' or 'Jimmy kissed better'. Like their other relationships are almost a consequence or comparison of their main love.

Both couples also have a hell of a lot of chemistry.

However, they're also so very, very different.

Ian and Mickey are an example of loving someone an insane amount and, against all odds, it works.

Fiona and JimmySteve are an example of loving someone an insane amount and it not working.

Fiona and JimmySteve are a tragic trope; they'll never work. I don't think Fiona goes back to him after she leaves. I hope she finds someone else who she loves, perhaps not as much, because loving someone that much is hard and a little destructive.

Ian and Mickey are not tragic. Their storyline is, but they can't be tragic because they will always work out. They can't stay away from each other. Magnets.

There is certain completed element of Fiona and JimmySteve's goodbye, which every single Gallavich goodbye lacked. Even Mexico, when logically they both knew there was no chance of getting back together (because Mick would eventually come out of prison, ruling the season 1,2 and 6 goodbyes out), lacks a completedness. There's no goodbye, just an 'I love you - fuck you' which almost says 'I'll see you soon.'

Fiona and JimmySteve say goodbye. He tells her he loves her, much like Ian did, but she still needs something else. They could have been together, nothing was keeping them apart that time. (Aside from his compulsive lying - but this is about the couple and not about Jimmy).

They were an example of people falling in love with the wrong person. Love doesn't mean it works. They weren't right for each other, and I think that's one of the saddest things. Just because they loved each other, does not mean they can be together. Sometimes love does not conquer all.

Ian and Mickey are different. They fell in love with the right person, they almost moulded themselves to fit each other better. The reason they stayed apart so long was mostly due to circumstance - which you can argue for Fiona and JS too, but most of their problems could be solved with communication. Half the time I watched Fiona and JS, I felt like they were speaking two different languages. They couldn't understand each other, couldn't hear each other. It's really hard, I think, when you love someone so much, but you just don't fit right. They didn't love each other right.

("Why don't you go cry to your gay dad about it?" "Living in a goddamn slum" "I trust you - that means more to me" "I love you - I think I need something else now" "You need to let me go, you need to let me let you go")

I've always felt like Gallavich were on the same wavelength, they understood each other.

("You love me, and you're gay." "You're sick." "You're so much better than that." "I understand better than anyone: you're afraid of your father, you're afraid of your wife, you're afraid to be who you are." "I love you - What the hell does that even mean? - It means we take care of each other" "I love you, Mickey Milkovich, and if you'll let me, I'd like to spend the rest of my life - Jesus Christ save the fucking speech you pussy.") See, they get each other.

There's a lot to be said about their miscommunication as well, but they clearly get each other, in a way that Fiona and JimmySteve don't. It's like puzzle pieces. Ian and Mickey's pieces fit together, even if there were external forces keeping them apart. Sure, it may not be a perfect fit, but what is in humanity? There's so much beauty in imperfection. Fiona's and Jimmy Steve's pieces didn't fit. There were giant gaps where there shouldn't have been - such as JS's lying problem and Fiona's inability to feel empathy for anything he went through. Have you ever got so frustrated with a puzzle you just try and shove two pieces together so hard because you just want them together so bad? Maybe they'd look better in the puzzle if they went together. No matter how hard you try, they won't fit.

It just doesn't work, and that's so hard to accept. That sometimes, it just does not work.

I thought about this because of the sound trending on TikTok from Ocean's 11.

"Does he make you laugh?"

"He doesn't make me cry."

Anyway, rant over. Again, I'm not talking about the actions of JS or Fiona individually in this, those are whole different essays and I don't like JS enough to rewatch all his scenes and put one together for him. I think I've done one on Fiona though, but my feelings towards her are complicated. I'm talking about them as a couple.

Also, I'm not saying JimmySteve is anything like Mickey, or Fiona is like Ian.

Sorry for the deep stuff, I didn't think this would get so heavy.

[homoautoerotic]

Read a fic where Armand made Daniel piss himself at random times with his mind powers and it kinda made me insane. The fic included problematic bdsm negotiations (or lack thereof, which I'm fine with when it comes to reading fic, but when I say dream about them I prefer to imagine it a bit healthier lol) but now I'm thinking about Armand just making Daniel have accidents at random times, even in public, and Daniel getting so embarrassed and stressed and crying about it while Armand shushes him and tells him it's not his fault that he can't control himself as he gently cleans him up. When Daniel complains because A) Armand made him lose control of his bladder and they both know this and B) he's a able bodied grown man, he should be able to hold in his pee, Armand is just like "well you're just a baby compared to me, baby puppies can have accidents. It's really my fault for not housebreaking you sooner."

Also another mildly related thought is Armand making Daniel pee on puppy pads when Daniel is in puppy space 🫡

this is kind of like an even more fucked up evil version of the kind of orgasm control where someone trains another person to cum on command by a trigger phrase, except here the trigger phrase it literally just Armand having total molecular control over Daniel's body at all times. but yeah Armand would wait until the absolute worst time to make Daniel have an "accident" (lmao in the gay club for example) and then he'd go all good nurse, chiding Daniel while cleaning him and gagging him with his own soiled underwear before taking him against the nearest flat surface

Daniel would also absolutely have to both use and then get fucked on a puppy pad, like Armand would not let him leave it for hours at a time, including to use the bathroom ("your bathroom is right there, Daniel, as is your bed")

[zebulontheadult]

I understand this can't be what you mean, but when talking about this, for safeguarding purposes, you should explicitly state that it is not acceptable to ever make any assumptions about consent, regardless of someone's disabilities. Any communication ambiguity or ambiguity around capacity to consent means you have to assume someone is not consenting and cannot consent to sexual contact. We can never assume what someone's inner world is like, that's true- that's why we must always err on the side of not raping people. The way you phrased this reads as the type of rhetoric used to justify crimes such as Anna Stubblefield's assault of a disabled man, which was enabled by her belief in forms of facilitated communication that allow for these crimes to be justified in the abuser's mind. I get that this isn't what you mean, but it needs to be explicitly made clear, because safeguarding means creating an environment where it's clear everyone is in agreement about what is and isn't sexual violence. Your post as you wrote it creates a grey area that a bad actor can read as endorsing the idea that because someone can consent internally despite an outward lack of successful and unambigous communication, people who can't communicate unambiguously enough (in one medium or another) to clearly demonstrate capacity to consent and consent itself, aren't necessarily being assaulted if touched sexually. They are, it's illegal, it's rape. I get that you must know that but we need to be very explicit on this because this is a very vulnerable population and there are people who want to violate them and can easily convince themselves their victims are consenting.

Hey anon. I’m not even sure how to come about this, or even talk about this subject. This subject is so important, and I think it’s also important to realize. I am intellectually disabled. And autistic, and learning disabled, and schizospec, my wording is not going to be 100% but I will say this now. Not once did I say that I agree if someone is not able to explicitly consent, they can consent. If someone is able to explicitly consent in their manner of communicating, then they consent. If they’re not, then they have not consented.

I want people to realize that there is more ways then verbally saying it because verbal words, aren’t the default for many. Sign language users, AAC users, people who write one letter at a time on a piece of fucking paper. These are all ways that people communicate. Verbal. Words. Aren’t. The. Default. That’s what I’m getting at.

It’s also important to realize that a LOT an insanely amount of people with ID are purposefully withheld being taught sex education even if they can comprehend the process of consent. Even verbal, seemingly ok on the outside ID folks who were in special education have been withheld from learning about special education. That’s what I’m getting at.

My posts are not a rapists way of saying “Well you never know they might be able to consent blah blah” No. Consent is explicit. It is something that is heavily debated on within the medical community because they still don’t believe that people with ID, even mild ID, have the minds of adults instead of “children”. Mental age is a HUGE problem, that’s what I’m getting at.

I’m not creating a grey area. I’m not intending to at least. Either someone consents or they don’t, either they’re able to or they’re not. That is between them, their caretakers/parents/support team, and doctors. Although, these people can be wrong. And that’s what I’m also getting at.

Do you see what I’m saying? I’m not creating a grey area, I’m trying to open up a conversation that had been in the ID community for DECADES. Decades of being ignored and being told that ALL people with ID cannot consent when that isn’t true. See what I’m saying?

I hope this helps. Have a nice day.

[presidentbungus]

when engy was like 6 in a science class he heard the money phrase “sound energy lets us hear things” and he was like what. what is sound energy. how does that work. what. and the teacher was like please be quiet and he went home and (4 years old) spent the entire night reading about the mechanics of sound and then how molecules themselves work and he walked into class the next day having an entire lecture prepared about quantum mechanics. he got recess detention for being a disturbance, which wasnt a big deal since he usually just sat under the playset and read anyway, but it’s about the principle. you know?

it drives him UP THE FUCKING WALL that when people say they’re “teaching him things” they mean they’re going to tell him a very small little piece of the actual truth and then just leave it. and sometimes this isn’t from a plain old lack of knowledge but a lack of CARING which is BONKERS to him. engy lives and breathes knowledge. learning is the reason he exists. it’s insane to him that somebody could find a piece of the fact and just… never follow up? be fine with knowing a tiny fraction of the truth? like what the fuck is up with that

this is a concept he mostly applied to math and science but he also found it convenient to use for reference in interpersonal relationships, which is to say that people never say what they mean and if they do, it’s never enough to draw a good conclusion. and unlike math and science, there’s not mountains of literature on any particular person’s feelings or general outlook on life.

this is a problem engineer attempted to remedy through extensive research on human psychology, but he just found a lot of vague, subjective presumptions, and not really many facts. it’s the subjectivity that kills him. math has answers. science takes time, but you can wrestle firm objective facts out of it if you take the time. people do not have any surefire method or way of interaction, and actually a lot of folks don’t seem to care about hard facts at all. he has autism. that’s it. I’ll finish this later

[yujeong]

For all the time I've been losing my mind over Pete's tattoo (to the point of getting it tattooed on my own fucking body), I've never really talked about it here, have I? Well. Let me do it now I guess.

The first thing I would like to present here is the origins of Pete's tattoo from the novels. I know, I know, the novels suck and I wasn't proud of including it in Trust is a fragile thing but it was compelling enough that it fit Pete's characterization. A broken clock shows the correct time twice a day or however the phrase goes. Apparently, Tankhun forced all his bodyguards to get tattoos at some point, and Pete got that one for reasons I'm not aware of. I've heard people say that Daemi found the phrase nice and tbh, I believe those people. The purpose of its usage becomes clear in this snippet taken directly from the novels:

(I can go on a whole ass rant about what we're witnessing here, but I'll spare you the headache.) So, what is the actual origin of the phrase? For the people who don't already know, it's from "All's Well that Ends Well", a play written by Shakespeare. It's about a woman who's given in marriage to the man she longs for, but, because she is of lower rank, he refuses to accept the marriage. The phrase, as always with Shakespeare, has more than one meaning and shouldn't be taken at face value. I had found a wonderful analysis about it here:

I find it fascinating how it works with Pete so well, despite Daemi being oblivious to its true meaning. I also find the fact that it works for Pete no matter how you interpret the phrase, equally fascinating. You can take it literally and connect it with Pete's job; how he's honest about the violence he inflicts, the activity he's enacting for the Theerapanyakuls, how he's accepted the nature of it, how "there are no heroes or villains in this world" and so on. You can add his loyalty in there too and make it even juicier. You can also take it ironically and connect it with Pete as a person; how he's not actually honest - he's not open about himself, his desires, his feelings - so with this, it's like he's admitting that he has no legacy. It encapsulates his lack of personhood and it's fucking brilliant. Him sneering at Vegas slightly when he told him "There's no such thing as honesty in this world" after seeing the tattoo on Pete still gives me brainworms, because both of them are thinking of different things here. To me, Pete is thinking of the literal sense which I described above, while Vegas is talking about how people are deceitful and will just lie through their teeth to get what they want (like him). I don't know if that's what the intention was, but them having completely different concepts in mind is something I believe strongly. Now, one very, very important aspect of Pete's tattoo is its position. In the novels, it's on his chest, more specifically on his left side, where his heart is:

Not so subtle, Daemi, huh? The show changed that, as we all saw, and ooohhh what a glorious choice, I love it so much. For a couple of reasons:

The position is more sexual, which contradicts Pete's seeming naivety in regards to sex and romance in the show (proof being, every interaction he had with Porsche, plus the infamous "Kissing is for people we like only"), making everything he and Vegas did in ep12 not come out of nowhere.

It's super fucking low. Obviously it is, given it's his hip but I implore you to look more carefully at the screenshot I shared above, because the distance between his belly button and his tattoo rivals Kinn's open shirts. Istg you can see faint hints of pubic hair right below "No legacy", I swear I see it I'm not insane.

The tattoo being so low means Pete will only be able to see it when naked. I say only naked because even with only his underwear on, it's still hidden. Almost like it's something he'd want to hide even from himself, hmmm curious.

Another fun thing about the tattoo, which kind of applies to both the novel and the show, is the fact that, since it's a phrase, Pete will not be able to read it unless he looks in a mirror and sees the reflection (something I realized by wanting to read my own lol). Alas, another barrier Pete puts on himself to prevent introspection. (I will not touch upon mirrors here, but Pete and mirrors oooohh, what a concept I would love to explore one day.) I could talk about this all day, but I think I got the main points across. I lovelovelove this so much and I'd love to see if there are more analyses of Pete's tattoo out there. Please bring them to my attention if you have them.

[11x13kyle]

i'm behind on microceleb lore so sorry if this has been asked but what's the WORST thing that everybody in this au has done in their Celeb Era?

cartman: honestly the hardest to even know where to START because it’s cartman. he’s done every bad thing in the world. if i had to pick, i’d probably say the unhinged levels of racism and antisemitism! he’s got a bucket list of evil shit to do and tries to check at least one item off a week.

kyle: crucially, the worst things that kyle does are more passively bad. it’s less that he actively does bad shit (besides occasionally dogpiling on 15 year olds on twitter) and more that he allows it to happen by virtue of being part of fireside. he isn’t touting right wing talking points, but he platforms people who do, which also isn’t exactly great!

kenny: he has slept with people while having full knowledge of them having a history of like. violence, predatory behavior, insane fringe dangerous beliefs, etc. and straight up does not care at all about it. he also sold fent-laced weed to 13 year olds when he was like 18-19 years old.

stan: also kind of passive shittiness, kind of like kyle’s, because of the way he claims to support all of these left wing causes and advocates for them for all of five minutes before dropping them entirely out of boredom and/or lack of attention, and that he does all of this while being close w/ people like cartman (who he has also never publicly criticized). and there was also that lady he ran over in malibu in a hit and run a while back.

butters: active selling and trading of nfts. saying horrifically misogynistic shit all the time and publicly shaming women for existing. has had andrew tate on his show and is constantly calling for him to be freed from jail.

clyde: he’s a landlord. and he’s straight. and just generally he’s a douche so i’m sure he was involved in some fucked up lord of the flies esque hazing ritual in his frat in college.

tolkien: repeated instances of poorfishing that he refuses to acknowledge as wrong because he truly does not see anything wrong with it. also he calls his girlfriend his partner in a way that intentionally makes himself seem ambiguously queer.

jimmy: one time while on a mind numbing amount of steroids he beat the shit out of some random dude at a bar. there wasn’t even a motive it was purely out of a love for the game.

wendy: just so many White Feminist takes. wrote an article for vice once about white women existing as their own oppressed class and got a shit ton of flack. she doesn’t actually apologize, just says “sorry if you didn’t understand the phrasing” and doesn’t change anything in the article. she also gets a lot of shit for making a bunch of posts around the time of the 2020 election that suggest that if you vote bernie over warren in the primaries that you are a fake leftist and hate women.

craig: he does a lot of ads for things that he doesn’t use and doesn’t check before hand so he’ll promote things that are actively harmful and/or run by awful people and even after finding out about it he doesn’t do anything or even stop the ads because he truly does not care as long as they run him his check. also every time someone calls him out for some shit like racism or misogyny he’s like. irdgaf. he never apologizes for anything.

tweek: he’s a very paranoid person so he has a bunch of these weird, often tinfoil-hatty beliefs that make him seem unhinged at best and actively spreading harmful messages at worst. tweek hears anything that’s like “this secret thing is trying to kill you and the government doesn’t want you to know.” and he’s like GHHHHHGGHH AGGHJHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! GUYS YOU HAVE TK HEAR THIS SHIT OHHH MY GODDDDDDDDDD!!!!!! (what he proceeds to say has no factual basis but he’s talking as if it’s proven fact)

[autumnalmess]

Unpopular opinion: does anyone else just fucking hate the 1985 original London recording of Les miserables or is it just me?? I'll give my propaganda reasoning below, give that a read first:

Okay, my reasoning:

OBVIOUSLY Colm Wilkinson is incredible. Not disputing that. So slightly remove that from the equation when I say I don't like this recording. Of course, a lot of the singers are really great (specifically Marius, Eponine, Cosette, jvj, fantine, Enjolras, loads of the Amis), and there are some songs that I like, but as a whole it feels really clunky.

In terms of timing, I know it was more of a concept album for England and they obviously changed a lot of bits afterwards, but in the recording it feels like all of the singers are very unsure of the timings. Whether this is because they actually were or because of artistic decisions to phrase things strangely, in the listening experience, it really comes across with an uncertain feel. Nothing seems to come in quite at the right time, and a lot of the singers will be just a couple of beats delayed in their coming in, which they may have been instructed to do by the musical director, but it feels strange all the same. And a lot of the singers play around with the timings so much that it feels at odds with the accompaniment.

Second, this is gonna be an insanely unpopular opinion, but I think Roger Allam in this specific recording (not commenting on his performance live) is a bit abysmal. He's an insanely talented actor and I love him in the thick of it, but here he does not show off his ability as a singer well at all. He speaks most of the lines, which is fine for some songs but feels awkward when he's really baring his soul in the soliloquy. Also his technique as a singer is really questionable. The way he holds his consonants completely restricts his vocals, giving it no vib and no room to grow especially on the big notes, it does not do justice to the build of the music. Furthermore, I feel he skims over the tops of the notes a lot, which really pisses me off because in a piece of music so carefully curated like Les miserables, every note is important to the flow and the harmony. This is not to slag him off. I'm sure he was good in performance, but I feel this specific recording does not reflect that.

Musically, they don't go ham with the drums enough. If you want to understand what I mean, just listen to the french version. Also, the music in this version, again, feels a little uncertain. Like there are points where a couple of instruments are playing a melody, and theres a countermelody that doesn't really sound like it fits. And you know it just needs a third harmony to bring it all together. It's just little things that make it sound less refined as a whole. (Side note but this pisses me off: a lot of the time the songs are a lot slower in tempo than all the other recordings and it just feels like it lacks energy a bit)

Propaganda time: The main reason I don't like this one is because it's not as good as the french version, which feels consistently refined and energised and raw. The emotion comes through from all of the singers so much more, without losing track of the notes or the rhythms. All the singers have wonderful technique, specifically jvj and Javert, which makes their songs so much more powerful. Just listen to Comment faire? (Same as Who am I) and youll get what I mean about the drums and the countermelodies. Also they have some baller theme and variation in that song which really brings out the music student in me.

Conclusion: I'm absolutely so sorry if I've just ripped apart your favourite recording. Do feel free to ignore everything I've just said because most of these are just like teeny tiny little things that annoy me specifically. And I'm sure most of this is just because I've spent too much time listening to the french version that now I turn my nose up at perfectly respectable other versions. If you love this one, you're valid. And I do listen to some of the songs on it. I love their little fall of rain and finale. I just can't stand roger allam's soliloquy or stars.

[trimanulo]

A few of my theories on Beavis and Butthead!

1. I think everyone noticed that Beavis did not invent a woman for himself. Instead, he came up with a Butt-head, which he was probably really waiting for. Beavis has always had strange tendencies, which I attribute to his orientation. After spending many years with Butthead, he just doesn't think about women anymore, because a friend has completely replaced them. Most likely, he even likes that Butthead beats him, for Beavis this is something normal, so much so that with each season he began to beat Butthead less and less in response. It seems to me that Beavis loves Butthead, but he can't admit it in any way, because he denies it in himself and believes that butthead will not take his feelings seriously.

2. Beavis was raped, and in my opinion more than once. In many episodes of the old seasons and in the last one, he told about a man who "did something to him", Beavis is not a virgin and was sexually assaulted. And not only in adolescence, but also in childhood, which indicates his fear of touching from other people.

3. Butthead was raised by his uncle, his mother's brother. But the mother seems to have visited her son, as she told Butthead that his father had died. Also, Butthead's uncle is most likely not poor, since he allowed his cousin to put braces on his teeth, and this is not cheap.

4. Beavis' mother did not abandon him. Beavis always remembers her and it seems that it was she who paid taxes for the house in which the boys lived for a long time. As it was in "Beavis and Butthead beat the universe", the mother found out that her son had died and she "out of grief" put the house up for sale. Perhaps she hates her son and that's why she left him alone in her house, and she lives with some rich uncle. But in any case, she does not forget about Beavis and maybe they even see each other sometimes.

5. Butthead's uncle is the rich husband of Beavis' mom. That's why these two were merged together into one house. And the phrase "I fucked your mom" came to Butthead from his uncle when he told Beavis her as a child.

6. If you sleep with Beavis or Butt-head, then you will have a new Beavis or Butt-head, who will be 100% together again later. As it was with the fathers of Beavis and Butthead.

7. Butthead does not hate Beavis, on the contrary, he loves his friend for all his stupidity. And even when Beavis is talking complete nonsense and she annoys Butthead, he says the phrase "I'll pretend I didn't hear it." But in no way offends a friend for his mental abilities.

8. Butthead always followed the "Great Corn" not only to laugh, but he also kept an eye on Beavis so that he did not do things. Perhaps it was he who brought him home after the attack and followed him everywhere so as not to lose sight of him.

9. Beavis insanely likes abuse from Butthead, that's why when butthead became good, Beavis hated him. Perhaps he just lacks touch and tactility, that's why he found them in the strokes.

10. Beavis and Butt-head may be disappointed by the fact that after sex, nothing has changed in their lives and the guys, having fulfilled their dream, will come to the conclusion that they have no one but each other and nothing else and can not be. That's it!

[c0rpsedemon]

ok not to be insane i mean neurodivergent but back in 2020/2021 when i was like 15 i was so deeply lonely that it was overriding parts of my personality and my sole goal in life was to get strangers on the internet to love and care about me (i didn't succeed once but i unintentionally came close the first few cyberstalking incidents bc ppl felt bad for me but i fucked it by being like 'lol dw i'm fine this is funny to me' and by the time it actually was having a mental toll everyone else who was following along stopped giving a shit) . and you see, way back when it was fairly common for ppl to have personal '[x] don't look' trigger tags they'd ask the mutuals to use if they weren't going to otherwise tag smthing (something which has fallen out of practice bc of the fact that it's an objectively Bad Idea to put lists of things that are upsetting to you in your bio + it's impractical when you could just as easily put 'incest tw' 'gore tw' 'abuse tw' on all that tcoaal fanart you totally definitely rb (or expect this hypothetical person to have all variants of the tcoaal tag blocked already) and help out your non-moots who mights not want to see it either) but anyways . this was a common practoce and i'd see these tags around and be like 'wow . ppl are mentioning this person by name! wouldn't that be wonderful!' bc i was, once again, extremely desperate. like grizabella the glamour cat andrew lloyd webber memory 10 hr loop desperate for any sort of acknowledgement and so much as being namedropped was the high point of my average month bc i was otherwise so alone and miserable. so i was like 'i want to be cared for too' and decided that having ppl use a 'romeo don't look' tag was the most efficient way to do that w/o actually dming ppl (i started 1 conversation in this era, it led to nothing, and i had convinced myself that i was being an unwanted burden and if anyone did want to hear from me they'd contact me first . + i was so far gone at this point that any dm i'd send first would probably have been so unsettling that i'd do more harm than good so in rhetrospect it was probs for the best that i didn't) since making public posts desperately begging for companionship didn't even yield pity likes from those i was trying to impress . the part of this plan that was flawed though is that i now had to think of things that'd realistically be upsetting to me but also wasn't self aware at all so i went w like . bugs and unsanitary things bc those were icky . and a specific transphobic phrase that used to make me rlly sad. which is ridiculous bc like . toughen up . also re:self awareness I LITERALLY HAD AN EATING DISORDER AT THE TIME . IF THERE WAS ANY POSTS I SHOULDN'T BE LOOKING AT THEY WERE ONES ABT FOOD OR WEIGHT IN ANY CONTEXT. BUT THAT WOULD REQUIRE COMMON SENSE AND SELF PRESERVATION SKILLS AND NOT 'IRONICALLY' OPENING THE THINSPO TAG WHICH ARE SKILLS I SO DESPERATELY I LACKED . anyways my scheme, as w all others from this era, didn't work, either bc the things i listed were uncommon or bc no one gave a shit . who's to say.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Hello! i saw the ask game and i wanted to ask your opinions about my best guy Theoden!

Love your blog!

<3 <3 hello hello! Yess, he is the best!

First impression

I always loved him. It's the soft dad vibes that he gives off in the film and I always transposed those onto book version of Theoden as well, even if they aren't as front-and-centre.

Impression now

As you all know I have a soft spot for imperfection and Theoden is very much an imperfect leader who is trying his damndest in an impossible situation.

I love his fear of being like his ancestors (sure "lesser son of greater sires" but in the immediate memory Fengel and Thengel weren't anything to write home about and I'm sure Theoden had the "don't be like your grandfather" running in his head), which is a nice parallel to Aragorn's own fears and concerns. That certain weaknesses are "inherited" or you're somehow doomed to repeat the failings of your forefathers.

I also really appreciate Theoden's practicality and realism. This is definitly shown way more in the books than in the films.** But he is so pragmatic and realistic about what is happening and has a strong, stable workman-like air to his leadership as king and general. It's very grounding and a nice compliment to the high fantasy that is happening around them all.

--

**I have Views & Opinions on what PJ did with Theoden in the films in relation to Aragorn

Favorite moment

In the movies, I love all of his speeches. My favourite, favourite scene is "but do you trust your king/where is the horse and the rider" bit with Gamling. Second up are the paralleling scenes of "I know your face" with Eowyn. Soft dad vibes <3 <3

In the book, I naturally have my favourite scene is when he's missing Grima and having those complex feelings of "I'm angry at this man for what he has done and his betrayal, while at the same time I'm grieving the relationship we used to have/the man he once was." It's so very human.

I just love Theoden's deep humanity. A feature so often missing in the race of Man who are usually more High Arthurian, for lack of a better way to phrase it. Not that the likes of Aragorn and Faramir don't have their deeply human moments, they for sure do, but Theoden is consistently the most deeply human of the leaders, aside from Denethor, and I really like that.

Idea for a story

There's a part of me that's a secret Theoden/Grima shipper, so you know. Anything utterly tragic in that department with some bittersweet hope(?) at the end. Kill me where our love hurts most, my liege.

Otherwise, I would love an exploration of Theoden and his father's relationship and how he positions himself within the frame of his father and grandfather's legacy. Also his changing views on what it means to be Rohirrim - considering I am sure he has a complex relationship with that. He's more comfortable in Westron and Sindarin than the language of his own people! That's got to have some complexity to it.

Unpopular opinion

I'm not sure I have one on Theoden? I feel like most of my opinions are pretty par for the course.

Favorite relationship

Definitly Eowyn. I love the father-daughter vibe happening with them. I wish we saw more of it.

Favorite headcanon

When Theoden adopted Eomer and Eowyn he went around to everyone in Meduseld apologising in advance. People were like "?? your niece and nephew seem charming and lovely ??" and Theoden was like "ok but you don't understand: They are the Children of Eomund. This is going to be INSANE."

He always loved them, of course, but they were little terrors. You know that dual thing of dealing with grief of losing parents/being orphaned at a young age and how that can lead to lashing out plus natural peronalities being on the fiery side.

Theoden just like, put everyone on High Alert.

(lol Grima would have been like mid-late twenties and Theoden is like: New Guy, do you like children? And Grima is all: Abso-fucking-lutely not. Why? Theoden: No reason. Gamling, I was wrong, we can't put the new guy on baby-sitting duties.)

----

Thank you!!! Theoden is just, ah, one of my top tier faves. And thank you, I'm glad you enjoy my wee lil' tumblr :D