#had to truncate some you know how it is

[nichuuu]

Beats Me - 6: Come As You Are

Word count: 8k+

Of course, there’s a chance to turn away from all of this—a chance to stop her hand as it reaches the base of your shaft, a chance to halt her in the midst of tiptoeing to place a peck on your neck; there’s a clear opportunity for you to end what’s happening right here and now—it’s all a matter of how willing you are to go through with this. While your brain screams at you to stop, your body says otherwise; you lift a hand to cup her cheek.

As you tell her, “Just for tonight,” a wisp of a smile appears on her face, and you wonder, What am I doing.

---------

A call from Kim Minju at this hour is never good news. 

To give context: It’s one in the morning on a Saturday. Office workers and the youth above the legal age for drinking are patronising drinking spots, throwing back a couple of beers and basking in the euphoria that alcohol brings them. Perhaps they're using alcohol to cope with the stress of their lives, or maybe they're trying to numb the pain of recent difficult experiences. In both cases, emotions are running high, alcohol is coursing through their systems, memories are resurfacing, and maybe, just maybe, tears are streaming down their cheeks—nothing too out of the ordinary. If you were to receive a call from anyone else at this hour, you would've thought it a request to be escorted back home, or a soused friend dialling in to say incomprehensible things before truncating the call.

But for more context: Kim Minju has been the bearer of bad news since highschool. If you are to combine this with the information above, you know that something has probably gone down, and you’re the only man she can trust to help them. She never calls you on a whim; every call from her is a desperate cry for help. 

As you stare at her caller ID on your phone that vibrates on the table like it’s possessed, you start steeling yourself for what is to come. You’re hesitant to answer, but basic human decency gets the better of you. You can hear the deafening roar of club music in the background when you pick up, and Minju’s yelling into the phone. Even in the quiet of your apartment, you can’t make heads or tails of what she’s trying to convey to you. Even as you holler I can’t hear you at the top of your lungs, she continues to blabber her intelligible words over the pulsing bass of that horrible song that’s playing in the background.

Then it suddenly gets quiet on the other end, and for a moment, you only hear the sound of your heartbeat crunching in your ears. When Minju speaks again, you can hear the wind blowing by in the background, your indication that she’s exited the club. Her voice rings loud and clear in your apartment. 

“Eunbi’s driving to your place, she’ll explain everything,” she’s telling you. “She’ll text when she arrives, get ready to be picked up.”

The urgency in her voice drives you to acquiescence, and you throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. Couple of minutes later, you’re seated in the front seat of your singer’s car. She’s running you down on the events that have occurred tonight, and the multiple mentions of Chaewon makes your heart sink further and further. 

It was enough dealing with her in the band. That shrill frequency she could produce with that trumpet was often aptly used to deafen you whenever she could (she sat on your direct right so she could be a bitch with ease). The bowl she used to collect her saliva was often “accidentally” (the way she said that word with such bogus innocence really brought you to your boiling point sometimes) spilt on to the leg of your jeans when you walked by, her trumpet case “coincidentally” (again, bogus innocence with this one) be in the way of your shin as you tried to get to your kit. Her behaviour wasn’t the culprit behind your irritance towards her, rather the fact that her behaviour failed to reflect what she had requested for when the two of you schismed—a clean break.

“She’s thrown up twice now.” Eunbi’s tone is a mish-mash of frustration and commiseration, “She refuses to move, and she's been groped twice. We don’t mean to drag you into this, but you’re the last feasible option.”

There’s an odd feeling of nihility in your chest as the two of you come to a stop at a red light. In the band, you dealt with her on a physical level. But when Kim Chaewon and alcohol merge, you know that you’ll have to deal with her on an emotional level, and that somehow fails to engender any spite or frustration of the ilk. The silence that hangs in the car is unsettling in light of the confusing sensations you’re experiencing (and also due to the fact that usually chatty Eunbi is finding it hard to start a conversation in this atmosphere), yet you find that you’re poised. 

“I’m uh… I’m actually your highschool senior,” Eunbi decides to input, “I used to go to the same school as you, Chaewon and Minju…”

You remain reticent. Eunbi takes the cue and returns her eyes to the road. 

The bouncer almost didn’t let you in because of your shabby fit, but a quick wink and a, he’s with me, from Eunbi was enough to get him to let you through. You easily spot Minju amidst club-goers once you get in.  Those long, luscious jet black locks that flow just past her shoulders and those large round eyes that always seem to be doleful quickly catch your attention as you wade through the sea of people together with Eunbi. She looks the same as she did all those years ago. She stands when you approach; Kim Chaewon’s slumped over the table they’re at. 

“Thank god you’re here.” Her expression tells you that she’s been through quite the ordeal tonight. “I… I hope you understand that—”

She stops mid sentence when you hold up a hand. You understand that such a gesture is impertinent of you, but you can’t help it—there’s too much to process, too much to take in, and a club isn’t the best place to assimilate it all (or to find a lover, an ex lover in this case). Minju steps aside, and you take a moment to look at the sorry sight of your ex—face down on the table of the booth seat and an empty shot glass in hand. 

“What do you want me to do?” you ask them. The two girls look at each other, then Minju tells you to do whatever it takes to get her out of here. 

So there you are—contemplating on whether you should dump a bucket of ice on her or gently wake her up. Basic human decency gets the better of you, and you slide onto the couch next to Chaewon, gently tap the bare shoulder that’s exposed in her outfit. When she raises her head off the sticky, glossy table, you’re momentarily reminded of the countless times you’d woken her up in the same way when she fell asleep in the school library.

Then those eyes—half-lidded and swimming in tears—lock onto yours. The volume of her voice pales in comparison to the blaring House remix of the Barbie theme, yet when she calls your name, it’s the only thing you can hear. She shifts closer—close enough to rest her head on your shoulder, close enough for you to smell the vodka on her breath as she silently sobs against you; Don’t go, don’t leave, she slots in between those heart wrenching cries. Right now: emotions are running high, alcohol is coursing through her system, memories are resurfacing, and tears are definitely streaming down their cheeks. 

Eunbi and Minju look on in silence. Eunbi’s lips are pursed, Minju’s eyes are somehow more doleful. Their looks are doing nothing to assuage the turmoil that you’re feeling. You find yourself saying things that you were never prepared to say. 

“She can stay at my place for the night… I doubt she’d want to go anywhere else.”

They look apprehensive, but deep down—they know you’re right.

***

“Uh… Are you sure you want to present this?” 

Chaewon looks up from her presentation script to give a simple, “Hm?”. You were scratching your head as you read over the vivid description of Kurt Cobain's death that she’d included. It detailed the nature of his death, the brutal imagery of small, tiny shotgun pellets blowing a hole through the skull of Nirvana’s frontman on the night of his suicide described in an unnaturally calm tone, as if people shooting themselves through the head with a shotgun was an everday occurance. 

“I mean…” You were doing your best to not sound reprehensive, “I don’t think Miss Kim would appreciate the… Visceral imagery.”

Her look was one of innocence as she asked, why not, and proceeded to further justify her vivid depiction (her argument was that Lee Chaeyeon had presented on Aviccii’s death in equal vividness and your teacher enjoyed it). The theme of the presentations for the week was “the talented die young”, and she’d decided to talk about one of her favourite bands at the time. She was blasting their hit song Smells Like Teen Spirit through the speaker in her room, and you were finding it hard to focus over all that grunge (you didn’t tell her of course, cause that would’ve made her pouty for the rest of the day).

That was one of your fondest memories from dating her. It showed you her tenacity and her stubbornness in insisting that she was correct. It showed you just how determined and strong-willed she could be. You found that you could still recall every detail of that moment as vividly as she described Cobain's death while you watched her walk around your kitchen from the doorway to your room. Her hair is in disarray, the set of clothes that you’d passed her baggy on her slender frame. For the record: She knows how she got here, she knows where she is, she knows you’re awake, and she knows that you’re watching her. In spite of all this, her movements are calm, her hand taking its time to trail across your cabinets as her eyes slowly soak in her surroundings. 

“You know, for someone that said that they wanted a clean break—you’re making things messier than they should be,” you can’t help but tell her. Her hand stops on the handle of your cabinet, her index finger affixing itself there for a minute as she lowers her head. With a sigh, you stuff your hands into your pockets and tell her, “Get out once your hangover wears off.”

You retreat back into your room to get some work done. When you emerge around lunchtime, you find that she’s taken liberties in your kitchen, a piping hot bowl of noodles sitting opposite her at your dining table as she silently slurps on a bowl of her own. You stand there for a moment, then you accost the eating space and stop just before her. 

“Are you being for real?” You can’t help but let the revulsion seep into your words, “You’re telling me that your hangover has lasted this long?”

She’s unwontedly silent. Her pugnacious, bratty nature seems to have dissipated into thin air, replaced by one of taciturn and timidness as she stares blankly into her noodles. She doesn’t look up when you sigh and slide into the other seat, nor does she say anything when you start digging into the noodles that she’s prepared for you (you aren’t one to pass up on a free meal, even if it’s prepared by your ex). 

It’s when you're halfway through your bowl that she finally pipes up, “thank you for taking me in.”

You go still for a moment. 

Then you choose not to reply to her. 

After washing up, you communicate to her that she has till sundown to leave your abode before you head back to your room. You know that she’s going to stay like that stubborn patch of mould beneath the snare drum in the recording studio when you hear her playing Smells Like Teen Spirit on her phone through the door. Once again, that damn song is reminding you of how tenacious and stubborn she can be. Those two traits of hers were really double edged swords for that woman.

Night comes; she still hasn’t left. When you exit your room, you find that she’s asleep on the floor. It seems that she’s found it congenial to sleep on the carpeted surface, even though the futon that you provided her last night is literally an arms length away from her sleeping body. Seeing her that way, you’re momentarily reminded of the times she’d stay over at your place while you were dating, and she’d choose to nap on the floor while you worked—even though the bed was empty. The reasons as to why she chose to do so are still unknown to this day—one of the many unsolved mysteries in your relationship, second only to why she’s being the way she is despite what the two of you have previously agreed on.

To be absolutely clear: the two of you know why you broke up. It wasn’t a case of a one-sided sudden change of heart; there was a reason behind it that you both understood (even though you did need a lot of time to come to terms with it). Yes, it was painful. Yes, it was unexpected. Yes, you did miss her for quite some time. But there wasn’t much you could do about it. She’d set her mind on the breakup, and her stubbornness and tenacity had her on wits end when you tried to talk to her. 

Was there a possibility the two of you could’ve stayed together? Your answer—yes. Her’s—only God knows what goes through that confusing brain.

Once more, basic human decency drives you to do things you don’t want to, and you end up cooking a share of fried rice for her. You lay her bowl next to her on the floor along with a spoon before seating yourself at the dining table to eat. You’re about halfway through a video essay about some game you’ll never play when she stirs from her slumber. 

She spots the bowl, then her gaze wanders to you. Silently, she picks it up and rises to her feet. Now it’s her turn to accost the eating space, except she isn’t belligerent, nor can you sense any hostile intentions.

“Can I sit?” She’s oddly genteel as she points at the chair opposite you. You’ll just end up sitting even if I say no, is your reply. She allows a soft, short chuckle before she slides in. You think about turning off the video essay, but then you decide to not let basic human decency get the better of you this once. 

So with some random guy’s voice filling the air, you and Chaewon partake in your meals in silence. You try not to look at her, but you can’t help but throw a few glances her way as she eats. She decided to grow out her hair over the past few weeks, dye it auburn, and now it drapes elegantly past her shoulders like silky curtains. You can’t read her expression (though you never could to begin with), and you certainly can’t understand why she’s become so quiet. She’s trying to make you lower your guard, soften you up then launch some manipulation tactic is what you’re considering. You won’t put it past her to use a facade of milquetoast nature to try and break past your boundaries. 

“I’ll be out by tomorrow morning,” she suddenly tells you. That was the first time you tore your gaze away from your phone for more than five seconds. How would one normally reply to such a statement? Oh, okay, seems to be one of the better options, yet you choose to go with, “Good, cause I’m not planning to overstay your welcome.”

Chaewon plucks a rice grain off her top lip. “But you’d let Eunbi or Ryujin stay, right?”

There you were, hoping that she’d be as timid and quiet as she’d been for the rest of the day. The nap must have gotten rid of the rest of the hangover, cause you can hear the haughtiness in her voice. 

“Are we really going to have this conversation?” you ask her. The firm look she fixes you with tells you, I’m gonna run my mouth on you whether you like it or not. 

“And here I was thinking you’re being a decent human for once,” you can’t help but mutter. “You’re fucking confusing you know that?”

She bristles in her seat. “You watch your fucking mouth player.”

You’re not one to take offence from such comments. Normally, you’d understand that in the heat of the moment, people can say hurtful things that they don’t mean. It’s natural, completely natural—the adrenaline, the emotions, the tension… All of it can melt together in the form of nasty words that spew forth from a person’s mouth. 

But when it comes from Kim Chaewon’s mouth however… You can’t seem to find that sympathy in you. She knows that you’ve slept with your singer and bassist, she knows that they’ve had you more than once—it’s right for her to feel this type of anger (even though the two of you aren’t even together anymore), yet there’s no part of you—not even a single atom—that wants to take the time to try to understand where she’s coming from and why she feels this way.

“Player?” You don’t mean to sound as pissed as you do. “Player?” you echo again, just for good measure, “What gives you the right to call me that? I’m not the one who couldn’t wait for their partner!”

“It was two years!” Chaewon cries.

“Well you could’ve at least tried.” You’re not even bothering to filter your words now. “You’re a hypocrite for calling me a player when you couldn’t even wait for me.”

“Two fucking years! Do you really expect me to close my heart to love for two whole years just so I can wait for you to get out of the damn military!” The way her tone conveys how right she thinks she is pisses you off, “I’m a human! I need love! Do you really expect me to wait for it for that long?”

She’s on her feet now, hands on your table, breaths heavy. 

She screams, “It’s your fault for signing on so early! It’s your fault for ever thinking that I’d wait!” 

You shoot up from your seat and cry, “Well then damn me for ever trying to believe in you!”

Her face contorts into a snarl. She skirts the table, accosts you with her arm whizzing through the air; she slaps you across the face. As the sting lingers on your cheek, you find your fingers curling into fists. 

“You’re horrible!” She’s hollering at the top of her lungs, “I wish that I never met you!”

For a moment, there’s only the sound of her heavy breathing. Then those eyes—bulging in their sockets and swimming in tears—lock onto yours. She looks just as she did the night the two of you broke up: hair slightly messy, face twisted in a mix of woe and fury, right up in your face as her face starts to flush under the intense assault of emotions and thoughts. She’s close—close enough to grip you by your collar and pull you towards her, crush her lips against yours, kiss you like she did when you were teens. 

And she does just that.

A soft cry slips past her lips, travels into your mouth as she kisses you; It feels exactly the same as it did all those years ago—the meraki, the slight tension in her upper lip, the light quiver in your bottom lip—a familiar comfort you had no idea you missed. Her small waist is captured in your grasp, your face in her hands as she pulls you deeper, kisses you harder. It was like she never left, like she never walked away from you because you had decided to enlist in compulsory military service early so that you could get it over and done with, like she never said, seeing you on the weekends isn't enough for me, I’m sorry. This won’t work out the way you think it will. Let’s just end things off here, nice and clean.

And get this: the whole moment is sweet and all, but deep down, there’s still a small flame of anger alit within you. Even though you kissed her back with equal vigour, you were silently cursing her for making things messier than it had to be; while your hands run through her hair, you find yourself berating her in your head for making you vacillate between missing her and hating her. You aren’t one to be flippant, but Chaewon had the tendency to bring out sides of you that you’ve never seen for yourself. 

Her tongue dives into your mouth, her hand pressed flat against your chest. She’s tugging at the fabric of your shirt, and you’re not sure if she’s trying to pull you closer or signalling for you to take it off. You realise it’s the latter when she guides you hand beneath the fabric of the shirt you gave her, your fingertips grazing the soft skin beneath it. Your palm rests on the flesh of her waist. Her skin was warm to the touch. 

Your mouths part, and you’re quick to ask, What the hell are we doing. She takes a second to catch her breath, then she replies, “I have no clue, but I’m not stopping whatever’s coming next.”

Going with the flow—that was so her. 

You grasp onto the hem of her shirt and gently pull upwards. She’s quick to respond, raising her hands above her head for ease of removal. Then her hands are on your waist band, tugging down at your shorts while your hands skim across her bare skin. She pulls your underwear down together with your shorts, lets them fall and pool around your ankles; her hand is quick to grasp onto your throbbing shaft. 

“Chae.” You can’t help but whisper your pet name for her. She starts placing kisses on your clothed chest, her other hand resting on your shoulder while the hand on your cock begins to stroke it with consideration. She leans in and whispers, “Can we pretend like we never left each other? Just for tonight?”

A foolhardy request. She doesn’t know what she’s doing by asking this of you, nor does she care to consider the possibility that the fulfilment of this request can and will invoke unwelcome emotions in both of you. Of course, there’s a chance to turn away from all of this—a chance to stop her hand as it reaches the base of your shaft, a chance to halt her in the midst of tiptoeing to place a peck on your neck; there’s a clear opportunity for you to end what’s happening right here and now—it’s all a matter of how willing you are to go through with this. While your brain screams at you to stop, your body says otherwise; you lift a hand to cup her cheek.

As you tell her, “Just for tonight,” a wisp of a smile appears on her face, and you wonder, What am I doing.

Her hand on your dick leaves to join and assist the other in undoing her bra. She lets the intimate garment fall to the floor before her, her bare breasts on full display. She’s certainly grown more voluptuous as compared to her eighteen-year-old self, and with that change you find an increase in desire for this woman before you. Chaewon cups her tits with her hands, lifts them up, then lets go; she’s putting on a sordid show. 

“Christ.” Christians certainly wouldn’t approve your usage of the name of their saviour in this abhorrent, impure context. “You’ve… Grown.”

“Puberty works wonders, no?” She’s taken on a playful tone, one that she was always fond of using while the two of you were dating. “Feel them. I know you want to.”

No sane man would ever turn down such an invitation. You can feel her erect peaks poking against your palms as your fingers close around the mounds; your breath hitches when you realise how firm they’ve become. Her hands join yours on her breasts, aiding you and squeezing and kneading while she lets a sigh leave her lips. Then in a whisper, she tells you how much she’s missed this feeling—your hands caressing her just the way she likes, your breath in her ears as you silently play with her like you used to.

Then she asks you, “Do you ever think about me when you fuck those other girls?”

You consider your words carefully. If you’re to be perfectly honest, there were a few times where the sight of Ryujin’s rippling ass cheeks made you think about her; sometimes the way Eunbi moaned reminded you of her. 

But if you’re supposed to pretend like you never left her, some teasing would have to come into play. 

“Depends.” You’re not even trying to hide how smug you are, “In what way are we talking?”

She gives you a look, one that says, you cheeky little fucker, but she plays along of course, offering a soft, Hm, as she pretends to go pensive.

Let’s see—she speaks as she (much to your chagrin) practically rips your hands off her body, all so that she can start circling you—Do their moans sound as cute as mine? Are their bodies as tight as mine? 

She leans in to pop the final question: Do their pussies feel as good as mine?

For the record: No to the first one, a fifty-fifty between yes and no on the second one (they all had amazing bodies). As for the last question, you couldn’t say (not because you didn’t have an answer, but more because ranking them in terms of how good they feel would be doing all of them an injustice).

Dunno, is the answer you offer her, then you follow up with, “Why don’t we find out?”

She smirks and rolls her eyes. “Segueing—impressive.” 

“I’m a laconic man,” you tell her, and, Oh shut the hell up, is her reply as she takes you by the hand and drags you to your room. 

It’s crazy to think that just mere minutes ago, she was on her feet, yelling at you and telling you how odious she finds you; now, she’s on her back, her head propped up against a pillow, still yelling, but she’s telling how good you’re making her feel—Fuck, and, Oh shit is all that’s really leaving her mouth, but the message is implicit—as your tongue applies painfully slow strokes to her soaking pink folds. The hand that slapped you is now scrunching up in your hair, the palm that made your cheek sting pushing your head against her crotch while her toes curl into your mattress. You’re wondering if she’s intentionally pitching up her voice as she moans, or if she’s purposely dragging out her sighs, but it doesn’t take away from the utter sublimity of the act. 

Chaewon’s slick is sweet; it’s tangier than Eunbi’s and tickles your taste buds better than Ryujin’s—you won’t tell her this of course, but it’s not like you’ll have time to communicate all of this while your head being shoved into her pussy. Believe it or not—this is one of the calmer moments of pussy-eating that you’ve experienced, one of the rare occasions where you actually have time to savour the taste of your partner, assimilate the intimacy of it, a far cry from when you were with Eunbi or Ryujin, where the goal was always to make them cum as fast as possible because that’s what they’re craving for. But believe it or not—even though her needy actions make it seem as if she’s desperately chasing her high, Chaewon’s really just trying to make the most of each and every swipe of your tongue, enjoying the way it skirts her clit and laps up her juices that leak out from her pretty, pink folds; all while she’s squeezing her thighs around your ears and begging you, Oh god, put your fingers in me. 

You start with your index finger, using the pad of it to trace the outline of her pussy. Then—just to make sure that she knows that it’s going in too—you let your middle finger join the fray. Your digits graze the skin around her flushed lips, taking their time to cover ground while Chaewon’s reduced to a moaning, mewling mess. What you’re really trying to do here is test the limits of her patience, see how much teasing that small, tight body can really take before her will breaks. It’s a sadistic game you’re playing, but you know that she’s enjoying it as much as you are, even though she is practically screaming at you to stick your digits inside her already.

If there’s anything that this world has taught you, it’s that patience is often rewarding. In this case: Chaewon’s patience was rewarded with the fulfilment of her request. The moan that leaves her half-parted lips is one of satisfaction as you dig your digits into her waiting depths, and they soak in her juices for a minute or two before they start to explore. Her nails dig into your scalp when your fingers dig into the soft flesh on the roof of her pussy. Your name flies out from her lips in a tone of surprise, like she’s taken aback by the fact you remember the exact spot inside her that makes her tick. The smugness on your face says it all, really, and you start to stimulate that spot of sensitive flesh. 

“Oh… Oh my… Oh…” She’s barely able to form the simplest of words. The pleasure you’re providing is racing through her body, filling her from head to toe with perverse need and taking over her bodily functions. You’re not doing anything fancy down there; your fingers are just wiggling against the same spot—a simple action that makes her body react in all sorts of complicated ways: twisting, trembling, twitching… It’s working wonders really. You’re amazed that she’s still as sensitive as ever. 

“Look at you Chae,” you can’t help but deride. “You’re getting so fucking turned by fingers. I don’t remember you being this needy.”

Even if she’s hellbent on retorting, there’s no space for words to leave her mouth—the moans are filling the space in her throat, bottlenecking and filtering out of her mouth in the form of strained cries. From the limited view between her thighs, you make out the image of her biting down on the nail of her index finger. Meanwhile, the nails in your head dig deeper into your scalp, hardly caring for the fact that they may be drawing blood as their owner manages to beg, Keep going. 

Your mouth—now rested enough to continue—rejoins the busy scene; the drawn-out guttural gasp that slides out of her mouth tells you all you need to know—Oh my god. You’re driving me crazy—and you can’t help but smile at the sight of her pleasure stricken face. Chaewon’s barely keeping it together at this point, the dignity that tightly wraps her body is slowly loosening—unravelling at the mercy of your mouth and fingers. The haughtiness, the sheer brattiness—crumbling under the sensations that overwhelm every fibre of her body; now that these perverse thoughts have entered your mind, you find that a dark part of you longs to own her, right here, right now. But of course, patience is rewarding. 

You’re willing to wait.

To say that you’re taking your time to eat her out would be inaccurate. If you’re to be honest, it’s difficult to describe the pace you’re using. Inside of her, your index and middle finger move frenetically, as if you are using them to press the same key on a piano repeatedly to produce the same note—her moans. Outside her, your tongue’s movements are almost sluggish, the broad base of it dragging up her flushed lips before the tip flicks the swollen nub at the top. You’re fully invested, scrupulously ensuring the uniformity of your movements to drive Chaewon to perdition. The movements are neither simple nor complex, rather a middle ground between the two (but you do feel that it leans more towards the former), but it’s enough to drive her crazy. Even if she’s a complicated mess to deal with, deep down—she still enjoys some form of simplicity. 

“Baby.” The way Chaewon’s calling you sends a shiver down your spine, stirring the emotions in your chest and letting some nostalgia bubble up from the depths of it, “I-I’m… I’m…”

Cumming, you complete just as her head violently whips back into the pillow. Then, in arguably the hottest ways possible, Kim Chaewon orgasms. Her thighs clamp around your head, becoming earmuffs as an onslaught of juices assail your mouth. You can hear her mewling past the flesh that surrounds your ears, and the muffled sound is enough to deluge your heart with depraved satisfaction while her body twitches, convulses and strains violently. The last vestiges of dignity that once enveloped her have fallen away, carried off by the sighs and cries escaping from her trembling lips, and as you lift your mouth of her soaking slit and withdraw your juice-slicked fingers, you know that she’s reached a point of no return. 

Patience is truly so rewarding.

“Jesus…” she pants. Once again, believers probably wouldn’t approve of the usage of his name in this context, but something has to cleanse the filth from her body, “When did you get so good at this?”

“Always have been,” you grin. You can tell she wants to roll her eyes, but she hardly has the strength to do so. For a tender moment, you gaze into each other’s eyes and appreciate this moment of inexplicable intimacy, re-living the emotions that were once so present between the two of you. It’s just for tonight. After this, we’ll go back to fighting, you’re telling yourself, and it makes you want to stay like this for a little longer.

But when Chaewon flips herself over onto her belly, the warmth in your chest is shut out and replaced by warped desire. With the tender cheeks of her ass on full display, Chaewon wiggles her behind, inviting you to take your liberties with her body. You take a moment to admire how full they’ve become. 

“Been working on it?” you ask her as you squeeze a handful of flesh. 

“To the best of my ability,” is her reply, followed by, “you like it?”

Your reply is to deliver a soft spank to the right ass-cheek. She barely even yelps upon contact, a small grin on her face as she watches you spread the flesh apart to reveal her entrances. Then she urges you, “Come on now… Pick a hole, fuck it till you fill it with your cum.”

“What if I want both?” You can’t help but be a little cheeky. Chaewon’s bottom lip furls behind her front teeth. 

“I’m not stopping you,” she whispers, “just promise me to cum in me.”

Not a trace of dignity in her words. 

Alright, is what you tell her before your head slips inside of her pussy. You can pinpoint the exact moment where her body almost becomes the only thing to exist in your mind—it’s when those walls clamp down around your shaft, pulsing ever so slightly and still twitching from her orgasm, and it’s enough to make you clench all your muscles while you hilt yourself in her. The sigh you let out hardly synchronises with Chaewon’s gasp. Yet, you find that your thoughts are perfectly in sync as your hands grip onto her small waist, and she props herself up on her elbows and knees. Her hair falls off her back, cascading down her shoulders as she turns her head, catches your gaze to tell you—Own this pussy.

No more words need be said. Eagerly, you begin to pump yourself in and out of Chaewon’s slick, tight pussy, her body tightening around your cock with every thrust in and out, lathering your length with juices that glisten in the low light of your room. The sound of her sighs and gasps quickly rise in volume, a beautiful backdrop to the sounds of your wet shaft penetrating her slick pussy again and again. 

You’ve already lost yourself in her from the moment you stuck your member into her, but you find your grasp on reality somehow slipping further and further with each thrust you make into that amazingly tight body. It’s the nostalgia—that feeling of being able to hold her again, the feeling of being able to fuck her like you did on those nights after you graduated high school, those nights where her parents weren’t home and she wanted you in ever way possible—that’s making you sink deeper and deeper into this new reality that is Kim Chaewon’s body. 

Then her moans start once more; you give in to the carnal emotions that you’ve been doing a really bad job at suppressing, and almost at once, Chaewon becomes the only thing that matters. Her flesh suddenly feels softer than before, her moans and sighs and cries sounding closer and closer to a melody than a haphazard arrangement of notes, and when she rasps for you to fuck her harder, you’re quick to oblige. 

Screw patience, you’re going to take what’s yours right here and now.

Your hands drift up from her waist, grip her shoulders and pull her till her body is almost upright. Your left hand slides down, wraps around her flat tummy; your right follows suit—you’re practically hugging her. Chaewon’s arms reach behind her, lock themselves around your neck and pull her face closer to yours. She doesn’t turn to kiss you—that’d take too much energy, energy that she would rather put into moaning—so you settle on capturing her earlobe between your lips, sucking on it softly while she starts to moan your name. Then, her confessions start. 

I’ve missed this, I’ve missed you… Oh god, I fucking missed the way your cock stretched me out. So good… So fucking good… This pussy was made for your cock.

Those were just some of the many things you managed to make out. The words were hastily assembled, phonics loosely strung together, and then expelled from those beautiful pink lips in a precipitate manner. There were other things like: I love you, I fucking love you and Oh God I love you as well, but your tried not to make to much of it. Even though you’re lost in paradise, lost in her body, your subconscious is still actively fighting to keep her influence out of your head. Things are already messy—both figuratively and literally—as they are, and the last thing you need is to fall in love with memories of Chaewon while you’re fucking her in such a callous, unrelenting manner. Sex and alexithymia towards an ex is never a good combination—yet here you are, rearranging the insides of Kim Chaewon after agreeing to whatever it was you agreed to before you started (it’s not because you chose to forget, but because you truly can’t remember anything past the point where you stepped through the doorway to your bedroom). 

You push away the thoughts (for now), letting them exit your body together with the growl that you release into her ear—Chaewon, why are you so fucking wet?—as your shaft continues to plunge itself between her slick, wet folds. The cheeks of her ass ripple deliciously with each strike of your crotch against hers, eliciting a raunchy exclamation from her body each time she hilts you to the base of your cock. You’re not going particularly fast—Chaewon suddenly has the capacity to reply, I’m always wet for you, baby—but you’re so utterly deep inside her that it’s driving the both of you to perverted elation. The position compromises your speed, but you know for a fact that Chaewon is more than happy to make the trade off, savouring the feel of every inch of you filling her insides at a considerate yet fervent pace. 

“Baby.” Her pet name for you is really doing dangerous things to your feelings, “Harder. Let me feel all of you, just like last time.”

She turns her head to meet your gaze, and it’s only then that you see the tears streaming down her cheeks. Your best guess: just like how nostalgia has its effect on you, it's impacting her too. Her emotions are being dallied with, just as yours are. She’s feeling things that she can’t describe, and she doesn’t know if it’s the rock-hard meat drilling in and out of her that’s making her feel this way, or if it's the fact that she may very well be falling for you again. You may never fully comprehend the intricate workings of human emotions, but as you lean in and gently draw her lips to yours, you hope to help her make sense of her feelings.

Why does she always make things messier than they have to be, your asking yourself, all while her hand finds your left cheek, gripping it tightly as your lips part and she whispers, “Fucking own me. Make this pussy yours, just like you used to.”

Just like last time, just like you used to—two statements that unwittingly conveyed that she’s dabbling in the past in a foolhardy manner. Damn it Chae… Why are you doing this? You’re thinking, even as you’re riotously making her bouncing breasts you handlebars, pinching her stiff peaks with between the gap of your middle and forefinger as you double down on her. You’re wondering, Why do you have to make this so damn complicated, as she leans back into you, and you mark the skin of her neck with your lips. Why couldn’t you just wait for me? Things wouldn’t have to be this way if you just had some damn patience, you’re pondering, all while she starts to throw herself back onto your cock. It’s hard to tell if she truly understands the emotional state she’s put herself in, you tell yourself. The irony of this statement is not lost on you, and you’re inwardly chortling at yourself as you pull yourself out of your own head.

You return to reality, and you find that Chaewon’s cumming once more. Did she announce its arrival? You don’t know. All you know is that her pussy is tightening rapidly around you, her body is shivering and shuddering against you, and her knees start giving out on her. You steady her against your chest, slowing yourself to a halt as you realise how dangerously close to the edge you are. 

When she taps you on the knee, you take it as a sign to gently lay her back down on the bed. With her belly flat against the mattress, Kim Chaewon reaches behind her and spreads her asscheeks with her fingers. She gives you the slightest of nods; you pull out of her freshly fucked pussy, point the head of your cock at the opening of her ass, and begin to press forward.

Chaewon gasps as your head presses against her tight opening, her body refusing to let you in at first—but you press forward with your hips, slowly parting her entrance. Chaewon squirms and quivers as her opening slowly parts, and soon you are finally inside her. Her hands tighten into fists, scrunching up your bed sheets; a grimace of pain overtakes her partially turned head as you penetrate her ass for the first time. She lets a long hiss escape her lips, and you lean down to kiss the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her, bringing your left hand to match hers on the bed, covering her small hand with your own.

Soon you are halfway inside her ass, and you go no further, letting her get used to the new penetration. When you stop moving, Chaewon lets out a long breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

“You okay?” You’re checking on her out of genuine concern. It’s basic human decency, you’re trying to tell yourself, but you have a sinking feeling that she’s unknowingly broken past your defences. 

“Fuck,” she spits, “fuck you’re so big inside me.”

“Do you want to—”

“Fuck no,” she snaps, “fuck, please don’t stop. I want this. I want you. I want you in my ass.”

The soft sigh you let out makes the hair atop her head flail a little as she wipes the tears from her cheeks. She isn’t crying anymore, but she certainly seems a little embarrassed that she let her emotions get the better of her. 

“Keep going.” She can’t seem to raise her head as she speaks, “Fill me, please…”

Basic human decency drives you to compliance, and so you press forward—all the while, your eyes are affixed to the back of her head, your left hand still grasping hers while she shifts around slightly, adjusting herself to take you in better. The small yelps she occasionally lets slip tells you that she’s in discomfort, but not enough to make you stop entering her asshole. It’s too late to turn back now anyway.

It felt like years, but soon you're fully inside her, buried to the hilt inside Chaewon’s ass.

You slowly draw your shaft outside of Chaewon’s tightly gripping ass for the first time, and once it is halfway out, you slowly push back inside her. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and soon you are slowly pumping in and out of her body, your pace relaxed as you enjoy the tight, hot flesh of Chaewon’s body wrapped around your cock. You’re glad that the sheer sublimity of the sensation is removing your ability to think, allowing you to steep yourself in the moment with a turmoil free mind.

Chaewon’s tightness is overwhelming to say the least. Her pussy was tight, but her ass on another level altogether. Not as wet, of course, but almost overwhelmingly tight and hot, grasping you tightly with each entrance and exit like a glove. This would be the first time you’re entering her like this, and you aren’t sure if you’re doing it right, but soon she’s taking you in and out of her ass smoothly, the pain and discomfort of your initial penetration quickly lessening and giving way to the novel, new sensation of pleasure from having her ass filled.

Chaewon lets a short, sharp gasp escape her lips when you fill her to the hilt—one that takes her by surprise given the slight look of shock that you make out on her features. You reach down with your right hand, gingerly grip her chin and tilt her face up so you can get a better look at her face. Her eyes are glazed over now with pleasure, locking to yours as you start pumping in and out of her asshole. After a while her gasps lessen and then end completely as she becomes used to the hard length pumping in and out of her butt. She reaches up with her right hand to hold yours, and she pulls it down her chin until it’s at her throat. You didn’t know she was into choking, and she had never made you do it before. Then again, you’ve never had her ass before either—there’s a first for everything.

You feel her warm neck pulsing beneath your palm. She squeezes the outside of your hand slightly, causing you to clamp a little bit around her slim neck. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her ass to clench even tighter around you: succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you are going insane. The novelty of fucking Chaewon’s ass, your hand around her throat, the carnality, the surprising tenderness of the moment–it’s all so damn overwhelming.

“C-Chae,” you call out to her. Her gaze flickers from the wall to your eyes, and you whisper, “Do you… Do you really want me to—”

“Just fucking do it!” Chaewon gasps, barely attempting to filter the want out of her voice, “Choke me! Cum in me!”

With her permission, you were more than willing to let yourself fall over the edge at this point.

Chaewon’s hand—the one that stops your hand at her throat—tightens, as though willing you to increase your grip on her windpipe. You are still afraid of hurting her—you already feel guilty for causing her pain and discomfort (physically and emotionally). But her hand on top of yours, clasped around her throat, dismissed any worry you may have had about taking things too far. Your orgasm beckons, and the hand around Chaewon’s pale throat tightens involuntarily with each thrust in her hot, tight hole.

Do it… own me—her voice is straining—Make yours again. Choke me while you fuck my ass… Use me! Fill me… Fill my ass with your cum!

With a few final, short, hard thrusts into Chaewon’s ass, you bury yourself as deep inside her as you can before finally letting go. Thick, hot cum spurts from your shaft into Chaewon’s willing depths, her hot, tight ass squeezing and pulsing around your cock as if milking every last drop from you. As you cum, your hand around her throat involuntarily tightens, and the moan that escapes Chaewon’s throat turns into a gasp—the dark part of you takes obscene pleasure in that fact.

Both of your bodies quiver and shake as the intense pleasure of your orgasm overwhelms your senses. It seems to last forever—longer than any other orgasm you’ve had. Nothing else exists for those long seconds, aside from Chaewon’s shaking body beneath you and the hot mess you’ve made inside her.

Your cock pulses a few final times as your orgasm slowly subsides and releases the last spurts of cum into Chaewon’s body and you regretfully come down from your high. After a few more seconds of treasuring the feel of the hot, creamy mess you’ve left inside her, you slowly draw your half-soft cock out of her body. Within seconds, white, pearly semen begins to leak out of her and onto the reddened, sore cheeks of her ass. Your eyes remain glued to Chaewon’s still-quivering form as she tries and mostly fails to collect herself. Slowly, she turns on her side, her whole body heaving like she’s completed a marathon. Her inner thighs glisten, your juices and hers flow down her naked skin. It's now that you remember what you agreed to before you started: Just for tonight…

“Hey…” Her voice has a lilt as she beckons you to her side. “Cuddle with me… Just for tonight.”

There she goes again.

Yeah, right... you sigh inwardly. The way she's looking at you tells you that the feelings brought forth tonight will persist as long as she permits. Maybe, just maybe, you should have turned her down, made her come as she was, and kept her at a distance; but she’s already snuggled up in your arms by the time you finish this train of thought. She kisses you on your jaw, then on your neck, then utters a soft good night baby before nuzzling herself into the crook of your neck.

Physically and emotionally, you've made a mess of her. And, in turn, she's made a mess of you too—physically and emotionally.

But you choose to forget that, just for tonight.

***

She slips out of your apartment at God knows what time, leaving like a thief in the night and leaving a note in her wake: I took one of your shirts. Will return it if I feel like it. 

Then below the message: P.S. Forget that last night happened. Go continue being a player. 

“I… Can’t believe this bitch.” You’re leaning against the door—the place where she’d stuck on the note—as you finish reading it. You decide to crumple it and toss it away—it’s the easiest thing to forget about her anyway. 

To be clear: You had no clue what your opinion on Chaewon was anymore, nor did you know what your status with her was (though the note suggests that she’s going to return to her usual bratty behaviour). Sometimes, you wish that there could be a bright digital sign perpetually hanging above her head, providing interpretations to her erratic behaviour. 

Yea… That would be great.

Just as you throw out her bowl of fried rice, there comes a knock on your door. You’re surprised to find Hwang Yeji standing there by herself. 

“O-Oh… Yeji,” you mutter. 

“That has to be the most asinine statement I’ve ever heard,” she derides. You purse your lips and scratch the back of your head, then you ask, “Do you uh… Need to borrow something?”

Yeji sighs and shakes her head. She’s quick to get to the point, “Are you free this afternoon?”

You nod, then she tells you, “I need you to follow me somewhere today. Meet me in the lobby at 3pm.”

She’s about to leave you with that vague request, but you’re quick to ask what this is about. It’s unwonted of her to suddenly request to meet you, and you’re painfully aware (or at least you thought you were) that she knows that this is unprecedented of her. Laconic and biting as ever, she turns back to you and tells you: I need you to help me talk to someone.

“W-Who?” You’re quick to ask. She turns her back to you as she answers.

“My junior. She wants to be our saxophonist.”

_________________________

What is popping gang. I did not get a chance to look through this thoroughly, nor was I able to get anyone to beta read for me :p. Hope you didn't have your bars raised to high for this.

~Nichuuu

#kim chaewon #chaewon smut #lesserafim smut #le sserafim #chaewon le sserafim #kpop #fanfic #writing #smut

[asksythe]

Dead languages and maybe Wei Ying is long-lost royalty

Today I had a discussion with @pakhnokh​ regarding why Wei Wuxian didn’t know the deeper layer of meaning behind the Lan forehead band. It was a long discussion on Twitter, so I figured I should just make a post here and leave this information out for anyone who might find it useful. 

To start off: The reason why Wei Ying didn't know the deeper layer of meaning of the Lan forehead band was in the book. But it was written in a very opaque way, in one single throw-away line. In the book, when Wei Ying had to copy the Lan rules, he specifically complained that the rules were written in seal script. 

The Useless Ye Olde’ Script

Seal script is a script that predated traditional Mandarin. It was infamous for being needlessly complex and having dozens, if not hundreds different dialects and writing methods. Some forms of seal script were entirely different languages altogether. When Qin Shi Huang united ancient China, he burned a lot of books and forced people to adopt a standard way to write, thus cementing traditional Mandarin as a singular language that is still used today, 2000 years after. A way to visualize how complex seal script was, is that there were 22 different ways to write the word 'sword'.

That is how mind-bogglingly complex it was. And worse, it was the source of much conflict in ancient times. To explain it simply, it was supposed to be one language. But if people could not even agree on how to write the same word, then how could they agree on more important things and cease warring against each other? 

Language standardization was one of Qin Shi Huang’s greatest achievements, if not the greatest, as it laid the foundation for more peace and eventual unification in later dynasties. 

This topic was made into an Academy Award-nominated movie, Hero by Zhang Yimou in 2002. 

(the word ‘sword’ that Qin Shi Huang decided on, thus wiping out the other 20+ ways to write the same word) 

Dating Mo Dao Zu Shi in real history (or, Wei Ying might actually be long-lost royalty) 

In a very interesting turn of events, MXTX has confirmed in her latest interview in Subaru magazine, that the events of MDZS happened during Wei Jin, Southern and Northern Dynasties (commonly referred to as the Six Dynasties era by English-speaking historians, even though these two don’t perfectly line up).

Yes, the same Wei 魏 in Wei Ying 魏婴, Wei Wuxian 魏无羡.

So the events in MDZS took place in the era immediately after the fall of the Qin dynasty (caused by Qin Shi Huang’s death and his sons not being able to measure up). Therefore, Wei Ying’s generation is in a time after the language has standardized into a single form. 

The Lan rules, at least the first set and the meaning of the forehead band, were written about 500 years before Wei Ying’s generation, at the founding of House Lan. So that would put it squarely in the pre-Qin, pre-lingual-standardization era. 

So by Wei Ying’s time, the Lan rules were essentially written in a dead, kinda useless, and very very hard-to-read-because-it-has-some-hundred-different-dialect language. 

That’s on top of the fact that it was probably written in the highest level of 书面语 shumianyu (written language) possible. I.e. extremely condensed and truncated (with zero punctuation). 

So the Lan rules are more or less a very thick law book of a different nation written in the strictest, most condensed dead language that is in no way, shape, or form still in practical use for Wei Ying (and most other people not Lan). Do you feel like reading it? I don’t. 

And that is why Wei Ying never figured out the original meaning of the forehead band despite having copied the rules hundreds of times (first day in class, he was already punished and sentenced to copying the rules 100 times by Lan Qiren). 

Because he was just copying the words without really reading them. This was mentioned when Wei Ying asked Lan Wangji the meaning of the Lan forehead band, and Lan Wangji replied with, you have copied the rules so many times and you still don’t know?  

But isn’t Wei Ying really well-read and smart, and what about the Wen book?

1/ Wei Ying is smart and well-read. There was one throw-away line in the book that mentioned his having read all the books available to him in Lotus Pier, and that he had read all kinds of trivia (including the Thousand Sores and Hundred Holes curse that got put on Jin Zixun). But it was also stated that he favored practical things or things that interested him. Lan rules in dead, extremely hard to read language are… well… yeah…

There was never any mention in canon where he remembered specific Lan rules unless it was literally beaten into him by teenage Lan Wangji.

2/ In the novel, the Lan rules are singled out as the only materials written in seal script. The Wen books were standard issued to everyone who took part in the Wen education camp. So the chance that it was written in seal script is low to none.  

Wei Ying is not the only person who doesn’t know the meaning of the Lan forehead band

Jiang Cheng didn't know either. Jin Ling didn't know either. During the Wen archery competition, when Wei Ying pulled off Lan Wangji's forehead band, he did ask Jiang Cheng what the hell was that, when Lan Wangji and other Lan members reacted like he did something shameful. Jiang Cheng replied with, how the hell would I know? Their house has so many rules. Just stop poking them. 

Jin Ling didn't know until the other Lan teenagers told him. The only characters who know this in canon are all members of Lan house. The impression that Wei Ying is the only one who doesn't know is 100 percent fanon. Keep in mind both Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling are clan heirs, so their education and knowledge of other houses absolutely are not low. 

In fact, the novel specifically shows that.....the rest of the cultivation world is not that clear on the actual specifics of Lan rules either. This is shown when Jin Zixun pressured Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji into drinking wine, a clear violation of Lan rules, and the rest of the cultivators in the banquet cheered him on.

 These cultivators were also heads of Houses or very high-ranking members. Many of them would have studied in Cloud Recess. So again, people who have high education… still know shit all about the actual specifics of Lan rules beyond a vague, general monk-like impression.

About the only other person aside from Wei Ying (and Lan members) who knew the specific rule that Lans do not drink in that banquet was Jin Guangyao, a character whose trademark is high intelligence and extreme social savvy (plus having roomed with Lan Xichen and taken care of him for unknown amount of time right before the Sunshot campaign)

Are there secret parts of the Lan rules?  

No. The Lan rules are public. The book is very clear on this. All Lan rules are carved into a massive stone placed at the foot of the mountain where Cloud Recess is, where anyone passing through or coming into House Lan can see it. 

This rule stone was first mentioned when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian met for the first time. Wei Ying complained that he didn’t know the rules and why are there so many things forbidden in the Lan rules? Lan Wangji replied with, rules are written on the stone. Go read it yourself. 

The second time it was mentioned in the book, was Lan Qiren’s first class. The first thing he did was complained that even with the stone and rules being in open space, nobody bothered to read. So he will read the rules now. 

The book mentioned at least two different sets of Lan rules that both need to be obeyed: 礼则篇 Lize Pian (Book of Rites) 上义篇 Shang Yi Pian (Book of Justice). Whether the rules are separated further into more sets or not is unknown. 

Why are some Lan rules better known than others? 

Because Lan rules are based on 克己復禮 Keji Fuli, a real-life Confucius asceticism that calls for the restraint/purge of one’s ego and to return to the core rites. This is also newly confirmed in MXTX’s new interview, though it has been more or less heavily suggested in the book itself, with House Lan being known as the House of Gentlemen. 

Gentlemen here is not the Western ideal of Gentlemen, but rather a Confucius ideal and set of values. Confucius is the person who created this ideal in the first place. 

So it’s not that some rules are better known, but rather the entire image of Lan House is a huge pointer as to how they live their life: with great restraint. 

#mxtx #mdzs #Wei Ying #Wei Wuxian #Lan House #Lan Wangji #mo dao zu shi

[im-sew-curious]

There’s something wrong with me. I was so excited to see this photo. Yeah, of course, for the obvious reasons. But also because it confirmed and showcased an alteration that has been done to Taemin’s clothes so he’s less likely to split his trousers.

Taemin in his pleather pants at his Metamorph concert, 2023.

He’s got crotch gussets. Such a sexy term, I know. Basically, it’s a long triangular piece of fabric that’s stitched from the crotch down into the trouser legs. This provides some extra depth to allow for a fuller range of movement during squats, lunges, etc.

The gusset is that piece of pleather, pieced inside those red lines.

Sometimes it’s made of matching stretch fabric, and sometimes it’s the same fabric as the trousers. The width and length of the triangle can vary based on the amount of extra ease required for the specific movements. In this specific pair, the gusset is truncated at the zippered knee so there’s no point.

Jinki during the Your Number Performance Video (Black Version) showcasing a beautiful example of a gusset

During a fitting, it’s important to have the performer do all of their most extreme moves to make sure things don’t bunch or bind. Since we don’t normally get…excellent crotch shots…of Taemin, like that one, I can’t tell how common it is for him to get these gussets.

If it’s a shopped garment and not custom built (I’m assuming the Metamorph pair is custom) and they have the money, it’s possible they could purchase two pairs. They could then cannibalize one pair simply to make perfectly matching gussets.

If the trouser hem is taken up quite a bit, it may also be possible to use that fabric to make some.

It's also notable that the seams in these trousers are “flat felled.” That’s the type you typically see on jeans. It’s topstitched twice so it’s a very strong seam, which also helps to prevent split crotches.

You can see the beautifully done flat felled seams at this intersection of center front seam, front and back leg, and gussets. It's so pleasing to me!

Here's what a flat felled seam looks like. Hefty jeans seam. Big, beefy jeans seam.

Perhaps his most famous “blowout” was during the 2012 performance of Sherlock at the KBS year end music show. But he’s pretty famous for them in general.

That's just impressive

I’m not quite sure when Taemin’s styling team started incorporating crotch gussets into his costumes…my research is pretty spotty.

There is one instance during his Danger era in 2014 where he had a sort of gusset installed, however, it lacked a center front seam. This, along with the fact that his trousers were riding low, didn’t provide the correct…body geometry, to broadly explain it, to really help. It was also very wide and not tapered, which widened his whole trouser leg. It was also not stitched securely enough to keep from popping open at the center front. But this is the first attempt I've seen trying to accommodate his issues.

You can see how it lacks the refinement and finesse of the future "generations" of gussets.

There were at least two instances of Taemin splitting his trousers in 2016 at a DxDxD concert and a Drip Drop live performance. His striped DxDxD suit definitely did not have gusset, and I’m unsure about the latter. I think it’s interesting that they tried a gusset on him two years prior, then didn’t again. Except….

Taemin's gusset-less suit which he wore during Shinee's DxDxD concert in 2016, which split during the show.

All of SHINee had crotch gussets in their Your Number suits in 2016. I wrote a whole thread about that here.

So basically, I’m confused. It seems like the usage of gussets in Taemin’s trousers was very sporadic.

I haven’t seen more recent examples of either gussets or split trousers, other than the Metamorph trousers. But I haven't been able to get good views of most of the things he's worn over the last 7 years. This could mean that his team has begun to incorporate gussets into more of them, or we just don’t know about the blow-outs. Or I haven't done enough research. I got a good view of the inner legs of his blue satin suit in the Idea MV and I didn’t see anything. Same with his black Criminal trousers.

Nope?

Wearing trousers high on one’s waist and very close to their body helps a great deal. You can see that in the blue satin Idea trousers. That way, the loose fabric doesn’t stretch more than it should as the legs splay apart and cause ripping. The styling team may have made sure to do that more. It’s possible that they could have also made sure to incorporate more stretch into the trousers they buy (or possibly, occasionally, make) for him.

Taemin's Kcon look. You can see how the trousers go nearly all the way up to his "natural waist" (which is where you crease when you bend to your side.) That helps keep them up to where they need to be, preventing a saggy crotch, which, in turn, prevents rips.

Working with performers for many years, one gets to know the idiosyncrasies and patterns of the way they move in their clothing. I worked with one performer in musical theatre who was infamous for splitting his trousers. We searched for matching fabric before we even tried on his trousers for the first time, knowing he would be getting gussets.

All this is to say, I applaud the stylist team for making these accommodations for Taemin. He, more than anyone, needs these alterations to give him peace of mind to perform "full out" and stay rip free!

Here’s a bonus 9 minute compilation of Taemin ripping his trousers. Serial Pants Ripper Taemin. (Cw: The last bit is uncomfortable, featuring some prompting from hosts for Minho to touch Taemin’s butt to see if it was pointy, which was preferable to the host doing so.)

#shinee #taemin #lee taemin #costumes #kpop #k pop #gussets #sewing #costume design #costume construction #shinee taemin

[mistydeyes]

oh my gosh congrats!!! 1k is absolutely insane and you deserve it!! for the prompts maybe gold and/or uniforms with Price? I have become an excessive price girlie since I followed you and I'm so here for it (and also for how well your write all the boys tbh) congrats again <333

@hxad-ovxr-hxart with the most heartwarming compliments as always! thank you so much for all your support and i'm glad that you've come to the dark side of being a price girl HAHA we love our favorite commanding officer (like look at how he SMILES)

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompts: gold - a small gifted ring as a token of your love and uniforms - they sure clean up well as you look at them in their dress uniform

pairing: John Price x fem!reader

warning: swearing!

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gold

"John, love, you don't always have to give me a gift before you leave," you chuckled as he excitedly entered your home with a small bag. Whether it was houseplants, a boxed set of a new television series, or expensive scotch (one that he made you promise not to drink in his absence), he always gave you a small token of his love. It was a sentimental gesture as it was his way of promising to return home to you. "I think you'll like this one," he said and kissed you gently before joining you on the couch.

He rested an arm around your shoulder as you unwrapped the delicate packaging. You neatly folded the pastel tissue paper and unveiled two velvet boxes. "Now what do we have here," you alluded as John watched you intently. You opened the first box to reveal a gorgeous gold band engraved with an intricate floral design and delicate diamonds. You twisted it in your fingers as you admired the twinkle the ring showed in the warm living room light. "Look on the inside," he whispered as he joined your admiration. You turned the ring and saw he had engraved the ring with, "to come home." You were confused at first at the truncated phrase until John encouraged you to open the other box. You opened it to reveal a simplistic gold band, one more fit for his fingers than yours. To his instruction, you turned the ring and gently read the words out loud. "A promise," you began to say as you looked at him. "To come home," he finished and you were at a loss for words.

You kissed him softly in response and as a token of your appreciation. You placed the ring on your finger and admired it as you fell into his arms. "This is beautiful, John," you said softly, "thank you." He wrapped his strong arms around you and placed his hands on top of yours. As you both looked at the shining bands, you were beaming with love and happiness. "Thought it was time I got you a promise ring," he said and kissed your forehead gently. You wish the moment never ended as you sat peacefully, knowing he would be gone the next day. However, one thought was still on your mind. "At first I thought it was an engagement ring," you thought allowed and you could hear the hearty baritones of John's laugh. "Sweetheart, I'll give you the entire universe for our proposal," he began to say as you looked up at him, "and I'll be damned if I let you unwrap it yourself." You smiled at the words, "our proposal", as you fell more in love. "I'll be sure to hold you to that promise."

uniforms

To date, graduation from the Army Foundation College was one of your favorite events. You loved seeing the smiling faces of family members as they saw the newest members of the British Army. It always reminded you of the moment when you saw your proud parents excitedly wave to you amongst the crowd. However, the constant missions of the 141, meant you were not always privy to attend but miraculously the team had made it home in one piece and you were preparing for the day.

Ghost had graciously allowed everyone to stay at his home and you were trying your best to be a respectful guest. However, not everyone was on the same page as it had been quite some time since you dressed in your service attire. First, you were awoken by a half-dressed Soap complaining his pants no longer fit. "Fucking hell, just squeeze into them," you yelled as you groggily got up. "Curse these thighs," he replied and exited the room. Next was Gaz who always seemed to forget the order of his badges and various medals. You helped to adjust his regalia as you could hear Ghost and Price begin to wake and start their routine. "Where's your silver one, Garrick?" you asked as you noticed it missing. "I don't have one," he replied confidently and you rolled your eyes. "Yes you do, it's the Special Air Service one," you corrected and soon the room was thrown into chaos as he searched for it.

After the two Sergeants were finally dressed, you had the time to put on your skirt and adjust your tie. You gently left your khaki jacket hanging as you went to check on your superiors. You knocked on Price's door as it was the first one at the end of the hallway. "Captain, are you ready?" you asked and he called for you to enter. Despite having the same generic uniform as everyone in the house, you couldn't deny he looked undeniably handsome in the attire. The only exception was the belts. You, him, and Ghost had the signature brown belt and sash that set you apart from the other ranks. From his back facing you, you could see it still fit him well and his face in the mirror showed he had given his facial hair a much-needed shave and comb. He turned to you with a lopsided tie and a dashing smile. "Let me fix that for you," you said kindly and enclosed the space as your delicate fingers adjusted the tie to a presentable position. You couldn't help but notice the expensive cologne he had put on as well as his quickened breaths at your sudden touch. "It's been a while," he joked and you joined in the laughter. "I played mother this morning to the Sergeants," you said while rolling your eyes. "Those muppets," he replied and went to pick up his beret. He held it in his hands as he allowed you to exit down the stairs.

Upon your entrance, you couldn't help but smile at the three prim and proper men in front of you. "Would have never pictured this when were face down in the mud," you remarked and went to put on your jacket. They all laughed and returned with banter as you buttoned your coat and buckled the brown belt along with the sash. You were adjusting the beret on your head when Price walked over to you. "Missed a button, Lieutenant," he remarked and you could feel your breath hitch as he looped the button together and smoothed out your jacket. "Thanks, Captain," you said, hopefully not exposing your small crush on your superior. "Alright, who's driving?" Soap called out and you laughed before following Price and Ghost. "Thanks, Captain," Gaz teasingly said as he walked behind you. "Didn't know blush was part of the uniform," Soap joined in and as you groaned, you hoped that Price was ignorant to their blatant teasing.

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #price imagine #mw2 #izzie is writing #izzie celebrates 1k

[flanaganfilm]

Hi there! I recall hearing at some point that in Midnight Mass, there was a deleted scene where Erin speaks in the confession booth about knowing Bev killed Pike, but doing nothing about it (or something to that effect? Apologies if I'm misremembering). I thought that was an interesting bit of characterization, could you elaborate on what that scene was like and why it was ultimately cut?

Yes, that's correct! It was a great scene, too. Very well acted by Kate and Hamish. The general gist of it was that Erin confesses to Father Paul that she was pretty sure Beverly Keane was the one who poisoned the dog, but that she knew she wouldn't do anything about it, given her standing in the community and her feeling that nothing would happen to Bev. And she knew that Father Paul was obliged to keep it secret because of the nature of the sacrament of confession - he couldn't tell anyone. She also talked about how her mother, who was abusive, was celebrated by the community even when they knew what she did, and how that made her feel like she would always be viewed as the problem child. No one would listen to her, she figured.

It was meant to show Erin being too afraid to do something in this case, even though she knew it was the right thing to do, and then we'd see her make a different decision at the end of the series when the stakes were at their highest. It was also meant to help demonstrate one of our central themes about the spread of fanaticism - that early in that process, good people often see what's happening and choose to believe it'll get better on its own, or that it isn't their place to intercede. And finally, it was interesting to me because it gave Father Paul an early glimpse into what Bev was capable of. He tries to persuade Erin that she might be wrong, that maybe there was another explanation - something else I quite liked thematically. He tries to rationalize it and reframe it right away, which is an important character trait of Father Paul's when we later learn how he responded to the Angel. I really loved this scene. It was cut because Netflix wanted the episode to be shorter, and had targeted that scene specifically as one that they felt "dragged". They also were confused as to why there wasn't a consequence to Bev, "why doesn't Father Paul do anything with this information" and weren't moved by my argument that 1) that isn't how confession works, and 2) his denial of what he learns is an important character trait. First we tried a shorter version of it, but it was one of those situations (frequent on that show) where a truncated version made the scene less impactful - shorter wasn't better. Ultimately they pushed for its removal and we conceded, opting to save our powder for a different creative battle. I regret cutting it. The show was better with the scene intact.

[lurkingshan]

Breaking Down the I Feel You Linger in the Air Finale

Okay pals, I got some sleep and I'm ready to dig into this finale and all its beautiful messiness. I love this show and I'm frankly a little frustrated that we got such an incomplete resolution to the (hopefully) first season when there was ample time to do it right. As ever, pacing and time and information management continue to be major weaknesses for Tee Bundit. As I said last week, the writing for this show has been undeniably messy but it's still holding together on the strength of the production and the performances and the success of some of its big themes and character arcs; that take held firm through the finale and some of the baffling choices made about where to spend our time in this final installment. So, let's dig into it!

The Long Goodbye

I'll say upfront that this is my biggest beef with the pacing of the finale. We spent all of last week on a long and painful goodbye for Yai and Jom, perfectly executed, but for some reason we did another 45 minutes of it this week, not so perfectly executed. While I loved the covering of the mirrors, the saddest sex scene ever (complete with sex moans running as the audio over a memory montage how dare you show!), and the pain of Yai realizing he drew the final picture and watching Jom disappear, we didn't need to retread them saying goodbye to each other over and over again for two entire hours of story time, and we didn't need a long, sappy, on the nose speech from Jom saying things we already knew. As I told @neuroticbookworm, this might be my aro showing but I found the series of repetitive emotional goodbye conversations and memory montages exhausting and not in a good way. If I were the script doctor, I would have kept the mirrors, sad sex, and Yai drawing as the start of the episode and cut the rest, moving much more quickly into the next phase of the story.

Back to the Future

Jom returning to his present day life, trying to cope with his anguish and loneliness and adjust back into things, and further investigating the time travel mystery to figure out a way to reconnect with Yai should have been the main narrative of this episode. Instead, we got a truncated version of it that didn't have time to breath because we'd used up so much time on the above mentioned retread. For my money, Jom's devastation upon finding Yai's letter to him was the most emotionally resonant moment of the finale and the first part of the episode where I almost cried. But we had barely sunk into that feeling before it was abruptly cut short because we were out of time and Tee needed to wrap this baby up.

Eyebrow Scar Yai

Here’s where I get actually kind of peeved, because this final (pre-credits) scene was so poorly set up and executed that to even call it a resolution is a stretch. A modern version of Yai walks into the room, asks Jom why he's crying, tells him he's been waiting for him, kisses him, and then the credits roll!

Now I've been in the tags so I know this caused confusion for anyone who has not read the novel (me too, fam!). And that's because the show had not bothered to establish:

That Yai does in fact have a modern doppelgänger

Who the heck that doppelgänger is and how he’s connected to 1928 Yai

How that doppelgänger would be able to remember Jom when no other doppelgängers in the story can remember their past lives

Based on what we know, could we piece together a reasonable theory about who this man is, how he got there, and the final pieces of the mythology that make sense of it? Sure. In fact, bookworm and I pretty much guessed exactly what the explanation for this was after watching the show, and many of the elements at play here were theorized in conversations we had last week. Book readers like @tipsyjaehyun have now confirmed the full explanation for anyone who cares to go read it.

But the show did not tell us any of this information. If you have to read the novel or have novel readers spoil you on aspects of the story that the show didn't bother to cover in order to understand the ending of the story, the execution has failed. And given the pacing notes above, there is really no reason we couldn't have gotten a better set up for this ending with Eyebrow Scar Yai (yes I know his name but no I'm not using it because the show didn't bother telling me; I am petty like that). Jom could have found this descendant during his time of processing and the ending could have hinged on us realizing this modern Yai is a reincarnation who has his past life memories intact; had we gone into a final kiss between them feeling grounded in all of that knowledge, it would have landed so much better.

Hello Commander

And now on to the post-credits scene, where Tee puts a plea into the universe to give him a second season so he can play around in another time period and explore what is evidently the origin of this soul tie between Jom and Yai. I chose to read this episode tag as separate from the actual season 1 narrative, and I think that was the intention given its placement. If they secure funding for a second season, this tag scene becomes the beginning of that next story, with Eyebrow Scar Yai's kiss sending Jom into another time travel adventure. If they don't we can just ignore it and pretend the pre-credits scene was the end (which is why I'm not happy it was so poorly done). I, for one, would love to see a second season to explore another time period and give Tee a chance to clean up some of this mess he has made of the mythology and season 1 resolution. Shouts to @clairedaring for reporting back from the live showing of the finale on what the possibilities are looking like there. Fingers crossed we get a continuation of this story some day!

Tagging in @waitmyturtles and @twig-tea who also have linked posts above. And shouts to @blmpff @cankersoregirl @pharawee @wanderlust-in-my-soul @italianpersonwithashippersheart @bengiyo @dragonsareawesome123 @wen-kexing-apologist @junghaesin @stuffnonsenseandotherthings @slayerkitty @respectthepetty @chickenstrangers @sunshinechay @btwinlines for posting about this show every week and making it such a fun watch despite having a small audience on here. It was a pleasure watching this with you all!

#i feel you linger in the air #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

[bonefall]

I think Nightcloud's Thaw (assuming you keep that title) is a great idea not only because your Nightcloud is so interesting and because she as a character deserves more spotlight, but also because it would be interesting to see Crowfeather begin to change from her perspective. After all, you said it was a surprise he offered to help save Breezepelt at all- and what better way to show that than for us to not be inside his head when he makes the decision to offer to help?

I'm feeling more and more confident about it. I think BB!Nightcloud is absolutely the best choice of a character to observe the events of "Crowfeather's Trial," now Nightcloud's Thaw.

Nightcloud's Thaw is an okay title for now, but I want to bat around some more names.

It's meant to invoke the way her life begins to turn around, after Crowfeather's exile; beginning with that reveal, how Crowfeather's behavior reaches a breaking point in the Clan, her reputation turn-around, and finally accepting Crowfeather's help in aiding Breezepelt.

So "thaw" is one way to put it... but if I could capture something more related to the change of seasons or time, that would be good too. Nightcloud's Daybreak, Nightcloud's Horizon.

We can go through Nightcloud's process of unlearning with her.

The dread and fury at the reveal, the shock when Crowfeather actually sees a consequence, and the way that suddenly the Clan is sympathetic towards her in a way they'd never been

How this newfound empathy feels somewhat insulting to her, but, how it helps her start to realize that she DOESN'T deserve how Crow treats her.

Makes it easy to truncate most of OotS, can quickly be described as "they stayed together slightly longer, but if it wasn't dead, their relationship was quickly dying."

And really get to the meat of the story with how Crowfeather deflecting the blame of their son's Dark Forest training on her was the LAST straw. For everyone. Including Crowfeather himself.

(I think I'll actually change around the fight in the BOTTE to be Breeze attacking CROW, and Lionblaze STOPS him. Because killing his pathetic dad, in the end, wouldn't fix anything and would ruin his life forever. Really change it to stress that no one likes Crowfeather because of how he keeps treating people. If Crow wants to turn that around, he has to CHANGE.)

(Plus, something just feels nice about letting the two have a bond. Something about how they were both pulled out of the dirt at the Kitty Olympics and washed clean by Nightcloud, starting this deep, brotherly bond somehow. I'll have to revisit this.)

Nightcloud alone can link the way that Crowfeather is trying to change himself, AND the way Breezepelt is getting worse, in the way I want

She's cautious of Crowfeather, for good, obvious reasons. He hurt her, and has only ever used her good faith as leverage against her.

And she's charitable to Breezepelt, because she knows exactly what pain is behind his rash, emotional behaviors.

SO I can frame them both in the way I want through her eyes.

Plus, I need a place to put her childhood. If it's not here, I wouldn't have a good spot to put it.

I could link all the flashback segments with having Addersong pass away, since he would be VERY old at this point. It could be very bittersweet for her

She spent so much time away from her beloved mentor, who taught her so much.

She could have had so many wonderful years with him, his advice, and his songs. But now he's an elder in his last moons

All because she let her heart be hardened after the death of her family. Pain lead her astray so many times...

I'll probably rework a LOT of the stoat stuff. I know right away there's a lot of actions in CT I want to rip away from Crowfeather and hand over to Breezepelt; a lot of the loud, openly argumentative moments he has with Onestar for example. SHOW the way that Breezepelt interprets Harespring/Darkseeker's diplomatic responses as "sniveling and traitorous" to him.

Have Nightcloud be trying to bridge this gap between Breezepelt and his Clanmates with her new reputation, and it just not working.

Maybe shuffle Nightcloud's disappearance near the end of the book, around the time that the Kin appears. Show that his mother being suspected dead was a BIG reason Breezepelt made such an emotional choice to join the Kin, and bring his other allies with him.

#Nightcloud's Thaw #Better bones au #In the Tunnel Rescue of BB!AVOS I have a CLEAR scene in my head where they're all escaping #And Breeze is harangued by a 'bully' character who antagonizes him all series long in the Kin #And just as he's forced onto his back in the leaf litter in a brawl #Nightcloud SURGES out of the tunnel-- the first of Harespring's team-- and CLOCKSS that bully #TAKEN OUT BY THE WORD GO #ANNOUNCER CHEERS #ITS NIGHTCLOUD WITH THE STEEL FIST #She can be the only cat on the screen EVER who punches another cat and knocks them CLEAN outcold LMAOO #And then the others stream out and reveal the Rescue Team which was Heather and Hare's plan all along #But Nightcloud gets to be the first one out #Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train #And sometimes it's Nightcloud #Same thing.

[phynali]

Tumblr tip sheet for twitter refugees

i’ve seen a lot of different advice posts but none that had what i consider all the key advice in one spot, so here we are. long post ahead.

-

1. your dash can be put into reverse chronological order and it is a BETTER experience if you do that

Go to your settings -> Dashboard -> Preference

Turn “Best Stuff First” OFF

2. you can (and likely should!) turn off algorithmic content

Under the same menu. Settings -> Dashboard -> Preferences

There are two algorithms on tumblr.

One is “In your orbit” and I fucking hate it. i want to see the content that I like, not that some random person i follow likes. if i wanted to see that content on my dash, i’d follow the people who put it there.

The other is “based on your likes” and it is hilariously bad because if you like a post for something you don’t normally like or follow (e.g., when I watched a new movie and liked one post about it), you’ll suddenly get a dozen posts about that thing and only that thing.

I keep it on because it’s hilariously bad, but i honestly recommend turning it off. it routinely recommends shit to me that i hate and i have to keep telling it that i am “not interested in this post” for things tagged with my nOTP, but until / unless i filter that ship tag out entirely, i will keep being serviced those

3. filtering / blacklisting is your friend

this is true on every platform, not just tumblr. i’m sure veteran twitter users are well-versed in it, but just as a reminder. you will be expected to filter your own content/dash here on tumblr, and if you complain about seeing something that was properly tagged, you will be rightly mocked as a clown.

Settings -> Account -> Content You See

you can filter both tags and post content. There’s a completely innocuous post i absolutely hate that does rounds and is never tagged, and i almost unfollowed a mutual for how much i hate that post and them reblogging it so much. but i typed a specific sentence from that post into the “filtered post content” options and BOOM - haven’t seen it since. glorious.

4. content controls are your friend

under the same “Content You See” menu. You are automatically opted OUT of seeing this stuff, so you MUST opt in to see mature content.

you’ll want to determine your own preferences, but i prefer to see all of the mature content types that may be hit with a community label.

5. long posts are (probably) your friend

tumblr cuts posts over a few lines if you have this turned off, and it’s really annoying and really truncates your experience of the website. THIS is itself a long post!

part of the quintessential tumblr experience is being annoyed by the “do you love the color of the sky” post.

seriously, this isn’t twitter. we aren’t here for 280 character bite-sized posts. i 10/10 recommend keeping long posts on.

Settings -> Dashboard -> Interface

6. blog-specific settings

there is also a menu for additional settings (including updating the appearance etc) for each blog you have (your main, and any sideblogs).

this is near the end of your options under Settings -> Blog Settings (click the individual blog to update)

under your blog settings you can...

- enable your custom theme (which you should! this is turned off for new users but personalizing your page is part of the experience)

- decide if you want people to know what posts you’re liking and who you’re following. i do NOT, so these are off. internet privacy is allowed on tumblr, and don’t let anyone bully you into thinking you need to make everything public for their supervision. consume all the problematic content your little gremlin content desires and tell people to fuck off if they take issue with that.

- determine if and how others can interact with your blog!! there some settings about asks, messaging, tipping (if you’re here to make $$), whether people can even SEE your blog, if it’s searchable, etc. tumblr gives power and control back to the users! use that power!

here, you can specifically set your “Ask” preferences to on or off, and to accept or NOT accept asks from anonymous users / logged out users.

if you’re here to interact with friends or just vibe, or don’t reblog a lot of asks games or encourage anon inbox messages, and/or especially if you’re getting harasment and don’t want to deal with shitty users, it is okay to turn off anons, and i ENCOURAGE you to do so.

i keep it on for my fandom sideblogs and off for my main and this makes me happy. do what makes you happy.

7. etiquette and interface

- change your icon so no one thinks you’re a bot

- reblog posts so your account isn’t empty. also, with  algorithmic content turned off by most users, YOU are the algorithm, and interaction on this website is strongly encouraged. making or reblogging posts part of the experience and sort of the whole point

- reblog tagging: individual preferences apply. instead of adding a comment on a reblog, users will often add their thoughts in a tag, if they aren’t specifically looking to engage in a dialogue or add on to the post itself. other users can then decide to copy their tags (often with “prev” for “previous” appended) or even copy/paste them into a comment on their reblog, which is your tags “passing peer review”. people also tag to index posts so their blog is more searchable, and to include trigger warnings and content warnings related to a post. you can also choose to not tag anything. it’s your blog, do what you want.

- tags are how people find new content. if you make a new post and want people to find it, they will be searching the tag related to that content, so tag it accordingly. people can also follow tags and get notifications when new posts are made into that tag.

- do not censor words! this isn’t tiktok or twitter. we say ‘fuck’ and ‘kill’ here. if you write “unalive” or censor swears or triggers, people’s content filters do not work, and you will have undermined their ability to curate their content, moderate their experience, and avoid triggers. don’t do that. just spell out the whole goddamn word, please.

- you can make sideblogs under a single account! this means you have your main, which you interact (like, reply, and follow) from, but which can be used to have a space for all your posts and reblogs on a given topic (fandom, hobby, fixation, whatever). you can also direct message to/from a sideblog and accept asks etc.

- if you use tumblr in your browser, there is an add-on called XKIT. this used to be a tumblr user staple and allowed for a lot of functionality that tumblr didn’t used to have. tumblr has since very much upped their game, but it can still be worth using XKIT if you’re regularly in a browser and not on the app. for example, it includes some ad-blocking capabilities. I use “New Xkit” and have a few personalized settings with it.

- posts go around forever on this site and new memes crop up every day, retreat, and then resurge out of the blue randomly. this makes for tumblr-wide in-jokes that circulate for years, like “do you love the color of the sky” and the “color theory children’s hospital” post. if you don’t get these, you can ask and i’m sure tumblr will deliver, but you can also wait around and follow more people and these will turn up eventually.

- your dash is what you make it. your interaction is what you make it. you have control, you are not at the mercy of algorithms and advertisers if you don’t want to be. paying for ad-free browsing is an option. they even give you the option to toggled your ad settings within ad-free browsing. seriously - you. have. the. control.

this is something that we love about tumblr and one of the things that makes it our hellsite (affectionate) instead of our hellsite (derogatory). if you’re finding your experience to be negative but still want to stick around, i encourage you to block accounts or content that makes you unhappy or anxious, to follow the accounts that bring you joy, and to adjust your settings into whatever makes you happiest and least stressed out.

#tumblr #twitter #twitter refugees #tumblr tips #fellow tumblr veterans what did i miss? #long post #long post for ts #ts was tumblr savior aka an extension from about a decade ago that people used for content filtering #i think before xkit existed? #and some of us still use the 'for ts' tags because people use to blacklist/filter content based on that wording #i guess it's not really needed for long posts anymore since people can turn those off in their dash preferences now #but old habits die hard #anyway this barely touches on the unique tumblr culture but i hope that culture sticks around despite an influx of new users

[matt0044]

FullMetal Alchemist 2003 is a bad adaptation…

…but a darn good Anime taken on its own terms. However, talking about how it’s “better” or “worse” than Brotherhood (y’all know who you are) is pointless when… neither was intended to be like or outdo the other.

Say the Manga is… ingredients for a meal, said meal being Brotherhood or 03.

03 utilizes some plot beats and storylines from the Manga but modifies upon them in order to create set up for the largely original plot that’s of its own making.

It knows what to keep, what to tweak and what to excise from something that will inevitably be different in tone as well as character evolution.

By contrast, Brotherhood intends to be more true to the Manga but not all of it. Various plot beats are retooled like the investigation of Liore are made the second adventure we see of the Elrics.

Some like the Youswell Mine and Yoki are skipped over with a passing mention before later being adapted later in a truncated adaptation.

Some are outright changed such as the Elrics and Winry learning of Hughes dying before Maria Ross’s accusation of such hits the papers. That is, with a later scene of them meeting Grace and Elicia over the matter.

This list goes on…

Though some find they haven’t found their sea legs at first, this adaptation shakes out to be one of the 2010s big gateway Anime titles. Either way, it’s a technically better adaptation of the original Manga by default.

03 didn’t adapt the Manga but with filler ala the Big Three of Shonen Jump. Rather it built a new story around the parts of the Manga it had to work with a went off. Probably one of the few Anime Original Endings that have stood the test of time really.

Now HOW those elements were handled for each version 03 had focused on can make for a good discussion at the very least. But neither version of FMA should be judged by what it isn’t and never was going to be.

It just… makes it hard to humor a comparison when one is clearly preferred over the other. Especially when some mostly amount to petty memes and potshots.

I know this saying is rightfully maligned but for this context? I don’t care who started it, somebody has to end it.

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma #fma brotherhood #fma 03 #fma 2003 #FullMetal alchemist 03 #fullmetal alchemist 2003 #FMA 2009 #hot take #slight #salt #largely #fandom salt #adaptation #lost in adaptation

[adamworu]

Hi, what do you think of the Anime!Kaworu (not manga or Rebuild) analysis called 'Kaworu Nagisa, Ángel del amor y el libre albedrío. Diseccionando a los Ángeles (última parte)' by MistralChronicles?, has English subtitles.

I finally gave it a look after being inundated with life stuff (forgive me for taking long on this) and wow! If you're a Kaworu fan looking for some really indepth analysis your cup will truly runneth over on this one.

Let me start by saying that this lengthy analysis works because it doesn't go deep into his characterization under the assumption that the viewer already knows. It's all conveniently wrapped in one video. For those that already do know, this video acts as an excellent refresher, given how expansive Evangelion's lore is.

(warning for abuse mention)

The first thing that stands out to me in this 2 hour analysis, aside from thoroughly research on Eva's production history is the noted rearranging of Kaworu's surname as Shisha. Shisha means messenger (You'll notice the term Saigo Shisha to refer to the angels in Eva) while also pertaining to death.

This also works well with MOVIC's assigning of Kaworu to the Death Tarot Card.

One door closes and another opens. Kaworu dies and he understands that he is the Last Messenger. In so doing, he ensures humanity's welfare in the process.

I love loved that MC (I'll be abbreviated Mistral Chronicles as MC in this analysis) talked of Draftworu and the scars. I wouldn't call those suicide attempts but I would call those self-harm. That's not to say that Draft iteration Kaworu didn't hold ideas relating to suicide.

MC notes that Kaworu and Shinji's excellent chemistry. Kaworu is more bright and outgoing whereas Shinji is more neutral. This manifests in their shirts: orange and blue, respectively, because they compliment each other.

I think my one pet peeve (even less, actually, just something pointed out) through this analysis however is that Kaworu is directly called Adam. Kaworu's existence as Adam is by proxy. Meaning that because Adam's soul is within him, he's Adam that way rather than being some physical iteration.

Kaworu was meant to be so good that his nature alone would be enough to give Shinji an inferiority complex. MC makes the excellent point that because Kaworu's appearance had to be truncated to one episode, we only ever see not the complex, but rather Shinji's idealization of Kaworu.

I think about this fact a lot. How, even though Kaworu accepts Shinji for who he is, there's a pushback in parts of Eva communities that assumes bad faith on Kaworu's end. It drives me up a wall every so often due to exactly where the bad faith comes from. There's also a part of me that understands that total acceptance and unconditional love aren't impossible manifestations. Out there, there is someone who appreciates and is so in love with you in all ways. We're so used to being around people trying to change key aspects of us rather than trying to comprehend us at our very cores. It makes the words 'I love you' feel all the more surreal. Genuine, unrelenting love for who you are feels like a shock to the system.

(Also small sidebar before we move on: MC goes into how Kaworu can fenagle with Unit-02 despite the non-reconfigured soul. When she says 'he can control a body that is his own' she's referring to the fact that Kaworu, being an angel, is comprised of particle wave matter)

Kaworu has Shinji's support. Anywhere can be paradise. Shinji is his home.

MC points out something that often goes missed by some groups: Kaworu's existence is ultimately integral to Evangelion. Not just to Shinji. Kaworu's status as the Angel of Free Will is an ironic one of sorts. Other angels which preceded him desired to understand more of their lilin 'neighbors', so why then, is Kaworu aligned with such a moniker?

Kaworu's kindness, or his sacrifice to humanity, allowed them that free will. Another reading that I have alongside the aforementioned is that Kaworu's action shows the unsettlingly paradoxical nature of free will; that your freedom exists because someone allowed it for you.

The video also goes on to point out that Kaworu doesn't overstep boundaries (i.e. the bath scene). He thinks that Shinji wants to go with him out of the bath. He doesn't really pry. He's not fully attuned to Shinji's culture to understand why there'd be aversion with acts of sudden closeness. That's not to say that Shinji was grossed out by Kaworu (which he wasn't), but that Shinji's aversion comes from a place of fear from being hurt again.

Now onto Netflix's translation.

MC transitions into the Netflix translation and how it danced around 'It means I love you.' Debates about translation are sometimes had pertaining to this scene. You'll often see people argue about how in the Japanese version 'koui/koi' is purely platonic in nature. Given the actual context with the scene as well as the symbolisms that carry later in in End of Evangelion, this is of course far from the truth. The word is a pun which is doesn't carry well outside the language. The words 'koi' and 'suki' are indeed romantic, and EOE doesn't stand as the only example. The drafts debunk any perception of Kaworu and Shinji's relationship being that of 'just friends.' MC also adds more: that Anno gave the drafts to someone who was versed in writing boys love.

The erasure in the translations was justified via 'Evangelion is an ambiguous work.' Correction: Evangelion's moral to the viewer is ambiguous. The characters have been talked about in supplementary material. That isn't ambiguous.

This snippet here also debunks the platonic angle. When the characters are shown top-down in bed in certain parts of the series, there's some adversity or lack of communication. Shinji thinks of Asuka as only a child (something about glass houses and throwing stones). Asuka did share the sheets with Hikari, though faced away because she felt too vulnerable. But Shinji and Kaworu? They're clicking so much that Shinji divulges to Kaworu about his life prior to the events of Eva. Kaworu offers to sleep on the floor rather than Shinji but Shinji prefers the floor. Shinji catches himself being vulnerable but never backpedals or fronts about his life. At that moment, he was vulnerable with the right person.

Kaworu's such a surreal character in the world of Evangelion because he doesn't really ask anything. He's kind, but far from perfect. But he feels almost immaculate because Evangelion's world comes across to many viewers as cynical. People are often cold and get away with proverbial murder. None of us can understand each other fully because our boundaries not only protect us, but impede us. Fear drives us to be alive but also stunt current relationships while condemning future ones.

The lake scene is brought up in the video analysis in that it makes little to no sense. It's just...weird to think about.

Kaworu's donor is brought up here, though I wouldn't go so far as to say that they 'gave a body.' During the Director's Cut of episode 21, it's stated that Kaworu's conception came about as a Contact Experiment. DNA 'dove' into the flesh of Adam, awakening them. It could have been anything.

Since we're talking of enigmatic lore of Eva, 'clone' is a sort of loose term here. Both of the 'cloned' individuals may have the slight features of their donors, but not by much. Their complexions are pale, nearly calling to mind someone with albinism. Why is it that both of these experiments end in these features?

Love that MC points this out.

Shinji's on the warpath with angels not because of his contempt, but he seeks validation. Then Kaworu comes along, gives him that validation without condition. There's no ulterior motive for his kindness. He loves Shinji for all his flaws.

Shinji's ire for Kaworu's reveal is a front. He's not angry at Kaworu for his status. His forced to fight between two sources of validation, those around him most or Kaworu. Shinji doesn't want to be forced with the troubling revelation that his fight against the angels isn't genuine. This is further reinforced in episode 25 in which he doubles down.

Kaworu explains the AT field, how integral it is to understanding others (and outside to the viewer, important to the plot). The deployment of boundaries can protect you but in the same vein hurt others. MC points out that Unit-02 stabbing 01 is metaphorical, and a clever subtlety at that. The progression knife is inserted in the left side of the Evangelion, where the heart is.

He utters 'Human hope is made from sorrow.' From despair, joy arises. Kaworu realizes that his merging with Adam (biological desire, not moral) would spell annihilation for the whole of mankind and its hopes. As the last of his kind, the onus lies on him to cause a freedom of one species to inherit Earth while the other perishes.

It's also why Ode to Joy is synonymous with Kaworu.

It is why he is the Angel of Free Will.

Take the AT Field's usage into consideration. It can be used to protect, hurt, overstep, or even temporarily shut oneself off from the pains of the world. These are used to navigate the circumstances around you, and this truth implicates the angels, given they're as complex as humanity.

Thus, the larger deployment of Kaworu's AT Field is made clear. Blood stains his hands, regardless of outcome.

On this end, humans do have AT Fields but lack the physiology to deploy them physically. The Fields are instead metaphorical. They exist as veneers of a person, avoidance of an issue, among other things.

Kaworu's designation as the first and last angel is pointed out. This not only goes for the series but also the Rebuilds as well and it works thematically. Kaworu's the 13th angel in Rebuilds and this is juxtaposed in FINAL with Unit 01 as well as 13. 01 in FINAL is considered Hope whereas 13 is considered Despair. Before Kaworu's 'demotion' he was hopeful in that he would be able to save the world without mass death on his head. When realizing he was set up when Shinji retrieves the spears in Rebuilds, he becomes the 13th. In the original this manifests as Kaworu feeling hopeful that he found someone who finally understood him. Someone whom he could love and laugh with. 'Human hope is made of sorrow.' has even more depth, when the above is considered added with Kaworu's empathetic nature. He understands the needs of man, because he feels this way too.

Kaworu feels hope when being around Shinji (Also makes 'I may have been born to meet you' more wholesome) but a sense of sorrow knowing his mission.

He becomes desperate, understanding that if man were to live, he'd need to die.

This is probably the only part I strongly disagree with. One of the biggest horrors of Evangelion is that people do take from others (and they often get away with murder). The cast heaps baggage on each other, or neglects them unless a situation comes in which benefits them. It's not a nihilist bent that Eva goes on, because it'd contradict that anywhere could be paradise. It highlights that humanity is ugly without going into a 'so get over it' angle. Eva highlights that realities are often ugly, but hardly defeatist or smugly pessimistic.

Kaworu's likened to Rei in their sad realities. He sets up to become something larger, but the reasons differ. Kaworu does humanity a kindness of his own accord. Rei? Becomes a mother figure simply because her whole existence of a man's unhealthy coping mechanisms. She is conditioned, start to finish to be a mother. Even though she understands more of her identity thanks to Kaworu, her tragedy is that she doesn't know how not to be anything maternal. Kaworu's kindness is his own and his tragedy derives in knowing the cycle but being a slave to it. His ultimate tragedy is that, for how powerful he is, he's still susceptible to unhealthy cycles, forced to play out that role until it is broken.

It's pointed out that Shinji's depressive spiral goes deeper with Kaworu's death and not just because of the event itself. 'Death is the only freedom.' are chilling words from a boy who could not control his existence but could control his death. This makes the likening of Kaworu to Shinji all the more tragic. Much of Shinji's life was rife with neglect up until this point. Then he had to get rid of a genuine source of validation.

The love of Kaworu and Shinji is mutual. MC dives into misconceptions of how Kaworu and Shinji's relationship is platonic because it lacks the suggestive closeups of Misato, Rei, and Asuka (it's own can of worms). EOE debunks the platonic bent as well the Rebuilds with the numerous references. There's even a heart shaped tree where Shinji and Kaworu play Quatre Mains!

Anno even states Kaworu as an idealized other.

Kaworu's proxy status as a father and mother is noted. While Anno uses chichi (father) as a designation for Adam, Kaworu uses hahataru sonzai for Our Mother. This explains why Kaworu stands as judge over Gendo alongside Rei and Yui. This latter of the designations makes sense, given Adam's status as the progenitor for angels.

Kaworu's status as integral to the plot of Eva is especially solidified during Instrumentality. Rei and Kaworu represent the desire to understand the world around and unconditional love, respectively. He, along with Rei, teaches Shinji that if he were to come back physically, AT Fields would exist once more. Pain would exist. People would not know each other fully. And Shinji allows that for mankind, even after knowing this revelation.'

People like Rei and Kaworu can exist, however. But in our lives, our sometimes unforgiving realities, people like that are rare. There are people that love you for being you. There are people that want to comprehend the complexities the world hands us. I hope that one day, you find both.

That we all find both. That too, is why anywhere can be paradise as long as you have that will to live.

All in all, I loved MC's meticulous dissection of Kaworu's character. It's a welcome addition and it was easy to follow along through all of it. I recommend watching it for anyone reading this who has the time. It's some of the most indepth Kaworu analysis i'd seen in the years I'd been in this fandom and I thank MC for the write-up. And I thank you, anon, for redirecting me to this video dissertation.

#neon genesis evangelion #kaworu #kawoshin #shinji ikari #correct me if i'm wrong #abuse mention

[immortalarizona]

“This is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you the Scarlet Witch.”

— Agatha Harkness

a sketch showcasing my Wanda design!! credit to @adorkastock for the pose reference used :)

below the cut is a full breakdown of my design, including its evolution, my thought process, and other unposted drawings relating to this project, so read on if you’re interested!!

okay, so real talk, I first decided I wanted to make my own Wanda design because I Could Not be bothered to keep looking up refs for whatever tf is going on with her mcu costume bodice. I mean, look at this:

I mean, maybe it looks okay onscreen, but there’s so many fiddly little details, especially around the collar, and it was just a pain to draw whenever I would draw my Wanda. and okay I’ll be real I also wanted to distance my Wanda from the whitewashed Wendy version of her, because I Do What I Want. and also, the dullness of the reds did not spark joy within my heart. she’s the Scarlet Witch, people, not the Vaguely Maroon Witch!!

and I fell in love with the Kevin Wada design when I first saw it. it’s gorgeous, it’s sleek, it’s witchy, and it’s significantly less frustrating to draw!!

so for a while, I drew my Wanda in a variation of this fit, blended with some of my own touches (a high ponytail + an occasional choker) and a few of the things I did like from her mcu fit (the crown + the half skirt thingamabob + the long cape). but I was still feeling :/ about it, mainly because while the off-the-shoulder design looks lovely, I found it tricky to draw whenever Wanda would raise her hands above her head. exhibit a below:

behold, the sketch for an old drawing I never finished!! and I know artists smarter than me have figured out How The Sleeves, because some comics even today still use this design, but I only have so many brain cells to spend, and I felt like simplifying things for myself even further.

that was when Russell Dauterman’s design for the 2022 Hellfire Gala dropped. and I went FERAL.

it’s gorgeous!! it’s stunning!! high collars my beloved!! so I took the collar design and ran with it for my own design.

behold, a janky rendition of my costume design in the crappy colored pencils provided to us during my fashion design class!! I know, I know, the coloring looks atrocious, but I was working with what I had. now, you may have already noticed some elements not present in any of the designs I cited as my influences. let’s talk about those!!

the sleeves are split from the main bodice as gloves: this was for my own sanity, haha. it was a construction my smol lizard brain could comprehend and work with much better than Whatever is going on with the comics designs.

the red portion of the gloves tapers in kind of a V design rather than cutting off at the fingers: personally, I felt like this accentuated the elegant flow of all the hand gestures Wanda makes when using her powers better than the classic fingerless design, or whatever thumb strap thingy was going on with her MoM costume.

where’d the design for her cloak clasp come from?: now we all know that tumblr’s pixel budget is next to nil, but if you zoom in, you’ll notice that the clasp of Wanda’s cloak is not her M crown design, but rather a golden kinda coffin-shaped thingy. see, I saw this one theory that this hex shape in Wanda’s mcu bodice was an homage to Vision and the Mind Stone, and I liked that theory, so I referenced it with a hex-shaped clasp.

and the runes on her bodice and skirt?: I actually referenced the Enochian font for those!! according to wikipedia, it’s said to be the language of angels, which feels appropriate for a character as tied to cosmic powers as Wanda. also, real talk, it just looks cool. the script on her bodice originally said “not born, forged,” in reference to the Darkhold’s Scarlet Witch prophecy, but it’s become truncated as the bodice has become shorter to accommodate a more high-waisted structure, which I personally believe to be more flattering in general. I added the runes pretty late in the design process to her skirt to tie the whole fit together visually. from an in-universe perspective, I like to think of the writing as Chthon visually marking Wanda as his creation. his witch.

why does Wanda have a high ponytail when she’s never had one in her most recognizable incarnations?: because a) I do what I want, and b) Alba Flores looks STUNNING in a high ponytail.

and let it never be said that I am not fruity as all heck about Wanda Maximoff <3

so there you have it, a Wanda design that I think is as beautiful, regal, and magical as she is, not to mention one that I can draw repeatedly without having to immediately reach for my phone to Yet Again look up references for how the heck the bodice works.

(and really, it only seemed fitting that the Scarlet Witch of Earth-19384 should receive her own unique design.)

#ari does art #long post #mcu #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #alba flores as wanda maximoff #costume design #earth-19384 #marvel #artists on tumblr

[dandylovesturtles]

Fanfic Writer Ask Game!

🎯 🦈?

🎯 Do you have a writing milestone you’re working towards?

nope. I am at the whims of my inspiration and energy levels.

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

in ROTTMNT I would probably say Mikey. I think it's a little easy to lean too hard into the sort of "sweet little brother" thing that a lot of fandom likes (this isn't meant as a callout, lol, I like it too) and forget that he is canonically a little gremlin who is very silly and sometimes pretty gross (I mean he's a 13 to 15-year-old boy so it tracks).

Also he probably has the least defined character arc of literally every main character in the series (including the supporting cast like April, Splinter, Draxum, and both Caseys). Leo has his struggles with his place and identity within the team as well as his growth as a leader, Donnie has his issues with feeling replaced and directly linking his family "needing" him to his family loving him, Raph is struggling to live up to the expectations of the clan and his role as a big brother, April deals with her struggles connecting with her own peers and her fear that she doesn't count as part of the fam, Splinter has a billion things going on, Draxum has a whole redemption arc (truncated as it was) and Casey Sr effectively does too, and Casey Jr. has grief and trauma. And Mikey... would probably have had a really good character arc if we'd gotten the rest of season 2 and season 3!

A lot of Mikey's episodes where he gets to really get feelsy and show his emotions are directly tied to other people's character development, especially Donnie's and Draxum's, so we don't get as much of what his deal is. The only really solid Mikey centric episode is Hot Soup The Game, which definitely brings up Mikey's frustrations with being the youngest and thus babied as a result, so that's something you can draw on for his character, but even that's more tied directly into what he wants from interactions with other people and less about what he wants for himself.

(the truffle episode is super weird... like Mikey learns not to take his friends for granted? I guess?? I wouldn't have expected him to in the first place but yeah I guess that's some character development lol)

(actually as a total side note, it does annoy me a little that when Todd is first introduced as a character in Season 1, the whole point of his superpower being niceness was that he was so nice you'd do anything for him, and even villains were unable to turn him down, which was a really good gag and made him an interesting character. Then at some point it became that Todd's niceness meant he couldn't turn anyone down and suddenly he was just kind of a doormat, to Mikey first in the truffle episode and then all of them later in Todd Scouts. I actually like the Todd Scouts episode but also you didn't have to do that to him lmao)

(actually actually even though I like Todd Scouts I would have loved a version of that episode where Splinter stayed with them in the woods and then we dealt with how his feelings were hurt by the kids being more interested in their phones than his teaching and they could have pointed out that their dad kind of waited until late in life to start teaching them life skills and IDK WE DIDN'T GET THE FAMILY BONDING CAMPING TRIP WHEN THEY GOT CAUGHT IN THE TURTLE TANK IN SEASON 1, WHY DIDN'T WE GET IT IN SEASON 2??)

cough. anyway.

yeah so I always feel bad that when I look at my AUs and stuff I always feel like I give Mikey the least. I'm so sorry, Mikey, you're just already perfect and I don't know where to take you. ;;

Thanks for the ask!

#writer ask game

[slippinmickeys]

Proof of Life 4/?

1. “Dana, I cannot tell you how glad I am to hear your voice,” Ethan says. The connection is not great, a truncated hiss on the line, but he sounds truly relieved. “Honey, I missed you so much.”

She is not sure how to respond. She is thrilled of course, to no longer be a hostage. To have unlimited food, water, and Jesus Christ, a hot shower. But even in the midst of the gunfire, of her producer dying in front of her, her thoughts didn’t once turn to Ethan. She thought of her mother, her nephews. If he’s waiting to hear that she’s missed him too, she’s not sure she can bring herself to say it.

“Dana? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” she says.

“I’m sure you’re tired and…” his words trail off. Traumatized, is probably what he’s thinking. And he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” she says. She is tired. But it’s an emotional exhaustion.

“Honey. I’ve talked with Bill. We’re still going to get you home. The network is going to help cover the cost.” She feels a small amount of guilt for putting a kink in Bill’s plans. The military will no longer be transporting her home, not after her insistence on being brought to the mainland and onto the closest US base. His superiors were not thrilled, and neither is he.

“Okay,” she says. There is something he’s not saying, she can hear it in his voice.

He hesitates a moment longer.

“Listen, the network… They want to do an interview. As soon as possible. Do you feel up to doing that?”

It sounds like the very last thing she’s interested in doing.

“Ethan, I don’t know,” she says, weary. What would she even say in an interview? Yes, I was kidnapped at gunpoint and my friend and producer was killed in front of me. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to be raped. I was held hostage without enough food and I passed the time by falling in love with my cellmate and having a lot of sex.

“I get it honey, you’ve been through a lot,” he says. He needs to stop calling her honey. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what, Ethan?” she says testily. No part of her wants to be having this conversation right now.

“The network. They… They paid a lot of money to the rebels for your release. They spent countless resources trying to find where you were being kept. There was a full week’s worth of news cycle on you when you were taken, and now that you’ve been rescued, it’s back in full swing. We’ve had requests for interviews from all the broadcast networks. But I feel like we owe it to CNN to appear there first.”

She is struck silent by his words. Ever the newsman, his priorities have remained the same since they met. And the word “we” bothers her.

“I’ll be right with you the whole time. I’ll pre-screen every question. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“That’s… very kind of you,” she says, with no emotion.

There is another hiss of static on the phone.

“Listen, it sounds like we have a bad connection,” he says. “I’m going to let you go. Bill should have your flight information by morning. I love you.”

She does not say it back.

2. They met, embarrassingly enough, at a pub.

She had actually agreed to go out with some friends from the hospital — something she never did — and they both ordered the same drink while standing next to each other at the bar, something fruity and pink. She was impressed at the confidence with which he placed his order and told him as much. He was impressed by her.

They began dating soon after, about a year after Ethan had started at CNN. She was working in pediatrics — something she both loved and hated — when Ethan brought up an idea one night while they were out to dinner.

“So one of my segments tomorrow,” he says. “The guest dropped out just as I was leaving for dinner.”

“Is that why you were late?” she asks.

He gives her a small smile, ignores her question and plows ahead. “It’s a story on the phenomenon of misinformation as it pertains to the AIDS epidemic.”

“Oh, Ethan,” she says, suddenly and genuinely interested in his work. She forgets to be annoyed at him. “That’s fantastic. There’s so much bad information out there.”

His smile gets wider.

“I was thinking,” he goes on. “That maybe you could step in.”

She’s confused. “What do you mean?”

“You could step in and be the guest. The medical expert. For the segment.”

“You mean on air?” She’s flummoxed by the idea. It’s ludicrous.

“Yes,” he says simply.

“Ethan, I’m not an epidemiologist. I’m not… There are far more qualified people that would do a much better job than I. Like… Spitzer. Or Harris. Or… who’s that guy from NYU, the one who wrote the paper? He could take the train down and be here in plenty of time.”

His grin has only gotten wider.

“I tried,” he says. “They’re all at a conference in Amsterdam. Listen, you’d do great. You know your stuff, you can think on your feet and, I mean… you’d look fantastic on camera.” He is playing on her vanity now.

“Kirby would have a heart attack,” she says, stabbing the olive in her drink with the straw. Kirby is an executive producer, and Ethan’s boss.

“Kirby already approved it.”

She was running low on arguments and he could sense the blood in the water.

“You’d be on air for five minutes, tops. And we can pay you.”

When she heard the amount, she blanched. She had med school loans to pay back and Ethan knew it.

In the end, she agreed to do it. And once she’d done it, she found that she liked it. Was good at it. Kirby was so thrilled with her performance that he asked her to come back, and eventually, to be an on-call medical expert. Not long after that, she was offered her own monthly segment that sent her out into the field. Ethan’s star began to climb. They moved in together. And one thing led to another which led to another, an odd snowballing effect which led her to a street corner in a war-torn city in West Africa, where she was kidnapped by a group of rebels and thrown into an upper floor hotel room with a man she had never met.

Where the course of her life once again took another hard right turn.

3. She has reached a level of numbness that she can’t fight her way out of.

She doesn’t actually want to fly back to the States. Well, she does, but she wants to find Mulder first. To talk to him, to explain. To have an honest conversation about what they went through and What Happens Next. What must he have thought when he saw Ethan on the base television? When he read the chyron under his name, when he heard him say ‘I want to put my arms around her and never let go?’

What must he be going through? Whatever it is, she feels like they should be going through it together. Nothing feels right anymore. For weeks and weeks all her experiences were filtered through a lens of the two of them together. Every decision she has to make now comes with the impulse of wanting to turn to him to see what he thinks about it.

Their relationship in the Hilton was something they were in the middle of. Everything inside her is screaming we weren’t done! It’s like they were mid-conversation when someone cut the phone line.

Ethan, her boyfriend, the man she has built a life with, feels like an annoyance, a pesky insect she wants to brush from her shoulder. Her life had narrowed to the four walls of a hotel room and the man that was harbored within them. The world outside of it is too much. She wants nothing to do with it. She wants Mulder and the narrow, fixed point of her life as it intersected with his. Nothing else feels right. It’s too much. She wants to be rid of it.

So she chooses to feel nothing. She chooses the hebetude of nihility. It’s not the healthiest choice, but at least it’s hers.

4. She tries on calling him Fox. Like slipping on a sweater she isn’t sure will suit her, she calls him by his first name.

“Fox,” she says, letting the X draw out a little, letting it hover in the air like a fine mist of smoke. She is wearing nothing but the natty sheet from the bed, which makes her feel libidinous and a little bit bratty. She’d like to reach out to touch him, but he’s on the other side of the room.

When he hears her say it, he winces. There’s a story there.

“You don’t like your name,” she observes.

He wanders back towards her a little, but gets caught in a shaft of sunlight streaming into the room.

Outside the window and up, up, the clouds look like cotton candy. They could be in Kansas, in Iowa, in one of those states in the middle with a lot of Walmarts and Republicans. Outside the window and down, there is the burnt-out husk of a Ford, there is a rounded shape of what once might have been a human turning to leather in the sun. A khaki colored dog trots by, like it has somewhere better to be.

“I—,” he starts, “I even made my parents call me Mulder.”

He gets to the bed where she’s waiting and lowers himself onto it, reaching out to touch her arm.

“Is that so?” she says.

He shrugs, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. Scully senses pain behind his silence and touches her hand over his where it rests on her arm. He rolls his hand over so their palms are touching and laces his fingers through hers.

“‘Fox’ was the last thing my sister ever said to me,” he says, looking at the floor. “She was calling out to me, asking for help. She was calling my name.”

A hard shot of empathetic pain darts through her chest.

“What happened to her, Mulder?” she asks quietly. If he doesn’t want to answer, she won’t force the issue.

He squeezes her hand and then lowers himself onto the floor next to the bed, leaning against it, the back of his head resting on the mattress.

“I was twelve when it happened. She was eight…”

5. “Tell us about the picture, Dana,” Maureen, the interviewer asks her, empathy or sympathy or pity edging into her speech from all sides.

The woman hands her an 8x10 color reproduction of the proof of life picture the rebels had taken, ever so slightly out of focus, the cheap little flash making her hair look like the orange of a lava flow. Mulder is standing just beside and slightly behind her and so he’s a little bit darker, and his beard in the picture is really just a few days worth of stubble. They both look frightened, a little stunned.

“Did the picture give you hope?” Maureen asks.

“Did it give me hope?” she asks, confused. She had been shoved up against the wall with guns in her face; hope was so far off in the distance it wasn’t even on the horizon.

“When they took the picture. The Proof of Life. Did you know then that we were trying to get you home? Did it give you hope?”

There’s that word “we” again. Scully swallows, looks down, shakes her head.

“He gave me hope,” she says quietly, staring at the Mulder in the photograph.

She thinks of his narrow hips between hers, his hands spanning her ribs. She thinks of the pictures he took, the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.

“Fox Mulder?” Maureen asks her. “The other hostage?”

Scully nods, then finally pulls her eyes from the photograph and looks for Ethan in the darkness just behind the camera. She doesn’t see him. It’s hard to see anything with the lights so bright in her eyes.

“Yes,” she says, coming back to herself, remembering to be professional. “The other hostage. We leaned on each other.”

Maureen leans forward eagerly. “Why don’t you tell me about that, Dana.”

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #war correspondent/photojournalist AU

[aihoshiino]

chapter 132 thoughts!

I FORGOT WE WERE GETTING THE CHAPTER THIS EARLY. OSHI NO JUMPSCARE!!

All joking aside, seeing some of this new movie material is very interesting. Given her focus on smiles, I wonder if Nino is at all inspired by the similarly named Nico from Love Live?

And holy crap, it's the real Takamine and Nino! Seeing them here was a bit of a surprise but it does sew up some internal logic that some folks had been questioning for a while - such as the fact that you, uh, can't make a movie about real people without their permission! This seems to confirm that the B-Komachi members included in the movie, at least, were fine with their portrayal even with it being relatively negative. Indeed, Takamine seems to be taking things in good humor even if her bossiness hasn't gone anywhere in the intervening years…

That said, I think this does highlight one of the emerging issues of the Movie Arc which is just that things are feeling so… truncated, I guess. Given that OnK is supposed to be about the entertainment industry and how closely it has focused on this sort of behind the scenes technical stuff, it feels really weird that we're just blasting past anything that could be inconvenient or slow down the filming even if it would be interesting to see. Like, how did Himekawa feel about this script, that portrays his mother (presumably) as a child abuser? Was there any legal red tape involve in portraying these real people? What did the old B-Komachi think about this movie proposal? It's just weird that we're not getting any focus on these sorts of details when they're otherwise Onk's bread and butter,

And speaking of things that feel weird… is it just me or is it kind of bizarre to see the twins having such a lowkey, understated conversation? This is the first time they've had an extended on screen exchange since the big reveal and it's kind of… nothing. In general, there has been a really baffling lack of focus on Aqua with regards to Ruby in the last chunk of chapters (seriously, no reaction at all to Ai!Ruby?? For real???) and Ruby similarly was in such a loved up haze about him it's weird to see her being so chilled out.

That said… Ruby calling him 'Sensei' is interesting. It confirms more or less that she is essentially projecting/overriding Aqua with Gorou and seeing him entirely as the latter and I can't help but wonder if our relative lack of insight into Aqua's thoughts and feelings since this reveal dropped are because he's having a very different set of emotions to this recontextualization of their dynamic than Ruby would like…

Moving on to Kana and Nino, I think this is a super interesting conversation for a whole lot of reasons I'll get into shortly but mostly for how it characterizes Kana and the KanKane rivalry in contrast to Nino and B-Komachi. To paraphrase a friend, the main tension that fuels KanKane's animosity towards each other is the pedestal Akane put Kana up when she was young and the way she continues to characterize Kana largely only in relation to that pedestal, whether she's on or off it. Akane has not, however, fallen as far as the B-Komachi members and in turn, Kana refuses to do the same. Regardless of her idolization of Kana, Akane acknowledges her as a rival who can be beaten — and therefore, implicitly, a flawed human. That the two of them can have victories and losses in their relationship means they recognize each other as equals. And as Nino puts it, that simply didn't exist in B-Komachi because 'nobody could rival Ai'. The process of idolization is also a process of dehumanization.

And this process, IMO, reveals something incredibly exciting I've been wondering for months. This chapter almost without a doubt confirms Nino as the narrator of 45510, one of the canon short stories written by Aka. The tangle of hatred, desire, jealousy, admiration, animosity and idolization are all things expressed both by Nino and the 45510 narrator who we know to be one of the founding B-Komachi members. Not only that, but her destructive vindictiveness towards anything that could tarnish her image of the perfect idol, Ai, as expressed in 45510 also surfaces here… but I'm getting ahead of myself.

evil gay women huge w miss nino i'm free thursday night and would like to hang out please respond to th

The moment between Ruby-as-Ai and Nino is both sweet and a little disconcerting for a variety of reasons. Ruby's intentions here are undeniably kind and it was, ironically, incredible like Ai of her to see someone in pain and immediately decide she wanted to reach out and do her best to help. Even so, it's a little eerie to see Ruby so confidently put words in Ai's mouth when we ourselves know just how deeply Ai was hurt by the animosity thrown her way by the other girls.

And Nino… whoa boy.

This exchange more than anything else confirms 100% for me that Nino is the 45510 narrator. Her disgust and immediate rejection of Ai's humanity and the possibility that she could be vulnerable and hurt is exactly the same as the one that leads the 45510 narrator to delete Ai's final cry for help. She clings to the image of Ai's perfection in her mind, unable to conceptualize her as anything other than a shining, invincible, untouchable goddess because then she might have to take responsibility for the fact that Ai was just a human who was in pain and that Nino exacerbated that pain.

thank god kana is here to say what we're all thinking. she's right, too. gen 1 b-komachi is a freakshow and i don't respect literally any of these people

And the last page…

I honestly don't know what to make of it, really. It's exciting to see Hikaru potentially finally getting involved in the story and to confirm a connection between him and Nino. This raises a whole armada's worth of flags about her involvement in and knowledge of the events that lead to Ai's murder but with so little info to go on, it's hard to make a guess either way. It's also, admittedly, a little hard to get too excited about this just because the manga has been so unfocused lately, bouncing around from topic to topic and even things that seem to be gearing up to have a major impact on the story and characters have just breezed by without any long term changes. I hope that this means the movie arc is finally really getting into gear but… man, I don't think I'll know what to make of it until we're on the other side and can review it in hindsight.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers

[mistydeyes]

periwinkles and daffodils

summary: A young Kyle spends the summer in the Worcestershire countryside and makes a new flower obsessed friend.

pairing: Gaz x childhood love! fem!Reader

warnings: FLUFF! Literally just some childhood crushes and cuteness, UK inaccuracies (especially with geography)

a/n: There isn't enough Gaz love on here and I'm gonna change that

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There were only two things in your life that remained consistent, flowers and Kyle Garrick. Well, maybe only one thing. Flowers could always be plucked from your garden during the warmer months or from your local grocer's when the weather turned cool and the leaves began to fall. Even in the dead of winter, you were able to have the most colorful and pristine petals gently wrapped and shipped to your doorstep from a warmer continent. Kyle, on the other hand, was not as easy to access. As you sat trimming your newest floral harvest, you reminisced about the days spent in the garden and with your old friend.

Periwinkle - Tender recollections

Growing up in the countryside of Worcestershire allowed you and your mum to care for a front lawn of wildflowers and a garden filled with rows of cultivated flowers. She was the town's florist, widowed too early due to a reckless driver. You had no memories of your father but your mother made sure to be the support system you needed from two parents. From a young age, she painstakingly taught you all you needed to know about life. She began with basic life skills such as cooking as well as encouraging you to read and write from an early age. Your bookshelf was never empty as she kept it stocked with classics, books about famous scientists, and numerous language workbooks. However, she was most proud when showing you how to maintain a garden filled with fickle flowers. She would tell you when to water a drooping English rose bush and how to test the soil's acidity to know what color the blooming hydrangeas would eventually show. In Year 1 for an assignment, you proudly depicted your mother in her faded overalls and bandana, surrounded by flowers with smiley faces and their floral names written as name tags.

"Mum what does this one mean?" you questioned as you plucked a delicate navy blue flower from its stem. In your small hands, you held it at its truncated base and pinched the funnel-shaped petals gently. As you examined it further, you could see the petals were separated by a deep maroon and you admired the richness that painted the singular flower. "Those are morning glories, my love. They mean 'affection'," your mum answered, balancing a basket filled with bunches of dahlias, striped tulips, chrysanthemums, and peonies. "You should write that down in your notebook, the one the neighbour boy gave you."

Daffodils - new beginnings

Following the end of Year 1, a small boy began living next door to you with his grandparents. They introduced him as Kyle, their grandson from Manchester, who would be staying with them for the entirety of the warmer months. Your mum had known this as his grandmother frequently exchanged baked goods for a beautifully arranged bouquet and some English lavender to cook with. The elderly Garricks were there for your mum following the loss of her husband and helped her out when she had to manage the florist shop. They were the family you needed and you were excited to meet their actual grandson.

When he first moved in, your mother held your hand and walked you to their house. You were dressed in your typical summer gardening clothes, khaki shorts, and a light airy shirt that was a few sizes too big for you. She allowed you to hold her newest bouquet along with your hand-written Welcome card made with crayons and dried flowers. As you exited the rows of wildflowers and walked up his sidewalk, you could see a small boy your age laughing with his grandma on the porch.

"Good afternoon, you must be Kyle," your mum said as the little boy ran to hide behind his grandma's rustic rocking chair.

"Now, Kyle, don't be shy. Look Y/N has something to give to you!" his grandma replied slowly pushing Kyle in your direction.

"These are my mummy's flowers," you said sweetly. "She also told me to say that each of these has a meaning."

"Go on, Y/N," your mother said as she went to sit opposite Kyle's grandmother. You took a seat on the porch and put the bouquet into Kyle's small hands.

"You can take the string to make it easier," you said. You then began pointing to each flower, "These purple and lilac ones are wisterias and they mean 'welcome', these other purple ones are periwinkles, I picked them out myself! These mean 'early friendship'," you continued.

"Wait I know what this is! My city mum has it dried in our kitchen" he excitedly said and went to pick up the various musky, floral-scented valerian flowers. As he picked at the small delicate, pink blossoms he asked, "Do they have a meaning too?"

"It's two big words, but I think my mum knows!" you responded, just as you spoke your mum heard your struggle and elaborated, "It means an 'accommodating disposition'. It's to describe someone easy to get along with and always willing to be there for you.

"That's so cool!" Kyle said, "I have a notebook with all these big words to show to my Manchester friends. In Year 2, I'm going to be the smartest one," he beamed.

He quickly ran inside and retrieved two journals. Both were made of leather and were no bigger than a regular soft-cover book. One was worn with the spine showing where Kyle had opened the book and placed it flat to write. The other looked new, showing no signs of wear.

"My grandad made this for me, he also made one for you," he said and handed you the journal. "He said to give it to you so we can write in it together, you with flowers and mine with big, adult words."

You could hear the women chuckle, the shy Kyle was quick to come around to you and was talking as if you had been best friends since elementary.

"Wait, we should get cool flower names together and write them inside," he shouted, clearly showing his enthusiasm.

"My teacher says my handwriting is bad so I'll ask my mum. Plus she knows like a whole book on flower meanings," you said and got up with Kyle walking towards your mother.

She took out a pen from her pocket and held your journals in her hand. As she thought for a moment, she suddenly gasped jokingly as if a lightbulb went off and scribbled in both of your books.

Neatly written in your mother's handwriting were both of your names. Under Kyle's was 'Sycamore - Curiosity' and under yours was 'Clematis - Mental beauty'

For the rest of the summer, you and Kyle were inseparable. Being one of the only children in your village, you found comfort in each other. Some days, he would come over to your home, helping your mum with weeding and watering. She gave you both small satchels that you could hold your notebooks and pencils in. As you followed her around, you would try your best to legibly write the flower, what it looked like, and its meaning. Kyle, on the other hand, would be asking your mum for definitions whenever she used words like perennials, idyllic, or serendipity.

When your mum had to manage her shop, you went to his house. You would always walk back to your house full and covered in flour. His grandma, affectionately called Nana, put you both to work. In the morning, she would show you both how to make a variety of bread from scratch and taught you both patience as you had to wait for the bread to rise. In the afternoon, she would be pulling cookbooks off the shelf to cook a new dish from a different country. She used to work as a flight attendant and always made sure to eat at least one new thing while on a layover. Her laughs would fill the room as both you and Kyle leaned over the sink to drink some water after she fed you some spicy peppers. As a reward for building your spice tolerance, she would gift you with Grandad's award-winning lemonade. He would usually be in his workshop, working on leather goods and other items to sell at the local market but always would come out to make some lemonade.

One time, your mother sent you a cheesecloth filled with mint, marigolds, and honeysuckles to add to the lemonade. Ever the child, you dug your hand into the finished lemonade and tried to put a marigold behind Kyle's ear. You chased him around the kitchen island with your sticky, sugary fingers until you finally were able to tuck it behind his left ear. Little did you know, during your little Ring Around the Rosie, he was able to grab some loose flour and threw it at you. Needless to say, Nana and Grandad made you both sit in the tub while they attempted to clean the sticky lemonade and flour off both of your clothes.

At the end of summer, you tearfully gripped a flower bouquet in your hand. Kyle's mum was coming to get him today and bring him back to Manchester for the new school year. You had numerous conversations with your mother and she explained, "This isn't a goodbye, more of an 'I'll see you again soon!'" Her decision to send you with freesias (lasting friendship), pansy (think of me), rosemary (remembrance), and forget-me-nots (one of your favorites as it had a literal meaning), seemed fit.

As you walked to his room, you could hear your mum chatting with his describing the amazing summer you both had. You nudged his door open, you could also see his eyes puffy from crying all morning. His room was missing his books, including a dictionary you gifted him with from the local bookshop. As you went to sit next to him, you could see he held the familiar leather journal. He had added 3 more pages and you were jealous of his neat handwriting.

"I have some flowers for you," you said and laid them in his hand. "I also wrote you a note so you wouldn't forget what they mean." With that, you pulled out a piece of floral stationery from your pocket and handed it to him. As he looked at it, a small tear fell on the paper and soon you both were in a puddle of tears. Once you both cried all your emotions out, he tucked the tear-stained paper in his journal and pulled you into a hug.

"Please come back next summer, I'll have a new collection of flowers to show you and my mum will have more words for you to learn," you said, voice breaking.

"Until next summer," Kyle said and you both walked down to his mum's car. Your mum held you tight to her side as you both waved him goodbye in front of your signature wildflower lawn. ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #gaz imagine #kyle garrick imagine #mw2 #izzie is writing

[sirfrogsworth]

I am only 3 minutes and 8 seconds into Rebel Moon and it is already gorgeous to look at and it already has some annoying Zach Snyder shit going on.

The man cannot get out of his own way.

He actually reminds me a bit of George Lucas. In the original trilogy he had his wife (at the time) save Star Wars in the edit, then he hired writers and directors for Empire and RoTJ to manifest his story and vision. There was always someone to pull him back and keep him from going FULL LUCAS.

I mean, whoever convinced him to truncate "Adventures of Luke Starkiller, as taken from the Journal of the Whills, Saga I: The Star Wars" deserves half of his net worth.

But in the prequel trilogy, George was the boss. He wrote everything. He directed everything. And there are bits that are just wonderful spectacle and genius world building. But there was no one preventing him from going FULL LUCAS and suddenly we have Jar Jar and Hayden Christensen trying to make the hatred of sand seem interesting.

With 300, Zach was unproven and had to be careful. He couldn't unleash and go FULL SNYDER. He made something unique that no one had ever seen and even though in hindsight the color grading looks a bit crunchy and we realized there wasn't much of a story, the sheer novelty impressed a lot of people—me included. It was a super enjoyable popcorn movie experience at the time and showed great potential. The man knew how to make shit look cool, no doubt about it.

But then his ego got pumped to massive proportions and studios gave him a blank check and full creative control. He still made some really cool looking shit, but that novelty wore off and the lacking storytelling skills started rearing their ugly head.

I wonder if Sucker Punch would be tolerable if you put it on mute, enjoyed the pretty pictures, and maybe played Pink Floyd's "The Wall" along with it.

I don't know if a movie ever went as FULL SNYDER as that one and it revealed he could really use someone to pull him back.

If Zach Snyder were to ever find a lamp with a genie inside, his first wish should just be self awareness.