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#silly pran
bevioletskies · 10 months
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pat & pran + every episode ever | episode two (our skyy 2)
“I’ll help you. You didn’t ask me to. I just want to help my boyfriend.” “But your faculty won’t get to produce the play, then.” “I told you already. If I win, but that puts my boyfriend in trouble, what’s the point of winning?”
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patnapatjindapat · 10 months
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pran "go tell it on a mountain" parakul siridechawat
Bad Buddy (2021) Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x ATOTS (2023)
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loversmore · 2 years
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NANON KORAPAT as PRAN – BAD BUDDY (2021) for @hyunsung 🤍
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Inspired by @grapejuicegay and this
OCD is so much more than just boxes being out of place. Pran, just like other people with OCD, probably felt like something bad would happen if the box isn't fixed to the right position. Maybe they will trip and fall, maybe the box will catch fire from just the right angle of sunshine and maybe everything will end before it even began because of the Box being Out Of Space.
That's how debilitating obsessions are. Intrusive uncomfortable uncontrollable thoughts.
And adding to them the compulsions, which could be defined as routines and rituals performed to curb the anxiety of the intrusive thought the same way you undo an event (undoing is the defence mechanism suggested by Anna Freud (?) Or someone else I don't quite remember). Pran has multiple of those too across the special and otherwise.
Setting the box in it's space, yes. But also, never putting the tote down (as if that is what is keeping them alive, the TOTE ARMOUR!!), looking for the watch (the watch keeps me and Pat together and of something were to happen to it we would not be okay.) Etc.
[I truly believe in my headcanon heart that the counting system they came up with to Rate sex was also because numbers are also compulsions for some people with OCD. It's more tangible and manageable as rituals if there's numbers involved]
[I also truly believe that Pran making up silly little drawings of events that have happened in his life and then crossing them out or putting them on a board is also compulsively done to deal with either wanting the event to NOT happen or letting the memory be a permanent one. Because I've always been fascinated by his need to draw something and then cross it. Which is like letting the intrusive thought have shape and form and color and then crossing it to stop it from entering the universe]
The point that the post by @grapejuicegay was trying to make was that the recent OCD diagnosis could have been the reason why we only see Pran's stuggles moderately addressed. Because it's not just about not being a burden by the virtue of being Pran, it's the burden of being someone with obsessive thoughts and compulsive rituals that everyone may not understand or care about.
It's the burden of mental dysfunction.
And that is why, I'm happy with whatever we got. Because to even try and do justice to the entire possible levels of plot lines is the same dilllema of episode 11. The possibilities are endless. And P'Aof chose ONE. And let us with enough space to write and create and choose others.
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sunsetandthemoon · 1 year
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#BadBuddyRewatch + Behind the Scenes - afterday, west
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distant-screaming · 10 months
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wakes up in a cold sweat PATPRAN SOUNDWIN AU
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Every once in a while, while watching or thinking about a drama set in a school, it occurs to me that the characters are going through all of the nonsense they're dealing with while wearing little blue shorts, and matching shirts with their names on them, or neatly buttoned up shirts that everyone in their major wears, like they all got best friend outfits.
And then I laugh.
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randomjreader · 1 year
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Bad buddy truly has me in a fucking chokehold rn, like how am I supposed to recover from this show? How is any asian BL supposed to top this one? My expectations for any new BL that gmmtv releases now is gonna be through the roof bcs clearly, as we have seen, IT CAN BE DONE
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lurkingshan · 11 months
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Cuddling on the couch, drying each other’s hair, getting jealous of coworkers, comforting each other through trauma, texting each other all day, falling asleep on the phone with each other…
ya know, typical friends with benefits stuff
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morkofday · 2 years
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You are ten when you realize you have a gift for music. You end up in the music club room at school and it feels like a secret you’re unwilling to share with anyone but simultaneously wish to share with the whole world. Everything in that room speaks to you and suddenly your world is no longer painfully quiet.
You grow up with it. Music brings in noise and sound and melodies, and some part of you you didn’t know you were holding back is let loose. It feels like taking a deep breath after a long dive, and your fingers shake the first time you touch the strings of a guitar guided by your teacher. You smile, careless and wild and free, and for that short moment you can forget the dark eyes of your mom every time she witnesses you running around with the other kids while you wonder what she sees instead of your joy.
You manage to save enough money to buy your own guitar by the age of fourteen. It’s when music finally steps into your house, stopping to be something you’ve kept only for yourself. Your mom doesn’t regard it with the similar suspicion she does the people you’ve made the mistake of bringing to your home, and you’re glad. You still keep the guitar tucked to the corner of your room just in case, out of the reach of your mother and away from her sight. You don’t trust her sudden change of mind. You don’t trust her not to change back as quickly.
The guitar you can trust. You tell it all your secrets, even the deepest ones you have no words for. It learns that you are sensitive and scared and aching for something you cannot recognize. It learns you are full of doubt and insecurity, but that you are also stubborn and ambitious. It learns that you are lonely too – you wouldn’t clutch onto that guitar so tightly if you were not.
Music listens, and you start thinking it might be just enough. That maybe you don’t need anything else when you have that, when you can just succumb yourself into all that sound while your mother still keeps everything else very quiet. It’s the first thing you’ve ever been able to control in your life. It gives you some sick satisfaction to know that your mother will never be able to take all these songs away from you.
It doesn’t surprise you that despite it being so private, you still end up sharing your music with the boy next door. There has never been anything you haven’t shared with him, not even when you were supposed to stay out of his life, and music is just one more battlefield where you can compete. He cannot fall short when it comes to anything you do, and so you butt heads inside the music club room, sharing heated glances over your respective instruments like they’re blades of your swords.  
But even that rivalry tastes different when it is about music. You both have your own thing, your own sound; yours the soft thrum of a guitar and his the loud bash of a cymbal and the quick beat of a drum. He is as boisterous and all-encompassing in his sound as his instrument is, and the music room is the first place where you find yourself not being bothered by it but accepting it as it is, accepting it to accompany your own sound. It almost feels like you two fit and you briefly wonder why you’ve always had to fight so hard.
You form a band by the end of the year. It’s the first time you fight on the same side, and it brings you closer to each other. You start sharing genuine smiles and laughter inside the walls of the music room while maintaining the familiar rivalry outside of it, tucking this new and shiny thing forming between you two safely inside the blankets of your regular life. You are not friends; you keep telling that to yourself. You start thinking you’re not really sure what being a friend means to you. You’re not sure you’ve ever truly had one despite always having people to talk to.
By the time you start writing the song together, you know you cannot be friends with the neighbor’s son. You were never supposed to be friends with him in the first place, but you doubt your parents meant it quite like this. You doubt your mother wished for you to feel something else. Her eyes are still sharp whenever you reach out for someone that isn’t your family and that’s the reason you haven’t mentioned the band to her, especially when the neighbor’s son now shares that experience with you.
You are afraid of what she will say. You remember every lesson she’s given you so far; to keep people at bay, to stand by yourself, to always be the best so that you don’t have to rely on anyone for help. She’s told you to stand on a pedestal so that no one can step over you. Watching the neighbor’s son share his warmth for everyone so easily has made you wonder if the world is actually as cruel as she’s made it sound. Watching him makes you feel guilty, like you’ve failed her, and so you have to turn away.  
Your guitar is the only one who knows what you truly feel. It has seen you sing and smile and cry, knows how you clutch its neck with sweaty fingers when the neighbor’s son sits a bit too close, when he laughs a bit too loud. It knows it makes your heart quiver when he comes and messes up your perfectly planned life but that you like it, deep down. It knows your annoyance is only a cover up for your fear as you try to figure out what to do with everything that has bloomed between you two. You know you cannot keep it and you ache for it still.  
In the band contest, all of that falls away. Singing the song you wrote with him – about him mostly, about this thing you cannot speak of – you relax. You smile at him behind you, hitting a rhythm to your voice, and you think you finally know what it means to really connect with people. Music has helped you accomplish that, and it feels like you can finally speak the language of everyone else, like all of it just suddenly makes sense.
It is too much to take in. And then your mother sees you reading those books of connection you were never supposed to read, and she burns them like they were made of everything evil in this world.  
You see dreams of her stern, angry eyes for weeks after that. You sleep alone in your new dorm, surrounded by strangers you don’t feel like talking to and noises you cannot recognize, and all you can think about is that you haven’t lost only one friend but two with your ability to finally connect.
You mourn it, in ways only a teenager can mourn his heartbreak, deep and soul shattering. You know you cannot get your guitar back. It’s lost and probably getting eaten by worms, an abandoned thing no one will care about now. And him… You think you will never see the neighbor’s son again. If you ever were friends – which you doubt you were, which you doubt you will ever get to be when your heart feels what it feels, when your families are like this – then that friendship has come to an end. Your mother has reminded you of the dangers of it, how getting close to people can only hurt, and then she slammed the door to your face. You’re back to being something you’re not. It’s harder now when you’ve seen what you could be.  
You do not tell her about it or that she’s the reason you cannot make any new friends here. You do not tell her that you try to survive in your new school with only music in your ears so that you don’t have to notice how wrong everyone sounds after him. You do not tell her about your anger, the ugly thing forming in your chest. You just hide all of it away like you’re always done with things you know would only bring you trouble. You have strong walls, thanks to her, and you only learn how to make them stronger, how to build them thicker.
You do not know that in the future, you will meet the neighbor’s son again and that he will crash through your walls like they were made of paper. He will bring you back your guitar, your long-lost friend, and then he will tell you to play it like it’s as easy as breathing. And it is and you will play it; for him and for yourself. You’ll write another song, this time more obviously for him, only about him, about his love for you which you did not know you could have but got still.
You will realize you want people close to you despite your mother’s warnings. You have learned to speak their language and you cannot stop listening. And all of it happens through music, somehow, in the end. Music who has always known you better than you know yourself. Music who comes back to you – with him.
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A/N: i’ve been reading a lot about music as a forum for adolescents’ social and emotional development lately, and in many of those articles i’ve read it was mentioned that music can work as a friend who understands and listens to you. it is also a tool for young ppl to accomplish independence as music is something you can easily control (the song, atmosphere, volume etc.). all of this made me think about pran and his guitar/love for music a lot and how his mother inevitably takes that away from him. i also wanted to try one of these silly bad buddy snippets so this thing was born. uuhh... sorry and thank you?  
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morzowo · 10 months
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wen-kexing-apologist · 9 months
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WKA Gay Analysis Assembly
Hello! Welcome to my blog, please note I am unhinged about my silly little gay shows and as evidence I give you an exhaustive list of all the analysis posts (and some non-analysis posts) I have written :)
I will be updating this post as I write more, and the most recent show I am watching/writing about will be listed first. Please know my DMs and my Inbox are always open!
By, For, and About Queers (The By, For, and About Queers posts are not about any particular show, and are instead a little write up of the way I categorize the BL shows that I am watching)
By/For/About- Part 1 (a conversation with @absolutebl)
By/For/About- Part 2 (a conversation with @solitaryandwandering) Also check out the really lovely response from @solitaryandwandering here
Toxic and Messy: TharnType v. Only Friends (aka We Trust Jojo) (a conversation with @absolutebl and @respectthepetty)
The Sign
Feelings Made Visible: Design Choices in The Sign
Fantasy v. Reality in The Sign
Last Twilight
Episode 1 Thoughts (in which I state my fears that were later realized)
Reflections in Last Twilight (Episode 1-2)
Physical Touch in Last Twilight (Episodes 1-3)
Thoughts on Last Twilight, Ep. 5 (aka when I still thought the show was good)
Last Twilight, Ep 12 (in which I rant about the ableism in the narrative and the undermining of the show's themes)
Shadow
Shadow thoughts
The Left Hand of God
Is Brother Anurak the One Armed Man?
What Happened to Trin? aka Paying Attention to my Favorite Straight Boy
I Feel You Linger in the Air
Let's Talk About Sex: ESSAY #69!!! (breakdown of the sex scene in IFYLITA Episode 8)
Only Friends Academic Essay Series
Only Friends, Boston, and Queer Culture
Only Friends and Respectable Promiscuity
Only Friends, Racism, and the Commodification of Queer Asians Everything else
Ray and Rehab
Boston the Slut
Hypocrisy
Who is Mew, Anyway?
You're Mine No Matter What: The Commodification of Sand
Explosions (fight night round two, Ep. 6)
Fight Night (scene breakdown of the fight in Episode 5)[Sand Addition by @ranchthoughts]
Poor Boy (a discussion on the beloved Poor Boy t-shirt)
Watch The Warp Effect before Only Friends
Misunderstanding Top? (a conversation with @respectthepetty)
What the Fuck is Boeing Doing Here?
Only Friends Reflection
My Ride
Rain, BL Boys, and Reciprocity
My Ride Finale
Be My Favorite (how did I get here, I wasn't planning on watching this!)
Permanence in BMF (in conversation with @stuffnonsenseandotherthings)
Lack of Touch in BMF (in conversation with @wanderlust-in-my-soul and @dropthedemiurge)
Cupid's Last Wish 1. Trans Allegory in Cupid's Last Wish (in partnership with @so-much-yet-to-learn and @lurkingshan)
La Pluie
The Language of Love In La Pluie Ep. 8
Ep. 8 Stray Thoughts
Hands in Ep. 7
Hands in Ep. 6
Subversion (a conversation with @lurkingshan)
Pee Peerawich Can Fucking Act
Connection
Body Language in La Pluie Ep. 12
Step by Step
On the Subject of Pat 2.0- A Defense
On the Subject of Pat- A Timeline (a conversation with @waitmyturtles)
Totally Normal About Episode 7
Lighting in Ep 9 (a conversation with @istanchan)
Going Out- Sharing Space with the Unhoused
Compartmentalizing
Workplace Homophobia and Relationship Development Between Pat and Jeng
Our Skyy 2
OS2 x The Eclipse - Characterization
OS2 x BB x ATOTS- Phupa and Queerness aka Damn You WMT (that's right! Damn you, @waitmyturtles!)
OS2 x BB x ATOTS- Validation! aka Phupa and Queerness- Part 2 (and a shout out to @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles for writing such brilliant meta I almost...almost didn't have to write one myself)
Pat, Pran, Losing Parental Relationships, and Sex (a conversation with @shortpplfedup)
Our Dining Table
Silence (including conversation with @laowen)
Yutaka and Yukata
Bed Friend
True Colors? (a conversation with @dribs-and-drabbles and @respectthepetty)
Uea and Red
Reflections + Uea and Yellow
Uea and Gray (a conversation with @respectthepetty) Uea and Gray but this time not tacked on to RTP's post
Mommy Dearest 2.0
Uea's Episode 7 Costumes
Bed Friend and Reflections- Part 1
Bed Friend and Reflections- Part 2
Bed Friend and Reflections- Part 3 (this is my favorite of the parts)
Water, Songkran, and KingUea
Moonlight Chicken
Heart Confrontation Scene
Heart and Li Ming Colors and Stripes
Red, Wen, and Blue
Naming the Deaf Character Heart
Heart's Communication
Wen's Badge Parallel
Modern Thai Sign Language to American Sign Language Index
Heart's Vocalization
Mommy Dearest (Jam and Li MIng)
Isn't it Difficult to Be Born Poor?
Moonlight Chicken is for the Queers
Resolution
Heart's Signs Translated (this one is not mine, but I don't want to lose this post so I am placing it here)
Best Criers in MLC
Worst Parallel
Utsukushii Kare
Self-Deprecation Harms Everyone
Our Flag Means Death
Over-analyzing the Color Red
Silk as Symbolism for Ed's Heart
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dribs-and-drabbles · 4 months
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I was encouraged by @grapejuicegay to trash watch Pit Babe and so here I am but I have...questions...
Is Babe really getting off on hearing the sound of the engines?!
Why is Babe having sex with other Alphas (I can't believe I'm writing this 🤦🏽‍♀️) and not Omegas, especially if he doesn't like the way the Alphas smell? Is it because he's a 'Super Alpha' and prefers Alphas to Omegas? (oh dear god why am I doing this?!)
Isn't it a tad unfair to let him race using his special powers against others who don't have them?
I nearly choked on my water reading Pavel's tattoo thinking it said "Full Sausage" but then I remembered @slayerkitty or @sparklyeyedhimbo had already made a point of this and I thankfully realised it says "Full Savage" 😂
I actually can't stop thinking about how salty Babe's skin would be because that man would have been sweating in that car race...
Wait wait wait...are they really calling (translating) Babe having sex as the "concentration"?! Like it's a thing he needs to do to...release pent up energy?!...to focus his mind?!
Do we get to know if any of Babe's friends are also Alphas (or Omegas or Betas) or is he the only one?
Please! This is so silly (affectionate). They can't compete over a person...someone who has their own autonomy to say what he can do and with whom 😂 And, sorry, but Charlie, love, you should have had more confidence in Babe since you went to him as a fan.
How did Winner win that first one?... I can't believe this show has me googling how to win a drift race... "It's all about dominating the other driver..." ah, ok, now I get why they're doing this.
Oh, if I'd just continued watching I wouldn't have needed to google it 😂🤦🏽‍♀️
Kind of impressed by the actual drivers of these cars though.
Winner needs to take some advice from Elsa and Let It Go.
"I don't go into strangers' houses"... I smell a parallel in the future, it's that alpha stink.
*she squints* TINIDEE APARTMENTS?! Charlie is staying in the same building as Pat and Pran?! (*aaaand there she goes making it about Bad Buddy again*)
OMG what is it with villans and bonsai trees?! (I want a bonsai tree, does that mean I need to become a villainess? 🤔)
Why are they calling that guy 'Uncle'...he looks the same age?!
Okay, that was...not as bad as I first thought. Nut is a big bonus and Pavel and Pooh are doing a decent job. I do wonder if Babe and Charlie are endgame though or if Babe and Way are... Will I keep watching? Probably, now that I've started, but I may not do this each time...unless each ep throws up more questions. Thanks kk.
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xagan · 3 months
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10 QL People That I Want Carnally
Okay I've been tagged on this by @sunshinesanctuary and @nieves-de-sugui and it sent me into a panic because I realized that I don't actually want any of these people carnally (I can count on one hand the amount of people that fit that category and none of them are BL related 😅) so this will be just a list of people I find attractive and/or interesting.
1. Black
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Just look at him he is tiny but feels larger than life, there's so much pain in him that it makes me want to hug him, make him soup and force him to go to therapy. Also he looks ridiculously attractive with a bat on his hand and murder in his gaze 😍😍😍
2. Sand
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I will be honest this one is mainly because of how dedicated he is to others, he is a real friend and obviously worries and enjoys taking care of his loved ones. As someone who usually tends to take that same role with others the thought of having someone like Sand taking care of me is highly appealing.
3. Pat
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He is so open and honest about his feelings, he feels things so earnestly and that is very attractive for me. I'm low key kinda jealous of Pran.
4. Maya
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I'll be honest this one is really up there in the carnally category because damn, the attitude, the tattoos, the outfits, who wouldn't fall for her on sight. She can call me pretty boy and I would die happy.
5. Pisaeng
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Can't a girl just want someone to look at her like that? Also he is gorgeous, sweet, silly and talented, need I say more?
6. Yok
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I really don't think this one needs an explanation
7. Uncle Jim
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Earth is and will always be my first BL love, I could cry with how beautiful this man is and I think Jim has been one of the best characters he has ever gotten. Jim might be a bit standoffish but he cares so deeply, he is full of love and kindness, so much that it literally draws others to him.
8. Tiffy
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The bike, the leather, the take no shit attitude, she would terrify me in real life and turn me into a stuttering mess with just a smile and I would love every minute of it.
9. Gao Shi De
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Can you tell I have a thing for people who are madly, sincerely and openly in love with their partner?
10. King
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(see no. 9 for context)
I think everyone and their cousin has been tagged on this so please forgive me if you've already done it @non-binarypal7 @benkaaoi @gaym3bo1 @springkitten
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purplelupins · 9 months
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Dumb Puppy
|Ghost Recon: Breakpoint|
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Cole Walker/Fem!experiment!reader
Summery: reader is an experiment on Auroa, and Walker decides to keep her. This is just another day.
Warnings: mute!reader, non-con, mention of m receiving oral, P in v Sex, unprotected sex, breeding, mean!cole, spit swallowing, cum eating, public fucking, making people watch, punishment, objectification, reader gets knocked around, daddy kink, swearing, name calling (whore, freak, kiddo)
MINORS DNI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
Notes: a Comm for my friend @mandowifey !!! Enjoy 🤍🤍🤍
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There was nothing but an endless gentle dream before him.
Then a white light that nearly blinded you.
Your fingertips had hurt, and your head pounded when your senses overloaded. Your eyes felt like they were on fire- burning, burning, burning.
Then him.
Cole Walker was not a kind man, nor fair, nor gentle. He had clasped a collar around your sensitive neck as soon as he had released you from your suspension tank, and jerked you to look at him; an anomaly of Auroa Island, the scientists called you. Walker had scoffed at the claim until you opened your eyes and he saw those glowing blue eyes of yours. Like two cerulean fireflies looking back at him. He had jostled you when you didn’t speak, and had shot a scientist in the shin when he told him that you were a mute.
The man had half considered blowing a hole through your head since you’d likely be more of a bother than a use, but there was something about you that appealed to the sick bastard in him. The way your gaze followed him so carefully and you tilted your head when he spoke like you were processing what he said; how you tried to reach out and touch his face when you first saw him. How you flinched and went all wide eyed when he snatched your wrist lightning fast. How everything seemed so new and wonderful to you.
It made him grind his teeth, but he couldn’t look away. You were like some dumb little puppy he had found on the side of the road, and while you might not be the most brilliant prize he had taken, but he was certainly going to put you to good use.
He had a very good idea of how he would use you.
He knew you had the mannerisms and mental understandings of a dumb but loyal dog, and fortunately for him and unfortunate for you, you had latched onto him. You were his from the moment you opened your mutated eyes, and he knew it.
He had locked a tracking collar around your neck the second day- he liked having the ability to know exactly where you were at any given time if you weren’t by his side.
But regardless of the device, you were glued to him; he could barely go anywhere without you, and even had to cuss you out when he had to take a leak cuz you were just a breath away, wanting to follow him. He had shut the door right in your face, and has expected to look at his mobile screen and see your tracking dot move away into the compound in search of something to do…but it didn’t. Quite the opposite. He half wondered if you had taken the collar off somehow and bolted…but when he had opened the door, you were right where he had left you.
Something stirred in him after that when he found out sitting outside the door waiting for him. So obedient…so mindless. Not an independent thought in your head.
Cole smirked at the irony- he called himself a wolf and here he was with a puppy on his hands.
He had quickly discovered that he could do…just about anything to you.
Anything.
After a particularly difficult day, he had even held a gun to your head and spat profanities at you left and right and you had just looked up at him, blinking. Then while he seemed to have no end to his temper, you looked at the barrel of the gun curiously. You didn’t fully grasp why he was speaking so tersely and so loudly, but you knew he must know why; that was enough for you. You hadn’t seen a gun up close before, and the severity of the situation was lost on you; a gun pointed at your head was no silly prank. Which was why your naivety pushed you to kiss the end. The metal had been cool against your lips, and you hadn’t even noticed Walker had stopped talking until your hair was being gripped tightly and you were being forced to your knees.
“Open wide, I’ll fucking give you something to kiss.” He ground out, still holding his D-50 to your temple.
Oh yes, he had lots, and lots of things for you to do for him.
Months passed, and Walker had constantly waited for you to turn on him. For you to open your mouth and actually say something then try and put an end to his special use for you. But it never came. You remained as silent, and docile as the first day he had seen you.
It had been three long weeks of little to no rest for the recon group. Securing the island was no small feat, and they were beginning to feel it. Walker pushed them. And they did good work, which was why he finally cut them some slack and let them take a load off in their rec-room. There had been a chorus of “Thank fuck.” When Walker gave them the news of the break.
The men scattered themselves around to unwind; a couple playing pool, some watching a movie, playing some video game. There was an air of ease in the large room, and each man was basking in the change.
While nearly everyone was engaged in some activity to distract their brain or melt it while they could, Walker was incapable of any such thing. The man sat himself on one of the sofas facing into the room, nursing a drink. In his ear, Josiah was prattling on some story that had droned out into a dull buzz. Walker wasn’t listening to anything, and he certainly wasn’t relaxing, not exactly. His jaw was still tight and his free hand was clenching every few seconds as he sucked at his teeth with each sip.
Walker was watching something.
You to be specific.
To the world around you, you were very much a child. You stared at everything in wonder and had no frame of reference for…well…anything. Everything was new. It had been expected thst you would start to adapt and the novelty of the world would wear down, but it had been months and you still looked at grass like it was a genius stimulation toy.
Across the room, you stared out the window, and discovered that when you puffed out air onto the glass, you could draw pictures on the fog. That had kept you busy for a while.
Then you crouched down and tried to figure out what a light socket was. Evidently you had thought it was making a face at you and you tried to mimic it.
You poked and stared at insignificant things with such interest.
It was infuriating.
He hated how curious you were. “Always stickin’ her nose into shit.” He said about you.
Walker watched a few of the men stare at you when you left the window and leaned over to watch one of their pool sticks impact the little white ball; your eyes tracking it until it hit a red one, then following that one until it fell into the hole and subsequently into the net below that. Your eyes widened with excitement.
Walker’s left eye twitched.
One of his men elbowed the other and nodded at you when you crawled onto the floor to look at the balls in their nets beneath the heavy table.; all colourful and neat. An innocent act to you…a promiscuous act to those around you as they caught sight of the hem of your panties under your dress. You were always forgetting that you were no longer in the submersion suit issued to you from the scientists, and that humans didn’t know how to control themselves when it came to something as precious as a naive girl like you.
“-she did a real number on you, didn’t she?” Josiah’s had followed the man’s dark gaze when he didn’t respond to a question, and raised a brow.
Walker threw back a sip of his bitter drink and stared at his comrade from below his brows. “No one did any number on anyone. She’s a pain in the ass.”
“Why keep her then? I don’t see her do jack shit.” Josiah scoffed.
Walker clenched his jaw and rolled a mouth full of his drink in his mouth before he snapped his head in your direction and let out a sharp whistle. Your head popped up from under the table immediately; eyes already trained on him. Walker held up a hand and beckoned you over with two fingers.
You came to him without any hesitation, almost running to his side. As you went to crawl into his lap, he grabbed you roughly by the shoulders and hoisted you up. Walker stared at you plainly, then he looked back a Josiah and he shook you roughly.
His friend watched him jostle you and grope you freely with only a few quiet squeaks out of you.
“See? I can fucking do anything to her. Doesn’t matter.” He turned to you, “Just a dumb bitch, aren’tcha?”
You didn’t know what that was but you nodded.
Walker huffed out a humourless laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
Then he took another drink from his liquor and gripped your hair; Walker yanked you down and covered your mouth with his to force the liquid down your throat. You sputtered, but tried to choke it down as his tongue smoothed against yours. Some still dribbled down your chin, and he roughy wiped it away when he drew back.
He watched you for another moment, and you stayed still.
“Cmere ‘n kiss me.” He said, leaning back comfortably into the couch- his legs spreading wider which made you fall forward against his chest. Your hands braced against him as his fatigues and tactical thigh harnesses dug into your skin.
One of the men near the pool table nodded to Walker, “Hey walker…how old are your little girls again? Older than her…Aren’t they just about 30? Growing up so fast-“
“You gonna shut that mouth of yours or am I gonna shut it for you?” Walker bit out at him.
The man shut his mouth at the outburst and held up a casual defensive hand. He knew not to push any further lest he not walk out of that rec-room in one piece. Walker’s temper was nothing new.
Walker dragged his gaze back to you and stared at your incandescent blue eyes, “Didn’t I tell you to do somethin’ kid?” He snipped.
Your eyes went wide at your mistake, and you inched closer to him, which evidently wasn’t fast enough for the man.
“For fucksake…” he huffed out, then quickly grabbed the back of your head and smacked your mouth down against his- your teeth crashing into his in a painful clank that made you wince but it didn’t stop him. Walker forced his tongue into your mouth and when you were slow to catch up he yanked you away and knocked your forehead with the base of his palm, “You asleep? I said kiss me.” He growled and shook you for good measure. The harassment made your head all jumbled but you did your best to please him. You eagerly leaned down and kissed him hard- it was a mess. You still didn’t know what kissing was fully, and Walker didn’t have the patience to show you. Your sloppiness didn’t seem to phase him though as he flipped the bird to one of his men who he caught staring.
You kissed him and sucked on his tongue like your life depended on it until he tore away and turned his head. “Enough.” He rumbled.
And you stilled immediately, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you had done well, but it never came. It never did, so you sat there obediently.
You went to lean in again, thinking you might have done something wrong, but he resumed his conversation with Josiah like nothing had happened. So you settled dejectedly into his lap, and rested your head in the crook of his neck; looking out at the rest of the room where some other members were sparring.
You tracked their movements and jumped a little when one got hit particularly hard which earned you a smack to your ass.
“Knock it off.” Came Walker’s firm, but slightly slurred voice in your ear. You nodded and just watched instead. One of the men caught you staring and briefly waved. You liked the gesture and you brought your hand up to copy him, then looked over at your fingers as you moved them accordingly.
The movement evidently caught the attention of Walker, and he lazily moved his head to see what you were doing. He saw you waving- albeit oddly and in a distracted manner like you were an unsure toddler - and then followed where you were looking. He saw it was one of his men and his heavy brow fell low over his eyes.
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
Walker clenched his fingers into the flesh of your neck, and you let out a sound of surprise at the harshness. Pain shot through you as he wrenched you away from his chest and jostled you a few times. “The fuck you think you’re doing, huh?” He snapped.
When you didn’t answer immediately, he shook you again, harder. “Huh?” His liquored breath was in your face and the smell made you twist your mouth in displeasure- it wasn’t something you were used to yet.
The sight of you wincing sent something through the man, and the levee inside him broke. Hot rage filled him to the brim then overflowed.
“Up. Get up.” He snapped at you, grabbing your arm roughly and dragging you over to the pool table. He carelessly shoved the balls down the green felt, and hoisted you up onto it, face first. He bent you against the edge at the waist and hummed to himself when your feet couldn’t even touch the ground.
“You gonna look at every cock in this room? Huh? What are you a whore from the mainland, look at me! You think any of these mutts here give a shit about you? They don’t.” He pushed your head harder into the table, “That’s right. All you got is me, right? Even those fucking scientists didn’t want you.” His words were harsh and your listened to every syllable.
You whimpered again, hands looking for anything to grip.
“That’s right…just some freak-ass slut waiting to be fucked…” he grumbled under his breath as he ripped his heavy belt open, then his tactical pants. His thigh harnesses felt too tight as his muscles tensed but he didn’t care.
He lifted up your simple lab dress and smirked when he saw that sheen of slick coating your thighs and the large dark patch on your panties. “You getting off on this? Huh? You think you can just do anything you fucking want and not be treated like a whore?” He huffed out, breaths coming in pants.
“You want me to just leave? Just say it and I’ll fucking go. Say “Leave me here to rot, Colonel Walker.” Or whatever the fuck it is you’ll do…”
You shook your head frantically and tried to push up to make things right but he only pushed you back down and knocked your head into the table. “You know what’d happen if I left? You’d be all alone. Just a dumb bitch all alone again. That’s what you are without me. Alone. You hear me? Even those fucking scientists didn’t want you.”
You whined and squeaked as you fought to turn around and try to see him, try and show him he was wrong, but your attempts were fruitless. Walker smirked down at you as he worked his fatigues open, and his other large hand splayed open over your back, pinning you completely. Your eyes flickered around at the faces in the room as the they watched their commander nudge his pants down enough to pull his hard cock out, and stare hungrily at your form.
"Hold still." He barked, and in an attempt to show him that you could listen and hopefully win his favour back, you stopped moving. Your brain was screaming at you to do something- fight or flight kicking in- but you couldnt bring yourself to do a thing. You still didnt fully understand why he was so angry with you- you had just been a little curious...but if he was cross, you must not have realized how wrong you were. Your fingertips hurt from trying to grip the table as you remained suspended off the floor.
Walker ran the weeping tip of his throbbing cock along your drenched panties, and tsked when you whined. He moved the fabric aside, and ground into your embarrassingly soaked lower lips, spreading you open for him to see the constant amount of slick coming out of you. “Fuckin’ broken tap…” he mumbled to himself, but you heard him. Of course you heard him…and you whimpered.
“Shut up!” He snarled and rammed your head into the table again, making the room spin in front of your eyes.
You felt tears prickle in your eyes, but you obediently fought to do as he said. You needed him to know that you could listen. That you were good.
Walker, continued to run the tip up and down your folds, teasingly dipping inside you just a little each time to put you on edge, never knowing when he might thrust into you. Then, he dipped down to your clit, and pushed down with his cock making your jump and gasp. The sound of you excited him, and he quickly tore the crotch of your panties in half.
You could hear him chuckle.
You could hear everything; the room was silent. Each pair of eyes were on you, and the example he was making out of you.
Walker leaned over your trembling form, and breathed in the air by your neck- sweat and distress permeating it. “You ready, pup? On the count of three you’re gonna take everything I give you, got it?” He murmured in your hear. You nodded quickly.
“Good…” he dragged out the word and goosebumps formed on your arms. Walker stared down at you, and his face twisted into a sick, cruel smile, “One-“
All air was knocked from your lungs as he thrust into you without warning. You gasped out a ragged cry, and dug your forehead into the green felt below you as your cunt was forced to stretch too fast too soon. Walker barked out a half groan and half laugh at your pain.
“Oh I’m sorry…did you r-really think this was about you?” He mocked you, thrusting again until he was rooted fully inside you; his fat tip pressed right up against your little cervix.
Everything inside you felt too full, and too warm. It was too much all at once, and you whined. You wanted so badly to know what you had so wrong, but Walker was hell bent on making sure you couldn’t do anything but take his cock. Your legs shook as he ground against you for a moment, as if he was enjoying you squirming so much.
Walker snapped his hips into you hard, making you bounce further onto the table, and making the table itself screech an inch across the floor. The sound was deafening in the rec-room. He grunted and got a better grip on your soft hips before starting a relentless, brutal pace. The smack of his stomach against your flesh and the shuffle of the pool table was all you could hear; that and his demeaning words in your ears.
“There you go, there you fucking go you little bitch was that s-so hard? Huh? Mute whore.” He goaded you, and you couldn’t even think of defending yourself. All your thoughts began to evaporate as he fucked into you like a rabid dog.
Walker hummed raggedly, and low in his chest at the sight of you splayed on the table for him- so submissive. The man released your hips for just a moment before snatching your arms from their places beside your head, and wrenched them back against your spine. Your back arched unnaturally and you cried out at the sudden change. He kept your wrists together in one tightly clenched hand of his- fingers closing around them like a shackle.
He had barely paused as he fixed you into the new position, and you half hoped he might be a little softer, but he brought his free hand back to your fleshy hip and began hammering into you even harder than before. The edge of the table dug into the front of your thighs and your hips, circulation almost getting cut off. But he didn’t care about your comfort. Not even a little. You could have been bleeding from your head and Walker would have just told you to keep quiet so he could cum.
Your teeth clashed against eachother as you fought to not bite your tongue. Your jaw hurt, and your back was burning. You looked around again at the room, and caught the gaze of one of the men, who quickly looked away. Walker caught the action out of the corner of his eye, and he released your hip to draw his pistol on the man.
“Look at her again. I fucking dare you.” He growled.
The man shook his head and looked back at the TV screen.
Walker huffed and maintained his bucking into you, gun still in hand. Then he had an idea. He leaned over you and put the gun to your head, and you jerked.
“Feel that? You’d better fucking cum soon. Daddy’s getting bored.” He rasped. The cold steel made you whimper- you had seen the weapon before and what it did. You knew it could end your life.
With the new angle, the underside of his cock stroked against your sensitive patch again and again. You could feel yourself grow warmer and warmer- every nerve ending alight. Your head felt light and your feet felt tingly- like nothing was connected to you. All you could focus on was the constant pounding between your legs and how perfectly tense your muscles were getting.
Then, your wrists were released all of a sudden and you crashed down into the table with a thud. Walker’s large hand reach past your hip, between your legs and he began drawing skilled circles around your clit. You arched your back without him this time, and felt tears form in your eyes from the overwhelming shocks shooting through you.
“Did you hear me? Are you fucking deaf now, too?” He spat.
You shook your head frantically, hands once again scrambling at the green felt.
Walker went quiet for a moment, then your felt the air get knocked out of you as he whipped you around onto your back faster than you could understand. Your spine impacted the table and you winced. He had pulled out of you to turn you, and when he forced himself back inside you, that extreme feeling of fullness overwhelmed you. The fat tip and pulsing veins shoved against your g-spot brutally, and you couldn’t even get a breath before your orgasm hit you full force. Your dry throat was hoarse as you let out a strangled cry.
Walker smirked as he felt you squeeze him impossibly tight, and he almost lost control at the sensation. He groaned when your wave of warm cum flooded his cock.
As you twitched and shook, he stared down at you, now having a perfect view of your fucked-out face; all flushed and sweaty. Your blue eyes were heavy and your poor lips were bitten and swollen.
Walker laughed. “Now that’s how you fuck a bitch into her place. Make her fucking brainless…stupid whore.” He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from your high, not caring how sensitive you probably were. You whimpered at the continued onslaught, but stayed still. Stayed good, for him.
Walker brought one of his hands up to your throat and snapped, “Open.” To you.
You stared up in confusion for a moment, which was too long for him. “Your mouth- open your fucking mouth.” Walker squeezed his hand around your throat, tight.
You obliged fast, and parted your lips. Walker smirked wolfishly and spat onto your tongue.
“Swallow.” He commanded you.
You swallowed and stuck your tongue out to show him you had done as he asked, and you saw his eyes grow heavy.
While you thought Walker had already snapped when he had grabbed you and hauled you onto the pool table, you were so clearly wrong. The man seemed to be overtaken by something, as he suddenly regained all energy he had at the start and began fucking you like his life was dependant on it.
His hand left your throat and he grabbed both of your thighs and forced your knees to your chest; your calves hooked over his arms as he hunkered over your body and threw his weight into his thrusts. He was fast and brutal as he lost control and bared down on you.
Your mouth hung open in a silent cry.
Walker bent down and licked into your mouth, and of course you let him.
“Not a fucking noise huh? Even when you’re gettin’ fucked like the bitch you are…fucking hope you can’t get knocked up, kid.” He stopped thrusting for a moment, and ground against you hard. But you obediently stayed still and continued to stare up at him just as he told you to.
“Stupid fuckin’ puppy.” He muttered. “Gonna get bred like a bitch.”
You whimpered as he picked up his pace again.
There was an emptiness in his eyes as he stared down at you as you bounced with each hard thrust. Walker’s thrusts began to grow sloppy and irregular as he began to come undone.
“Don’t you dare spill a drop.” His voice was ragged and tight; the tendons in his neck pulling taut against his flushed skin.
You nodded, and squeezed his cock with your pelvic muscles to help him reach his release. The older man’s cock throbbed inside you; you could practically feel his pulse in your mouth.
Then, he bucked into one more time; so hard your teeth clamped down on your lip and you tasted blood. A gradual warmth filled you as he came. Rope after thick rope of it, he pumped you full; the pulsing tip pushed up against your cervix- threatening to shoot into your womb.
“Take- ah fuck…take it.” He growled, pressing down on you, his face burying into your neck. You panted, trying to breathe at all but his weight made it difficult. Then you felt a sudden pain in your shoulder; Walker bit down on your skin there, digging deep into your flesh to mark you.
As his teeth sank into you, he felt a sudden burst of a sweet iron on his tongue. He had made you bleed. Walker took a sick satisfaction out of it as he stayed nestled inside you.
Your cervix ached. It felt as if it had been punched, and your hips felt brittle. You couldn’t feel your feet, aside from the pins and needles prickling your toes. The feeling of bruises forming all over your hips was begining to register to your body, and you suppressed a whimper.
Just as you had gotten used to the heavy weight of him on you, he finally began to stand up. His eyes were cold, and his mouth sat in a firm line.
You almost thought he might kiss you, but then he looked down at where his cock entered you, and slowly pulled out. An obscene wet noise emitted from you between you, and you felt a gush of wetness as his tip popped out of you. Your thighs soaked with his cum; little rivers of it running down to your knees as you laid limp.
A shiver ran up your spine and down your arms and legs as cold settled into you. Walker watched you, bored, as he tucked himself away into his fatigues and pushed his hair back like nothing had happened. He picked up his gun where he had dropped it beside you too, and put it in its holster with more care than he handled you.
“Fucked out of her god damn mind…” he mused out loud. Walker looked you over slowly, almost like he was glancing over a blueprint or a map: mostly disinterested. Then, he looked down at were there was a stream of his cum coming out of you, and he seemed to think for a second before reaching between your legs and easing two thick fingers inside you despite your mewl of pain. He gathered a scoop of your mixed cum on his rough fingers, and brought it up to your mouth. You opened your lips without thinking, and let him push his fingers down onto your tongue, and you lapped at them to consume the sticky liquid. You didn’t stop until he pulled his hand away and gripped your hair one more time, leaning over your spent form.
“You’d better fucking get up unless you want my boys comin’ over here and gettin’ their fill too.” Came his rumble of a voice in your ear. You stared up at him, and forced your hands under you to push up like he suggested.
You sat up and eased off the table, but when your feet hit the floor, you crumbled. Your body collapsed to the floor in a heap, though you tried to put your weight on your forearms; you winced when you felt the pain in your shoulder from his bite.
Walker shook his head and turned on his heel.
“Shows over, boys.” The older man took a seat back on the couch where he had been, and began talking to Josiah again like he had just left to take a leak.
The room around you seemed to return to normal then, each person returning to what they were doing before you had been thrust up onto the pool table.
You fought to breathe, and you managed to get into your knees when you heard that sound that make your head perk up every time; despite what he did to you.
His whistle for you.
“Cmere, pup.”
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grapejuicegay · 10 months
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I really like the way they've used parallels this time around. It's clear parallels and we know the scenes they're referring to the brain rot is far far too strong but they're not all direct parallels.
Direct parallels would have been the easier way of doing it and we would have still enjoyed it but they have put in a lot of effort to tell an original story while staying true to the original moments.
Obviously there's the more direct parallels like the chase at the very beginning, the meal with Ink and Pa. And the directly flipped ones like Phupha collapsing or Pran showing up to the sponsorship meeting as Pat's friend. And even the in show callbacks like PatPran talking about the last time they were pressed up together in the elevator.
But they've all been mixed in together along with the throwbacks which are parallels but you need to pay attention to notice. Like Pat having a bruise on the same cheek because Pran went the wrong way with the punch. Or the "I like it, I like you" tent scene. And I'm sure so many more I haven't noticed yet, and even more to come.
I just really like that even for this silly one-off special where they have free reign to do just about anything (look at the other specials, they're all fun and they're all doing silly things), there is still so much care and sincerity and heart and effort put into it.
It's a special show for absolutely everyone involved - and they keep reminding us why.
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