#a caricature app

[harrywatson4u]

To create a caricature app like Photo Maker, utilize Dev Technosys for development. Implement image manipulation algorithms for distorting facial features. Integrate user-friendly controls for customization. Include sharing options for social media. Ensure compatibility across devices for seamless user experience.

#cost to maintain a caricature app #steps to build an caricature app #features of caricature app #a caricature app #app development #app design

[ethancrossmedia]

An experiment I made yesterday, a caricature of me in 2D cartoon comic art style. I didn't draw this, it was automatically converted from the photo and made using the ToonMe app.

#toonme app #toon me #caricature

[radfem-on-toast]

I’m not sure why nobody’s talking about this, but I’m going to say it: sex between men is damaging in the same ways BDSM and autogynephilia are. And now don’t come at me with your qu**r bullshit, hear me out.

We all know men just think with their dicks, right? And gay men are no exception to this, not by any fucking means. Grindr (the gay “dating” app, if you’re lucky enough not to know) literally has an option for “sex right now” in the “I’m looking for friends/a relationship etc.” column.

When a man penetrates another man, that is an act that normalises abuse much like BDSM. It’s often painful to the receptive partner, and a huge part of the pleasure for the penetrative partner is in relishing in that pain. Normalising practices like this leads to stuff like more than 25% of gay men experiencing abuse from their partner (Source, from a “pro-lgbtqia+” source if you have any doubts: https://dcvlp.org/domestic-violence-peaks-more-than-ever-for-the-lgbtqia-community/).

This does not mean that the receptive partner is blameless. Arguably, their paraphilia is even worse. Think about it: how many men do you know that would let, let alone say they enjoy despite the obvious pain, another man penetrating them? It is clearly a form of autogynephilic paraphilia. Just like TIMs get off on assuming the role of a caricature of a woman during sex, receptive partners in gay sex get off on the degradation of penetration, of being made to assume the role of a female caricature subjugated to a man.

Women should not be afraid to call this out! If you’re willing to call out the excesses of BDSM and autogynephilia, you shouldn’t be silent on the way gay sex perpetuates patriarchal values like domestic abuse and the degradation of women.

#radical feminism #terfblr #radblr #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact #radical feminists do touch #radical feminst

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Up All Night 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, narcissim, probably name calling and nasty words, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (older!reader)

Note: I wasn't serious about this but now I were. Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You rub your cheek as you check the time in the corner of the screen. You should’ve been gone an hour ago, you should have your bottle of shiraz and your episode of housewives to keep you company. You don’t know why you expected that, nothing ever goes to schedule, not with your boss.

You sigh at his empty office. You haven’t seen him for two days. He has an automatic reply that he’s ‘working remotely’. You know Mr. Drysdale well enough. He doesn’t work outside the office, he barely does anything at the office.

You go back to the PDF, your red notes in the margin of the manuscript. Big meeting tomorrow. Hopefully your boss got that message. You can only imagine what would happen if a publishing house missed their introductory conference with a major writer. That could mean thousands, if not millions, in losses. Somehow, you suspect you won’t have to imagine.

You finish the chapter and press your finger to your phone. It lights up but you don’t have anything more than the several reminders you set for yourself and automated notifications from apps you never use. Drysdale…

His last name rolls from your throat without meaning too. Something about him just irks you to the bone. Maybe it’s envy, or at very least, resent. You’ve worked all these years in the publishing business to become an assistant, all while he was born into his editor’s chair.

Another bubble pops up. You’re not the social media type. You never got much into it. Your generation came a bit too early for that, but you’ve found with men like Drysdale, narcissists really, it is a great tool.

You tap the notification and it opens the story. There he is, taking a shot with a pair of statuesque twins. Not the best look for an editor, on that night, of all nights. 

You clamp your lips shut and flare your nostrils. Right. You close your laptop as you see Eugene making his sweep. Once security pops up, you know you’ve got to go. You pack up your things and say hello to the man in the blue uniform on your way out. He knows you by name too.

You shift your glasses on your nose, the little rubber pieces starting to squeeze your bridge. You come out the front of the building and make your way to the only car left in the lot. You throw your bag in the back and drop into the front seat.

No wine for you. You’ll have to stream the episode when it comes out on Prime. You set a new alarm for the morning, early enough for you to make sure Mr. Drysdale meets his obligations.

📗

As expected, you don’t have a single call from Drysdale. You’ve left several messages since your alarm blared and broke through your four hours of sleep. You see his last activity on Insta from three in the morning and you want to throttle your own phone. This isn’t good.

You have only enough time to get yourself ready. Your morning routine of a perfectly portioned breakfast and precisely brewed dark roast is nixed. You get in your car with coffee in a travel mug. You have only one thing on your mind.

As you draw up the long drive to the ultra-modern facade, the revulsion courses from your stomach into your throat. There’s something about his style that makes your eyes roll. So obnoxious and absurd. He’s exactly a caricature of a silver-spooned brat.

You park behind the beamer and take a draw from your insulated mug. Ugh, you need caffeine, you need strength and patience. You put it back in the cupholder and force yourself out of the peace of the front seat.

You stride up the white stone walkway and hit the doorbell. Once. Twice. Five times before you admit you will not receive an answer. You bring up the emergency file in your phone and key in the door code. Drysdale would shit if he knew his mother sent you it but she is a lot smarter than him. It makes you wonder how the apple rolled so far away after falling.

You let yourself in. It’s quiet but for the catch and skip of a forgotten record. You go into the front room. Open bottles of liquor forgotten on the glass table, a broken glass on the floor, and the record player crackling through the speaker.

You pull the needle off and pause to look out through the transparent wall that gives a clear view of the entire room. You know Drysdale to be shameless but really?

You put your phone away and approach the stares. The large gap between each gives a sense of vertigo to your ascent. You get to the top and head down the hall, glancing down over the entryway as you do.

You carry on and open a door; closet. The next, a bathroom, the other, a bedroom but not used. And finally, you find the door you’re looking for. On the other side, Mr. Drysdale sleeps with his ass naked in the room, upside down on the bed with his head hanging off the foot. The same woman from his Instagram are entwined with him as they sleep the right side up. Ugh, you don’t want to picture it.

You go into the en suite bathroom and take the sleek black plastic cup from beside the sink. You fill it with cold water and unhook the amber satin robe from the door as you pass. You march to the bed and dump the water onto Ransom’s head, watching it splash down his back.

He yipes and whips his head up with an unattractive snort, “what the fuck–”

“Robert Laing is due at nine. It’s ten to eight.” You drop the robe over him carelessly and spin on your heel, “let’s go., Mr. Drysdale.”

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #drabble #au #up all night #series #the club #knives out

[comradekatara]

You are one of the few people on this app who understand Katara’s character. Your takes on her never miss

thank you. i think that katara lends herself to being a site of projection due to her presentation and the function she performs in the narrative. it’s not that people don’t also do this with aang, zuko, sokka, toph, etc., but people mold katara to the standard of feminine ideal (simultaneously viewing her as an embodiment of motherhood and maidenhood) in a distinctly misogynistic way. of course patronizingly idealizing katara in this way is only side of the coin, and many others can only fixate on her flaws as the locus of their dislike for her character (these people belong to the school of “if a character is noticeably flawed, then that makes them a bad character,” because apparently they never graduated eighth grade mandatory reading of catcher in the rye), but in my experience, i’ve hardly ever seen people outright claim that they dislike her character.

however, viewing katara as the site of a projected feminine fantasy is equally harmful imo, because it erases the agency of her character, and she is, fundamentally, a character packed with agency. i think the show itself is liable to participate in this erasure of agency whenever they frame her through aang’s pov through a distinctly romantic lens (which is probably why i’ve never been fully on board w katang), but if the show occasionally falls victim to this framing, the fandom magnifies that by 1000. and to be clear, im not saying that aang is at fault for viewing katara in this way, a) because aang is fully allowed to have a crush on his friend and b) because aang isn’t fucking real lmfao, he is but a facet of a constructed narrative, and it is the framing i am taking issue with, not the characters (because they aren’t people, and talking about characters as if they are real people is almost always inane).

anyway, this is all to say that whether by defining katara solely by her flaws, or through manifesting a projected ideal out of a collection of her virtues, or simply by interpreting her through a racist/colonial/misogynistic framework (many such cases), reducing katara to a singular caricature or trope is extremely prevalent among fans (although katara is hardly the only character they do this with, either), which is such a shame—particularly because she is such a rich, complex, layered, multidimensional, agentic character. the portrayal of a (teenage, indigenous, brown) girl who is both visibly flawed and undeniably heroic is so important within our media landscape, and i know i am not alone when i say that since childhood, she has left an indelible mark on my psyche.

#girlbosstomie #asks #katara #analysis #meta-analysis rly. lol #what fraction of my blog do you reckon is just . This genre of post at this point #lmfao #katara is so good it’s crazy #no one gets her but that’s ok she’s still ahead of her time fifteen years later you guys still aren’t ready for her #and that’s FINE #<- me lying to myself to cope

[littlemisstfc]

How The Bayverse Failed Optimus Prime

Hello, hola, こんにちは。

Welp, it’s been eighty four years since I have written a Transformers essay for Tumblr, huh? I do deeply apologize for my months-long hiatus on this funky T app. I was busy being a gaslighting, gatekeeping girlboss in the wilds of the bird app and that funny video app I think the kids call Taki Taki. Huh. What an odd name for an app. 🧐

Wait, what am I talking about? Wait, I remember. Anyways…

Oh, sweet little Bayverse, my dear archnemesis. Everyone and their mothers have the universal opinion of all opinions: the Bayverse is fundamentally flawed. Even if you hold nostalgic opinions about this franchise, by all means more power to you, you cannot deny that it’s a film series that is basically an 12 year old edgelord’s wet dream. Loud, obnoxious, filled with every horrible stereotype of the human race imaginable (from women to people of color to people with common sense), and lacks an understanding of what made Transformers special. If this movie was a person, it would call me a slur. 😭 But that’s a discussion for another day, and I’ve already made a video about the misogyny of the Bayverse if you’re curious. Check that out in your spare time! 👍🏽

In a nutshell, the Bayverse movies are not good, and there’s no better representation of why the movies lack a basic understanding of the franchise it was adapted from than a character that is essentially a childhood icon for many people:

Optimus Prime.

Everyone and their mothers hold a universal opinion that is sadly present: this man is a maniac who basically says, “GIVE ME YOUR HEAD.” However, Imma about to say something that not only caused a flame war when I brought it up a while back on Twitter, but reflects how the portrayal of Optimus in the movies is flawed in insidious ways:

Optimus is the victim of bad character writing as well as the lack of understanding his core personality. Thus, as a result, this resulted in the, “Bayverse Optimus is a psycho phenomenon” that demonized his visible mental health issues. He was a traumatized individual affected by the tragedies he had to endure throughout his entire life, and the movies did not do his hidden character arc justice. Come along with me on this journey of understanding Bayverse Optimus as a person, not as a demonic caricature that is unfortunately common in the fandom.

3, 2, 1, PINGU.

A Tale of a Bot: The Long Road to A Broken Mind

Optimus’ current personality and outlook on life in general is a result of having a life filled with betrayals and tragedy. Having been orphaned at a young age after the Fallen has killed off the lineage of the Primes, he was taken in by Sentinel Prime as a pupil. Having worked with other Autobots in revitalizing Cybertron into a hospitable world, he was selected by Sentinel to lead the Autobots. At the same time, his true heritage was revealed. However, feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities of his prestigious family history, Optimus turned down Sentinel’s offer. He accepted the responsibility of co-leading Cybertron with his childhood ish friend Megatron, as he is the fair to the latter’s firmness. However, throughout their rule, they clashed multiple times over multiple scenarios such as the arrival of enemy invaders and the discovery of a relic. This was mostly fueled by Megatron’s own resentment and jealousy towards his co leader due to Optimus’ Prime heritage. The boiling point that exploded into war was Megatron and his followers ambushing Prime and his companions while on a trip to Metrotitan. Thus, along with the apparent death of Sentinel through the latter’s ship being shot by Starscream, this drives Optimus in adopting a rage induced mindset towards Megatron. The one he grew up, the one he confided in, the one that he adored so much, the one who has betrayed his trust all for a vain and arrogant quest for the ultimate power. It lays the framework for Optimus’ jaded, yet hopeful outlook on life, something that the movies at least did a job in conveying. It’s also helped by Peter Cullen giving it his all as usual in conveying his sadness buried underneath his stoic demeanor. Thus, along with a few more shenanigans in the comics, this is where the first two movies started.

I appreciate the comics existing, because they took the time to actually develop Optimus’ personality and his mental state as seen in the film series. We see him as a hopeful, naive bot who hopes that one day, Megatron can change his mind and Cybertron will be alive once again. Unfortunately…the one predictable aspect of life is its unpredictability, and god dammit…it reared its ugly head as all hell breaks loose after a certain old bot returned in Dark of The Moon. Dark of The Moon is the true outlier among a sea of mediocrity and awfulness, for the best element it got right: how Sentinel’s betrayal deeply affected Optimus in the long run. This is someone who raised him when he had nothing, someone he deeply loves as a father, someone he trusted whole heartedly. And how does Sentinel repays Optimus’ loyalty and adoration for him in DOTM? Tricking him and the others into leading him to the Allspark, since UH OH he is a Decepticon spy all along, killed the Hit Me With Everything You Got robot, helping Megatron invade Chicago, and planting Seeds in order to revive Cybertron by killing Earth. Optimus saw his mentor going down a path similar to Megatron, which essentially broke his idealistic viewpoint into devastating shards that could never be put together again. I find his confrontation with Sentinel after defeating him in battle very compelling, because you could feel the heartbreak, the anger, and…the disappointment that his mentor is not the the man that he loved as a father. It was Sentinel’s choice to go to the Dark Side, it was Sentinel’s bed to lie on,

Sure, the day was eventually saved in the end. However, everything that Optimus knew and all the people he loved is gone officially. He got his main band of amigos, that’s good. However…he is basically alone in dealing with his thoughts. The universe is a cruel mistress, and it keeps putting our Flamin Hot Cheetos boyo through the ringer.

We get to Age of Extinction, years after the Battle of Chicago. Now on the run thanks to the American government being the American government, he has no one. His friends are also in hiding, Autobots are fugitives in the planet they sought refuge in, and humans are willing to turn him into the authorities. This drives his mental state into something even worse as it is, as years of trauma and stress has finally caught up to him. Like, dude legit needs some weed to soothe his nerves and it is HAUNTING. Reduced to a broken, traumatized man in the safety of a barn, he is left with major trust issues. However, one day, a kind human by the name of Cade Yeagar did the unthinkable: he didn’t turn in Optimus to the authorities. Instead, he chose to repair our Flamin Hot King out of the kindness of his heart once he realizes that Optimus is no ordinary car. Even with the pressures of his family’s financial situation, Cade still chose to help Prime. This is the first step to breaking the first wall of Optimus’ mental state: his trust issues. For a movie infamous for being one of the worst movies in Transformers history, it does a surprisingly excellent job in portraying Optimus’ and Cade’s relationship in a natural progression. They’re both bird of a feather; they’re both tired fathers raising a rebellious teenager while also trying to make it in this crazy ass world. Thus, with Cade still helping him even when his life is in danger multiple times, Optimsu learns to open up to other people for the first time in probably centuries. He reconnects with his teammates, he begins to regain his faith in humanity and the universe, and he opens his spark again to love. By the end of the movie, Cade became the person that Megatron and Sentinel had failed to be, someone who is actually similar to Optimus’ other close friend Elita One. 

Soon, The Last Knight arrived and things got worse for him. Subjected to brutal torture at the hands of Quintessa, who tried to force him to love her as a mother, he reached the breaking point of his sanity. An empty shell of his former self, a representation of everything that he went through, the painful reminder how he felt about himself for so long…true, he was rescued by Cade and regained his grip on sanity in order to save the day. However, it means that he’ll have to carry the scars of the single most traumatic moment of his life so far… honestly, say what you want about The Last Knight. However, through this one hidden gem underneath a pile of mediocrity, lies a character that suffered for so long to find the love and happiness he desperately wanted, that suffered for the liberation of his people, that suffered because his lineage ensures that he couldn’t find happiness possibly for a long time…

But an Autobot has no tears, and therefore he suffers so much more.

So, riddle me this, dear TORB Nation: how does the movie portray a genuinely compelling character arc that reveals another side to Optimus Prime?

BLOWING UP SHIT AND BODIES BODIES BODIES ON THE MOTHERFUCKING FLOOR, AMERICA, FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The movies not only twisted such a character arc into simply nothing more than, “Optimus angy,” but it’s genuinely disgusting that his visible mental issues was thrown under the bus because heaven forbid, we have an emotionally complex protagonist. They don’t understand who Optimus Prime is. Optimus Prime is someone who pushes through his sorrows and chooses to remain a kind person in spite of said trauma. However, the movies twisted his character into another angry badass robot, never highlighting his kindness, It only highlighted his sadness. I cannot believe that Imma about make this comparison (mostly because one of these outcomes is arguably better than Bayverse in all ways), but fuck it. I need to say it:

EVEN MOTHERFUCKING TRANSFORMERS PRIME KNEW TO SHOWCASE THIS VULNERABLE SIDE OF OPTIMUS THAN THE BAYVERSE EVER DID.

Like, TFP Optimus is a pretty brick with no personality trait other than Badass Stoic Optimus that plagued the 2010s. Still, still, still, it made sure to highlight his vulnerability in a respectful and careful manner. Said respectful and caring manner is barely there except for hidden bits from time to time due to the lame ass, “Primes don’t party” logic and moments that personally grind my gears, but that’s a story for another day.

Anyways, my point is that Michael Bay would rather focus on style than substance when he’s not busy terrorizing women. Even if you’re an apologist for him, it resulted in the movies being broken for better or for worse. Mostly worst. Because of the movies being broken, it continues to do an even worse job in The Last Knight, as it focuses on the same stupid shit as usual and throws Optimus under the bus as usual. He isn’t given time to breathe, time to fully flesh out his personality and state of mind in a caring and graceful manner. Like…this honestly upsets me just as much as the disgusting elements of the Bayverse as a whole.

This Optimus Prime is someone who was me when I reached my breaking point in the lowest moments of my life. I understood where he was coming from, I understood his pain and anger because of all the heavy shit he went through. For a long time, he has a special place in my heart as I got older because he represents who I was in a time of my life where I was just as vulnerable and broken as him. So, don’t ya’ll (especially those on Twitter) ever fucking say he is a psycho because to me, that shows the ugly side of your personality. He was me, he was a character that came in a point in my life that helped me through difficulties in my life. He is a character that has the most bastardization of any character I adore in fiction, because of the insidious nature of the movies he was in for a decade. 

Bayverse Optimus Prime is more than the “GIVE ME YOUR FACE” guy. He is a character with hidden LAYERS that is done dirty by the Bayverse movies. I will continue to repeat this statement: He is more than, “GIVE ME YOUR FACE.” 

Conclusion: Why Are Y'all Booing Me? I have a third eye.

I have to put up with this “Bayverse Optimus is a psycho” bullshit for YEARS, I deserve to be a feral gremlin DAMMIT. After a long time of seeing one of my favorite iterations of Optimus Prime be reduced as a funny murder guy by the non Tumblr fandom, because of the Bayverse movies bastardizing his character, I have to put my foot down. If y’all can’t see my viewpoint, that’s fine. However, I’ll continue to be a passionate fan of this Optimus Prime and gatekeep him from the fans who demonize my boyo into nothing but a caricature. He is the big titty goddess in this household with so much more going for him. I’ll never stop to be his ace attorney for as long as I live, because he was someone who was me. Someone who opened the doors to introducing me to one of my favorite characters in all of fiction. He was the light in my darkest hour…

Anyways, good night Tri State Area. Pingu.

#transformers #bayverse #val talks #Youtube

[shina913]

The Boyfriend Experience | PJM

The Boyfriend Experience: Jimin

The BFE: Masterlist

Pairing: Escort!Jimin x Virgin.Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: sex!work AU; fluff; smut

Warnings: legal sex work (in this AU); sex for hire; cussing; explicit sexual conversations; alcohol consumption; dirty talk; exhibitionism; clit play; breast/nipple play; heavy petting; oral sex (mutual); protected sex; orgasm denial; stamina!; multiple orgasms; (somewhat) rough sex but with aftercare

Word count: 9,132 words

Summary: 💬 By the time he knocked at the door, I was a bottle of wine deep. I answered sheepishly, gripping onto a nearly empty wine glass. He let me know that it’s everyone’s first time once and that there was no need to be nervous. I didn’t need to do anything I didn’t want to.

A/N: This was supposed to be posted by Jimin's birthday but I couldn't get my shit together and RL got in the way so ...here we are! Anyway, I kept flip-flopping on my ideas re: how to write the reader-insert character here so I hope this characterization works out fine.

A/N2: As in my other fics, I listen to a lot of music while I write. For this one in particular, I had my Miguel playlist going--specifically, the song, "Use Me." It also helped that I watched that Run BTS performance multiple times 🤣

A/N3: Also, I want to thank @internetjunkdrawer for beta'ing this, sending me suggestions, and just being my reliable Jimin consultant 😜 Thank you, @itdoesntmatterwhy as well for allowing me to run a couple ideas by you and making sure that this scenario was plausible and that OC wasn't a caricature or silly stereotype! 😘

‼️IMPORTANT: Although the narration will include Jimin's name, OC/Reader will not address him as so because she booked him under an assumed alias. Weird, I know but--let's just go with it 😉

“Crap!” You gasped after picking up the empty bottle of wine. You only intended to have a couple glasses–maybe three–to calm your nerves. Next thing you knew, you’d downed the whole thing.

Before you grab another one out of your kitchen, your apartment’s buzzer goes off making you jump. Even after drinking a whole bottle of wine, you were still edgy. Could anxiety burn off alcohol? Was that even possible?

You stood and attempted to take a step, but you almost lost your footing on wobbly legs. Welp...that certainly answered your question about the alcohol.

You shook your head, refocusing your vision and smoothed the creases on your dress before walking towards the intercom.

“H-hello?” You spoke nervously into the box.

“Hi, YN. It’s me.”

You were expecting a deep, husky, come-hither voice–like one that was made for phone sex. Instead, he sounded like a completely normal guy…a normal guy whom you were paying to have sex with you.

How did you even get to this point?

A couple years back, at an office holiday party, you had drunkenly confessed to your work-wife that you were a virgin. She was incredulous at first and thought that you were pulling her leg. But you told her, absolutely zero experience with dick.

Since then, she’s made it her mission to get you laid. Secretly trying to fix you up during happy hours or random nights out with her.

Once, you came very close to going all the way. You confessed to your date that you had never had sex before. From that point on, the dynamic turned for the worse. He treated it as a fetish and it ultimately put you off.

Needless to say, you stopped dating for a while. Until your friend asked you what you planned to do for your 30th birthday.

You hadn’t really thought about it since it was months away. You figured a nice dinner with your closest friends would suffice.

Why don’t you try this app?

It all started with a damn app. You thought it was another trash trend that she was trying to get you into. But this wasn’t your run-of-the-mill dating app.

An escort service?

There was no way you were paying anyone to have sex with you. It just sounded…wrong?

Out of curiosity, your friend let you browse through her app. She had recently become a member and was raving about her experience, following her most recent breakup with her boyfriend.

As you scrolled through, you had to admit that these guys were hot and promised discretion. But they came at a premium price.

After a week of thinking it through, you asked your friend to officially send a referral to the company. Days later, you heard back and received your own confirmation to access the app.

You browsed through it, then closed out of it. Browsed. Closed out. You did this several times for the next few weeks. It was almost part of your daily routine. There was one profile in particular that kept calling you back and this whole time, you’d been gathering up the courage to actually book him.

Finally, after a particularly difficult week, you opened the app again. You scrolled down to his profile and tapped on it. Unlike in the past where you’ve repeatedly chickened out after ogling at his photos, you finally click on the date-picker icon and zero-in on one particular day. By some stroke of luck, he was free. You took it as a sign–so you clicked on “book,” and a few minutes later, received a confirmation notice.

Your heart raced at the memory. You had many opportunities to cancel–but you didn’t. And tonight was the night. You release a deep breath, calming yourself down.

“Come on up!” You buzzed him right in.

You round the corner to your kitchen and discard your empty bottle then quickly check yourself in the mirror. You look slightly flushed and your pupils dilated…but it didn’t bother you. It was just the alcohol working itself through your veins.

Seconds later, you hear a knock on the door.

“It’s just a guy…calm down,” you mumble to yourself before grabbing the door handle.

“Hi there,” Jimin said with a small smile.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

The corners of his mouth quirked into a chuckle.

For a supposed casual night in, he was still dressed to impress. He wore a light gray suit and a white button-up without a tie.

Nope–this was no normal guy. The soft crinkle in his eyes that he had when he smiled was in stark contrast to the rest of his look. His hair was brushed to the side and those plush pink lips were like magnets that you were immediately drawn into.

“Will you invite me in?”

You shook your head. “O-of course,” you stammered. “Oh my god. Where are my manners?” You said in a slightly higher-than-normal octave. “Come on in!”

He walks–no–struts in and takes a quick look at your living room before turning back to face you.

“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”

It took you a second to realize that you were the only other person in the room and he was asking if he could kiss you on the cheek!

“Yes,” you answer meekly.

He smiled again, closed in on you and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. You felt a little flutter in your belly and it made you smile.

“You smell nice. What’s that?”

“YSL…Black Opium.” You weren’t sure if it was sensual enough. Although you contemplated getting a Chanel sample or something a bit more spicy-smelling, you ended up going with your everyday perfume. Besides, you couldn’t stand any of those scents anyway.

He hummed. “I can smell the vanilla and coffee notes–sexy.”

You were surprised at his in-depth knowledge of women’s perfumes but your cheeks warmed up at the thought that he found it sexy.

“You can put your stuff over here,” you walked over to your dining area and pointed to one of the chairs.

“Thank you,” he responded politely as he set his bag down.

“Would you like a drink?”

“I’d love one,” he replied.

You smiled and offered him a seat on your couch, urging him to help himself to some food.

“Uh–sorry I didn’t have dinner set up. I figured I’d ask you what you felt like eating rather than making assumptions. I have a charcuterie board, though?”

His eyes drift over to your coffee table where you had refreshments set out. “Wow, that’s nice of you. I’m honestly fine with whatever you like. I’m not picky,” he smiles.

He gestures towards your sofa “After you.” You smile nervously and walk back to the living room, where he follows close behind you.

“Do you prefer red or white?”

“I’ll drink whatever you’re drinking.”

Well…you had just downed a bottle of white before he got here so maybe it would be helpful to retrieve a fresh bottle if you were offering it.

While he settles on your couch, you excuse yourself to go into the kitchen to grab the bottle of white you had chilling in the fridge. After uncorking it, your eyes drift to the plain envelope that you had sitting on your countertop. You presumed it might be rude to have the money in plain sight sitting in the living room.

Cash in-hand, you return to the couch. He sat there with his jacket off, completely relaxed with his legs in a figure-four position, his arm draped across the back cushion.

Reaching for the bottle, he takes it from you and pours two glasses. You mouthed your thanks and proceed to the next order of business.

“Here’s uh–your…” You struggle to find a formal word for it, until you settle on, “Your compensation.” 

He reaches out for the envelope. “You mean, my fee?”

You grimaced. You were paying him for sex but you felt that he deserved some respect. “I just didn’t want to be too blunt about it,” you muttered.

“Nothing blunt about getting paid for a job, YN. And thank you,” he says after accepting the envelope and sets it aside. He reaches to pick up the glasses on the coffee table and hands one to you.

He raises his, inviting you to a toast. “Here’s to a night of fun.” You raise yours and clink it against his. “To a night of fun,” you echo before taking another healthy sip.

“Mm…Is that a vintage?” He comments on the wine, holding up his glass to the light. 

“It is. It was a good year. I have memberships at a couple different wineries. This one in particular is one of my favorites,” you divulged.

A smile ghosted his lips. “Soon to be mine, too.”

He took another sip and you followed with a longer swig.

An awkward silence falls. A few moments later, you shift in your seat and clear your throat to gather your nerves. “So…d-do we just get into it?”

He smiled warmly at you. “Why don’t we talk a bit more? Get comfortable, get to know each other. We don’t need to rush into it.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off too eager or anything,” you chuckle nervously. “It’s just that I’ve never done this before, so I don’t really know how this works.” 

His tone was sincere and reassuring. “That’s alright. And you have me until the next morning, so we can take our time.”

You blew out a sigh of relief after he reminded you of your booking. “Right.”

You could have booked him for just a couple hours, which was about the average time for an experience. But for your particular case, you thought it would take some more time.

“How was your day today?” The question seemed so mundane but it was casual and you could tell that he wanted to make you feel at ease.

“Fine. Good,” you gave him a small smile.

“And what was good about it?” His gaze was so unnerving. The look in his eyes had this odd combination of calm turbulence. It was a look that said, ‘I want to take good care of you…by nailing you to the mattress.’

You fluttered your eyelashes and giggled nervously. “To be honest with you, I spent half the day getting ready because I was really looking forward to tonight,” you finished with a whisper.

“Well, that makes both of us then,” he smiled before taking another sip of wine. “So tell me, what would you like to get out of this experience?”

You inwardly cringe. You had filled out the intake questionnaire and comments section. Wrote out fantasies and things you’d like to try. You didn’t really want to repeat all of that in front of him. “You read my profile, right,” you ask carefully.

“Yes, I did. But I would still like to hear it from you. Maybe you missed a few details or changed your mind since you filled out your profile.”

You thought about tip-toeing around it but Jimin didn’t seem the type to mince words. He looked like somebody who appreciated honesty.

You’d contemplated this date for weeks…maybe even months! It took you a while to actually pull the trigger on this and it was mostly because your birthday was closing in. Another year older, another year of an unremarkable, nonexistent sex life.

You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders sheepishly. “Nope. Nothing’s changed…I just want to have sex,” you say quietly. “Pretty boring, I know.”

“There’s nothing boring about sex…at least, it shouldn’t be,” he interjects.

You mentally kick yourself for that ‘boring’ comment. Why did you book him if you thought it was going to be boring? You could have just gone to a bar and picked someone up or just slept with the mailroom guy at your office. That guy seemed like he could be really discreet, too.

But no…You did not want the mailroom guy. You wanted this experience to be special and memorable. People can think you were shallow for this but at this stage in your life, you wanted someone who not only knew what they were doing but one who was also far better-looking than any average guy at a bar…or a mailroom.

As soon as you came across his profile, he looked like the perfect guy who ticked all of your boxes.

“So…I hope you don’t mind but I’ve made a list. I’m a huge fan of efficiency and I want to be able to make the most of my time with you.”

His eyebrows lifted, his interest piqued. “Oh, nice. I like that.”

“I’m kind of a Type-A, so…” you trail off apologetically.

“I don’t mind,” he says softly.

After he assures you, you picked up your phone off the coffee table and pulled your notes app up on the screen. You peered up at him as he waited in anticipation. 

“Let’s hear it,” he coaxes.

You start to read off your list. “So…oral sex–you go down on me, and then I’ll go down on you. I read on your profile that you’re okay with that. Is that still accurate?”

He smiles and nods politely and urges you to continue rattling off activities you’d like to try during your booking.

“And there’s regular cowgirl and reverse cowgirl…definitely want to see what that’s about,” you muttered. “I also want to try doggy-style if…that’s what they still call it?”

“Last I checked, that still applied,” he smiled.

“Okay, great! And uhm…I also want to try standing sex? I’m a bit of a yoga enthusiast and I heard that’s sort of a must-try position?”

He grinned and nodded in affirmation. “That all sounds very achievable.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay! I was afraid that I didn’t book enough time for this.”

His eyes widened. He was perplexed but he didn't make it obvious to you. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Y-you mean you want to get through all of that…tonight?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer matter-of-factly. “I thought that we might as well knock out as much as we can because let’s face it, you’re a little expensive and I’m not sure if I would like to book another session,” you clarify.

While the overnight rate was cheaper than the hourly rate, what you were paying him still wasn't considered chunk change. You wanted to make the most of your experience and get your money’s worth.

He shifted in his seat. “I understand,” he says with a warm smile. “And we can try all of that but I want to make sure that you’re fully satisfied, not because you’re crossing out a to-do list.”

You sighed. “I just wanted to try a variety of things other than ‘missionary.’”

“There’s nothing wrong with ‘missionary’. If you take your time with foreplay and your partner knows how to position you properly to hit the right spots. You can get some good orgasms out of it.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Oh…” You responded in a slightly higher octave. 

“I can show you how good ‘missionary’ could be,” he said with a slight twitch of his brow.

“O-okay,” you stuttered with a voice unrecognizable as your own. “That’s…uh, okay. I can add that to the list,” you say shakily.

Silence falls between you two as you exchange tense gazes. He took another sip of his drink and you watched as his tongue licked off some errant droplets of wine that were on his lower lip.

“Was there more?” He queried with a soft smile.

You blinked furiously as the wine started to settle into your veins, making you speak before you thought about it. “I’m sorry, I was just a little distracted–you’re…really, really good-looking. And I-I just…I didn’t expect–” You halt your babbling. “Sorry. I’m…I’m…I’m just–”

“Hey,” he rests his hand on your knee quelling your anxiety, “Stop apologizing. It’s just us here and I get that you’re nervous but you don’t have to be. You can trust me, okay?”

You nodded at his reassurance.

“And thank you for the compliment. I think you’re beautiful,” he added.

You feel a slight flush on your cheeks, muttering your thanks, then exhale sharply to reset your thoughts. “How long have you been doing this kind of work?”

Really, though, what else would you talk to an escort about?

“A while now,” he answers simply.

“And…do you enjoy it?”

“I do, as a matter of fact,” he responded with certainty. “I find it rewarding. A mutual fulfillment of pleasure.”

“Really?” You were skeptical. “You get pleasure from all of your clients?”

“Yes,” he answers confidently.

You found that hard to believe. A normal person can’t possibly be attracted to or get off on just anybody… “And you’ve never met anyone whom…you didn’t want to have sex with?”

He chuckled softly. “So far, that hasn’t happened to me.”

“Huh. That’s pretty unbelievable,” you remark before taking a gulp of your wine.

“You’d be surprised. When you have an innate desire to please your partner…” His fingers subtly brush your arm. “It fuels you…and you experience the same high.”

This piqued your curiosity even further. “And exactly how many–”

He shook his head and tutted. “Tonight should be all about us, YN. Just you and me. Nobody else.”

You nodded wordlessly. It was amazing how he had this silent, soft power to him. From the outset, he sure didn’t look like it at first. He seemed like someone you’d go see a chick-flick with at the movie theater, hold hands or share an ice cream sundae afterwards then he’d walk you home and end the night with a kiss on the cheek.

But the longer you sit here with him, you’re finding that he still looked like the type to go see that chick flick with you…except in this scenario, he’d be finger-fucking you in the back row, while you try your best to muffle your orgasmic moans. Then, he’d take you home and end the night by licking ice cream off your naked body.

Your chest heaved as you took in a deep breath at the thought of this man ravishing your body for the rest of the night.

“Are you alright?”

You gulped audibly. “Uh–y-yeah. Yes!” Your voice is shaky but you try not to make it obvious.

Unfortunately, your efforts fail because he still senses it.

He calmly takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table. You swallow hard when he scoots closer to you. His hands came up and pushed through your hair and brushed your cheeks with a gentleness.

Cupping your jaw and tilting your head up slightly, he asks, “May I?”

Ignoring the fluttering of nerves in your belly, you held his gaze. “Yes.”

He took your breath away with a kiss. His tongue traced the seam, then dipped inside, licking and teasing.

He lowered you against the couch’s headrest, your body flushed with his, moaning when he shifted to lie half over you. Your hands slid up and down his back, your leg lifting to hook over his hip. He caught your lower lip between his teeth and stroked the curve with the tip of his tongue, making you sigh.

He groaned in response…the sound was so erotic it made you wetter.

Your back arched as his hand crept beneath the hem of your dress and snaked upwards to squeeze your thigh under the material.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured against your mouth. He kissed his way following your jawline, then buried his face in your neck. “Do you like when I touch you?”

“Mm, yeah…hmm…” You moaned incoherently in response.

He continues to suckle on your neck, he pulls his hands from underneath your dress. It now traveled up your torso, where he gave your breast a gentle squeeze. He felt your nipple harden under your bra.

Things were escalating quicker than you had expected. If you didn’t take hold of your senses, you’d sooner pop your cherry on your couch. It wasn’t what you had envisioned for your ‘perfect night.’

“Hmm…my bedroom is uh, right around back there,” you utter softly.

He lifted his head. “It doesn’t have to be in the bedroom…” He planted a soft kiss on your chin, “…Or on a bed,” then darted his tongue in that notch at the base of your neck.

“So…you mean…h-here?” You squeaked.

“Yeah. Why not?” You hadn’t thought about having sex on the couch. And though it sounded appealing, you’d rather be comfortable.

“Uhm…I think I’d prefer the bed…if that’s okay with you?” You felt weird that you had to ask him about this. You hoped you hadn’t killed the mood.

“Of course, we can do that. Remember, it’s not about what I want. This night is all about you and I want you to fully enjoy yourself. So if it’s the bed you want, then…” He trails off and holds his hand out to you. You take it and you both walk towards the bedroom.

You weren’t exactly sure whether it was the alcohol, your nerves…him? All of the above? Either way, the path to your room felt much longer than it usually did.

Once in there, he sits you on the mattress and remains standing in front of you.

He slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt. You watched him carefully, his mouth was lax, his eyes hooded. Anticipation has your stomach churning and your thighs clenching shut. 

With his final button unfastened, he closes in with his shirt draped open. You suddenly have the urge to run your tongue down his center.

As if reading your mind, he coaxes you. “Go ahead.”

With his permission you reach up and run your finger down his chest. While he looks down to follow your trail, he nudges his way between your thighs. You look up at his face and see his lips quirk at the edges and his eyes sparkle, the slight crinkling in the corners softening the moment’s intensity. 

He dips his head down. As your lips brush, only very lightly, your body giving way as he crawls over you. Your hands fly up to his hair making him growl his approval as he moves his hands to the base on your spine and urges your body closer to him.

His tongue licks into your mouth and your heartbeat spikes. His hands drift down your body, gripping your thighs, his hands sliding upward beneath the edges of your dress until his fingertips find the lace of your panties, making you gasp.

“Uh…w-wait.”

He immediately stops. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no,” you respond quickly.  “I…” you exhale sharply. “I’m sorry, I’m just really nervous. I’m in my head about it.”

He brushed your cheek gently. “Listen, if you’re not ready–”

“No, I am, it’s just…ugh,” you shut your eyes and groaned.

At this point, he rolls off you and sits up while you remain lying down, hiding your face in your hands. 

“Hey, come on. Talk to me,” he urges softly. “What are you feeling or thinking?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time.”

His eye brow creases in confusion. “Wasted my time?” he echoed. “H-how?”

You uncover your face and find the strength to sit up and meet his eyes. The beauty of this agreement was that you can terminate the experience at any point. Their business guaranteed satisfaction. And although you knew in your mind that he would no doubt satisfy you, you weren’t sure if you’d exactly satisfy him.

“I mean, you can definitely keep the money. I know that we had a deal and–”

“Is that what you really want? To terminate?”

“W-well…” you sighed with hesitation.

“Aren’t you attracted to me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I’m very attracted to you. You’re perfect!”

“Then why?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “I just…felt like doing something crazy,” you mumble.

“And do you do crazy things often?”

You shook your head vehemently. “Oh no, no. Very rarely.”

“So you consider yourself to be rational most of the time?”

You nodded softly.

“You said it yourself, you’re a Type-A so…this means that you thought about this very carefully. This wasn’t a decision that you took lightly. How long did you consider this before you decided to book me?”

You let out a sharp breath. “I don’t know…weeks? Maybe even months after I gained access to the app.”

He regards you intently. “Okay so…that means that you weren’t doing this on a whim. You thought about this carefully and decided that you want this. But…now that you have me, why won’t you take me?”

You shook your head. “It’s not you. It’s…” You let out a sigh of frustration. “I don’t know why this wouldn’t just come naturally to me. I’m a grown woman, not a teenager…this is just embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about being a virgin.”

That was something you’d never added to any of your dating profiles in other apps but somehow, the promise of discretion and professionalism gave you a sense of security to divulge this on your Boyfriend Experience app.

You groan in frustration. “It’s just sex! I don’t know why I’m so torn up about this.”

“If it’s just sex that you want, why go through with this? Why hire me? You’re a beautiful woman and I’m sure at some point, someone’s propositioned you?”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “But…I guess…maybe this whole time, I’ve been searching for something specific. And I think, to make that happen, I probably have to pay for it.”

“Alright, well…you have me right here.”

“Exactly why are you still here? I just offered to pay you for the entire night for practically doing nothing.”

“I’m here because I find you interesting.”

“Interesting?” You chuckle incredulously. “Right…an almost 30-year old virgin is interesting.”

He shook his head softly. “I see that you’re conflicted about this. And to me, that’s interesting. I want to know why you feel this way.”

“Is this the first time you’ve ever met a woman who can’t make up her mind?”

“I’ve met women who can’t decide what entrée to order at a restaurant or what shoes would match their dress perfectly. But if at the end of the night, we end up in a bedroom together? They know what they want at that point.”

You hug your knees to your chest. “Honestly, I never really thought about it much until I realized that my 30th birthday was coming up. I don’t know about you but sometimes, a milestone like that puts things into perspective.”

“Because everyone else in the world has got such an exciting sexual roster?” He asks wryly.

You laughed. “No, it’s not that. I put off sex not because nobody ever caught my interest. It’s just that I’ve heard so many stories from my girlfriends and even a couple of my guy friends where they talk about their first times. Some of them have fond memories of it. Like, how special and romantic it was. And then you get stories of the ones who hated it because either they felt pressured, their partner blew their load too early, or that neither of them had any clue about what the hell they were doing.”

“That pretty much sounds like how most people’s first times are,” He chuckled. 

“But that’s just it, right? Why can’t mine be an experience that was completely enjoyable, memorable, and pleasurable? Is that an unrealistic expectation?”

“I think, if anything, that sounds very realistic and practical of you,” he says without a trace of judgment in his voice.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too idealistic? Or delusional?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I feel like everyone has some idealistic vision of how their first time would go. Doesn’t matter if you’re 16 or 36. You want to have good memories about it. You just want everything to go well.”

He wasn’t lying. It’s what you hoped your first time would be like. None of these awkward memories from when you were a teen or whenever your friends had lost their virginity.

Then he inhaled sharply. “I will say that most of us romanticize it too much. Like, the lighting has to be right with some music playing; or that you have to be in love with that person first and when you’re done, you cuddle until the sun comes up and then you’re going to be together forever.”

You laughed because when he came through your door, you had music playing, some candles, wine…You weren’t in love with him but you at least wanted to get the mood right for this moment.

“I’m not trying to be cynical or make fun of people who dream of that. Now that I’m,” he cleared his throat, “A bit more seasoned in that area. I think that as long as you feel some connection with that person and you’re doing it on your own terms, that’s what matters.”

“And you’re able to form a connection with all of your clients?”

“Of course.”

“Because you have to?” You thought you were finishing a sentence for him.

He exhaled quietly and smiled. “In my line of work, it’s all about choices. It’s what you choose to do. And whatever that choice is, you have to be in it, 100% because otherwise, what’s the point?”

“But you have off-days, I’m sure? Like, you wake up feeling like shit, not wanting to be this walking, talking fantasy for someone?”

He chuckled softly. “Who doesn’t have days like that? I’m still human. If I feel the need to take a break, I do. I turn the app off and then nobody can book me on those days. I can’t take care of my clients if I don’t take care of myself first.”

He then adds, “Also, we don’t want to make anybody feel as if they’re obliged to do anything…and in turn, clients can’t and don’t force us to do anything we don’t want to either. This is why we have these conversations, to have that fail-safe.”

“Hm,” you smirked. “That makes sense.”

You hesitate to ask and don’t want him to feel as if he’d wasted his time completely. “Would it be okay if we talked some more?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly.

“I’ll get the wine then,” you remarked.

“Good idea.”

******

“What do you do when you’re not, you know, working as an escort? Do you have a day job?”

He leaned back against where his head rested–which was on your thighs, while you laid, curled up on your side, your elbow supporting your head. You didn’t mind the position. You were both completely comfortable.

In keeping with the spirit of comfort, you change out of your dress and into an oversized sleep-shirt over your carefully selected lingerie. You figured, in case things escalated again, you’d be prepared. He kept his shirt off–you weren’t exactly sure if he meant it as a way to entice you–which, let’s face it, you were practically drooling. But so far, he hasn’t made a move to pick up where you left off.

He sighed. “I used to have one, during my first couple years doing this. And then ultimately, it became too hard to keep up with all of these different schedules so I quit that and never looked back.”

You couldn’t imagine how challenging it would be for him to meet with clients and try to make it to a nine-to-five. And you figured that with what you were paying him, he certainly can afford it.

“Do you go out when you’re not working?”

“Nah, I’m sort of a recluse,” he laughed.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. “No way!”

“I am. It may not seem like it but sometimes I just like chilling at home. I don’t sleep much when I’m working so I try to catch up on that when I’m off.”

“You don’t sleep much because…your clients keep you up?”

His eyes were tickled with amusement. “Not all the time,” he says. “I often have trouble sleeping when I’m working.”

“What do you do when you can’t sleep?” You wondered with curiosity.

“I work out or…watch TV late at night.”

“How much interesting TV could be on at like, 3 in the morning?”

He chuckled. “Oh, you’d be surprised! I’ve developed a habit of watching people dig for gold in this random hole where they find the most random shit except actual gold,” he jested.

You laughed out loud.

“Seriously! They find random doorknobs from, like, the 17th century. Which, by the way, they actually hired and paid an expert to test and confirm the age. And I’m like–who the fuck cares about a rusty old doorknob? Where’s the gold? Seriously, it’s been over five years of this and at no point does anyone think, hmm…maybe there is no gold after all,” he ranted very passionately.

At this point, your elbow gives way while you collapse in giggles. 

******

You ended up ordering food to be delivered at your place. He put his shirt back on but left it unbuttoned. It was difficult not to get distracted by his tattoos or his chest, in general but you tried to keep your focus on the conversation.

For the next couple of hours, over takeout containers, you continued talking about the most random things, sharing appetizers and eating off each other’s plates. You laughed and made jokes as if you’d known each other for years. He was a great conversationalist and for the first time since he walked through your door, your nerves had settled.

He looked more relaxed as well and it wasn’t just because of the alcohol. It must be difficult being in his shoes. Trying to keep up your interest in someone’s rambling stories about their life and all the while trying to seduce you into bed.

Now, he didn’t look like somebody intent on seducing you. He just looked like a normal guy. A normal guy whom you enjoyed having a conversation with.

After you put away your leftovers, you move back into the bedroom, and the conversation takes a slightly different turn. 

“Seriously though, why haven’t you had sex with anyone? I’m sure there’s no shortage of horny guys out there. Is it a purity thing?”

You laughed heartily. “God, no! No, no…” You shook your head in between giggles.

“And you’ve never had any experience with sex at all? No kissing, touching…what about masturbation?”

“Oh, pfftt,” you blew out a raspberry. “I said I was a virgin, not an innocent! I’ve dated before and it’s gone as far as heavy petting? But no legitimate penetration, so to speak.” 

He laughed and nodded at that. “Okay.”

“I’ll also have you know that I’ve invested in a very nice vibrator, since I’m a big girl and I can afford it now,” you both laughed. “And we have a really great relationship. In the end, we both know which of us feels used.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Ahh, so you’ve had an orgasm then?”

“Yes, I have,” you say simply. “Just…not with anybody.”

“I hope we can still rectify that tonight.”

His eyes glistened when they gazed at you. Though, not the same way they did when you both sat on the couch. There was a sincerity to that look–a sincere desire to give you what you need. A desire to please you.

A calm washes over you and you decide to try something.

“Could you please do me a favor?”

“Sure. Since you asked so nicely and if it’s in my power, I’ll do it.”

You hesitate for a beat. You figured he’d make up something on the spot but you needed a little boost of confidence. “Can you tell me…if…if you find me attractive?”

At this point, he sits up on the bed and moves closer to you.

Cupping your cheek, he runs his thumb gently across your lips. “You know, the moment you opened the door, the first thing I noticed was your mouth. When you talk, I just could not take my eyes off it.”

You feel a warm flutter within your chest. Afterwards, his lithe fingers drift lower to your neck, his fingers brushing over a specific spot. “I also noticed your freckle here. When you swallow, it draws my attention to this vein on your throat.” You swallow reflexively, earning you a small smile from him.

“And this here,” his thumb grazed the notch at the base of your neck, right between your clavicle. “Mm…I think it’s just sooo sexy,” he purred.

A shiver ran down your spine, making your breath hitch. You blink slowly, trying to stop your eyes from reflexively rolling to the back of your head. 

His hand traveled back up to your face, his finger brushing your ear. He was so close to you that you could hear his ragged breathing. He was as aroused as you were, his cock tenting under the sheets.

“So, to answer your question: yes, I find you very attractive,” he rasped slowly..

With that, you let out a small whine and practically attack his mouth. The sudden onslaught doesn’t seem to take him by surprise as if he had fully expected you to play into his trap. And you didn’t mind it one bit.

You sighed and he took advantage of the opening, dipping his tongue inside. His kiss was confident, skilled, and just the right amount of aggressive.

Pulling back to cradle your jaw, he looked into your eyes. He rubbed the tip of his nose against you, his hands sliding along your bare arms.

“Are you sure about this now?”

“Yes. Absolutely, yes,” you breathed out.

Jimin’s hands slid back up your shoulders and onto your throat, leaving a white-hot trail across your skin. Cradling your head, he tilts it back and seals his mouth over yours again.

He settled over you, his chest hot to the touch. He helps you push his shirt off him, dropping it to the floor. His ardent mouth moved down your throat, his hands pushing your bra up to palm your breasts through the sleep-shirt you put on since taking your dress off hours ago.

You lift off the mattress, struggling to rid yourself of your shirt, which he helps you with. Then, you reach back and unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side.

In an instant, he was back on you, lips wrapping around your nipple and suckling, his weight supported by one forearm on the mattress, his other hand pushing between your legs.

He cupped your clothed heat, his fingertip gliding over the material, grazing the seam of your cleft. His tongue flicked over your nipple, then sank his teeth into the hardened tip.

His hair tickled your skin as his open mouth slid over your cleavage, his chest expanding as he breathed you in, nuzzling and wallowing in your scent. He captured the tip of your other breast with hard, deep suction. The pleasure shot through you, your walls clenching in reflex.

He moved down your torso, licking and peppering kisses across your stomach. Once he gets past your waist, his shoulders force your legs wider until you feel his hot breath over your cleft. His nose pressed against the wet material, stroking you. He inhaled with a groan.

“You smell intoxicating.”

Jimin fiddled with your panties’ waistband, peering up at you for approval. You lifted your hips and gave a small wriggle. That was all he needed to pull the constricting material off. It was soaked through anyway.

“Did you wax?”

The question takes you by surprise. “Y-yeah. Why?”

“When? Today?”

This is a really odd time to ask about personal hygiene. You blinked a few times, “Uhm…like, three days ago?”

“Hm, good.”

“Okay, but what does waxing have–”

“Because, if it’s only been less than 24 hours, I can’t do this,” He held you open with his thumbs, and dragged his tongue over your clit. Your back arched with a cry, all your senses out the window. Tilting his head, he thrust his tongue into your opening, teasing and fucking it rhythmically.

”Is that good?” He paused to check on you.

“Ohh….ffffuckk…yes, it’s good,” You writhed with pleasure, your core clenching and releasing.

He smiled mischievously. “Alright, guess I’ll continue then.”

His lips were around your clit, sucking, tonguing it. He was eating you with an intensity that you were helpless against. The flesh between your legs was so swollen and sensitive, so vulnerable to his expert mouth.

When you feel yourself tipping close to the edge, you wrench yourself away from his hold.

“Wait, wait–n-not yet,” you breathed out.

He pauses his oral assault on you. “Were you close?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to cum just yet.”

He chuckled in confusion. “Oh-kay…” he dragged out.

You sat up and captured his mouth. You taste traces of you on his lips–it was incredibly arousing.

“I want you,” you moaned.

He gasps as you unfastened his pants, reached inside his boxer briefs and wrapped your hands around him. But he obliges, deepening your kiss further.

You shifted positions, until he was leaning against your headboard. You moved lower, sank to your knees, pulling his pants low enough to give you the access you needed.

He exhaled harshly. “YN, are you sure—”

You cut him off when your lips wrapped around the tip. He reached back, the whites of his knuckles showing how hard he gripped the lip of your headboard.

You held him in your hand and mouthed the plush head, sucking gently. The softness of his skin and his scent made you moan. You felt the vibration ripple through his entire body and heard a rough sound rumble in his chest.

You peered up at him and he touched your cheek. “Lick it.”

Aroused by the command, you fluttered your tongue across the underside and moaned with delight when he oozed with pre-cum. Fisting with one hand, you hollow your cheeks and draw rhythmically.

“Hmm…fuck yes…just like that.”

The erotic sounds he made and the way he slowly bucked his hips into your throat spurred you on. You were so turned on by his pleasure. His hands pushed into your hair, pulling and tugging at the roots, the twinge of pain making you greedier.

Your head bobbed as you pleasured him, his veins pulsing through the length of his cock. You released him with a pop. Tilting your head to the side, you slid the flat of your tongue up his length.

You were in complete awe of him as you watched his head fall back, fighting for breath.

You rested your hands on his hips, frantically working your lips and tongue, desperate for his climax. His balls were tightening, you cupped and tugged on them gently, making him gasp in pleasure.

“Ah, YN…stop.” His voice was a guttural rasp.

“Stop.” He dislodges your jaw from him, pulling you up to his level and gives you a swift kiss. “As much as I really, really want to keep fucking your mouth, I think we should take care of you first.”

You roll off him and he gets up off the bed. He reaches into his back pocket and produces a foil packet before pulling his pants and boxers off. You watch intently as he rolls the condom down his length.

You swallow roughly when he swiftly tugs at your ankles and positions your bottom at the edge of the bed.

“Just so we’re clear, you need to tell me at any point if you feel discomfort or there’s anything that you don’t like. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you respond firmly.

His fingers parted your folds and rubbed your clit in slow circles, making you moan. Finding that you were still soaked for him, he leans in, hooking your legs to his waist and lined himself up to your center.

“Try to relax, okay?” You nod.

“Ready?” he asks urgently. You nod again, because speech has evaded you at this point. 

He rips his hand from between your thighs and in one calculated movement, he moves his hands to your bottom and lifts you. Slowly, carefully, he pushed in, making you tense up instinctively.

Ow! Fucking hell!

This was not a vibrator or some other fake dick you’ve been used to. It was the real thing. The sensation was…different. 

Sweat misted his brow. “YN?” he pants. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

You inhale sharply. “Just…two seconds. I just need a few seconds.” You slowed your breathing, wrapping your legs around him tighter, adjusting to the mixture of pleasure and pain. You know he’s not even all of the way in. 

Your hands slip over his sweat drenched back as he holds still for a few moments, giving you time to adapt to the feeling. 

“Okay, keep going,” you assure him. He pants as he slowly withdraws from you, re-entering on a deliberate, steady thrust. This time he’s a little deeper and the fullness is making your head spin.

“Can you take more?” he asks urgently.

More? How much more is there?

You took some calming breaths. When you felt like you had a handle on it, you kiss him slowly, arching your back and pushing your breasts up to his chest. You thrust yourself upward, deepening the connection.

“YN, tell me you’re ready.” he breathes. 

“Yes, I’m ready.”

With your prompt, he extracts himself and drives back inside of you. You sigh, tilting your hips forward in acceptance as he moans in appreciation and repeats his swift thrusts, again and again.

The soreness from the stretch slowly fades with his steady rhythm. Before you knew it, you were bucking your hips against him greedily, but in sync with his movements.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathes on a deep plunge. Your head lolls back against the mattress, lost in the pleasure of it all.

In one swift move, he pulls back and pounds into you. You cry out but not from the hurt. You’ve taken him to the hilt and loving every bit of it. You reach up behind him and grip his shoulders as he increases his thrusts, slamming into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive cluster of nerves in you. You yelp in pleasure when he finds your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth.

Slowly, you feel that familiar buildup of pressure within while he ate you out minutes ago. But right when you feel like you’re about to fall apart, he pauses his assault and pulls out of you.

The feeling of emptiness has left you confused and somewhat hazy. Distantly, you hear him grab a hold of your hand to pull you up off the mattress. 

“C’mere,” he beckons you off the bed–which, you weren’t even sure how you managed to support your own weight since your legs felt like jello.

He motions for you to stand in front of the wall.

“Keep your hands there,” he says, propping your hands up. You do as he says and he rewards you by planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. He positions himself behind you, gently urging your legs apart while his hands roam your front. He massages your breasts in his hands, making you gasp when he pinches and pulls on your overly sensitized nipples.

One of his hands slides down your torso and abdomen until it settles between your thighs. His fingers parted your lips, feeling around for your clit.

“Oh my god,” you choked out once he hit the target, making you lean your head back against him.

“Good?” His warm breath tickled the shell of your ear while he nipped at it.

“Hmm...yes,” you drawled while his fingers rubbed and circled your flesh. You couldn’t help but reach your hand back towards his nape to pull him closer to you. If he worked in a couple more circles around your clit, you swear, you could have exploded right then.

“Tell me what you want, YN,” he whispered in your ear.

“You…please,” you whined, grinding your groin to his touch.

“I’m here,” he answers. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you back in, please,” you begged pathetically before that delicious pressure in you deflates.

Lowering your hands from the wall, he adjusts your position while you jut your bottom out for him, pushing your back down slightly. His hands steadied you as he pulled your hips closer to him, opening yourself up so he could slide back in.

A low, broken cry escaped your mouth as he adjusted you at the right angle, taking your breath away when you felt him slide in deeper. The stretching was even more intense this way. It was unbearably arousing. If he ever allows you to cum tonight, you feel as if you’d shatter into a million pieces and never recover.

Your core trembled, clenching desperately around him. He made a rough sound, pulling out just a little before sliding back slowly. The tip of his cock massaged the bundle of nerves deep inside you that no premium-priced vibrator would ever reach.

Palms slipping and sliding restlessly against the walls, you moaned gutturally, repeatedly.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he said urgently. “Let me hear how much you like it.”

“Oh, fucckkkk…” Your legs shook violently on a particularly deep, measured stroke, your weight supported only by the wall and his hold on you.

You could do nothing but take what Jimin gave you, the rhythmic push and pull, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room–it was an incredibly dizzying environment.

One of his hands left your hip, and cupped your cheek, turning your face slightly back towards him, seizing your mouth and groaning into it while continuing to pound into you.

Everything in you goes rigid as that same all-too-familiar feeling threatens to spill out of you. 

Your breaths become more constricted. “Come on, baby. I know you’re close…” he said gruffly, sliding his other hand down to your center to tease your pulsing clit.

Finally, it became too much. You came with a breathless cry, shaking violently, your hands squeaking over the wall as your sweaty palms slipped. He keeps his firm hold on you and plunged deeper and harder, his fingers still on your clit, driving you insane. One orgasm rolled into another, your cunt rippling around his relentless thrusts.

You held onto him, trembling, tears pooling in your eyes. Raw moans spilled from him, making you so hot and slick that your body offered no resistance and instead welcomed his desperate need for his own climax.

His mouth twisted in a grimace of agonized bliss, his eyes losing their focus as his orgasm built. 

He came with a deep, hoarse growl, spurting so hard into the condom, you felt it. His whole body jerked hard, then shuddered. Over and over, heating you from the inside with thick washes.

He collapsed against you, his lungs heaving for breath.

******

“Are you okay?”

He laughed in response as he stood by your bathroom’s doorway. “You’re asking me? Shouldn’t I be asking you?”

“I’m good. Sore but otherwise, good,” you say calmly.

There it was again, that soft crinkle in his eye when he smiled. As if he didn’t just fuck you senselessly moments ago.

You pull the sheets back from the bed, where you sat and patted the empty space next to you, inviting him to get in.

“Are you sure?” He asked with a hint of hesitation. “I told you, I’m fine sleeping on the couch.” He was in a pair of sweats now and not much else.

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Now c’mon, get in.”

With your permission, he slid under the sheets and made himself comfortable next to you.

“Do you feel any different?”

You paused and thought carefully before you answered him. “You know what? I don’t,” you laughed. “I thought that some proverbial curtain would lift and things would look or feel differently but…no. I feel the same.”

He hummed noncommittally. “Hm…okay.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a testament to what we just did. And…that was pretty mind-blowingly euphoric back there.”

He laughed heartily. “Aw, c’mon, YN! Don’t fuck with me.”

“Well…too late for that now,” you countered wryly.

He doubles over as he’s in absolute stitches, making you laugh as much.

“I swear, I had to pick pieces of my brain off the floor. Is that normal for you?”

He sighed heavily after calming down. “I mean…” he shrugged. “You’re giving me too much credit.” Then his expression turns accusatory, “You told me you hadn’t done any sort of sexual activity with anyone. So, where’d you learn to suck dick like that?”

“Porn.” You say flatly.

He threw his head back in laughter. “Seriously?”

You scoffed. “What did I tell you? I’m a virgin, not an innocent.” Not gonna lie, you did do a bit of ‘research’ before tonight. True to your Type-A personality, you needed to know what you were getting yourself into. Unfortunately, you had to use an incognito browser and painfully to wade through dozens of pop-ups of erections and weird-ass shit before finding the more helpful videos.

“Well, shit,” he blew out a puff of air.

After a few beats of silence, he turns to you again. “Look, I know you had a list–”

You giggled. “Ugh, that seems so embarrassing now.”

“Hey, it’s not embarrassing to have goals.”

“Don’t patronize me,” you teased.

“I’m not patronizing you. Just saying, at least you have a good idea of what you want.”

“I guess, yeah.” You relented.

You glance at your phone’s clock then stare back at the ceiling. You had no idea how other partners would compare to him. Did you even want other partners? This would be a very expensive venture if you decide to keep this up with him.

Moments later, as you start to feel the fatigue settle in, you feel him brush your bare arm. You thought it was probably his insomnia keeping him up. “You know, we still have a few hours before our time is up.”

You turn to him, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You have the energy to do that again?”

He shrugged. “I brought a few condoms, and…I’d really love to see that ass bounce again. Maybe with a reverse cowgirl?" As soon as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip, you knew you were done for.

You were happy to indulge in Jimin a bit more. He ticked all of the boxes that you had on your list and even added a few more that had your mind melting from multiple orgasms by the end of your experience.

It was the perfect way to ring in your 30th birthday.

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @deepseavibez

#bts fanfiction #jimin #jimin x you #jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #park jimin #jimin smut #bts smut #bts park jimin #bts jimin #pjm smut #TheBFE x pjm

[t4tdreamer]

My mom got me some knockoff Pokémon figures for Easter! They’re so funny! Imma post my faves (CW contains what may be considered a caricature):

1) Zorua! My poor baby there’s no fixing this

2) Poliwag! So goofy

3) Jynx! Who’s decision was it to colour in just the chest and controversial original blackface colour? (NOTE: blackface is by no means funny. What I’m laughing at is the obliviousness of this decision)

4) Cacnea! They put its face on upside down

5) Sylveon! No idea what went wrong here

Unfortunately that’s all that the tumblr app will allow me to post at once, I’ll continue in the reblogs shortly!

#pokémon #Pokémon bootlegs #Pokémon figures #Pokémon toys #sylveon #poliwag #jynx #cacnea #zorua #Pokémon funny

[shrekgogurt]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on you WIP(s)

Thanks for the tags @theearlgreymage and @wellbelesbian !!!!

🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

For the sake of this endeavor I’m gonna focus on I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man which is also more affectionately referred to as IKABIKAM, eyecab eyecam, 👁️🚕👁️📸, etc.

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Natasha as like a vaguely Margaret Thatcher figure but she was in office in the late 90s not the 80s don’t think about it too hard okay the exact policy/praxis doesn’t matter so much as the ideology/vibes/dynamic + Davy (The Mage) as like a fucked up Welsh caricature (of his own design) because he’s overcompensating and has the media literacy of the worst film bro you’ve ever had the misfortune of talking to = their sons falling in love through football/soccer against all odds as juxtaposed between childhood and adulthood.

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Trauma

🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

Solsbury Hill for obvious reasons

⚠️Which wip you’re most likely to finish or update next?

This one :-)

💾What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Okay, I’m usually absolute ass at naming files in any helpful fashion but this project is so organized on Google Docs. My notes app is a different story. Those don’t even have titles. I just launch into my whims as they come.

Most interesting answer I can give is that the folder containing all my fic documents is titled “kill the part that cringes.”

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

Listen, I warned y’all.

To be in love with Simon Snow—a life sentence, an encyclopedia of grief.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

In the original musings of IKABIKAM—titled Scarborough Fair as the club was gonna be in Scarborough—Simon was Irish rather than Welsh and raised by Ruth. I know. Wild to think about now. But it’s true. And then I did some excavating on canon and the story we have today was born. Lost to time (the original idea of this fic which was actually two fics) is a whole very fun scene. I had planned that after the international break match against other, Simon convinced Baz to go out on the town with him. I wrote this snippet back then. It didn’t make the cut for obvious reasons and honestly I don’t know how much I stand by the characterization. Or the prose. Everything about IKABIKAM is better to me but this sexy little number deserves the people’s attention. I’m slightly concerned it’s offensive.

They’re playing INDUSTRY BABY in this club right now? I’m not dancing with Simon Snow to a Lil Nas X song. That music video…I’m only a man. I’m also not exactly sober. I will not risk a Snow relapse. Besides, Snow himself just downed the rest of his drink.

He leans toward me to say something. With the combination of his drunkenness and his accent I can barely make out his words, “eye gahta gohbakta da barrr.” (Translation: I’ve got to go back to the bar.) He really doesn’t.

I pluck the glass from his hand, “this last one is on me.”

He goofily smiles. His head is drooping to the side and his eyes are half-lidded. It would be adorable if I wasn’t worried about him falling over. I scan the room. One of the other Irish players is nearby. I hook Snow’s arm in mine (both my hands are full!) and drag him towards his teammate. He stumbles behind me looking completely blissed out.

I tap the other player on his shoulder. Clancy I think? The left winger. “Hey, I’m going to force Snow home so he can avoid a stomach pump. Could you make sure he doesn’t wander off while I close out my tab?”

He nods. I throw Snow at him and maneuver through the crowd up to the bar. It’s packed. I finish my own drink before I can push an opening to order. The bartender nods at me. She looks worn out from the night. I don’t blame her.

“Soda water with lime please.”

“Sure. What’s the name on the tab?”

“Grimm-Pitch. Could you close it?”

She nods and turns on her heel. A minute or so later she returns with the drink and my card. I take them.

“Is there any chance I could close out my mate’s tab too. He’s pissed.” I gesture back at the direction of Snow and Clancy. A circle of women have surrounded them. Honestly, fair.

The bartender gives me a wary eye. “What’s the name?”

“Snow.”

“Snow? Like the footballer Simon Snow over there?” She points at Simon.

I nod. The bartender scoffs, “Sure I’ll give Simon Snow’s card to some random Englishman.”

Random Englishman? Am I really going to have to do you know who I am this woman? I go for a subtle approach and just sort of lift an eyebrow and draw attention to the name on my own card: Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The realization hits her. I was afraid I would have to tie my hair up.

“Oh shit. Fuck you’re Baz Pitch.” She stares at me. I hold out my hand. “Right, the card!” She hands me Snow’s card.

I nod, “Alright. Thanks.”

She shakes her head at me, “No, sorry for the hassle. Have a good night English…defensive midfielder…Baz Pitch.” She says my name with a laugh like she’s awestruck I’m in this Dublin nightclub (fair), “and thanks for the win today!”

I’m beyond tired of hearing that line.

When I return Snow is having the time of his life: posted up surrounded by ladies singing along to Ayyy Ladies. They’re not being subtle in their flirting. (Again, fair. Good for them.) Snow is incredibly respectful despite being off his face. Good lad. He’s still far too drunk to consent to anything so I don’t feel terribly guilty for pulling him away from the grind fest.

When he sees me approach he lights up, “Baz!” His arms fly open. “Took you long enough.”

I hand him his drink. There is a blonde woman dancing on him. She throws her arms around his neck. He knocks back the drink and chugs it in one go. A little water dribbles down his chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. It catches on his bottom lip. He hasn’t looked away from me once. And this fucking song…

“When I hit it from the back, don't fuss, don't fight

When I put it in ya mouth, don't scratch, don't bite”

I need to get the fuck out of here.

He hands me back the glass, “That drink was awful. What was it?” His speech is a little less slurred than before.

“Water. I’m taking you home.”

He blushes, “What?”

“You’re plastered. So, you should get sick in your own loo rather than on this lovely woman,” I give the blonde a wink. She dances away.

I’m pretty sure tabs aren’t even really that much of a thing in Ireland. And like…I don’t think you can close them out for someone else. So like. I don’t know what the fuck I was on while writing that. Obviously not Google.com, or reality. But most of all I was absolutely jump-scared reading that back and discovering I was gonna make Baz a defensive midfielder? WTF!?

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

A hockey one-shot. Whenever it happens the chirps are gonna be out of this world.

🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

One in a way that’s meaningful. Maybe two. It’s a fresh thing.

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

The chapter is really expositional in an isolated way and so I have to backtrack for context without being boring.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Blessed beyond belief.

Now tagging @artsyunderstudy @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @prettygoododds @thewholelemon @valeffelees @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe omg and @emeryhall tell me everything

#ikabikam #bonus content

[whositmcwhatsit]

I’ve only recently become a fan of Elvis. I’m ashamed to admit it but before my opinion of him was based on grotesque caricatures in the media. I didn’t appreciate his insane musical talent, and I definitely didn’t realise what a wonderful kind and humble man he seemed to be. Everyday now I listen to his music. I watch his interviews on YouTube and I try to cram every bit of information I find of him into my brain. Honestly I feel like I have regressed into a starstruck teenager…and I am loving it.

From what I have seen, the Elvis community seems so warm and welcoming; and it is blogs like yours that reaffirms this belief of mine. You just seem so lovely and it’s reassuring to find others who love this flawed but hugely talented and wonderful man who, all these years later, inspire others. I was in a dark place, but finding Elvis’s music has really helped me.

Basically I wanted to say thank you for helping to fuel my obsession with Elvis. I have been devouring your blog, reading it on my way to and from work (even with my phone battery hating the tumblr app) and smiling all the while.

Sorry for the random message, but I felt that I needed to say thank you for creating such a wonderful blog. So thank you!!

Hi! What a truly sweet message! I'm glad you're enjoying my blog, since honestly, I'm mainly just babbling to myself the way I usually just do in my head anyway.

And I love the idea of fuelling your obsession because it was older, OG fans that did the same for me, sharing their pics, records, videos and memorabilia (turning a blind eye when some of it "went missing") and I think one of the most amazing things about Elvis was that he was for the fans and by the fans. We discovered him, we cultivated his career, we kept him successful when, quite honestly, it seemed like the people employed to do that job either had no idea what they were doing or were actively sabotaging him, it's hard to tell! And he knew that. It was a mutual love affair.

It still is.

And, yeah, the caricature stuff is pervasive and so damaging. It began when he was alive and exploded when he died. It's dehumanising in the extreme and I lay a lot of blame at the feet of EPE, but that's a whole other rant!

But yes, from what I've seen the Elvis fandom community on here is lovely, warm and positive, and you're going to fit right in!

What's your favourite Elvis song so far? Feel free to reach out any time!

#elvis presley #elvis fandom #we are like sharks #no evolution necessary #we endure

[norel-ravenclaw]

21st Century Time Travel Headcanons

Fandom: Ikemen Prince (otome game)

Featured characters: All

Genre: Shenanigans and Chaos

Rating: sfw

Word count: 555

Description: These are my thoughts and opinions on what they might do, what are your thoughts?

WARNINGS: | none? | mxw |

Clavis - He walks around writing down all the amazing tech and medicine to research and take back to recreate in Rhodolite. Bicycles? Bicycles. (Also up all night watching prank videos)

Chevalier - SOMEONE TAKE THIS MAN TO A BARNES & NOBLE. The Kindle app is a must.

Nokto, Licht, Gilbert, Clavis, Yves, (and one time) Sariel - Mistaken as cosplayers. Varying responses ensue.

Keith, Sariel, Licht, Yves, Rio, Luke, Chev - Love quiet hours traveling by train in the countryside. Reading, watching you sleep on their shoulder…

Clavis, Gilbert, Jin, Leon, Silvio, Nokto - Enjoy the chaos, energy, and challenge of traveling densely packed cities. It feels like an adventure.

The Bros - modern sports? sports cars? motorcycles? music and dancing? Enthralled.

Licht & Yves - Go to a concert hall and are astounded by the grandeur and new feeling of modern orchestral music (and both cry throughout.)

Gilbert & Chev - Would figure out technology (including Google Scholar) in an hour and spend the rest of the time researching 10000 topics.

Luke - Joins a save the bees rally. He buys everyone t-shirts that he forces them to wear.

Rio and Silvio - Spend half the time watching telenovelas

Yves - Modern recipes and cake/pastry designs would probably be fascinating to him. He cries when you sign him up for a cooking class with a professional baker.

Leon, Jin, Nokto, Clavis, Gilbert, Luke - love rollercoasters

Nice!Keith, Rio, Yves, Licht - hate them

Chev, Sariel, Alter!Keith, Silvio - might be persuaded to go if you wanted to, entirely to watch your reactions (Although Silvio is secretly terrified)

Jin, Silvio, & Sariel - Go to every winery they find. They single-handedly save one small vineyard from going under with a huge purchase and some excellent business advice.

Clavis - From the moment I was introduced to this gremlin, I have been cursed to judge every single meme I come across: Would Clavis like this? Imagine this loser’s glee spamming incomprehensible nonsense to everyone (and airdropping them to strangers to watch their reactions).

Licht, Sariel, & Keith - Have never been so at peace after discovering relaxing instrumental playlists on Spotify.

Jin & Nokto - Discover they love modern music and let you take them to a rave. Life changing.

Chevalier & Sariel - Are far too happy to use the silent mode on their phones. Everyone curses them when there’s emergencies (Clavis purposely got on the wrong train again).

Jin wanders into a martial-arts class. Walks out three hours later beloved by the kids and the teachers.

Rio & Luke - Goes to animal shelters and names all of them. Tries to smuggle out a puppy. Does not succeed. There may be tears.

Silvio - Loves NYC. In a different life he would have been born there.

Clavis - Comes across a street caricature artist and spends a gleeful two hours having them draw everyone from pictures off his phone.

Nokto, Jin, Leon, Silvio - Inflict their ignorant selves on helpless clubs every chance they get. Imagine them trying to learn how to dance???

Gilbert, Silvio, Sariel, Nice!Keith - Love museums. Gilbert asks the employees disturbing and inappropriate questions. Clavis is obsessed with the science museum. Begs to go back several times.

Who would be the best dressed? My guesses? Silvio, Yves, Chev, and Sariel would turn heads for sure.

IMPORTANT ADDITION: Who would love 80’s music the most?

Virtually all of them - Enjoy your efforts and excitement in explaining everything to them as much or even more than they are fascinated by it all themselves.

#time travel headcanons #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri sariel #ikepri keith #ikepri jin #ikepri chevalier #ikepri clavis #ikepri leon #ikepri silvio #ikepri licht #ikepri yves #ikepri Rio #ikepri nokto #ikepri Luke #ikepri gilbert #Sariel noir #jin grandet #keith howell #chevalier michel #clavis lelouch #leon dompteur #yves kloss #licht klein #nokto klein #luke randolph #gilbert von obsidian #silvio ricci #rio ortiz #norel writes

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

We are not even halfway through May and so far the month has given us:

The Kendrick Lamar vs. Drake rap beef, SS specifically the release of “Not Like Us” and everything that has happened in its wake

The absolute fiasco that was Eurovision

A presidential candidate with actual, literal brain worms

Trump rambling about “the late, great Hannibal Lecter” as if he’s a real guy

Joanne Rowling fully embracing bring evil and no longer bothering to hide behind a thin veneer of respectability

SomeOrdinaryGamers releasing a poorly researched documentary about Keffals with a transphobic caricature in the thumbnail, which has gained new fans such as Stonetoss and Graham Linehan

The return of the Mack(lemore)

Instead of going with some massive household name to play Galactus in the FF movie, they cast Ralph Ineson of The Witch, a man whose voice naturally sounds like it belongs to an ancient cosmic entity. Also John Malkovich is in.

Planet of the Apes fever swept Twitter, giving the world a nice monkey-themed break from the usual bigotry of the app

Coming off the Stellsr Blade drama, gamers are now mad over Hades II designs, with open racism over Hestia to transvestigating Aphrodite

Sony and Microsoft’s arms race to make the worst decisions possible

James Somerton returns from the dead, worse than ever before

#mad world ‘24

[blankvort]

you've probably answered something like this but favourite songs from the stage show and i want details, GO‼️

pezberrywhoreee i cannot even begin to describe the dearth of times i have answered anything related to mean girls and the amount of times i have internally cried and screamed wanting to interrupt a conversation to talk about mean girls. i say that god is dead but you are doing his work right here. putting this under a read more because you said details and this became a study of why every song in the stage show is better than opioids and thin mints combined <333 no articulacy here just 8000+ words of vibes and ranting

first of all if cady sings a single line i am violently shoving every note of the song into a mental folder called faves in such eldritch fonts that my brain computer is halfway to summoning cthulhu whenever it loads the soundtrack. she is described as the heart of the story on the backstage casting call page for a reason and that reason is her absolutely incredible range as she struts from the plucky guitar gyrations and membranophone-focused percussion of it roars into the candid, confiding, crescendoing (and other c words you can probably guess based on the verbiage i use in dms) keys of stupid with love and then climb the vocal volcano that is apex predator and akfjskhfidbdihgshejfhiajw i love her and i love her songs and i need to shut up now i’m sorry

second (but not really because i’m still going on and on about cady i’m sorry) i’m upset abt most other productions burying cady’s fourth-wall breaks and kind of making the segue into revenge party less. i don’t know riled up?? because 1) where did my girl janis’s influence go it is so much more impactful when cady’s main reason for going along with the revenge plot and pushing it further is hearing about janis being outed from janis herself! when her main motivator becomes aaron, who she likes super superficially by the time more is better rolls around, you think wow! what a bitch! for even longer! like you don’t even have to cut the “your hair looks sexy pushed back”/”are his eyes gray or green” conversation that prods her into sending gretchen over the edge this isn’t a time issue 2) where did cady’s brain go bring me a whole box of profound regret and impulsive decisions let the people in the back hear the hows and whys of her descent into plastichood and moreover i would like her to sing more and most of all i love it when characters break the fourth wall. by that i mean i want the “sounds kind of bad right to spy on someone but they’re the first friends i’ve had and i don’t want to have none” things back because the narrative nudity and the way it follows the melody of the verses in fearless is a+++

now. my legitimate favorite songs from the stage show in chronological order

a cautionary tale: the repartee the art freaks have is elite and so are their riffs. The lyrics are 3am notes app poetry lines and that’s an amazing thing for mean girls. It’s not the typical broadway opening number but it’s rough and brash and brilliant. To me the cast of mean girls strikes the perfect balance between caricature and lived-in character and the insouciance of this song towards seriousness reflects that wonderfully. Janis assuming the worst of everyone by saying that the temptation to be popular and hot is far too great and saying that you can’t buy integrity at the mall is some nice, if blatant, foreshadowing regarding cady losing her integrity as she gets caught up in the perilous biome of shopping centers with such dangerous patrons as build-dat-bear. The last line of the chorus abruptly changing the amount of beats in the measure adds an extra kick layout fosse quality that i love too. The ending is the apotheosis of mezzo-soprano/tenor harmonization. Need both janis and damian to step on me but for different reasons. No i will not elaborate

it roars: i have a soft spot for wild life but it roars is superior in every way to me because it introduces cady, the show’s sense of humor, the cast’s incredible skill when it comes to singing and dancing (seriously i had never seen an ensemble that made me want to be ensemble before mean girls), and the perfect transition from a cautionary tale will always get me hyped. i have many thoughts about the many changes the mg script and score have gone through throughout the years but oh my god my jaw dropped at the breathtaking belting of “i have danced with the maasai, i have climbed kilimanjaro” when i first heard it mashed up with it roars and the callback the verse gets in fearless 2.0(?) totally dislocated it. Also i know that it’s a pairing so unpopular it’s basically nonexistent but hear me out when i say that it roars is just a more optimistic, afrobeat inspired version of what’s wrong with me. Cady never seems to think that it’s the student body that needs to change, she thinks she needs to fight and win to belong just as gretchen thinks she needs to serve the most powerful person in school to be deserving of… idk anything?? Of course you cannot trust me on this because i will ship cady with anyone if you give me the chance. Writing cady/the marymount girl fanfic as we speak

it roars is the first indicator that musical cady is pretty different from movie cady in that she earnestly wants to go to the us, wants to have more/better friends, wants to try high school and skateboards and rapping and starbucks venti chai. which makes sense because you know you gotta have that sick i want song so characters feel less tossed about and more thrusting into. there’s a better way to word that but i don’t have the skull size to summon a less immature dictionary right now. a curious thing about it roars, though, is that kenya, being a country and all, has high school and skateboards and rapping. no starbucks because apparently rwanda was an easier location to settle into but that’s a good thing actually nobody should support starbucks. either way you can really see that cady’s been sheltered from the realities of any society past the stone age and idolizes this incredibly abstract view of friends and people. she’s equal parts desperate and determined, artless and acute. it’s ironic, i feel that at first her speech patterns (lions and birds and stuff) seem at odds with her sub-saharan surroundings as though she’s already trying to integrate herself with this slangy teenage culture she knows nothing about and then when she finally finds herself in slangy teenage culture she compares everything to the survival-based rules of the savannah. i know this is probably for streamlining purposes but it’s also so interesting to me that her immediate reaction to her parents’ funding being cut is wow adventure wow possibilities. she knows that everybody wants connection but she doesn’t yet know why connection has to be culled by all these arbitrary rules like fashion or acting cool. like i don’t remember where i read this but some novel said that the only thing worse than being smart is being smart and sensitive because then neither the logical nor emotional explanations for any event can make sense. i swear i will find that book someday to take a photo but today i am bedridden because i walked the five or so inches from home to the grocery store

back to it roars. i hate the grammar in the line “none of my closest friends even has hands” but i love everything else about the song. the beat is so bouncy and the ostinati of the wind and brass sections are top tier. the comedic beats are underscored by cutting the music and then the vocals come back in soaring alongside the strongest bass since george perry and i could die happy if hospitals changed the flatline noise to any cady singing “so exhilarating”.

two paragraphs and we’re still going strong dead god help me. personally i feel like the best delivery of the ensemble lines have to be as obnoxious and deafening as humanly possible but i get people who feel differently. it’s just really great to me when cady is polite and confused and very presumptuous and sonja aquino’s actively going through act two of the exorcist in real time. i think that’s why danielle wade is my cady of choice too. love it when autism: the song is put through the epiglottic funnel of anxiety. also i’m wiping tears right now about the fact cady refers to phones as little screens in her first act one song and in the act two opener she’s glued to her phone because she wants attention so badly and still doesn’t feel like she has enough even though she talks about how america and the plastics are so much more than what she’s used to. Also very interesting that cady views inclusion as a game that needs to be won (and eventually comes to view baleful adoration as winning) even though she later exhibits a sort of survival of the fittest mentality that shows up as early as her mention of baboons attacking those that go near their pack. Fun fact i think her takeover of the plastics mirrors dispersal in male baboons wherein mature male baboons leave the pack they were born into to find another troop to temporarily stay in and usually if they end up replacing the alpha male of that non-natal troop they commit infanticide because then he can reproduce with the alpha male’s old mate/s. That’s not super fun but it is a fact to me. but i’ll talk about the strange views musical cady heron seems to hold about winning more in my do this thing essay which i am definitely going to write despite my best efforts to make this post under five thousand words

gonna slide the it roars reprise in here too because it’s not on the soundtrack but it still makes me feel things. “i’m sixteen just like everyone here but not like everyone here” and what if i said mean girls is the best dissection of the torturous dichotomy between being desperate to belong and being desperate to be unique. There’s a thing called theatrical exaggeration but for mental health purposes i choose to believe that north shore class of x immediately clocked cady as a weirdo utterly undeserving of trust or respect when they saw her wear socks and sandals. I know i just complained about people calling every iteration of cady boring but i feel like i haven’t seen actual hate for musical cady (at least not as much slander as i’ve seen sent to og movie and especially movie musical cady) because you can better bear witness to her most vulnerable moments when she’s singing directly at you instead of saying things in a soundproof recording studio. She’s not quitting she’s regrouping! Which is a fascinating choice of words to me because regrouping in math is basically carrying over values because they’re too much. She gets sucked into this idea that more is better even though she has to compartmentalize the information she’s learned from hostile classmates and teachers and draw connections to her experience with animals because more is not better without proper management. Also this bitch is gonna get e coli if the janitors don’t care enough to clean the slut-shaming graffiti on the wall they are not wiping down those cubicle doors

where do you belong: i love gay people. “so what if all the ducklings think you’re ugly it’s because they’ve never seen a swan” is ted talk worthy material. never getting over the fact that damian knew this girl for all of maybe one introductory french class’s worth of interaction, accused her of doing drugs, and then built her confidence back up from the seventh circle of hell. the “your mother called you baby girl?” “singing!” exchange is peak best friend banter and showcases the art freaks’ dynamic of frank, funny jerk with a tarnished heart of gold and budding broadway babe with a shocking amount of wisdom obscured by hilarity and hypocrisy. the debate team rejected damian because he was too fabulous to be deigned to one oregon-oxford role i’ve decided. i love unreliable narrators and damian shooing cady away from the mathletes as soon as she shows the barest interest in them is an entertaining way of showing that nobody in this story is free from social norms. the lunch tray percussion is something all marching bands should adopt and so are the lighting cues. janis’s reactions to damian killing his dance breaks are the best. rachel hamilton is my fave ensemble student i don’t care if she gets maybe two or three lines total.  she was giving bombastic side eyes before anyone knew the word bombastic. i desperately need to know if she knew what cady was actually saying or if she thought cady was just a lion king stan asking to be canceled. damian painting everyone but his two-person clique as problematic is also peak teenage behavior. everything at that age is just finding the lesser of two evils and figuring out whether or not you want to meet the bigger evil anyways. janis deriding “the geeks and the freaks” despite being labeled as an art freak by every mg promo is also amusing and barrett and mary-kate’s deliveries of “christian believers” could send me to heaven any day they want. the ending is so satisfying to listen to and even more satisfying to watch. also i do mean it when i say that cady was adopted by the local gays in this number. are janis and damian aware that having their own table in a school that makes juniors and seniors have lunch at the same time makes them more powerful than all the politicians of the globe combined

stupid with love: ALSKAJLDJASLDAJLLKJ. stupid with love is the best musical representation of how a crush driven by hormones and being treated with the barest sense of humor and dignity can devour a person taylor swift eat your heart out. the music really sweeps you up into this story like you’re a close friend privy to even her most embarrassing thoughts and the way her love life flashing before her eyes just shuts out whatever aaron was going to say about lebron james is the funniest thing because yeah! you can be convinced you’re totally in love with someone when you’re that age while ignoring everything that makes them a well-rounded human being! the way cady’s clearly grown up in a caring household that’s so chock full of trust that her parents can’t fathom that she’d do anything remotely dangerous while having the whole house to herself for more than one hour BUT also feels like she doesn’t “get” love is super interesting to me to like most sixteen-year-olds have the idea that their parents don’t understand them sure but has she come to the conclusion that familial love isn’t enough? that she doesn’t get enough familial love anyways? that love is unknowable? does she wholeheartedly believe that she fell in love at age five? stupid with love is a song of so many possibilities and it’s as giddy and delusional as you’d expect, every emotion heightened by cady’s new brand of eloquence. fetch may never happen but calculust absolutely should. the little snippets of dialogue in between are so endearing on both cady and aaron’s ends to the point where i can forgive ms norbury clearly not knowing how to conduct a class. who’s gonna tell cady to raise her hand before she answers. i’m kidding she can do whatever she wants, even ignore the existence of multiplication. multiplication is a bitch cady i get it

we once again see that cady is determined almost to the point of self-destruction and that she’s desperate to live a ‘normal’ life by getting together with the normalest boy of all time and the song so perfectly sets up why we should care about cady and aaron as a couple–he’s the only person thus far to not even suggest what she should think/do, encouraging her in a teasing way to be herself (ie smart) instead of telling her to be dumber so he can feel better about himself. cadaaron is the only straight ship ever argue with the wall. also the instrumental on its own is literally such a bop?? i’d drop a grand piano on myself daily if the keys could just perpetually play the song. quoth my own blog my heart belongs to every video out there of a cady opting up on the last “i learned math so i can learn love” it just fits so well thematically and makes the song even more satisfying because it makes you think yes!! summon that girlfailure swag and learn love. also this song is so next to me from twihard: a new musical coded with the pencils and/or feet providing the musical pulse. this is me very subtly begging you to listen to twihard: a new musical as put on by the esoteric ensemble productions and uploaded like a full decade ago starring danielle wade 

apex predator: i love women. i love bon jovi. i love zoology. this song was made for me tina fey told me herself. i can even forgive whoever made halls rhyme with dolls because of the regina furry confirmation. the first few chords kind of give me jaws theme vibes. it’s grinding and warning and doused in grit. you get the brightness of cady’s other songs cut with the flinty, darker strings of janis’s numbers. the heavy drum sort of sounds like a heartbeat, quickening as cady realizes the might of the pride and considers how regina’s help compares to janis’s in an almost clinical manner. shout out to erika henningsen’s “exotic pet” obviously. that line should be studied by every ivy league with a literary program because regina and cady considering the other an exotic pet instead of a real friend but still seeking each other’s approval……. maybe the narrative foils are really reflections of my tin foil hat but hear me out. it’s so interesting that they refer to regina as an apex predator because apex predators are animals without natural enemies but almost every single friend or admirer of regina’s exhibits an envious kind of awe when it comes to regina. regina’s so magnetic that you can’t be her enemy but close enough to pseudo-celebrity that you can’t exactly be her friend either. also the harmony at the end combined with the epic percussion deserves its own award. no longer does egot mean anything. One must be an egota (emmy grammy oscar tony apex predator singer) to be considered showbiz royalty

stupid with love (reprise): cady is so so smart and so so stupid. aaron getting confused at a genuine compliment not solely based on his looks is adorable but i also love it when the line delivery gets changed to be more like “wow i already know i’m cool but it’s nice to hear it from the cute possibly murderous girl who sits behind me”. same goes for cady’s “shit” right after aaron swears off dating–it’s funny as hell whether she’s smiling through the pain or so disappointed in herself she looks like she’s experiencing medical shock. her making love into a function is similarly messed up but funny as hell. i literally have a google drive folder full of audio clips of the “i just don’t get it–i’ll never get it–i just don’t get it–somehow…” part it’s so serious

sexy: this is modern feminism talking i expect to run the world in shoes i cannot walk in - the greatest mind of our generation karen smith. if the national emergency alarm was changed to the ending riff i would become an arsonist just to hear it over and over again. a youtube commenter said that she sings every line like she’s waiting to be shown the script and redo it and whenever acting and singing can waltz along in magnificence together i sob in joy even if that waltz is set to trashy pop. literally every costume shown is worthy of fashion week and then some. the sex doctor bit is beyond saturday night live. sexy rosa parks deserves the world. modern feminism is a mess but at least it built the last verse of this incredible song.

someone gets hurt: regina pretending to cry and aaron being confused again and then being manipulated into a makeout session is so so funny. so terrible but so funny. the incredible blare of noise after that first “until someone gets hurt” feels like being pushed off a cliff and into a sea of warning sirens which feels fitting. if any song from the stage show were to be played by a chamber orchestra i would want it to be someone gets hurt because everything about it is almost four seasons by vivaldi to me. as i said do not expect sensible comparisons from this review. it’s really dark and intense like all of regina’s numbers but this time her style of seduction is on full display, highlighted by some heavy timpani work and a male ensemble that’s carrying more than just regina on their backs holy cow. squidward would worship regina with how she made the bass clarinet sultry despite hitting something in the high fs during each “hurt” and holding that “go” for like five seconds. the ending is giving celine dion’s villain arc. it’s also maybe the first time the audience sees aaron through the eyes of anyone other than cady who’s so starstruck she might as well be blind and we see a guy who’s still susceptible to regina’s yknow reginaness. she guilt trips him about his potential infatuation with his body and then gets extremely touchy with him while wearing a playboy bunny costume. she asks if she was a game he wanted to play despite (maybe devoid of remorse) playing him just to get back at cady. she’s making so much shit up because peeling away too many layers of her perfection would be dangerous but so would losing aaron to cady’s actual openness. first she says “fine” to mean that she’ll be fine without aaron in the reverse psychology sense, then they say “fine” to mean that they’re both hot af, then he says “fine” to agree to get back with regina and possibly to convince himself that his interest in cady can and should be pushed aside because being with regina is better for them both. love this song. hate being unable to sing a single note of it.

revenge party: my overall fave song of the obc album, the stage show, and the movie musical. words alone cannot describe the excitement that electrocutes my nerves when i hear “now you know, caddy—” because everything from that line onwards is going to be stuck in my head for at least a week. some people can’t function until their first cup of coffee in the morning, i can’t function until my first listen of revenge party. in slight relation to that gretchen’s squawking will make me spit out any drink; such has been scientifically proven over the course of several years. i actually have a line-by-line analysis of revenge party drafted so i won’t go into detail right now because i need viewer retention but i mean it when i say art freak harmonization is the best kind.

whose house is this: if kevin g has one fan it is me. let the man rap even if half his lyrics don’t make sense. i have heard the big fun from heathers comparisons. i have heard the halloween from be more chill comparisons. all of them are so incorrect i could set several houses ablaze with the rage i feel at the very suggestion that whose house is this isn’t a masterpiece. no joke this is the first song on my workout playlist. the way nobody even cares about cady in this number is hilarious and so is kevin refusing to swear. gretchen deserves all the thank yous and so does the horns section. karen’s actions are just. Absurd as they always should be. the mario kart ass instrumentals during that “turn the freaking music up” segment make me pleasantly stressed. there are traces of jungle techno but little to no traces of cady’s signature sound and the usually lax but articulate and expressive rhyme scheme of her songs switching to frenzied verses full of immaturity and inconsideration makes me feel things that should not be felt while listening to a rave number with flatulent bass.

more is better: the only romantic duet to ever exist if you ask me. the fact that cady switches from the more sincerity-charged love to like most likely because the plastics’ philosophy is to be cool about things makes me want to bite the bars of alcatraz prisons. the way cady’s signature sound only really returns after aaron chooses to leave her because she’s become regina 2.0 without even acknowledging it is the stuff of emotionally resonant legend. as i said in my aaron review post the only thing that bothers me about this number is aaron kissing cady while she’s clearly drunk and he isn’t but cady kind of gets him back after do this thing so. yay equality. aaron’s so tired of being manipulated and told to shut up i feel so bad for him. cady’s so in denial about missing her old home in any capacity and being uncomfortable with the skin she’s tried to grow into for aaron’s sake and i feel so bad for her. the shimmering sound that comes with cady singing “stars” makes me feel better though. 11/10 would be sad again. say no to excessive air conditioning and light pollution

someone gets hurt (reprise): i like it when gays have bad breakups without even dating. what more do you want. but actually i am obsessed with the way this is blocked out because the way the chaos of cady’s house gradates into the dark street where there’s nothing but her and her crumbling friendships. the link between janis and regina is really reinforced by this song and it makes me feel insane.

world burn: the only way regina can redeem herself for wearing a black turtleneck and black pants is by slaying so hard you forget she’s just printing shit and polluting the corridors and she does it in world burn. her having a recurring set of notes to follow until she absolutely loses it is iconic. i learned so much about hernia formation through this song so i think it’s also an educational heritage site. the contrast of her 1984-esque lyrics and beats with lines like “trang pak is a grotsky byotch” is beyond hilarious but in the context of the show it makes my timbers shiver. she is both manipulated and the master manipulator. renee rapp’s opt up for the ending is golden but every regina brings their own flair and intensity to it. something that really interests me is how different actresses interpret the lines “this is what i get for helping / helping someone lame fit in” because to generalize regina either thinks she was actually helping cady or is trying to convince herself/the audience that her primary motivator was controlling cady’s every action before she got too hot to ignore or because she saw her hanging around janis and damian or because regina can’t ask a girl out like a normal person. idk it’s very fun and very satisfying to listen to and ramps up the ante for all antagonistic songs ever!

i’d rather be me: did you mean the feminist anthem of the twenty-first century? i’d rather be me is pure janis in her sort of jumpy, edgy, eleven o’clock exasperated glory tuned to this effusive fusion of pop and rock. the energy this has is soooo good because every girl in school is tired of being treated like shit because of the expectations placed on them by society and the idea that by i’d rather be me the female student body of north shore is so exhausted of the plastics’ bs that they parade janis around despite shunning her for years is amazing. most criticisms of this are abt how wordy it is or how it’s not worded right but hello janis is a teenager her inner and outer monologue is not going to be as mature as fucking grizabella the glamor cat and it can include words that anyone would study for the sats like sycophant. sycophant is not that fancy a word i learned the word sycophant from a star wars fanfiction i read when i was seven how could you not know the word sycophant at age seven squared after making a living out of reviewing shows written by wordsmiths like sondheim. sorry that was mean i’m just tired of people either going “they wouldn’t talk like that they’re teenagers” or “they shouldn’t talk like that they’re part of a theatrical production worth millions of dollars!” lmao

ok so i think that janis was losing herself just as much as cady over the course of the revenge plot taking place because okay she’s ruined regina but she’s barely changed anything about herself and if her plan had worked without hitches wtf was she going to do. was she going to keep hanging out with cady. was she going to fill the power vacuum left by the plastics herself. was she going to run regina over with a bus herself. i’d rather be me is the culmination of the crushing pillars of her revenge plot and the full realization that revenge wasn’t what she wanted–she wanted to change the way the world works, change it into a place where people can just do and be without being ostracized. to me the instrumentals and the mockery in the lyrics are almost stinging?? someone with even could describe this better than me but the strings during the instrumental section between verses remind me of a mosquito bite because they’re high and sharp and put against the heavy drums and cymbal crashes they really paint this picture of a dam of anger breaking and giving way to a new wash of awareness. 

also i cannot stand it when ppl say this song is the show giving endorsement to janis being a hypocrite there is a reason why all the lyrics are in future tense. she is wrapping her mind around the notion that there is no pleasing everyone, that there is no true gratification gained by holding grudges and letting them control your every thought, that if you don’t let yourself have the liberty of lashing out you’re only going to manifest your maliciousness in worse ways with longer-lasting effects. that being said let girls be haters

also the obc album should’ve let janis swear. every public performance of i’d rather be me should let janis swear. let her have a line with bite before her throat turns into a cavern where vowels go to melt into a singular solution

also janis’s costumes over the course of the whole show are amazing but her look in i’d rather be me goes so hard. if i had any of janis’s jackets i think i’d curl into it like a cocoon and wait until the heat death of the universe for metamorphosis into coolness

do this thing: no joke this is the second song on my workout playlist. i hate the title so much but i love also the audience reaction when ms norbury starts singing as if she didn’t just slay the what’s wrong with me reprise gets me every time. truly the actresses in the adult women track are so underappreciated and so are the adult women in general. kevin g’s unabashed doing of the thing regardless of the haters is iconic. the return of the heavy percussion is so enjoyable and so are the mathletes’ lines lining up with the steaming kettle sound somehow behind each buzzer even though i hate buzzers because in real life mathletes nobody wants to answer on beat. ms norbury best matchmaker ever i LOVED the detail of aaron being present for the mathletes’ win but cady clearly focusing on the competition above all else. i’m pretty sure the mathletes are also the only characters to drop an f-bomb in a song which is just fantastic + the gretchen/regina parallel between kevin and marwan regarding schquillz is phenomenal. “the limit does not exist” being both the answer to the question that signifies cady’s return to her old self with more self-assurance and the theme of the musical in terms of not limiting other people is a level of genius i will never reach.

i see stars: i’m sorry they gave cady a big finale where she calls everyone beautiful and bright and holds hands with the other girls she’s hurt and you expect me to not love it?? this one had to grow on me though because i was so bothered about the stars imagery coming up maybe like five songs before when we’d been following animals and math for the whole show. as we all know characters can only have one or two interests before they become completely incoherent. but now i know more about light pollution and have played the video of this song with the pride chorus more times than i’ve blinked so i get it. shane oman also breaking his crown during the escalation of the instrumentals from a very optimistic but singular combo of strings and cymbals into the violins and heavier drums and whatever else is such a good detail. i still get goosebumps with that “you stars” there is just so much emotion packed into this finale and the rest of the ensemble joining in is as effective as onions being cut directly into my eyes when it comes to crying. obviously my fave version of this is the one with cady and janis’s mini duet during the rhinestones don’t shine part but guaranteed this one will make me cry no matter what

now. for the songs that didn’t make it onto my absolute fave list they are still my children just bastard ones and i will go into detail about them too because there is no point in writing this post if it does not crash the tumblr dashboard for you

a cautionary tale (reprise): akin to its origins, the reprise of a cautionary tale kicking off act two is there to introduce the act, but unlike its first iteration, the reprise is literally just there. no jokes no nothing. would love to see it reworked into something that reminds the audience they’re north shore freshmen being told this story by janis and damian because i forget about that framing device until the dialogue break in i see stars every time lmao but other than that it’s serviceable and any song that involves art freak harmonization is a solid song

meet the plastics: maybe i don’t love women as much as i claim to. I don’t know why i don’t like this song more truly. Maybe i just need to listen to it more lmao because the lyrics are great, the tempo changing with each introduction is great, and gretch waiting until regina’s out of earshot to try and convert cady into a fetch truther is great. Maybe it’s the “humps my leg like a chihuahua” line that turned me off from it because nell benjamin i do not care that you wrote legally blonde i do not think regina george would bring up animal humping imagery considering what her mother puts her through unless she was hopped up on pain meds. All that being said i would die for the polyphony at the end and karen playing with cady’s hair near the end is so cute

what’s wrong with me: gretchen it’s not you it’s me and i like songs with a specific sort of climax and what’s wrong with me really does feel like a music box piece played by some dusty not-quite-antique you find in the attic that makes you feel a particular, peculiar strain of melancholy because it’s so cyclical and fragile. which is the point, probably! It just sounds really different from the rest of the show and i feel like the lyrics don’t quite fit the language we’ve heard gretch using so far but maybe that’s also part of the point. That being said the line “see that you see what’s wrong with me” makes me go mad because there are so many ways to interpret it. Is she telling the audience that they should be able to see what’s wrong with her? Is she saying that the audience sees something good in regina that she can’t see anymore because of her constant mistreatment? Is she once again asking what’s wrong with her or has she finally had a breakthrough about her dismal self-esteem?

fearless: oh my god a cady song and act ender that i’m not totally into sound the sirens. but really fearless without the revisitation of the it roars/wild life passage that tells the audience what makes her fearless aside from wanting to move to america (which might make her more fearless than i thought now i sound that out but still) isn’t my favorite songs despite it having some of my favorite moments like karen’s ribbon dance, gretchen’s very cool dance, cady mirroring regina’s pose on top of the cafeteria table at the start of meet the plastics at the end, the mini someone gets hurt reprise at the end, it isn’t my favorite to listen to because the lyrics are just all over the place. Cady why are you saying that she’ll go cry to mama do you think mrs george is sober enough for that. Cady why are you spouting live love laugh merchandise ass quotes. Cady why are you quoting dwayne the rock johnson “imagine stronger, better, bolder” are you going to play a lacrosse game against regina. Why does karen not wear more vests after this number

You know what made me care about fearless?? The fearless reprise. Oh my god the fearless reprise. I need to make a separate post about the fearless reprise but i can’t listen to it more than once a day or i’ll end up crying for hours on end.  

stop: is it homophobic of me to put three damian songs on this list? probably but i make up for it by filling that broadway cares bucket every time i can. and it’s not that i even really dislike stop!! I have so many thoughts about stop!! i just don’t like it when compared to the other songs that can hold up inside and outside the context of the show!! i just feel like it has to be experienced live to understand its award-losing enormity unlike where do you belong and even then it sounds noticeably different from the rest of the show + essentially pauses the narrative to talk about a whole other story that never gets resolved outside of damian being ghosted (i thought theater was supposed to provide escapism 😔) and then frays a bunch of threads out from the ensemble in a way that doesn’t feel quite as well sewn in as the worship we see during apex predator or after rockin’ around the pole because like. it’s funny sure but just the act before we saw that things can be funny while also moving the story along past attempting to hammer in the message “stop ignoring your real friends” in cady’s thickened-by-makeup head. 

also how does damian even know about her word vomit. cady barely even word vomits in the stage show. it’s all just word coughing fits of confusion and unintentional comedy under peer pressure. whenever she says something embarrassing she either gets cut off or turns it into a whole song. i’m sorry damian i love you and your stupid straw hat but we just saw the whole show we don’t need a recap of everything that happened in the last hour with almost zero internal rhymes and without the frantic pacing of ya got trouble from the music man. cmon.

onto things i love about stop tho which are a) the gaiety (and gay-ty) b) the dancing and c) the staging. i love it when gay characters just get to be silly goofy instead of singing themselves to their graves and even if damian was built off the dramatic thespian homostereotype he gives me the impression of a silly goofy teen trying to balance the interests of his best friends with his sanity through the medium he’s most comfortable in which happens to be literally show-stopping song-and-dance number. also we get cadnis content in the background and the choreo i’ve seen for how janis plays keep away with cady’s phone only gets better (which of course is a synonym for gayer. let the babies hold hands before they yell at each other in the street and see a 15-second death they’re both sort of kind of responsible for). the dancing of course is wonderful. i mean does it make sense in-story for damian to somehow be popular enough with the ladies to rally them into a giant dance break after asking them to divulge their biggest, darkest secrets like an hour after being kicked out of the girls’ bathroom and calling one of them danny devito? probably not. is it really enjoyable when you aren’t itching to get back to the main story? yes. it also makes north shore feel more authentic in a sense?? obviously there’s so much about the social hierarchy exaggerated for comedic effect but yeah public high school is that crazy one day you’ll hear that a classmate got into a drunk driving accident and the next you’ll hear that the same classmate scored an audition for the x factor. and the transition from the art classroom, which is one of my fave sets in the whole show because aghhhh i want to pause everything and analyze art whenever it comes up in a tv show or movie or video game or musical because it’s almost never just art present for the sake of filling the set! there’s a reason why the set designers put that there or downloaded that asset or whatever! based on the official yt video in stop we see a sort of cubist portrait of janis ian, a few monochrome figure studies, and some more abstract pieces and i so want to know what this number would’ve looked like in-universe. did cady legit just run out of class to confront damian and get swept into a gay tea spilling session until the end of the day. be glad you got suspended girl

so. while i cannot begin to fathom the stamina it takes for damian to go from that gorgeous dance break into the grand vocal ending—philip doesnt know what he’s missing out on for sure—stop is not something i play on purpose but if the obc album shuffles to it i won’t complain!

what’s wrong with me (reprise): is it homophobic of me to put every gretchen song sans whose house is this on this list? probably but again it’s just not something i can put on repeat/a number i think depends on the production to arouse much entertainment value. it’s fucking hilarious though i’ll give it that. like it might be in the top three of mg songs when it comes to unadulterated comedy. my heart breaks when gretchen realises she’s stuck in this cycle of servitude and is still being hurt by the people she most desires the approval of and her work is still going unappreciated and then i get a heart attack from laughing because regina’s reign of terror is so absolute even her own mother has feared her from the age of three onwards?? in addition to that what’s wrong with me reprise is why i cannot stand for mrs george hate she’s just a girl too. a toxic girl who never emotionally developed past high school but like. what do you want her to do. she has never had a heartfelt conversation with her daughter ever. also “why couldn’t it just be drugs” is so funny to me because yknow. reggie gets hit by a bus and spends the rest of the show so high she forgets her love languages are acts of slanderous service, passive-aggressive gifts, weaponized physical touch, quality time spent playing hard to get, and words of refutation. taylor louderman deserved a tony for pulling the kalteen bar scream off every night too i think it’s night queen aria levels of difficulty.

the funniest part of this song to me is probably the way it starts and ends so abruptly. usually you can tell when a song’s about to start in a musical but gretchen nearly breaking down into sobs as soon as cady turns her non-self-tanned back without missing a beat is both relatable and hysterical. my girl is clinging to les mis motifs and middle school herd mentality in a world meant for fosse tributes. the spotlight is only on her when she talks about how dim her light feels in comparison to other characters. then mrs george joins in and you get the first female/female duet to rival defying gravity since idk. everything in fun home. i take cash and credit not criticism.

but really the gretchen/mrs george connection is so interesting because they tether themselves to regina in a style that’s irreconcilable with happiness on either end and they know that but possibly for a mix of selfish and sympathetic reasons don’t want to leave in any capacity. the way they’re separated on stage by little more than a change in colored lighting is interesting too and raises the question of whether or not they’re aware that regina’s sun is burning those closest to her in general.

also. can plastic cady snap and yell at me i want to feel something

in conclusion i love you pezberrywhoreee thank you for asking this. i think i said the words “also” and “but” more times than i said the word “gay” and that’s a real hurdle to fly over. i think i expect many random things in your inbox hereafter as retribution/reward depending on how you see it

#sigh. #mean girls the musical #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

[catboykurtis]

probably safer to post this here than the (ex)bird app

trans people, we have to start reclaiming transphobic caricatures

original post that inspired me to make this

(he has wolf in his name as well I wonder if this is a self report lmao)

#she’s just a sweet librarian wolf who wants kids to learn to love reading #trans #mtf trans #happy pride #furry art #love to all my trans sisters #this month and always

[jackoshadows]

can you tag your sansa stark posts as anti sansa stark? I’m not telling you to remove the main tag but just add the anti one

Just block me and move on.

It’s weird how fans of the character feel that canon Sansa quotes from the books is anti Sansa.  Meanwhile Arya and Jon stans have to deal with murder baby Arya and incompetent Jon or unrelated quotes randomly put together to rewrite relationships. Maybe that's why the Arya and Jon tags are so full of headcanon Sansa that most of the time feels like an unrecognizable OC.

And then in the comments there is someone who has ‘not read the books in years’ telling me that I lack reading comprehension  😂

And this is while there is so much racist Arya fanart from Sansa stans on the Arya Stark tag despite repeated requests from poc to stop doing this.

It's honestly so depressing to go on the Arya Stark tag and see fanart on the tag or sidebars - because racist art is so popular in fandom!! - where canonically white Arya is differentiated from her more classically beautiful sister by simply drawing her in darker skin tones. At this point it's clear that artists are aware of the racist implications of doing this and still continue to do this because they don't care.

And yet using a Sansa book quote is supposedly 'anti Sansa' and needs to be tagged as such. I guess the tags should only be used for headcanons of racist caricatures of ‘ugly’ Arya and beautiful blue eyed, whitey white Sansa being the best sisters ever and nothing else.

I think the problem for many Sansa stans is that they stay in their echo chambers with their made up headcanons so that when they do venture outside that chamber to posts by other readers on the tag using the books, they are shocked and think there is some sort of unfair crusade going on against their fave.

I am not saying staying within fandom spaces is totally wrong btw. We all curate our fandom experiences on Tumblr. This app in particular allows us to block out ships or opinions we don’t particularly like. I am sure my group of mutuals and fans, including me, who reblog and follow posts have a similar kind of groupthink.

However, what’s fascinating with Sansa stans in particular is that Sansa is so much of a self-insert at this point that 90% of the character is headcanons. Her most popular ships are crackships, her relationships with her siblings has been re-written, she is now the underdog and outcast etc.

This has happened to me so many times -  I make a post, a Sansa stan responds saying I am wrong, I don’t know how to read, I am a hater etc., I respond with book quotes and ask them to read the books, I am called uncivil and then immediately blocked (they just have to get that last word in!) Rinse and repeat.

Take the post that got me the above message for example.

“I’m not like Arya,” Sansa blurted. “She has the traitor’s blood, not me.”   - Sansa, AGoT

This is really not what happens in that chapter at all. Sansa does not really think of Arya, admits to forgetting about her at the end and it’s only in the next chapter she thinks that Arya may have gotten away on the galley Ned had arranged for them (Which does not happen thanks to Sansa’s tattling of Ned’s plans and Cersei placing Lannister guards on the galley).

At this point Arya is still trapped in KL trying to get out and it’s only been 3 days since Ned has been arrested. However, as per this person, Sansa is begging them not to torture and kill her and therefore names Arya, who she thinks is already safe in Winterfell, 3 days after the Starks and their men are taken down....

In the OP, I have used the most basic quotes, but in the actual chapter it’s far worse. Sansa is actually still dreaming of marrying beautiful prince Joffrey when she is taken to meet Cersei:

That night Sansa dreamt of Joffrey on the throne, with herself seated beside him in a gown of woven gold. She had a crown on her head, and everyone she had ever known came before her, to bend the knee and say their courtesies.

“Sweet Sansa,” Queen Cersei said, laying a soft hand on her wrist. “Such a beautiful child. I do hope you know how much Joffrey and I love you.”

“You do?” Sansa said, breathless. Littlefinger was forgotten. Her prince loved her. Nothing else mattered. (---)

“She is a sweet thing now, but in ten years, who can say what treasons she may hatch?”

“No,” Sansa said, horrified. “I’m not, I’d never … I wouldn’t betray Joffrey, I love him, I swear it, I do.” (---)

“And yet, I fear that Lord Varys and the Grand Maester have the right of it. The blood will tell. I have only to remember how your sister set her wolf on my son.”

“I’m not like Arya,” Sansa blurted. “She has the traitor’s blood, not me. I’m good, ask Septa Mordane, she’ll tell you, I only want to be Joffrey’s loyal and loving wife.” - Sansa, AGoT

And then at the very end of the chapter:

It was not until later that night, as she was drifting off to sleep, that Sansa realized she had forgotten to ask about her sister. - Sansa, AGoT

So yes, Sansa is scared of not being able to marry Joffrey anymore, frightened of being accused as a traitor like her father and therefore throws out Arya’s name as the traitor - when as far as she knows Arya is in KL and Lannisters could have Arya, the same as her.

Next,

This is the funniest part! - ‘I haven’t read these books in a few years, however, it’s you who is very much lacking reading comprehension’ 😂😂😂

Make it make sense please. And then we are back to the usual Sansa is just a child, she’s 11 goddammit! She’s a teeny tiny baby! It’s totally justified for her to throw her even younger 9 year little sister under the bus as a traitor to be tortured or killed by the likes of Joffrey and Cersei instead of her.

And then finally, the predictable conclusion:

And block! 

Because of course made up headcanons are ‘alternative interpretations’ and if we point out it’s fanfiction then we are being uncivil.

I can only say that I am glad that my side of the fandom don’t engage in this much fanfiction, projections and headcanons. It’s frustrating as a book fan to be told that I lack reading comprehension because I don’t accept their ‘alternative interpretations’ of how Sansa thinks Arya is safe in Winterfell three days after the Lannisters massacred all the Stark men and imprisoned Ned stark. And while Arya herself is still stuck inside KL unable to leave.

At this point I really do think there is no point in engaging with these stans because they are not doing this in good faith. Just block rather than waste time discussing. They seem to think that we need to accept their headcanons as book canon and if we don’t then we are simply anti Sansa posting anti Sansa stuff on the tags. It’s certainly a fascinating fandom aspect of a self insert fan favorite. It’s the reason she wins polls above more complex and well written characters in the books, the popular version of her is entirely about what fans project onto the character rather then actual written version in the books.

#asks

[saintsenara]

What first made you see a Percy/Rodolphus prompt and think it something you’d like to write?

honestly, anon? probably having an irrepressible sense of mischief.

the plot bunny which is now subluxation emerged from a request put in by @siriusly-sapphic for the @hprarepairfest last summer, which asked for rodolphus coming and going from the ministry during the year voldemort was in charge and becoming captivated by percy and which i thought sounded a hoot.

i couldn't make it work for the fest because of real life, but i thought the idea was so compelling i couldn't leave it alone...

neither percy nor rodolphus were characters i particularly cared about prior to starting to write it [which is a particular flop for rodolphus, given how much bellamort i write...], but i've always been interested - both in my reading and my writing - in things which delve into the structure of the wizarding world and its institutions, and the weird, neoliberal politics of the series. I like fics which get into the entrenched corruption of the wizarding state - and how this endures under the shacklebolt ministry - and how dumbledore and the order are canonically fighting to preserve that status quo, and how voldemort works really well as a populist figurehead, and how the canon text's idea that everything is fine once voldemort is out of the way is milquetoast bullshit.

and i also - unsurprisingly, given everything i've ever said on this app - really like stuff which gets into the idea that horrible people are not black-and-white caricatures, and can, in certain circumstances, be really lovely. and - of course - anything which explores the fact that love is strange and unpredictable.

so the prompt ticked all the boxes, tbh - with the added bonus that it also allowed me to stick to a principle i think it's sincerely important to hold in fandom: that everyone should write outside their comfort zone [whether that's characters, characterisation, ships, tropes, etc.] once in a while, and that the only real way to improve as an author is to do this.

#asks answered #asenora fics #rodolphus lestrange #percy weasley #subluxation