#blah blah blah narrative tension blah blah

[thelakesuite]

finally found the murderer music and it was the one acoustic song on a local punk band's album i first heard yesterday. somehow. anyway i guess it's albert time again

#rusty lake #rusty lake roots #i am vastly more a samuel guy but i don't listen to music about being normal #can't do much narrative fun with him #plus alby isnt even the sexyman anymore. david passed him in the polls #i'm a shrivel up old man #the chorus of that song goes 'can you feel that tension? / who do i have to kill to get some of your attention?' #and i successfully resisted throwing it into here! #album good blah blah. or should i say etc

[thesherrinfordfacility]

I’m so torn on whether I want there to be an angsty desperate mid-season kiss before the resolution just to make us scream or drag the tension out til right after the resolution when everything is Finally Settled For Good and rain is falling and Aziraphale can make his apology/confession and it’s slow and tender and deep

(either way, if the Penultimate Kiss isn’t a 360-degree revolving shot I don’t want it, v much convinced that was what Neil wanted to do for the Final Fifteen before he changed his mind)

i genuinely daydream about this (and s3 in general) an ungodly amount (do i just need to pull on my big girl pants and dive into the foray of writing fic??? probably) and try to juggle what would make sense for the narrative and the characters, and make it less about what i want to see from s3 personally ep1 sex scene cold open + '7 days earlier titlecard'

babes i know this is not at all what you asked for (tldr at the bottom) but bugger it im gonna write out where im currently at with the whole 'i would give all my worldly goods for s3 to go something like this'

(and if i ever write fic consider this basically the framework) (and therefore is half serious half bants) (and if nothing else helps keep meta/speculation straight in my head - imagining it all in context):

ep1 cold opens with another BTB flashback but set after the s2 one (aziraphale and crowley arguing about the brewing rebellion for example, aziraphale tries to warn him again etc, no wing lift), and then hard cut to modern day aziraphale, stood in the exact same position but alone, in his new regalia blah blah blah, roll opening theme

so ep1 is likely gonna be a fair bit of exposition of the second coming, right? maybe there's a timeskip? either way we get glimpses into their existences in the After. im undecided whether crowley would remain in london, or specifically the bookshop? (i think he would, because there's opportunity for a mirror of the 'he saved my books' moment - ie. not let muriel sell a single one - which im sure you can imagine could be Delicious later on), but in any case i think crowley - given that he's keeping tabs on tadfield etc in s2 - would start noticing that maybe the world isn't quite right, Loads of people have started going missing (also dropped as clues in s2), natural disasters etc. Hmm This Is Strange

meanwhile, we get a bit of insight into aziraphale's daily headache in heaven, until they finally get the fax from 'god' about the plane carrying the big JC (and, look, Whoever it is that gets off the plane, whatever theory you subscribe to, let's say hypothetically it's absolutely not jezzy c and aziraphale knows it... warlock? idk). aziraphale realises it's all gone A Bit Wrong, ah shit gonna need to talk to crowley.... rolls credits

(plus im sure there will be new characters plus possible reintroductions of previous ones etc etc that will need screentime)

so they don't interact at all until ep2, not until maybe like 10 mins in - muriel calls mr crowley, he gets to the bookshop and walks in

aziraphale waiting in there, casual as you like with a dainty cupperty (wrong, he's shitting himself), and there's the awkward moment of 'oh when we were last here alone you snogged the living daylights out of me', but they're very much Not Talking (About It)

aziraphale explains what's going on, it's all going wrong, They Can't Find Josh, crowley probably gets a bit shitty with a bit of 'i told you so', aziraphale gets pissed off too because 'he's kinda got a point', but regardless please help

i think crowley would initially refuse - why would he want to be involved at all??? in ending humanity once and for all??? - and would probably leave after a bit of a wessex-flashback-callback of 'we're not having this conversation'/'fine'/'fine!'

idk maybe aziraphale would go back to heaven and start to reeeeeally panic, because the guy they've got in heaven is definitely Not The Messiah, and aziraphale needs to find Him before shit really hitteth the fan, but he needs someone on earth to help him (sigh better go back and ask crowley again)

crowley meanwhile takes this information and possibly works out that actually lol turns out the second coming came a bit early, and yeah probably do need to find him before the world starts going completely to shit - aziraphale comes back and crowley agrees this time (✨a new Arrangement✨) (OH 'THE ARRANGEMENT' WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD EP TITLE)

but it's like. The Arrangement if it was truly all Just Business - they're Not Friends etc

maybe crowley going back to hell in reconnaissance mode would feature here? deploys the beloved tactical turtleneck again? ends up claiming the grand duke position or something? or has been grand duke all along? idk

now i would LOVE another long cold open of flashbacks, but idk if that's gonna happen, probably not. but possibly ep3 is them strategising, sharing intel, Still Not Talking, trying to put the pieces together (i still convinced that warlock/greasy johnson are gonna fit in here somewhere so like. return to tadfield? ripe opportunity to bring back The Them, Anathema/Newt etc)

REVERSE WALL SLAM and maybe a little bit of a spat where some of the anger from the final fifteen is let loose or something - but nothing resolved

probably some more shenanigans of shit going down in heaven, with Cheesus running rampant - angels starting to wonder wtf is going on (and god still has her out of office email on)

maybe the end of ep3 is that they work out what's happening - who JC is, where he is, why the second coming has already started, idk but like major plot pieces start slotting together

so ep4 is where it starts getting hazy but like. i feel that this is gonna be roundabout the time where aziraphale and crowley are in the bookshop researching like mad, trying to piece stuff together, come up with Plans, and maybe crowley goes looking in aziraphale's desk, and unearths the Photo - CUE 1941 FINAL FLASHBACK

and then we return maybe to present day? and this is where they finally get out all the shit that has been building up over the centuries, and culminated in the final fifteen - all the times they've upset the other, lied to the other, etc

tender bit towards the end of this - i need a "my dear" or even BETTER a "darling" thrown in here somewhere

however. i don't think there will be a kiss. a lot of shouting, crying, and maybe yeah stuff coming to some kind of tentative resolution/understanding, but not a kiss. idk i just don't think they'd be ready for it - they might come close to it, like i suspect happened in 41, but they both just honestly say they're not ready but that they meant what they said and that their One Day is coming, they're not done, they're not over 🥹🥹

nownownow hmmmm - end of ep4? angels/demons both come for them; shit's going on in the background, they've twigged this time they're Up To Something, and this time the bookshop isn't protected as it should be - get their arses hauled up to heaven. and major thing? metatron/crowley showdown - not a physical one but a...... 'oh didn't he tell you, aziraphale?'

EP5 LONG ASS COLD OPEN OF THE WAR AND THE FALL

book of life explanation in here somewhere idk

and then yeah maybe a bit of a pinnacle moment for aziraphale of choosing crowley after whatever is revealed from the fall? because he's keeping his promise dammit and he's choosing their side, always their side

firefight out of heaven (if aziraphale falls in the process im gonna throw hands but also. mmmm whump material) and maybe then the 360 kiss? bc you're so right and i totally agree - im glad they didn't do it for s2, but i do think it was initially intended and I Need It

someone gets injured probably but they all flee down to the bookshop and start preparing for whatever is about to come - heaven and hell vs. them/humanity etc. plus the dream sequence of the bookshop will never leave my mind Ever

idk if they'd stay there tho, maybe get back out to tadfield. further heart to heart probably after the whole fall, all cards on the table, 'is there still an us'/'of course there is you old silly' thing

and whilst i don't think ep6 will be like a huge battle, seems a bit ooc, Shit Goes Down, largely gets resolved in the first half just like s1. vavoom (not that kinda vavoom) (maybe) sorted

second coming gets sorted. idk how. but it does

id love for there to actually be some kind of interaction with god? in a way? even if she just stays silent, and they basically just come to their own conclusions about What The Point Is, and she just. smiles like the mona lisa

then the rest of ep6 is just. pure south downs

kiss

OOOOH a kiss outside the front door of their new yellow cottage (i live and die by the yellow cottage aesthetic) (because it's ✨pretty✨) AND IT'S RAINING BUT IT'S OKAY BECAUSE THERE'S A CUTE LITTLE GABLE PORCH OVER THEIR FRONT DOOR now there's a Vavoom

and another

oh go on then have another. and a cuddle. artful shot of them waking up of a sunny peaceful morning in bed together snuggling (ft. tasteful duvet/blanket draping? yes pls)

end of s3 has them slow dancing in the lounge/kitchen (in the GARDEN???) to The Song and the nightingale flies away from the windowsill outside (you can pry this visual away from my cold dead hands)

RIGHT so this is complete overkill @silcosmoke and for that you have my most profuse apologies bestie but. tldr yes a passionate snog in the midst of Tension and Drama, and then just lots of lovely little nice ones ☺️💕

#ive gone full sicko mode on this im so sorry #im also holding out hope that we actually get an 8-episode s3 rather than 6. bc that would just be so nice re: the book working title 🥹🥹 #anyway tho i will probably never write this but it was a fun exercise #good omens #ask #s3 narrative spec

[loveislandthegame]

thoughts on today’s volume !

but first, there was some sort of scare about hacked gems being taken away. they weren’t, it’s just that the full number is cut off, so you’ll only see the last 4 digits (i tend to be late with these kinds of things , i need to be more active in the fandom)

i’m glad that FB is too incompetent to copy a certain game that does have anti-hack measures 🌝

now the actual stuff:

ispy was actually kinda fun, for a game within a game. for some reason the islanders never acknowledge this anymore, but i got everything right ! idk if it’s because i’m boring or what but MC’s secret was just that she eavesdropped … mind you, damn near everyone in the villa does that 😭 at least we got to defend ourselves for free

as for the ensuing drama between sophie/jack & emel/oakley…i had to reread screenshots because it was such a narrative trainwreck. MC said it better than i can:

and i get that they were trying to cause tension between you and your LI but…that was kinda pointless babes 😭 beyond the fact that i wouldn’t care if jin was playing me because i want claudia, it’s so damn obvious that “everything is going to plan” meant that the recoupling was going the way he wanted, not that he had a plan

is there actual branching when it comes to patching up the drama ? i doubt it, but i helped the girls. however i didn’t agree to help jack fix his failing relationship because they just need to break up (and also leave the villa)

i refuse to have a repeat of uma making the entire afterparty about her messy ass ‼️

i chose to spend the night with claudia, jin was sad but also understanding . we got disqualified from the hideaway lmao but i assume, or at least, i hope it’s set up so that Arguing Couple (sophie and jack for me) always get the hideaway, even with people romancing the guys . i hope the wlw girlies weren’t alone in having to read sophie grossly brag about…69ing jack. lol. 🤮

the star of the show: claudiaaaaaa ❤️❤️❤️ the story about her stuffed crab was cute (and strangely relatable, not a crab but i caught two dolphins in a claw machine when i was a kid lol) i hope the next recoupling comes ASAP

P.S. once again we got Paywalled Backstory, a diamond scene where your LI spills the tea. i was actually paying attention this time, so here’s a summary:

bombshells christy and brad were plotting together trying to stay in the villa… (apparently treating a competitive show like a competitive show is a bad thing)

LI (jin for me) catches them, strikes a deal with them: he won’t tell the other islanders about their plan if they stop being snakey, but #Chrad gaslit him, “nobody will believe you!” or whatever, so he picks them both as two untrusty islanders during some game . the villa kicks off, blah blah blah

#love island the game #litg #litg s8 #litg season 8 #litg temping fate

[squ1dteeth]

My thoughts on the newest helluva boss (mostly critical)

Man, usually I am in the boat of "critical, but ultimately still love it" with these season 2 eps, but Unhappy Campers might be the first I've hated.

Moxxie and Millie felt like their motivations should have flipped. Millie's need for validation came out of nowhere. She's objectively the most useful and competent member of the team and nobody has ever told her otherwise. Why would she be getting sidetracked by the compliments of some random humans? Moxxie's whole thing is loving and supporting her so Millie acting like he doesn't write more than one song about how amazing she is is really strange.

Likewise, Moxxie does need validation but his attention seeking behavior was really off. One of his strengths is he's a talented songwriter but he basically just wrote a song that went "Me me me me me?" and it just...didn't feel like him. I was watching the episode with a friend and I had so much secondhand embarrassment watching Moxxie make an ass out of himself.

I think the episode would have worked much better if their roles had been swapped. Moxxie has been the narrative's punching bag, especially this season, and it would be fun to have an episode where he is praised for once, but it goes to his head. And Millie feeling jealous, but then realizing her husband needs her support the same way he supports her, would be adorable and make sense for their first real moment of tension onscreen.

There's other ways it could have made sense too. We know very well Moxxie has daddy issues, and his need for Blitz's approval stems from the fact he's an older male authority figure. So what if there was a very fatherly camp counselor there that Moxxie wanted the approval of? In my opinion, this would make much more sense, because since when do M/M care about what humans think of them? Up until this point in the show, human characters have all been disposable meat sacks, with no traits other than dumb or violent. Not only humans, but human teens. It's just very cringeworthy to me since it's such an out of nowhere urge for these married adults to want teens to fawn over them.

Also, from the moment Moxxie said their characters were siblings, I knew it'd be an incest joke. And yeah it did happen...in the worst way possible. Is no one gonna talk about how they stripped down and banged for an audience of preteens? Yes, I get it, it's hell, the characters suck, blah blah blah but not with M/M. I could see characters like Blitzo or Verisoka doing that but M/M? Besides the pegging, I feel like the jokes always been that they're vanilla by hell standards. Moxxie got mad that Blitz watched them fuck and their whole plot in Ozzie's was about how he refused to publicly declare his lewd feelings for Millie. But...they're exhibitionists now, I guess, because this show is no longer about assassination, it's about character assassination.

(Some positives to finish off this post. I really liked Barbie Wire! Her design as a human especially. She's gorgeous and I wish we could have had more of her and Blitz. Also, the backgrounds and shading/lighting are better than ever. I'm a huge fan of the appearance of the sloth ring and the moody pink lighting it comes with. Helluva may irk me with its writing sometimes but the art blows me away enough to keep watching.)

#helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva boss review

[ystrike1]

The Villainess Is A Marionette (Season 2) - By Han Yi Rim (7/10)

I have some opinions. Lots of fans are not going to like those opinions, but I feel like this webtoon has been going downhill since its first season ended. The new characters have no narrative weight or they're just straight up not interesting. The sudden inclusion of a bogus magic system AND a Super Special Magic Boost for the protagonist stink of wasted potential.

Cayena Hill. The powerless and beautiful princess. With memories of her brutal death and her incoming fate she decided to use her position only to survive. She stopped caring about marriage and beauty and even power. She became a cunning strategist that captured hearts with her brain, not her face.

Now...she's an all powerful witch lady, and I'm devastated.

*crowd starts booing*

(Cough. Cough. Sidenote the love interest keeps getting shelved. He's barely in the recent chapters. Seriously who is this guy?)

The Villainess Is A Marionette was a magic free zone for 60 WHOLE CHAPTERS. The webtoon was and is popular because it is a beautifully drawn psychological thriller. Cayena's enemies are men and women who are obsessed with her...or obsessed with ending her life. As a princess she was in a disadvantageous situation. Her crazy brother has the big army and the psychotic will to kill. She had nothing at the start. She had to prioritize herself and make sacrifices to live. She also, in the meantime, had to avoid an insane suitor who wanted to stab her for talking to other men.

Those are high stakes.

The romance felt like a B-plot, because the tension was so high.

Then Cayena meets this guy. The Immortal Arcmage of the Black Garden. I don't care if he's hot. He is frankly a joke. The magic system that gets suddenly introduced into the story sucks. It's boring, and it doesn't follow its own rules.

Barely anybody knows magic even exists, but you know the drill. It must exist for some reason and it's connected to Cayena's destiny. In order to gain magic you must give some of your lifespan to the Black Garden, which also keeps the Immortal Archmage alive etc.

Cayena offers her whole life. She doesn't die. She isn't going to die later. This is just said for dramatic effect. Lame.

We enter the goth aesthetic garden and suddenly I felt dread. My dread was proven correct. Cayena falls into a coma for a little, and she wakes up with magic.

How much magic?

Alot.

So...where do we go from here? The Archmage will obviously be her tutor...wait...no...she's already able to use magic... without any training...

....

....

Fuck you.

That's BORING.

The sheer laziness is astounding. We know this author is a good author. The drama written in season one was tight. It highlighted the mad dash for power due to the Emperor's failing health. It cleverly showed off just how hard manipulating the crazy prince is.

What does this do?

Bang. Problem solved. That's what it does. Ugh!!!!

Like I mentioned earlier none of the new characters have any bite. They are no threat to Cayena, or they're boring. The first set of villains was a homicidal yandere, a sociopathic brother, and a lukewarm love interest that needed to be won over through political bargaining. Now the yandere has been disposed of. The brother can be blown up with magic, and the love interest is a generic devoted puppy type guy.

In the beginning I thought this was a near ten out of ten for the genre. I thought it was right behind Remarried Empress. It did not take any shortcuts. It made politics damn interesting. The art is top notch, and despite being a princess Cayena didn't have any plot breaking special powers.

Now...after sixty chapters of build up she does. I will be dropping this one. Thank you next.

I was downright bored reading the most recent chapters. This dude won't shut up about how innocent and greed-free Cayena is...when she's been morally grey since the beginning. Blah, blah, blah Cayena you're so special...

What editor did this!!!? Why???

I just wanna talk!!! Maybe with a baseball bat in hand!!!! Agh!

Keep reading if you got invested in season 1.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome isekai #isekai #The Villainess Is A Marionette

[hughjidiot]

How Marcy was Handled in Amphibia Season 3

Yup, doing another one of these again because I’ve been thinking a lot about this subject. I still plan on doing a big essay after Amphibia about how both Sasha and Marcy being sidelined negatively affected the narrative as a whole, but right now I wanna talk specifically about Marcy in season 3. Usual disclaimer: this is just my opinion, fine if you disagree, blah blah blah.

This might be one of the most divisive takes I’ve ever had but screw it, I’m gonna say it: it feels like the crew took the easy way out by having Marcy in coma and then possessed for 90% of season 3.

Think about what Anne and Sasha went through in season 3B. When they reunited there was still some awkwardness and tension between them, which Anne and Sasha both had to work through. Then for the rest of the season they’re doing their best to work together, showing how much both of them have changed for the better and how much better their relationship can be as a result. It was basically a transition period in their friendship.

But to me, it all felt incomplete without Marcy. And because they chose to make Darcy an endgame villain and rescue Marcy with only the finale left to go, there likely won’t be any transition period like Anne and Sasha got with each other. As soon as she’s rescued the girls instantly forgive her, no tension to be seen because of everything Marcy has already been through.

Now I’m not saying that wasn’t an incredibly touching moment, because it was. I’m also not trying to say that Marcy doesn’t deserve forgiveness, because she does; in both Olivia and Yunan and her mindscape sequences in All In that she’s genuinely sorry for trapping them all in Amphibia and then lying about wanting to get them home. And we clearly see that Anne and Sasha do want to forgive her, even if Sasha was still a little hesitant.

All I’m saying is that after what Anne and Sasha had to go through when they reunited, it feels a little cheap to not have them both go through the same awkward transition with Marcy, especially since her actions had the added weight of being the cause of their whole adventure.

The overarching theme of the Calamity Trio friendship subplot is the girls clearly love and care about each other, and are willing to work on overcoming their personal flaws to become better people for themselves, and for each other. To see Anne and Sasha actually have moments in 3B where they acknowledge things are still kind of messed up between them but still push on because their friendship is worth it. To not have the same moments with Marcy, instead just opting to have Anne and Sasha instantly forgive Marcy after she’s rescued just... doesn’t feel right.

If anyone reading this wants to refute any of these points, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post. I genuinely want to hear the community’s thoughts on if Marcy being pushed aside for 90% of season 3 was the right decision or not.

#hugh jidiot rambles #amphibia #amphibia season 3 #amphibia all in #amphibia spoilers #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu

[dangermousie]

Poor Efnan - not only is that insanity with Pierre is hanging over her head, now Aziz is staying in Galip’s house to watch over D (or more specifically make sure Egg Man doesn’t come in) who tried to abort her baby with Egg Man, Egg Man tried to strangle her on finding out, she is recovering from near miscarriage blah blah. And all her insecurity, all her jealousy is popping back up, as is evidenced by her nightmare. And I can’t blame her. She and Aziz just had a fight (tho they made up), they STILL haven’t banged because disasters keep happening, and D plain text told Efnan she still wants Aziz and that if she worked on it, Aziz would take her back (the latter is patently not true; all Aziz feels responsibility and guilt. And I don’t even think D loves him any more, but after being abused, memories of a nice ex are a shelter especially when you have no options.) I bet the scene of watching Aziz and D make love lives in Efnan’s head rent-free at those moments. It’s one thing to know your husband had an ex. It’s another to have seen him with her! To have seen him chase after her and bang her all the while you are pining unrequietedly.

And the morning after she wakes up from that nightmare is not any better...

Yup, it’s Aziz bringing D back to their house.  I am terribly tired of D’s character by now - I feel bad she’s living in her own Sen Anlat Karadeniz but I want her to find happiness and Egg Man to drown somewhere off my screen. I feel bad for her but I don’t find her in the least interesting or compelling. BUT! Narratively it all makes sense and such tension. Because Aziz knows Efnan would not want her there and she is not unreasonable to feel thus (what sane wife would; hell they had a fight over it, their first marital fight!) and Aziz feels zero love or attraction to her any more. But how could Aziz leave an abused woman who says she has nobody and who says she’s afraid if she stays with her in-laws they will try to get her to reconcile with her abuser (and she’s not wrong.) Aziz wouldn’t leave a dog under those circumstances let alone a woman he feels immense guilt toward because she married Egg Man in large part to protect him. But he knows he’s doing a bad thing to E and you can tell how defeated his posture is, how he bows his head.

He can’t even look at her straight on.

I love that he promises her he will solve this, that he couldn’t leave an abused woman who begged. It’s a mess but he’s really trying his best.

D says she will get a divorce, she lost the baby anyway but E knows that’s a lie (about the baby) and her fears are even worse and like. The OTP needs to talk but yet another and another disaster keeps falling and they don’t have the time, and I feel so bad.

And that really is the glue, isn’t it?

And then he tells her “I love you so much” and she responds in kind and it’s back to bliss for a few seconds but something tells me not for long.

#aziz #turkish tv

[sizablelad]

I saw your post in the tags and Im dying to know how you're getting on with 174 and beyond

...... is “i’m not” an acceptable answer?

#seriously though oscar was probably my favorite character (or of them) #and i’m very nervous that alex may just be playing with my emotions here and dangling the possibility of recovery #tbh it was kind of shocking but not unexpected? #like they had such a NICE couple weeks (i love that arc dearly) with NO conflict at all so it was bound to happen #blah blah blah narrative tension blah blah #i honestly have no idea what’s going to happen next and i’m STRESSIN #i’ve only just started with episode 175 right now SO WE’LL SEE #rqg #rqg 175 #speaking of i hope i’m not clogging up the main tag with my semi-live-blogging #i’m just trying to keep things a little more organized on my blog #rqg spoilers #hahaaaa forgot the spoilers tag whooOOops #ALSO very much avoiding the wiki which i sometimes use for mechanics and reminders and stuff because i’ve spoiled a lot of character stuff #for myself that way by virtue of characters being referred to in past tense and whatnot

[lesbiansforboromir]

i rewatched the fellowship of the ring last night and now i’m emotional. i love boromir so much why did he have to die

HE! DIDN’T!

#'narrative tension blah blah blah' KILL ARAGORN INSTEAD THEN JRRT #I said what I said #chats #Anonymous

[omar-rudeberg]

the music of young royals, vols. 1-17

This post highlights is the music of young royals, volumes 1-17, lovingly birthed by @starsabovetheunderground (and shared here with express permission). These are separate close analyses of the young royals soundtrack, encapsulating close character studies, audio aesthetics, lyric interpretations, and how each of the songs are simultaenously informed by and drive forward the narrative within which they occur. Each contains exceptional meta-analysis, delicately nuanced and summarised in a piece of gorgeously evocative prose.

I have listed each post below with a favourite moment lifted from the text (none of the quotes are mine). Share this post if you’re called to, but most importantly, please click through to read and like / reblog / reply to / share the original work!

«« »»

the music of young royals

vol. 1 | bad - farveblind, killason

we are being pulled into the underground and the world of young royals with a mission to escape.

vol. 2 | wannabe ghetto - fata boom

battling the beat is the revving engine of erik's sports car.

vol. 3 | it takes a fool to remain sane - omar rudberg

acknowledging just how difficult this must be for wilhelm ... telling him, in fact, going crazy is the only response that makes sense.

vol. 4 | i see you - nadia tehran

to be a public figure like a royal is to be living in a fishbowl (or, using the metaphor from young royals, a frog prince snow globe) and exposed for viewing at all angles.

vol. 5 | blah blah blah - armin van buuren

once again we’re pulled into the underground, but this time the mission is not to escape. this time the mission is to survive...

vol. 6 | hands up high - adele roberts, jacob blair, gabriella chering, charlie tenku

if simon's voice is the powerful melody that comes through clear over the noise then these lyrics are a sign for wilhelm to keep turning up the dial.

vol. 7 | no tomorrow - ty frankel, stephane lo jacomo, myariah summers

but the songs of the second episode belong to felice ... can be read as an expression of the expectations for felice to get wilhelm’s attention and perhaps one day become a princess.

vol. 8 | alpha - yung titties

there is still an opulent confidence that accompanies the power of money. that money begets cultural capital begets more money.

vol. 9 | come to play -  andrey tatarinov, ty frankel, nathan bodiker

wilhelm must decide if he wants to make a break for it with simon or surrender all hopes of escape resigned to his gilded cage.

vol. 10 | äter upp dig - maxida märak

for what is supposed to be a moment of happy family reunions, there is a lot of unspoken tension just below the surface.

vol. 11 | holes - zhala, deep throat choir

...that state of isolation wilhelm is frozen in. the wind blows through his life, but the breeze echoes off the canyon walls freshly carved by the loss of the solid foundation from erik's presence that was once there.

vol. 12 | remember - omar rudberg

this song has a fascinating dual meaning of being both a memorial and a ballad. the remembrance is for erik, but being written into history is for wilhelm.

vol. 13 | revolution - elias, no. 1

there's the beauty of their love returning to the surface, but it still means setting a fire and feeling the heat as it burns.

vol. 13 | revolution - elias, no. 2

young royals uses beauty and love as a way to enter a revolutionary consciousness, where wilhelm and simon's connection becomes a way to push out of the past and into the future.

vol. 14 | live and die - gina dirawi

all that [wilhelm] has left is worship at the altar of the only god he has found: the love he feels for simon. ((not that I’m picking favourites, but if you’re going to read just one? for goodness sakes let it be this one - Lili x))

vol. 15 | sunday - gina dirawi

wilhelm is being cast down not only for refusing to kneel to the crown, but for kneeling in love before simon. ((...and this one - Lili x))

vol. 16 | impatient - duvchi

the meaning is to be impatient, but the way the song echoes the ending of the word as “patient” doubly communicates the opposite. this patience vs. impatience manifests immediately ... it’s wilhelm's impatience against simon's patience.

vol. 17 | samurai swords (acoustic) - highasakite

this song is the lone one that belongs to august. he wants to inflict as much damage on wilhelm as immediately as he can, even if that means burning the bridge. even if it means burning the palace.

#young royals #theyoungroyalsrevolution #starsabovetheunderground #young royals analysis #young royals music #fata boom #omar rudberg #nadia tehran #zhala #elias #gina dirawi #duvchi #highasakite #(this writing is everything I'm trying to achieve with my analysis but I'm continually foiled by run-on sentences and no clear through-line #(also if you have ideas of work for me to feature - or if you have a series/creation you would be happy with me sharing let me know!) #music #analysis #oh my that's rude(berg) #mine

[faintingheroine]

Thoughts on Firdevs?

She is interesting, because on the one hand, Good For Her, live your best life sis. But on the other hand, she is a terrible person?

I think she is most interesting when you think of her and Adnan side by side. Both of their names mean “Heaven” and they are the widowed parents of the protagonists. They are the counterparts of each other and the book opens with Firdevs’s hopes about Adnan. The book is not shy about how grotesque a coupling Bihter-Adnan pairing is. Firdevs is judged for her life style by everyone (including by the narrative voice) whereas Adnan is five years older than Firdevs and marries her daughter. And the book is basically the disastrous results of that marriage.

They are contrasts as parents too. Bihter wants to put her mother and past behind but can’t, Nihal wants to regain her connection with her father.

Firdevs’s supposed sexual immorality is also interesting. Bihter and her mother are different because Bihter feels shame, but we don’t actually know for sure that Firdevs ever went as far as Bihter. She is condemned for her flirtatious behavior, there isn’t anything concrete that is talked about her. She is a lot more competent than Bihter.

I like her being a scheming bitch honestly. While I feel bad for Bihter ofc, Firdevs probably didn’t choose to be a mother, and reading her being a shady duo with Behlül is a delight. Everyone else in the book is so complex and melancholic that it is just fun for her to be a flamboyant bad mother figure.

Nihal and Firdevs are kind of linked as unlikely allies? They are the two people devastated by the Adnan-Bihter marriage at the beginning of the book and they inadvertently band together to ruin it at the end. Robert Finn also notes how they are linked together through the color yellow: Firdevs dyes her hair blonde, Nihal is a natural blonde. Firdevs famously lives in the “tiny yellow yalı”, Nihal often wears yellow. It is debatable whether this means anything, but it is interesting.

Lastly, I don’t judge the narrative voice too heavily for condemning Firdevs and here is why: The same narrative voice tells that all women have an “empty cradle” in their hearts while talking about Mlle de Courton, but Firdevs stands there as the refutation of that very idea! The book’s female characters and Behlül’s (and occasionally the narrative voice’s) assumptions about them are constantly in tension. Behlül or the narrative voice will make an assumption about the nature of Womanhood and Femininity but the book’s female characters constantly defy that voice through their complexity. So I think it is actually good that Firdevs is an unrepentant bitch, it would be worse if she “secretly loved her daughters” blah blah…

Some girls just wanna have fun.

#aşk ı memnu #aşk-ı memnu #firdevs #asks

[speechlessxx]

Naïveté (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Summary: Ransom loves control and his sweet, innocent plaything doesn’t know better. 

Warnings: DARKish Ransom with hints of soft Ransom but not really, this fic is lowkey a mess, a little uncomfortable situations, unprotected sex, implied AGE GAP, angst, mutual obsession, choking, Ransom is a little off (but what’s new), Sugar Daddy/Baby relationship, innocent reader, implied Dom/Sub dynamic, loss of virginity, poorly written attempt at SMUT

Word Count: 4.7k

Please do not read if anything makes you uncomfortable. 

READ WARNINGS

This is my first time writing smut. Please don’t hate me. 

Something a little different from what I usually write (?)

“You’re not going to see him again, are you?” your friend, Joey, asked you. Worried, judgmental lines sprinkled across his young face as he stared at you. You frowned and shook your head as you brought the straw of your iced coffee to your lips. “Good.” He muttered. “That guy was a creep.”

“He's not that bad,” you argued. 

“(Y/N), he was the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to you,” Joey scoffed as he drank his drink. “I’m just glad you kicked him to the curb before things got too intense.” 

You stayed silent and nodded, taking another sip from the straw. Joey began to talk about your friend group’s evening plans to hit up this bar, but your mind was taking you somewhere else.

You couldn’t tell Joey the truth. It’d disappoint him. It would anger him and jeopardize your friendship. 

But you couldn’t admit that Ransom Drysdale had a hold on you, and you didn’t want him to let go.

As an aspiring writer, you were interning at Blood Like Wine Publishing under Ransom’s uncle, Walt Thrombey. In a twisted turn of events, Walt took a liking to you.

Your doe-eyes and bright optimism intrigued him. He always fluttered around you like a moth to a flame and always had off-putting conversations with you.

It started with his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them in a way that made you uneasy. Then, it was pushing your hair to the side to expose the back of your neck, or his hands that would slither down to the small of your back. Everything about the man made you uncomfortable, but you’d never spoke out against it in fear of losing your internship. 

One day, Walt invited you over to his grandfather’s manor. “A family party,” he explained. And though you were afraid of accepting – calling it an intrusion – Walt insisted. “A chance to meet a world-renowned author,” he said. How could you refuse?

You met Ransom at that party. From the moment you walked through the doors, he knew he had to have you. He was a brat that way.

Walt was too preoccupied with arguing with his father to introduce you to the family. So, you kept to yourself, finding sanctuary in Harlan’s nurse, Marta, who looked just as out of place as you did. 

Unbeknownst to either of you, Ransom was listening in on your conversation – stalking you as if you were his prey.

Marta had explained to you that she was very fortunate to work with Harlan and that he was a kind man. Ransom couldn’t help but rolled his eyes when Marta had brought up how she and his grandfather were great friends. Blah, blah, blah, he thought as she droned on.

Then, he heard you open up about yourself. 

About how your scholarship was barely covering your tuition and how you were too late to apply to housing, so you had to live off campus in a ratty apartment whose rent was too much to handle on a monthly basis. You told Marta about how your part-time job at the local coffee shop next to campus was barely paying you enough for groceries, let alone the rest of your expenses.

The gears inside Ransom’s devious mind began to turn as a plan started to form in his head.

When Marta had been whisked away into a conversation about immigration with his father, Ransom found the perfect opportunity to meet you.

“I’m Ransom,” he introduced.

“(Y/N),” you greeted, offering your hand. He took it and brought it to his lips. Your cheeks flushed. Where all the Thrombey men this welcoming - this comfortable?Ransom smirked at your reaction.

Similar to his uncle, his hand found its way to the small of your back as he maneuvered you to the back door. Perhaps, it was simply a Thrombey gesture?

It was easy to navigate through a conversation with you. You were a good listener, Ransom was a great talker. The conversation went by smoothly as Ransom droned on and on about himself (something he was really good at). 

“I have too much money. I don’t know what to do with myself,” Ransom had joked, steering the conversation in his favor.

You chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I wish I had that problem.” Ransom responded with a hum, encouraging you to open up about your financial troubles (though he knew it all from eavesdropping earlier).

“I think I have the perfect solution to both our troubles,” Ransom proposed. 

And the rest was history. 

-=+=-

No one close to you knew the exact extent of the relationship. You tried to create the narrative that you met Ransom through Walt and the relationship just blossomed.

You were embarrassed to admit that Ransom was paying your rent, tuition, and giving you a weekly allowance that helped you get by.

Joey had even joked that working for the Thrombeys was changing you when he noticed your sudden change in labels. You had forgone the Forever 21 sales section and wore the luxury brands that Ransom deemed worthy to be draped over his angel.

When your friends met Ransom - the man keeping you afloat by sharing his own riches – they knew something was up. Though they didn’t have a clue about the financial aspect of the relationship, they knew that Ransom was bad news.

They’d tell you he stared at you like a piece of meat. He’d watch your every move as if he were engraving your very image in his mind. Joey would tell you he didn’t like the way Ransom had a grip on you every time you were together. 

“He’s possessive and not in a cute way,” Joey warned you, but you shrugged him – and all your friends – off.

You’d tell them that Ransom loved you... But were you trying to convince them or yourself?

Your friends saw through Ransom. They saw how he was taking advantage of your innocence and your naivete.

When you told Ransom of your friends’ opinions, he told you to ignore it, so you did. But as time went on, it was clear that their reluctance to be accepting of the relationship bothered you. You blamed it on the age difference. (You were still in college and Ransom was in his mid-thirties). But it was more than that and your friends didn’t quite know how to explain it to you. You were just so in love with the guy - who were they to dictate your love life? They just cared about your well being. 

So, Ransom commanded that you lie to everyone. “Tell them we broke up,” Ransom told you. “Just a fib to get them off your back.” When you showed reluctance, Ransom said with pleading eyes, “do it because I love you.”

You were always too trusting for your own good.

But you couldn’t see that. You saw Ransom as your white knight – your savior. He made sure whatever balance your scholarship left was paid for. He even got you out of that ratty apartment and into a better one that was worth the expensive rent. It was closer to campus, too, so you didn’t have to ride the bus. He kept you fed and clothed. Ransom kept you afloat. 

You were afraid to let him go – afraid that his interest would fade, and another girl would be the apple of his eye. What would happen to you then? So, you tried to become everything Ransom wanted. You depended on him after all...

Just like he planned it.

-=+=-

The ride was silent. The text on your phone read Harlan’s manor. Need you here. NOW.

The driver asked you if you wanted him to turn on the radio. He was just as eager to ease the tension, so you gladly obliged. When he arrived at the family manor, he even told you, “good luck, miss.”

You gave him a nervous smile. What were you stepping into? (And were you prepared for the aftermath?).

You didn’t bother to knock on the door. He was already waiting outside for you. A cigarette in his hand. You frowned as he extinguished it against the brick wall.

“Ransom, hey,” you offered him a smile.

He didn’t return it. He had a scowl on his face and something on his mind. His face scrunched up in aggravation. He only gave you a hard stare. His blue eyes staring at you in the dark night.

He eyed you up and down. You wore a white lace dress from whatever designer (he didn’t care). He liked white on you and you knew that. It made you look like an angel – his angel. A symbol of purity – something you naturally were.

“You’re late,” he said. His voice was hard, matching the expression etched on his face. Hard and disapproving.

“I… I was with Joey,” you explained. “He was getting suspicious, so we went on a coffee date – “

“Did I ask?” Ransom snapped. “It’s part of the agreement. You make yourself available to me 24/7. That’s why I pay you so much.” You gulped as you adverted your eyes, unable to hold his angry glare for too long. He let out a sigh and held out his hand. You glanced at him, uncertainty written all over your face. “I’m not going to wait forever, (Y/N).”

“Sorry,” you muttered and took his hand. Ransom pulled you to him. His lips smashed against yours and you cringed at the faint smell of smoke.

You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away – trying to catch your breath. But his grip tightened. “Kiss back,” he muttered into the kiss, growing impatience at your insubordination. Reluctantly, you did as you were told. After long minutes of the uncomfortable session, he pulled away and eyed you again. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice hushed. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Why’d you asked me to come?”

“I was bored,” he shrugged. What he didn’t say was, there’s a situation I can’t handle, so I need something I can control around me or else I’ll lose my mind.

“So, I’m entertainment?” you joked, nervously. He laughed a bit. You looked into the house through the windows. You could hear faint chatter and cheers of happy birthday. “It’s someone’s birthday?” you asked.

“Harlan’s,” Ransom nodded.

“Oh, I should probably pop in and – “you began walking towards the door.

“Don’t,” Ransom ordered through clenched teeth, and you froze in your tracks. Your hand was grazing the cool metal of the doorknob. You pulled your hand away and walked back to stand in front of Ransom. “Good girl,” he muttered, an arm slinging itself around your waist. “We should get out of here.” He whispered, stealing another kiss from your sweet lips.

“My friends are at this bar tonight,” you offered. “We could stop by.”

“And let them know we’re seeing each other again?” Ransom laughed, dryly. “I’d rather not let them turn you against me.”

“No one could ever do that,” you assured him.

“Let’s go to my place,” Ransom muttered. “Something I want to show you.” He said as he nipped at the exposed skin of your neck. You yelped in surprise as a strange feeling shot through you.

Ransom has invited you over once or twice before. Most of your outings usually ended with him dropping you off at your apartment. He didn’t normally offer to take you to his place or swing by. The offer was spontaneous – different.

You smiled and nodded, not wanting to piss him off more than he already was.

He led you to his Beamer. The ride was silent, and Ransom didn’t bother to try to ease the tension. No music. No conversation. Just a hand that rubbed the inside of your thigh in a manner that unsettled you.

Sure, Ransom was handsy at times, but he kept his distance from your most intimate areas. He’d always had to have a hand on your waist or your hand gripped in his. The most he’s ever done to make you uncomfortable was when he wrapped his hand around your neck to keep you from turning away when he kissed you. That was it.

In truth, Ransom saw you like a delicate doll. Such purity and innocence should be maintained. But tonight, Ransom was losing control – his chat with Harlan left him spiraling. 

The only thing he still had control over was sitting in the passenger seat of his car.

-=+=-

His home was just as you remembered it. Large windows, large spaces, large rooms. It was clean, for the most part. A few clothing items discarded on the floor, some hung on chairs. He shrugged off his dark grey cardigan and hung it on one of the chairs, joining the other clothes.

Ransom led you straight into his kitchen. He fetched a beer and a bottle of water. You were never much of a drinker. Ransom knew that. He stared at you as you wrapped your lips around the bottle’s opening and drank it carefully. He was still deciding – trying to make up his mind.

Should he ruin his little plaything now? Or shall he wait?

“You said you wanted to show me something?” You asked.

He nodded. “It can wait.” He walked over to you. You were leaning against his kitchen island. He plucked the bottle from your hand, placing it to the side along with his beer, and brought his hands to your hips.

“Rans – umph!” You yelped as he effortlessly lifted you up onto the counter. “What are you doing?” You asked him with a small, nervous laugh. Your face heated up as each of his hands settled to both of your knees and spread them. When you tried to fight against his grips, Ransom just slotted his waist between your legs. “Ransom?” You asked as he placed one hand on your waist and the other at the back of your neck. He hummed quietly. His eyes didn’t meet yours. They simply stared are your lips. “What cha doin’ there?”

He didn’t respond. He captured your lips with his and you were too stunned to react, so you simply mirrored his actions.

Sometimes Ransom got like this. Sometimes he wouldn’t talk and he’d just assume you’d read his mind. But tonight, your minds weren’t in unison.

You were under the impression he just needed physical contact (which was true). You thought he just needed comfort and you were more than willing to give it to him.

But tonight, Ransom wanted something much more than simple kisses and a few touches.

You tried to pull away to catch your breath, but Ransom pulled you back. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting entrance, but you refused him. So, in retaliation, Ransom yanked your hair which made you yelp. He took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. He didn’t need to fight for dominance. You just sat there with your mouth open, unsure of what to do – unsure of how to react. He had never been physical with you – he had never tried to hurt you.

The kiss was heated. You wished it were passionate or loving, but it wasn’t that. It was something else entirely.

Desperate to catch your breath, you bit on his tongue. It was a mistake. One that you’d pay for. But you were desperate.

He pulled away suddenly. “What the fuck!” He snapped.

“I’m – I’m sorry, Ransom – I just,” you stammered, unable to explain yourself. “I – I couldn’t breathe. I’m sorry, Ransom.”

Your eyes finally met. His bright blue eyes were dark like the night sky. And it was then you understood what Joey and all your friends told you. He stared at you like he was starved and you were the only thing on the menu.

“You little, ungrateful bitch,” Ransom spat. One of his hands wrapped firmly around your throat, tightening slightly and cutting off your oxygen. “You breathe when I let you. You live because I let you. The clothes you wear, the food you eat, the fucking apartment you live in – it’s all because I gave it to you. You could at least show some appreciation.” 

His grip tightened until you could see tiny black dots peppering your vision. And then suddenly, Ransom let go.

You fell forward into Ransom. Your head in the crook of his neck and hands on his shoulder. You were coughing and sputtering out apologizes, unsure of what else to tell him.

“You’re gonna show me some appreciation, baby,” he cooed but his voice was nowhere near comforting. It was taunting. “Alright?” You nodded. “Okay, c’mon,” he hoisted you up. Panicked, you wrapped your arms around him and your legs around his torso, afraid he would drop you. “I got you, sweet angel… I got you.”

You weren’t sure where he was taking you until you were laid on soft, satin sheets. You opened your eyes and saw Ransom standing at the foot of the bed. He pulled his sweater from his body and you felt your jaw drop. Why would he hide his toned physique beneath sweaters? It was a mystery to you.

He smirked when he caught you ogling him. He was always so cocky.

“How?” you murmured. He cocked an eyebrow up at you. “How am I going to show you?”

Ransom’s smirk widened as he reached down for you. His fingers lightly traced the neckline of the dress. “I think you know,” he muttered. 

Your heart thudded against your chest in realization. You tried to scoot away from him, but Ransom leaned his body forward, encaging you.

“You don’t want to make me mad, baby, do you?” He whispered, his tone still taunting. His hot breath against your ear. You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Good. Because I don’t think you want me to take away all the nice things I’ve given you, right?” You nodded. “Take off the dress for me.” He ordered, releasing you.

You did as you were told, not wanting to make him angry. His breath hitched when you revealed yourself to him. He always knew you were beautiful. The idea of you being untouched – unclaimed – made blood flow straight to his member.

His expert fingers made quick work of your bra clasp. He discarded your brassiere along with his sweater and tutted at you when your hands instinctively went to cover yourself up. He pried your hands away from your chest. 

“Don’t cover yourself up, angel,” he told you, leaning forward and leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses down your neck. He kissed the bruises that were forming from his grip moments ago. He scolded himself for damaging the delicate skin of his angel.

He kissed down your collarbones and found his way to your breasts. He took his time worshiping your body. There was no rush (the night was still young). 

As his lips worked on one of your mounds, his fingertips toyed with the other. You couldn’t hold back the moans that were escaping you and the heat that presented itself in between your legs. 

Everything was so foreign to you. All you could do was toy with the hair on the back of Ransom’s head and moan his name.

He moved one of his hands to cup your clothed sex. He felt the increasingly dampening spot through the delicate material and moaned against your nipple. He stared up at you as he continued his assault. Your eyes were closed tightly and your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you continued to let out soft moans. The sound going straight to his crotch.

In one swift motion, Ransom was able to pull your underwear down your legs. The material fell to the floor and he kicked it to join the rest of the discarded clothing. He pulled away from you to admire your body, splayed out on his bed like an offering. Your cunt glistening in the pale moonlight, calling his name. He fumbled with his belt as he shoved his slacks along with his boxer briefs down.

Your eyes finally opened and were met with the intimidating appendage. Long and thick. Fear suddenly flooded through you. It wouldn’t fit. Was this worth it? Was surrendering your virginity to Ransom – your white knight, your savior – worth the luxury? Worth the money?

“Don’t be scared, angel,” Ransom muttered as he leaned over you. You were shaking. He shushed you as you thrashed around. “I give you so many things, baby girl,” he said lowly, his voice turning into a growl. “At least give me this in return.”

You sniffled before nodding. You were afraid though you weren’t sure what frightened you more. The menacing crazed look on Ransom’s beautiful face or the fear that you were about to lose your virginity.

Ransom’s hands traced the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. And then one of his hands carefully rubbed against your folds, finding your clit expertly. You felt your muscles clench. He rubbed it in tight circles, causing electricity to run through you. 

As much as Ransom was eager to be inside of you, he didn’t want to hurt his angel. He had to prep his sweet, innocent angel. He wanted his angel to enjoy this.

Your breathing was shaky as you slowly gave into the feeling. He shifted in his position and carefully thrusted two fingers into your cunt. You gasped at the sudden intrusion. You threw your head back as he stroked your inner walls, exploring your untried canal.

“You’re wet, angel, and we barely begun,” Ransom said ever so cockily. You moaned in response. No words could form. You tried to bite onto your bottom lip, trying to silence yourself. But Ransom tutted at you. He slapped your clit and you yelped in surprise. “I want to hear every sound.” He ordered before scissoring your opening, attempting to stretch you open. The wet, slick sounds accompanied by your moans were all too addicting to the man that hovered over you.

You felt helpless and pathetic. You were putty in his hands. He felt you clench around his fingers when he curled them, brushing against a certain spot. He smirked as he continued to play with that spot and thrusted a third finger into you. You mewled against him as your hands fisted the satin sheets.

“Ran – Ransom,” you panted, eyes watery. “Something’s – something’s happening…” you moaned as you felt a coil within your stomach snap. You screamed as your orgasm crashed through you. Ransom smirked watched you drip around his hand. He pulled away from your pussy and your eyes widened as he slowly brought his fingers to his lips and sucked away your juices.

“Want a taste?” he asked you. You didn’t respond as he brought one of his fingers and brushed it against your lips. He then leaned down and stole another hungry kiss, sharing your taste.

While you were distracted from your previous orgasm and from the kiss, Ransom pumped his member and lined it up with you.

Catching you off guard, he pushed in. You shuddered in pain, pulling your lips away from him as your eyes widened in pain. The stretch itself was unbearable.

He pushed his tip in and you nearly shrieked. “Ransom – “you whimpered. “It hurts – It hurts!”

Ransom simply shushed you and kissed your lips. “Relax, angel… just relax for me.” You tried to do as you were told but found it quite difficult. He continued to push in inch by inch and you were afraid he was never-ending. “You’re so tight,” he murmured against your lips. You bit your lip as tears started to prick in your eyes.

And finally, he bottomed out. You had never felt so full. You swore you could feel him in your stomach. 

Ransom looked down to where you were both connected and groaned. He loomed over your body as you willed your muscles to relax around him. “Hey, hey,” he said, softly, using one of his hands to turn you to face him. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he praised and began to pull out.

His strokes were gentle. Pulling out only a few inches before thrusting back in. Only when the pain begun to dull and your whimpers turned into moans again, did Ransom pick up the pace. The slapping of skin and his groans. Everything started to feel cloudy. You felt as if he were tearing you apart, but your body welcomed the pain that was turning into pleasure.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you hung onto him as he ravaged you. You continued to mewl and moan into his neck as you felt the same coil in your stomach tighten. Your walls clenched around Ransom and he knew you were close again. He reached back down to your clit and rubbed it again.

“C’mon, baby, come for me,” Ransom urged you as he thrusted. He thrusted all the way in and grinded against your sex. You moaned as you tensed, the coil bursting once again. Ransom groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, milking him and throwing him off the edge with you. He filled you up with his thick cum, but he continued to pump into you, painting your walls – marking you as his.

You were a breathless, sweaty mess as he pushed you into another orgasm with his thrusts. You were convulsing and twitching underneath him, fighting to stay conscious. You felt Ransom pull out completely and felt your mixed juices drip from your pussy. Your vision was hazy as your head turned to the side, eyes fluttering close.

Ransom winced when he looked down. Your blood covered his length and was splattered all over your lower body. He sighed and looked at the clock. It was late, but he knew that there would still be guests over at the house. It was the perfect time, especially with you falling asleep.

“You did so good for me, angel,” he whispered to your sleeping body as he wiped your blood away with his sweater. He decided that he’d deal with the bloodstained sheets when he returned. You were most likely still going to be knocked out. 

He pressed a kiss to your lips and smiled. Even in sleep – even after being fucked – you still looked like an angel.

When you awoke, the sheets had been changed but you were still stark naked. Daylight was trickling through the windows. Ransom emerged from the bathroom door. “You’re awake,” he smiled wickedly at you. You returned a shy smile when you realized he was only in a towel with water droplets painting his Adonis-like body. You looked away as he dressed himself. He smirked. You were still bashful as if the night before he wasn’t buried deep inside of you.

“Did you leave?” you ask. Your heart dropped at the thought.

He shook his head and relief washed over you as he sat next to you on the bed. His finger gently traced your jaw before leaning in to give you a kiss. “I was here all night, all morning, too,” Ransom lied. “You’ll attest to that right?”

“What?”

“I cleaned you up after we had sex,” Ransom told you. “Changed the sheets and then held you throughout the night. I told you I loved you and I thanked you for allowing me to be the first - and only - man inside of you .”

“Right.” You nodded, blushing at his words.

“I didn’t leave you, angel.” Ransom promised. “I was with you all night, all morning.”

-=+=-

“Where was Mr. Drysdale the night of his grandfather’s death?” the prosecutor asked you.

You looked around the courtroom and met Ransom’s blue eyes. He gave you a small nod, knowing you won’t let him down. He did this all for you – so that he can continue taking care of you – after all.

“Uh,” you muttered into the microphone, “he was with me… at his house.”

“Mr. Drysdale’s statement says that he asked you to join him at the manor the night of Harlan Thrombey’s birthday party, yet no one in the family saw you?”

You nodded. “Ransom – Hugh – was already outside when I arrived. I wanted to go inside, but he told me not to and he asked if I’d accompany him to his house.”

“So, you can account to Mr. Drysdale’s whereabouts the whole night?” The prosecutor prompted. “There were no times that he stepped out? Even when you were asleep?”

You nodded. “He was with me all night, all morning, too.”

Ransom smiled at you when you met his eyes. Good girl. He thought. His sweet little angel still under his control.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #steve rogers smut #dark fic #dark ransom drysdale #dark steve rogers #dark ransom drysdale smut #dark steve rogers smut #naivete

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

So I watched 10.09 recently, and it has that part where Dean tells a story about him basically being almost roofied as a teen, but somehow it ends up framed as the funny joke and yet another proof that John "did what he could", and I kind of hate this? And it's the same episode in which MoC!Dean killed guys that kidnapped and tried to rape Claire, and you'd think writers would've addressed the parallels and acknowledge that Dean could've been triggered by this situation. 1/2

2/2 But in the end, it's never addressed, and the whole situation is framed as the proof that Dean is evil now. And I'm not even sure what I am trying to say, but with that being the show's approach back in s10, I'm not surprised about the finale anymore. Guess we should've known?

That’s an excellent angle to look at the issue because the Mark of Cain arc is a clear example of how people with different experiences will see the same thing in wildly different ways. There’s this phase of season 10 where everyone is like “oh no Dean is Getting Worse” and when you look at what Dean is doing... you actually go “...good for him”.

Let’s give Caesar what belongs to Caesar. It’s not “the writers” in this case, it’s Dabb. Plenty of other writers don’t fall into this John apologism thing. Just look at how the episode before Lebanon, written by Buckner and Ross Leming, says that sometimes John would temporarily kick Dean out because he was “pissed at him” despite Dean always taking his side to mantain the peace. It almost seems like a statement to sprinkle some salt given what Dabb does in Lebanon, you know? Maybe not, but there is a tension between “John was shitty” writers and “John did his best” writers.

In hindsight, we gave Dabb too much of the benefit of the doubt. We were like, weeell, that’s supposed to be way the characters perceive the truth, which is distorted by the trauma... But now it’s obvious that he truly believed in the John-did-his-best version. He brought him back and got Mary back with him. No matter what happened to the finale, the network didn’t print those pictures of John and Mary to hang on Sam’s wall. He never took Dean’s abuse seriously and it shows.

The “anedocte” of Dean getting drugged and “saved” by John from being raped is obviously there to parallel him with Claire. Which works! It’s so weird because it’s like. You are soooo close to getting the point. Younger Dean was assaulted just like this teenage girl is assaulted and Dean saves her... but apparently John yelling at those people is a good way of dealing with the issue, while murdering child traffickers is an overraction thus bad.

That’s the problem, isn’t it? That Dean’s murder spree is framed as an overreaction. Sam is like “tell me you had to do this! tell me it was you or them!” - the answer to which (by the narrative) is obviously no, it wasn’t self defense, he just killed them because he could. He just murdered those men for no reason except he felt like being murdery. And the audience is supposed to be like “oh no! Dean is murdery for no reason except for murderiness! That’s bad!”.

But it’s a power fantasy, isn’t it? Going on a murder spree on rapists and traffickers. I bet any people who’s been violated like that has fantasized of doing the exact thing Dean does here. Killing them all.

Dean had the physical strength and skill to kill them all, why shouldn’t he kill them? (I mean, in real life I’m against private justice because I’m a fan of the state of law, but the Supernatural universe obviously works on different principles than the state of law. Again, it’s a fictional narrative that plays out as a fantasy for the audience, so.)

So what was Dabb’s intention? I’m afraid it’s the worst one. “John Winchester’s not going to win any Number One Dad awards, you know? But, you know, damn if he wasn’t there when we needed him”. What the fuck, Dabb? It’s been established since season 1 that John WASN’T there when they needed him. Which... I’m afraid... leads us to the Cas-Claire plot in the episode. Cas has fucked off with Jimmy’s body leaving Claire on her own. Parallels how John wasn’t going to win wny Number One Dad awards. But! Cas is there when Claire Really Needs Him i.e. when she’s about to be raped by older men. Parallels how John was there when Dean Really Needed Him i.e. when he was about to be raped by older men.

I think the point is to say, Cas kinda sucked because he took Claire’s dad away but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Claire because he gets there in time to prevent her from being raped. Just like (ew) John kinda sucked as a father because hunting and stuff, but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Dean because he got there in time to prevent him from being raped.

It’s pretty yucky. Literally NOBODY wanted a parallel between Cas and John. But he made one. And he made one to absolve Cas from the guilt he carried for what he did to Claire (Claire’s mother is a mother so who fucking cares about her. She’s basically a Blurry Wife(TM), she’s only a tool for Claire’s arc, Cas apparently only cares about the harm he did the child, not the wife, for some reason.) and to absolve Cas from his guilt it absolves John too. Don’t worry, being a parent is hard. You often screw up. But you can *looks at smudged writing on hand* prevent the kid from being raped by predatory adults and everything’s fine now.

It’s not really important if the child suffered hunger or whatever, the only important thing is that they don’t get raped, because that’s bad, everything else is just a little detail.

All Dabb got with that scene was to paint Sam as extremely unsympathetic because he’s no longer a child, he’s a full adult now and still thinks of that episode at the CBGB as a funny story. That’s not a good look. It almost makes you think that the writer himself saw it as a funny story. Lol teenage boy biting more than he can chew. But then why the Claire parallel? The Claire scene onviously is not supposed to be anything but horrific. I'll give Dabb the benefit of the doubt on this specific thing.

It’s weird, yes, because Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon where he establishes that John was a bad husband/father even before tragedy hit the family. But apparently that’s the “not going to win any Number One Dad awards” part, I suppose? I guess he intended to write John as this flawed, ~complex~ figure who was imperfect but still brave and whatever blah blah did his best blah blah. I’m all for flawed complicated characters but a horrible father is a horrible father. A rose by any other name... parental abuse is still parental abuse even if the poor guy was complicated and traumatized and did what he thought he had to do to prepare his sons for a violent world.

Also, the story frames Dean’s escapade as a teenager being stupid. “You know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around looked at me and said, Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked.” “It’s my job to raise you right.” This seems straight from a novel about teenagers doing something stupid that they’re too young to realize that their parents are right to be against them doing. But this isn’t just... a parent walking into a bar to stop their child to drink alcohol. Dean literally describes feeling sick from something that was inside the alcohol.

Sure, it makes sense that he’d lash out to John because of the shame and shock. But the scene is... off. Are we supposed to see this as a typical teenage mistake? Are we supposed to read it as something as horrific as what happened to Claire, literally sold into rape? Or, worse, are we supposed to see what happened to Claire as a teenage mistake, ah silly teenager, blindly trusting shady people, no wonder you end up in a situation where you’d get raped if a father figure didn’t sweep in and save you. I hope that wasn’t the intent.

To get back to Dean’s Mark-of-Cain violence, the writers clearly didn’t intend it to come from the Darkness up to a certain point. It was supposed to an arc about your own inner darkness (consider the Charlie episode, a couple episodes later). Then they came up with the idea of The(TM) Darkness, the suppressed cosmic feminine. While it caused a bit of dissonance in the subtext, it doesn’t really change Dean’s narrative, because his inner darkness is the trauma, and his trauma is inherebtly tied to the “feminine” i.e. the parts of him that don’t fit seamlessly into the scheme of toxic masculinity values. That the violence that comes from the Mark of Cain comes from Dean himself and that’s it, or is connected to the Darkness, it doesn’t change what it means for Dean. Dean and Amara have parallel histories, the feminine principle locked away, the trauma the anger stems from.

In 10x09 we’re still in the Before The (TM) Darkness era, before the suppressed cosmic feminine. The Mark of Cain arc is still about... well, Cain. But the shift is the signal that someone looked at Dean’s arc and said... you know what? “Lucifer gave me this curse so now I’m demonic and murdery” is meh. “Toxic masculinity suppresses the feminine and it creates trauma which rage and violence comes from” is more interesting. I don’t know whose idea it was, but it was a good idea, and surely the idea came from seeing how Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding.

Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding in a certain way, in fact, because of a pretty simple reason. There’s a fundamental tension in Dean’s MoC arc. We want him to go murdery, but it’s also our main character, so we don’t want him to do really horrible things because he still needs to be relatable. The audience cannot hate him, so he must NOT do something entirely unforgivable. He still needs to be somewhat relatable, even when demonic or demonic-adjacent.

So he goes on a murder spree... but it’s rapists and child traffickers. He’s demon, but he kills a misogynistic dude that wanted his wife dead for cheating on him. He’s a demon, but beats up dudes that harass women. He does a slaughter, but they’re nazi. He’s off the deep end, but works a case of kidnapped and abused young women...

Speaking of which. 10x23, written by Jeremy Carver. Dean works a case where a girl was killed while dressed scantily and Dean makes some slut-shaming remarks, and we’re supposed to think “whoa Dean, that’s bad”. But later he confronts the girl’s father and what does he say?

I’m just doing my job, Mr. McKinley.

By suggesting my daughter was a slut?

I’ll admit that thought crossed my mind. Then I came here, and I smelled the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervade this home.

You shut your face right now.

And you know what? I don’t blame Rose anymore. No wonder she put on that skank outfit and went out there looking for validation, right into the arms of the monster that killed her.

Back then the episode was super controversial and everyone hated the case because of the apparent slut-shaming but I loved it! Because it’s not about the girl. It’s about Dean. Dean doesn’t think that a girl gets killed because she dresses in a miniskirt so it’s her fault. Dean is projecting on himself and he’s not actually victim blaming the girl, he’s victim blaming himself. And when he absolves the girl by putting the blame on the father... well, subtextually he’s absolving himself by putting the blame on his father. On the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervaded his own home. He’s textually not ready to absolve himself, of course, he summons Death to ask him to kill him later, but subtextually he’s on the right path.

Rose McKinley basically did the same mistake Dean did at the CBGB when he trusted some older people who offered him drinks and the same mistake Claire did when she trusted a man who sold her for money because he offered him a place and stability. She trusted the wrong people (in this case, vampires, which adds the whole subtext of vampires and sexuality) who took advantage of her. Except Rose had no one to save her. (Her friend, Crystal, gets rescued by Dean, even if he causes the other hunter Rudy to die in the process.)

Carver’s writing is pretty brutal. The girl made that mistake because was abused at home, so she was desperate for validation and that desperation drove her into the wrong hands. (Rose even has a brother who blames himself for bringing her sister to her future murderers, destructive sibling relationship check.) It doesn’t actually even matter if Dean guessed right about Rose’s family situation, because what matters is what it tells us about Dean. He basically relates to a dead abused girl. Actually all through the season Dean is paralleled to “skanks” “sluts” and sex workers. Obviously this happens kinda all through the show, the whole “the business is based on absent fathers” thing happened much earlier in the story, so it’s not new. But s10 draws a picture of female suffering - abuse, manipulation and death. Season 10 was difficult to go through. In hindsight, it was probably on purpose because it was supposed to be darkest hour of the feminine. Summed with some good old fashioned misogyny, but hey.

The Carver era was wonky but Carver wanted to free the feminine. (I believe that Mary’s comeback, while written by Dabb because of the showrunner shift, was planned before the showrunner shift.) We thought the Dabb era wanted the same, with Mary choosing life and Amara being independent and so on, but it evidently wasn’t the case. Not a single woman arrives at end of the story. It’s hardly ~Bucklemming or ~the network or ~covid because it starts before the very end.

I’m not saying that dead sluts are more feminist than living women, but if the women die or disappear anyway (and they did) I’d rather have an exploration of trauma than nothing. And I definitely prefer a dead slut narrative that calls out parental abuse than a narrative where women live but abuse gets the you-did-your-best treatment.

Whoops! I digressed! But feel free to ask for any clarification or send me any observation or thought.

#anon #my spn thoughts #season 10 #spn 10x09 #spn 10x23 #dean and john #parental abuse #john winchester's a+ parenting #mark of cain #demon dean #spn #i love talking about season 10 uh

[workingforitallthetime]

Wait so you made obsessed with Brendan and Matty plus the general Michigan ensemble but Im realising I don’t understand how the college hockey situation works - like what is the ultimate goal? Do they have playoffs? How does it work for them to win - and what is it that they win? Sorry for this bombardment 😬😬

welcome, anon! i am so glad i have enticed you in at this most glorious of times for umich hockey (i.e. mullet season.)

there are two parts to the postseason: conference tournaments, and the national championship. conference tournaments are happening now. in the big 10, which is michigan's conference, the quarterfinals were last weekend. our boys decisively swept their quarterfinal series against michigan state, and will play notre dame next weekend in the semifinals. they lost to notre dame four times this season -- the only big 10 team they haven't beaten -- so it would be really great for the Narrative if they could win this one. also, old pal landon slaggert has bedeviled them all year long and i expect fireworks.

if they win, they'll almost certainly play minnesota in the big 10 championship game on march 19. (minnesota should have no difficulty beating penn state in their semifinal matchup next weekend.) if they lose, that will suck but it will not affect their ability to compete for the ultimate goal of a national championship.

once the conference tournaments are complete, the NCAA selection committee announces at-large bids and seeding for the national championship. this is heavily if not entirely influenced by the pairwise rankings, which take into account winning percentage and strength of schedule blah blah blah boring here's a link if you want a detailed explanation. for our purposes, all you need to know is that umich has a very high ranking and will likely be a no. 1 seed.

sixteen teams are in the tournament, which consists of two rounds at regional sites and then the Frozen Four (the semifinals and finals in Boston.) here's a bracket with dates and locations. it's all single-elimination games! very stressful! as it has throughout the entire season, the narrative tension will center around whether the skilled but untested young guns of umich can beat older teams who have had a lot more time to build cohesion and postseason experience. it's gonna be a fun ride, anon, thanks for joining me!

#and then afterwards owen and matty will sign contracts and leave us :((((( #and probably at least one of kent/briss/luke will too #so we gotta make the most of this month

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

Obey Me: The Brothers Accidentally Trigger an Abused MC (Lucifer) (1/7)

Disclaimer: I’m not an expert on abuse or mental health. I’m not portraying how one should respond to these situations, only how I think the characters might. Abuse and trauma in particular are very complex topics, and people respond in all sorts of ways to them, and sometimes it gets really bad on all sides.

I can only draw from my personal experiences as well as those of people who have shared their stories or who I’m close with. There’s no one narrative of abuse and how it affects someone, so what I’m familiar with might not be what you’re familiar with. Let’s try and all be respectful of each other.

Content Warnings: Heated arguments, reference to past abuse, parental abuse, trauma response, breaking down in tears, this is quintessential hurt/comfort y’all, buckle up

First up is Lucifer! I will be writing similar scenarios for the other brothers, and they’ll get linked below once they’re done and posted.

Lucifer (You’re here) Mammon (X), Leviathan (X), Satan (X), Asmodeus (X), Beelzebub (X), Belphegor (X)

Becoming the embodiment of a sin is much like a curse. It takes a natural trait and amplifies it to absurdity, and there is nothing you can do to curb it. While the appetites caused by greed or gluttony or lust can be all-consuming, there is no sin more cruel to fall victim to than that of pride.

Lucifer sees how his brothers are affected by their sins and both pities and is disgusted by them. How low, to succumb to base urges like that. He could never do that. He’s better than that. He is in complete control of himself.

He has to be.

This attitude does not lend itself well to maintaining close personal relationships. When Lucifer gets stressed, his controlling tendencies get worse. He can’t handle another failure, not again, but he also can’t admit that he’s in over his head. His brothers know to steer clear of him when he gets like this.

MC does not.

They won’t stop bothering him, asking if he’s sure he’s okay, offering to help with this or that, and shooting him such pitiful looks when they think he’s not looking. He cares for them deeply, he truly does, but they’re still human. And the idea of a human pitying him is revolting.

“Lucifer, please, let me help, you look so-”

“What makes you think you know how I feel?” Lucifer’s wings snap open and the aura of tension around him becomes suffocating. “I am thousands of years old, and have lived through things you could not hope to understand. You think you have the right to even guess at what I’m feeling? You think you can help?“

“I-I’m sorry! I j-just-”

“Just what? Couldn’t help sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong again?“ Stop talking, you idiot, Lucifer thinks, but his mouth doesn’t comply. “Just stop wasting my time and go, MC!”

“I-”

“Leave.”

Lucifer’s posture, the anger in his voice, MC can’t help it. Eyes full of tears, they run out of his study, and don’t stop until they’re outside the House of Lamentation. They happen to breeze past a very confused Mammon, who follows them, only to find them curled up on the steps of the dormitory.

“MC? What’re ya doin’ out here, you shouldn’t be alone outside-” He notices their sobbing. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

For a few solid minutes, MC can’t manage anything more than fragments of words and hiccuping cries. Mammon holds them close, rubbing slow circles into their back and murmuring soothing platitudes until they calm down enough to explain.

They got into a fight with Lucifer. He’s been so stressed lately, and they just wanted to help, but he...

“Oh, I know exactly what he did,” Mammon frowns. “Said somethin’ stupid like ‘what makes you think a peon like you can understand the Troubling Complexities of I, Lucifer, the Avatar of blah blah blah’,” he flaps his hand as he talks, poorly mimicking Lucifer.

MC lets out a small giggle, but their smile quickly fades. “He got really mad at me... And it... brought up some bad memories.”

Mammon sobers up as well. “Do you...” he scratches the back of his head. “...do you wanna talk about it?”

~

Lucifer is drowning his feelings in paperwork when the door to his study bursts open and in flies a pissed off looking Mammon. He can barely get out a “Mammooooooon...” before his piles of completed work are pushed aside and the Avatar of Greed slams his hands on his desk.

“You got a lotta nerve, sittin’ there pencil-pushing after what you did!” Mammon snaps.

“As do you, barging into my room uninvited-”

“Oh, shut up, Lucifer!” The oldest brother’s eyes widen.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me! What makes you think you can talk to MC like that, huh?”

“...Oh.” The tension in Lucifer’s body changes from aggressive to almost meek.

“’Oh.’ Is that all you have to say?! Do you know how scared they were when I found them? They could barely speak! I thought someone had tried to kill them!” Each word might as well have been a punch in the gut.

MC had feared for their life. Because of him.

“I... I need to apologize to them,” Lucifer mutters, which does nothing to quell his brother’s anger.

“Like hell ya do! You better get on your knees and beg after what you did! Bringin’ up memories like that, sheesh...”

“What are you talking about?” Mammon freezes for a second, then scrambles backwards, the reality of what he’s doing starting to set in. “Mammon.”

“I-It’s not my place to tell ya...” he feels for the doorknob behind him, determined to get as much space between himself and Lucifer as possible just in case the latter fully processes the unspoken rules he’s so thoroughly violated. “You should ask MC about it.” He turns the handle and zips out the door with a SLAM!

Just as Lucifer relaxes, the door peeks open once more. “After you apologize!”

~

MC sits on their bed, contemplating their immediate future. They aren’t sure what to expect the next time they encounter Lucifer. More anger, perhaps, or a terse explanation about what was frustrating him so much that he lost his composure like that. Maybe he wouldn’t even mention their argument, or worse, he would say that he forgives them. Because that’s all they do: fuck up and stick their nose in other people’s business. They’re a useless, meddlesome brat who needs to be put in their place-

Someone is knocking on MC’s door.

Lucifer calls out from the other side, “MC, are you alone? I need to have a word with you. Privately.”

MC tenses. Privately means they will be punished. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” they say, growing increasingly frantic as they start to address someone else. “I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have bothered you, I knew you were busy, and you work so h-hard, and I’m just in your way- I promise I won’t do it again! I promise, I promise, I promise!”

What on Earth are they talking about? Lucifer throws open the door and storms in, making a beeline for MC. The next thing they say stops him dead in his tracks.

“PLEASE DON’T HIT ME!”

And with four words, Lucifer knows everything he needs to. 

Slowly, carefully, he approaches MC, who is holding their arms out in front of them, protecting their face. They lower their arms when they don’t feel the sting of a hand or a belt and look up at him fearfully. Telegraphing each motion, he kneels down at the side of their bed, hands out in front of him, eyes locked on theirs.

“I will never lay my hands upon you, MC, not without your permission.” Lucifer pauses, and his eyes wander to something in the back of the room before returning once again to MC’s. “I came here because my behaviour the other day was… unacceptable. You were simply trying to help and I see now that my reaction was…” Say it. “You were deeply upset by it. I want to apologize, and to assure you that I will do everything in my power so that such a thing never happens again. Can you forgive me?”

Can they? Even as MC returns to the present, the panic doesn’t fade with the memories. They’ve given others so many chances, much like the one Lucifer is asking for now. Is this the only one they will have to give? Or will there be more? Can they truly expect the Avatar of Pride to both admit to and right one of his wrongs? In the end, MC decides…

...to forgive him. Lucifer’s actions were hurtful, but not intentional. And now that he’s aware of MC’s history, he is extremely conscientious of upsetting them like that ever again. Once they fully calmed down, Lucifer had asked them if they had any other triggers he should be aware of, and has since made it his top priority to prevent MC from being exposed to them. 

Of course, he is still as headstrong as ever when it comes to accepting help. A demon’s nature cannot be swayed so easily, after all. But now, he is clear about his boundaries and notifies MC well in advance when a rough patch of work is coming up. There are still some surprises, and in those times the two learn each other’s rhythms, when to hold fast and when to give each other distance, and it works for them.

...they can’t forgive him. They know he didn’t mean to hurt them with his behaviour, but it doesn’t change the impact. The rational part of Lucifer understands. He broke their trust, and it is not his place to demand forgiveness. But this is MC, this is the person who helped him and his family so much, and it kills him that he can’t do the same for them. That they will always be at a certain distance now.

And it’s his fault.

#obey me #obey me!lucifer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me:swd #abuse mention #trauma mention #mine #my writing #lucifer #here we go #all aboard the angst train everyone

[aaallliiieee]

I love myself!!!!! I am doing great!!!!!! I don't need to justify my existence or repeat the entire narrative to every new person that I meet!!!!!! Yes I did x things for x years with x people and x x x blah blah blah and HERE I AM FuCKing LiVING BRO get over it!!!!!! Life goes on!!!!!! What's happening next x x x more things blah blah blah Here I AM ALWAYS HERE !!!!!!!!!!!! And I am breathing and I am dancing and I am relaxing into this moment bc I am Fucking GOOD ENOUGH!!!!!!!! Hallelujah. I'm alive. The sun is shining. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes weather is scary. Strong winds, etc. And yet I continue and it will all be fine. And I keep comforting myself by saying "and if I die in a freak accident then great eternal rest and peace and I didn't even have to do it on purpose" but then that quote from that song that's like "but if you're dreaming about dying, you're not really living" like fuck you're right when am I going to start living I've been alive for 26 and a half years amazing this entire time has been half really eternal struggle and half really amazing awe inspiring magic and like yeah standing up takes a lot of effort you gotta fight against/balance yourself upright within the gravity etc but you're also human and you're allowed to lay down whenever you want!!!!! Go lay flat on the ground for a few hours it's fucking healing.

I am allowed to just be chill and funny and easy going and friendly and full of love!!!!! I can let this old anxious narrative just fall away... Just stop repeating it and eventually it won't be yours anymore... You don't even have to replace it with anything that's the beautiful part is you can let the narrative and the justifying and the constantly over explaining... You can just let it all go. And just be. And just respond to whatever arises and then let it fall away and then on and on. Amazing. Freedom............. Freedom from/freedom to: freedom from the incessant words, freedom to just exist like a collection of electrons and whatnot. Fucking fascinating bro.

I'm about to go drive out to the desert for a few weeks and I don't know where I'm going and I don't know if I'll have enough money to cover the entire journey and I don't have a plan for if I run out of money but you know what!!!!!! Who the fuck cares!!!!!!! Life is just a weird ass dream, basically just a really fucking long acid trip and I can't wait til I can get back to the spirit realm and just fucking relax no girl stop with that escapism like we're here and it's a long ass ride just settle into it. Like the ayahuasca trip: a fucking rollercoaster when you're stuck in the surface of swirling images and appearances, and the ultimate cosmic embrace of divine mother when you can relax into the experience and stop resisting it.......... And in and out of each depending on where your attention and energy and tension is flowing. Release the tension release the fear release the expectations release the narrative. We're just floating along. There are people out there in the world. Almost 8 billion of them, actually. Fuck that. Thinking that my narrative is anything interesting. Well, maybe. Maybe. But to the extent that I have to feel tension and stress in order to carry it forward? Fuck no it just keeps going whether I put effort into it or not. Why am I writing this all out here. I desperately want to smoke weed. Escape...? Maybe. Maybe maybe. (Breathe.) Release your tension. Drink water. Go to sleep. Everything is continuing along its journey of existence and I am somewhere in the middle of it all. Fucking fascinating. These words are oppressive and I don't know if it's better to indulge them, like tapping a maple tree so the sap pours out and can be bottled and sold in a cute lil country farm stand, or if I should just leave it inside like the water inside a cactus. I do not know. Maybe both. I guess you can drink a cactus if you get thirsty enough. Remind me about that when I'm out in the desert. (I will not be drinking cactuses on this journey thru the desert. But I will survive and continue and life will survive and continue and somehow along the way we'll all find peace.) Just give it up...... You know....... Give it all up. The tension isn't necessary. I need a hug. There are 8 billion people on the planet and we're all just walking each other home. I don't owe anything to anyone and they don't owe anything to me and yet meanwhile we're all just doing random things in and out of each other's lives. Brrreeeaaatthhhe. Do you know that I am free? Do you feel free? Why is it so hard to feel free when literally that's all we ever are?

I went to a brewery tonight. Life is just going on and on. None of this matters. Is anyone even going to read this post? Like this post if you read the entire thing, it's ok if you think it's nonsense or annoying or whatever you don't have to enjoy the content I'm just curious if the words are making it into another person's eyeballs and then being translated into thoughts in their brain. Or do most people just skip it and not even bother reading it. No worries either way, just curious.

Can I tell you? I'm afraid. Living is hard. Dying is hard. Everything in between is hard. But there's moments of lightness and there are practices that increase the lightness in between the daily ups and downs. (Even the ups are heavy. The memories, the narratives...) Burdens. I am going through the process of purging everything which does not serve me in this next phase of life. Things: collected over my entire life: let them go. They are trapped and heavy living inside your head like this. Clear out the space between the walls. Leave room behind your eyeballs for deep breathing and space and the whispering wind in the trees. Go seek the silent solitude and feel yourself in that gentle hammock of divine mother's cosmic embrace. That supported weightlessness, gently drifting, you know. Last night I spent the night at a man's house and I wonder how much of my feelings for him are my own fantasy invention and how much is actually a cosmic reflection between two human beings and how much is just projection from one person onto another. How do you know? I want to merge my life with another human, I want to share my life, I don't want to be alone. But I want space and freedom and I want to share these things with a person who knows how to appreciate it. (learn to relax first, you'll never get there on this level of tension - I know.) I breathe and I release. I breathe and I release. No matter which level of connection I share with this man: it felt good to be held. I hope he felt the same level of comfort from my presence in his home. I hope to find my own place I can share with confidence and openhearted welcoming. Freedom. Freeeeeeeeedom. Go find your peace it's inside your heart go find it's reflection in the world you'll see it everywhere when you know how to look for it. Like those "magic eye" books. Life is just an ayahuasca trip. I trust people to hold me while I'm here and I trust myself to hold them in return. I am strong, I can stand up against the gravity. I think of that man that (you know who) experienced that thing ; you know what I mean ; I think about that often. I want to hope that in that situation I'd have the courage to hold his hand and look him in the eye and say to him, you're not alone, I'm here, I see you, I hold you in this moment. I wonder why I can imagine myself in this moment, and yet, in the day to day of my existence, I crumble under the weight. Do some strength training, do some planks and chaturangas, build up your core practice. Every day is going to keep on coming. Keep drinking water and eating vegetables and watch if you're consuming out of fear or avoidance or escape; tell this man you love him and see what he says. Are you afraid? What are you afraid of? What is life but a series of bizarre events one after another? Be free, let your heart be life. Light. Love. And on, and on.

I am alive and I am grateful for the opportunity. I will continue exploring along this adventure until my time is up; like the return to the station after a wild rollercoaster ride. Embrace the arising and the falling away. We are continuing along the journey. We are getting stronger. We are not alone. We are here. We. We. We. We. We. We are free. Weeeeeeeeeeee. Are. Freeeeeeeeeee. Nonsense is fun, nonsense is freedom, let yourself indulge the nonsense every now and then and bottle it like maple syrup and sell it at the country market store. But don't go replacing all your water and vegetables with maple syrup, you know? Trust the process, everything has its place, you are not alone. You have talents to offer to fill in the gap between other people and their experience. Everyone is lonely and wants more love. Unconditional, beautiful, glowing, free flowing love. I have it and I share it and I offer it to the world like the joyous gift I receive from plants and clouds and water. I am love. I am alive. I am your hopes and dreams and family and seeds. I wish you peace and joy along your journey. Namaste.

🙏

#note to self #please read this #tell me if it makes sense or not lol #its ok if its nonsense but does it resonate or is it flat and meaningless #i don't care either way I'm just curious how it comes across to other humans #update: seems like no one cares lol