#i don't even know what euphoria is about but I've watched their scenes

[devilfic]

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[miss-multi45]

Blackmail

Hoodie x FEM!Reader

cw: no smut, mentions of a gun (revolver), reader has an extremely shitty boyfriend, nicknames said: 'babe', 'babygirl', 'gorgeous girl', 'pretty thing', 'good girl', dead dove do not eat, I based this off the scene in euphoria season 2 episode 6 (the scene where nate puts a gun to maddy's head), mentions of stalking, ghostface quote, mentions of infidelity, gaslighting, swearing, hoodie is a murderous gentleman. come get your food (dddne pun)

It had been six hours since you last saw him.

Now don't take this the wrong way. You weren't the kind of girl to get sad when your boyfriend wasn't by your side again after being gone for five seconds. Quite the opposite.

Liam was a piece of shit, but somehow you loved him. So the reason you had been counting the hours until he got back home was that you had a sneaking suspicion that he had been sleeping with other girls, but god you had hoped and prayed that it wasn't true.

After a while of sitting on the corner of your bed with your head in your hands and planning out what you were going to say to him, the front door finally opened and Liam walked in and right up to where you were.

"I'm home, babe." He said as soon as he entered the room, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you looked up. He sat on his side of the bed and began to undress for bed.

"Where have you been?" You stood up, crossing you arms, finally confronting him despite your fear of him.

He chuckled, both nervously and darkly, "Babygirl, what do you mean?" Liam turned to look at you.

"You've been out all day, you haven't answered my calls or replied to my texts, and you didn't leave any notes or messages." You listed them off, making sure to stare directly into his stupid pretty brown eyes.

"Wha - babygirl, I have a job?" He backed himself up, but you had already prepared for this conversation.

"It's Sunday. Your job is out on Sundays." You walked backwards, sitting on your desk chair to keep the distance, because something didn't feel safe about this.

And almost on cue, you heard a metallic click. "What was that?" Your heart dropped, you recognised that click. It may seem stupid, but you had watched enough action movies to know that click belonged to a gun being loaded.

"Liam. What was that?" You pushed your chair back, even though the bullet could reach you in any corner of the room.

A terrifying emptiness took over his features, a hauntingly calm expression. He pulled the gun out of his jacket pocket, standing up and slowly coming towards you while the deadly cold expression stayed on his face.

The space between you and him was big enough for you to stand up from your chair and jump onto the bed. You threw a pillow at him as hard as you could, scared tears starting to develop and fall down your cheeks.

Liam laughed at that, it appeared he found your fear a laughing matter. "Aw, why you crying?" He creeped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and gently pressing the gun to your temple.

The cold metal that was suddenly against your head clicked, and that's when it hit you. He was playing a twisted game of Russian Roulette.

He switched to pressing the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger a few times to no avail. So, he got up and left the room to load the gun with more than one bullet.

But that didn't involve the bang of a gun, and it didn't involve a body thudding to the floor. But it definitely didn't involve a voice saying: "Smallest gun I've ever used."

Several seconds after the voice spoke, you quietly got up and closed the door, crawling back onto your bed and burying your head into a pillow to silently sob into it.

However, your crying session was interrupted by the door opening again. Heavy footsteps walking towards you, the bed sunk from someone's weight behind you.

"Now what happened here?" It was the same voice as before, commenting on the size of the gun. The voice clearly had a filter over it, but it sounded like a male. Stuffing your face further into the cushion, you tensed up when you felt a leather gloved hand gently stroke and pet your side as if the person knew what had just happened and wanted to comfort you.

"Sorry about your boyfriend," Oh, God. "All those muscles didn't help much." Liam was dead, shot and killed.

Whoever it was didn't seem to like the fact that your face was shoved into a pillow, so they grabbed your face by the chin and turned you over to look at them. "Oh, what a pretty thing." Your cheeks had tears marks, and you were still crying.

"Scared, huh?" Now that you were looking at them, it was obvious they were a man. A very broad and tall man, also quite dominant by the looks of it. He had a turmeric yellow hoodie and a black and red ski mask

You sniffled, and the hooded man chuckled and cocked his head before speaking again. "Stop crying." He wiped a tear with his thumb, moving his arm under your back while snaking the other under your waist.

He lifted you in a bridal carry, but you squirmed in his grasp. "That's enough. A gorgeous girl like you shouldn't be in the same house as the dead body of a shit muppet. Is that clear?"

Almost frantically, you used your sweater paws to wipe the tears away. "I want an answer. Preferably a verbal one." the man demanded, and you answered. "Yes." your voice quivered while you spoke.

"There we go." He started walking out of your room and out of the house, into the vast woodland expanse behind your house. "Now, I'm gonna tell you why I did what I did. And you're going to listen." Not once did he put you down.

"I've been stalking your dead boyfriend for three months now, and I only got the order to kill him two days ago." Wait, 'got the order'? What did that mean?

"I didn't need to kill him for another week, but I did it early because of what I saw him do to you, pretty thing." He continued. Oh, he saw everything. "Pointing a gun to your head, laughing at your fear. You don't do that to a woman, especially not your own fucking girlfriend."

You began to stop crying, instead just looking up at him with glassy eyes and rosy cheeks. But after a while you felt a headache build up, and your vision grew blurry and you saw black dots.

"That's it, good girl." That was the last thing you heard.

[xtraordinaryfangrl]

Yeah... turns out the streets were right about how the 6 measly episodes of TUA S4 was made in somebody's butt crack. I don't even have to watch it now (although I might after cleansing my mind with seasons 1 and 2 - aka PEAK TELEVISION) and I haven't even finished S3 because of how badly they butchered Alison's character/her relationship with Viktor. I do, however, have some very confused thoughts from the bits I've seen so far of the final season:

—

|‼️SPOILER ALERT‼️|

—

- Diego and Lila had 3 kids - two daughters and an unnamed son, according to the wiki-page? So what, is their son supposed to be a pee-wee version of Stanley (or as I know him, a softer version of Ashtray from Euphoria)?? That'd be cool if it was, y'know, confirmed. Guess I'll never know, and that in itself should be a criminal offense.

- SPEAKING OF ILLEGAL ACTIVITY - whoever pitched Five and Lila as a romantic pairing needs a psyche evaluation. You mean to tell me that not only she cheats on my man Diego, but she cheats on him with somebody who looks like a sophomore in college? She couldn’t have an affair with Sparrow!Ben? Or Luther - who apparently dabbles in male-stripping now? OR Viktor the Critically Acclaimed Ladies Man? Literally any other Hargreeves sibling would have been a better spring fling than a middle-aged man in a child’s body.

- Allison doesn’t say “I heard a rumor…” at all from the edits I’ve seen of her… Suspicious. Also, Ray just ditched her and Claire? For what- genuinely- WHY WOULD YOU GIVE MY SISTA A VILLAIN ARC FOR NO REASON LIKE-

- Weirdly enough, I’m sort of OK with the ending. Something will never sit right with me about the Hargreeves Siblings only finding peace in death after everything they’ve been through, sure. But their sacrifice makes sense, if not one huge inconsistency.

They didn’t just die, apparently. They were erased from existence, and their children still exist because of the Grandfather Paradox (which I still don’t get, by the way)? Fine. And yet, by some not-so-subtle foreshadowing, there’s an end-credits scene with a row of flowers - 8 marigolds. That’s not a coincidence, or maybe it is, but then that would also equate to more horrendous writing.

All in all, my love for the found-family trope is slightly tarnished now because of St*ve Bl*ckman and the only cure seems to be AO3.

—

Hell, I don’t write for this fandom, but if this isn’t a reason to start then what is?

[sciderman]

Okay if you had to choose between Deadpool and Deadpool 2 movie, which one would you prefer?

oh, i'd script doctor the hell out both of them, but i think the first deadpool is the better movie. just because it's kind of simple and cute, and quirky, and still kind of has this "we don't know if this going to work but we're gonna try. maximum effort." spirit about it. this kind of - innocence. it's so cute.

second one they get cocky. the second one is probably funnier - more fan-service, all that. but nothing will surpass the euphoria i felt when i heard angel of the morning that first time i saw deadpool 1 in theatres. you should've heard my heart racing. i'd been following the slow development hell of the deadpool movie for years. i'd seen the leaked test footage the day it came out. i'd read the leaked script. i remember talking at length with people for years about how the deadpool movie would never happen. and then i was there. in the cinema. and angel of the morning was playing. and i swear, i didn't breathe for the entire opening credits. it's a cinema experience i'll never forget.

i've been in deadpool hell for SO long you guys. long before the first movie was greenlit. i've been through so much. i've seen so much. you have not seen the emotional highs and lows i've been through.

i didn't even like deadpool 2 the first time i watched it. it grew on me over multiple watches. i still think the plot is stupid and they did vanessa so dirty (vanessa i would treat you so right.) the editing is so weird. the pacing is so weird. tonally it's a fucking mess. but there are so many good laughs in there that i'll still enjoy it for what it is.

deadpool 2 the - the plot just completely crumbles entirely if you hold it to any kind of scrutiny whatsoever - which, i get, isn't really the point - except, that - you know, i don't think that the deadpool movies are actually silly enough to get away with their paper-thin plots. they actually try for some scenes that hold some "weight" or whatever, and it kind of just doesn't work when you realise just how stupid the whole movie is, and how they undo everything at the end anyway.

i think the deadpool movies really have this problem of kind of - not taking themselves seriously enough, but also not going far enough into bizarro comedy for it to be a genuine satire or whatever. so they're stupid. like, not clever-stupid. just stupid. i would love for them to be clever-stupid. like, they could make it a legitimate comedy. or, they could take it seriously and give wade an actual story. wouldn't that be so freaky of them

[kanmom51]

JM Like crazy - my crazy thoughts

First of all, stream stream stream.

Now, let's talk about Like crazy a little.

I'm trying to soak it all in, so I will probably miss some stuff, but I'll give it a try.

The visuals are incredible, no doubt.

And the message is there, a little hidden, a little double twisted, so to speak, because I see what people are throwing out there. All heteronormative and all.

But peeps (gosh, I've been loving using that word lately), I see so much more than a man and a woman, that don't interact, did you notice that part all of you that are saying he's going in to kiss her. Like where the hell did you get that idea from?

I'm not going to do a second by second breakdown of the clip but I'm going to leave you with a few of my thoughts.

Oh, and so fucking what if he starts it out with "she"...does that mean the song is about a her? I really really don't think so. But I'll get to that.

This is a good explanation about the she:

Dropping this pic here too...

Oh, and I don't remember, did I say the English lyrics are different than the Korean. Imma gonna talk about the Korean, cause they're the ones that are on the clip, not to mention they are more telling, in my opinion.

Ok then, let's get going...

JM in the club.

Standing alone.

Zoom in on the eye then zoom out, flashback Serendipity. And why do I say Serendipity you ask? Well, because, you'll see ya'll. Stop being so impatient.

When he's singing:

"She's saying: Baby, don't think about it There's not a bad thing here tonight..."

The room is clean.

It goes on:

"baby it's fine if you leave, stay with me just for today" - room turns muddy, dirty.

That's where I feel the quote ends.

The she explained above makes so much sense in this context.

He continues with

"watch me go keep me drenched all night (away), so that morning gets drunk and never comes..."

I'm getting used to it

Did I come too far to find the me you used to know?

Yeah I know

You know

I know

I'd rather be...

Something look familiar?

Perhaps certain "I know you know I know" lyrics?

He is running into that bar/club and he's alone, he's drinking, he's 'having fun', but at the same time he's not, and when he's dancing and making contact with another, he has his arm around another guy.

This

Him walking against the stream, looked at, perhaps judged, and singing

I'd rather be lost in the lights I'm outta my mind

Please hold onto the end of the night...

walls closing in on him (hallway narrower than it was a second ago).

Now this part in the lyrics.

Nah, I will not accept any other interpretation (though I know there are hundreds of them), but nope, this is mine and I'm sticking with it:

Each night

you spin me up high

(psss...the dirt again people)

the moon embraces you

Let me have a taste

Give me a good ride

Ooh, surprise a queer couple...

Oh, and the colours...do we have gold/yellow and purple?

We have people making out, not JM. JM is by himself. It adds to the feeling of loneliness.

He's singing

forever you and I', but he's standing alone...

Then the bathroom scene.

Again he's alone.

I'm going endlessly crazy

I'd rather be lost in the lights

I'm outta my mind

(bathroom walls coming apart, leaving him standing alone...

Each night

You spin me up high

The moon embraces me

Let me have a taste

All while he's here:

Yes, he's 'showcasing' a hetero couple, but once again he's standing or sitting on that screen alone.

We have a hetero couple shown all while he's singing about what he'd rather be doing...

Then again, repeats the "give me a good ride", again standing alone in the crowd.

It's gonna be a good night

(oh I'm falling)

Forever you and I

No don't you wake me

I wanna stay in this dream, don't save me

I need a way we

I need a way we can dream on

Euphoria vibes much?

"Won't you please stay in my dreams, yeah...

Even if the earth crumbles No matter who shakes this world Don't let go of my hand Please don't wake me up from this dream"

Pausing one second here, crying a little.

Moving on...

He walks back into the room, on the way he's leaving muddy footprints, the room is dirty, muddy, his hands smeared with mud, which he spreads on the screen.

Yeah, every single work I say here can be total crap.

But it can also be all true. I certainly feel like it is.

There are too many references. Coincidences once again?

I don't think so.

Oh, and there's this:

That's it for now folks.

If I have more thoughts on the matter, I'll definitley come back.

This is me writing a few crazy thoughts after watching Like crazy a few times.

Go stream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[piromantic]

long gender rambling pt 2 (stuff that's been on my mind since watching i s4w the tv gl0w)

lowkey i do think knowing ahead of time what this film was about did dull the emotional impact for me but i did still get caught off guard by a random mundane line and cry for the rest of the film so, yeah

but it didn't really have the impact on me that everyone else seemed to get from it even though the ending scenes resonated with me so fucking hard. it just kind of got to me in a depressing way lmao but i do appreciate that wake-up call.

compound that with my experience at the conference back in may and ughhhhhh like i really am suffering and nobody even notices. i put aside so much discomfort to play the part of 'professional woman in STEM' for a few days and i get rewarded by being just straight up handed a she/her badge. like my lab mate was well meaning but damn ok life, that's a bit on the nose. and then i watched the movie and it's like ohhhh right i forgot that i'm the only person in the room who knows this is all a big elaborate performance for the sake of everyone else's comfort.

but what else can i even fucking do at this point?

honestly i feel like i have this deep-seated fear that i will never be taken seriously if i try to come out as any sort of trans and i don't know where it came from. it's probably a conglomeration of a ton of things. comments from my family. the portrayal of the transmasc experience always seeming to glorify the rejection of feminine traits and interests. the fact that i even have feminine traits and interests - and while i consider them gender neutral because fuck off nothing is inherently gendered, i can't argue my way out of ballet (for example) being a stereotypically girly thing. which is not to say that being a stereotypically girly thing is bad - it's not at all - but that it feels like evidence that can and will be used against me by other people.

(as an aside, i have mentioned really connecting to writings about the butch identity before, but it still feels like a label i can't claim. i'm not really doing masculinity in a queer way i'm just kind of... existing. also it feels like a label that only makes sense within the context of communities that i don't actually get to interact with that much. idk. 'you can just use the label if you connect with it' true, but if i used it people would be like 'ugh you can't call yourself that just because you have short hair and wear pants', and i can't disagree with that lmao)

i don't even know if hormones would help at all. i feel like any euphoria i feel would be more than cancelled out by the sheer amount of fear i'd feel being actually visibly trans. (especially because the non-permanent effects of hrt aren't even that interesting to me - i am already as hairy as i want to be, and my only issue with my face is the acne.) but then i meet someone in STEM who's transmasc and it's like godddd what would my life be like right now if i was just less scared. something about being in a room with people that i feel connected to but who don't recognize me as someone like them kills me inside.

and what is there besides hormones. i still haven't found a name that i actually resonate with, plus i've already published literature, and there's a practical reason why many women in STEM don't take their husband's last name. i already dress in ways i like, outside of formal clothes. changing pronouns goes right back to the 'i feel like no one will take me seriously' issue, and i just do not have the energy to continuously educate and correct people. i'd like top surgery for sure, but that requires three things i don't have: money, time off, and someone that can take care of me during recovery.

as a kid i preferred math to science because math is neater, more satisfying to look at, but at the same time math is frustrating because at the end of the day it's theoretical, not realistic. and that's how i feel about queer/gender theory. on the one hand, my views of gender are veeeery much 'none of this is innate, we need to deconstruct the very idea of gender'. on the other hand, the theories i find the most relatable and fulfilling do not at all help me understand how to deal with real life. like no amount of me not caring about gender will cancel out the fact that other people are always projecting gender onto me.

i think i keep digging into this stuff because i'm looking either for some way to continue being a woman more palatable to me, or for some satisfactory explanation for my mother's question of 'women can be anything, so why is that not enough for you?'. but no matter how much i dig into theory about 'woman' as a social construct, i can't find a way to be okay with the label, nor a way to explain why i need a different one. i can't just think my way into a social vacuum where wearing pink dresses doesn't carry meaning. but then it's like, okay well what do i do about this discomfort within my material reality? and the answer is i don't know. i don't know!

the one thing i really, really hate is having a feeling that i can't explain. i wince at explanations of being trans that go like 'i always preferred sports to dolls' because it works off of gender binary stereotypes, but i understand why people say that. at the same time, while i relate to theory that throws gender out the window, i can't deny that other people do have strong feelings about gender, both regarding identification and orientation. and i can't decide for them whether that is their innate truth or effects of social conditioning.

not really sure what the point of this was. umm 10/10 good movie

[evereinefaust]

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝟐 *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Today's one of the many days that the two planned on spending alone time together. It was already after school — the bright sun was slowly descending down the horizon, and splashes of yellow and orange painted the evening sky. The colors of which Nagito was reminded of autumn, and of course, the feeling of warmth.

The male sauntered over the central plaza where the biggest fountain was located, the place where he and his little talentless friend would hang out. The soles of his school shoes clanked against the stone pathway, providing him with some sort of sound in this silent area. Once he saw the mop of [h/c] sitting on the bench, a smile made its way onto his face, walking faster to meet the girl.

"Did you wait long for me, [Name]-chan?" Nagito asked, sending her a sheepish grin as he sat right next to her.

"No, I just got here," she answered, reciprocating the smile with her own gentle one.

"I could get used to her smiles..."

The [h/c]ette began their conversation after, telling the white-haired boy everything that happened on that day. Nagito listened attentively, nodding and humming occasionally to let her know that he was listening to what she had to offer. The girl's face was bright — her [e/c] orbs were sparkling with much life and euphoria and a permanent smile was etched on her lips. Their days would always consist of this: it's either one of them would initiate a full conversation while the other just listens and occasionally provides responses.

Not a few moments later, Nagito's mind wandered and he unintentionally zoned out what his female companion was telling him. His dull-colored orbs stared blankly at the fountain in the middle of the plaza, watching its crystal waters spew out into the basin below. He squinted his eyes and let out a muted sigh.

"I wonder how [Name]-chan would react if I tell her about my illness? Does she still want to stay and hang out around some nobody like me, or will she finally decide to leave me? I guess the latter would be likely. After all, it would be unfair to her to know that I would die soon and she would ultimately grow too attached to me. Ah... how unlucky she would be if that were to happen. And it's all my fault."

His gaze dropped, feeling his heart starting to throb erratically against his chest as he clenched it. The boy knew this feeling, yet it seemed unfamiliar to him at the same time. The only time he would feel his heart race was when anticipating greatly about what his luck would cause him — either something good or bad. And for his entire years of existence, the silverette started to attribute the feeling to his luck and hope. But never once he would experience this new sensation and attribute it to something else.

Once again, his mind wanders to the lonely and sleepless nights he had prior. The scenes of what his luck would cost him — his family and other innocent people — haunt him to this very day. However, it's not like Nagito had control over it; no, he was powerless against his own talent. That's why all he could do was to cope with the misfortune it brings as a way to stay sane and in control. However, in the process, he started to lose his sense of reality and also his humanity.

"Ah... this feeling... It's so new to me that I'm afraid it's caused by my luck. And yet, I don't want this feeling to vanish. I was fine with dying while I was still healthy, but it's quite lonely to die alone... Now that I'm on the verge of death, I've finally realized what I wanted all along: somebody's love."

For a brief moment, Nagito turned his gaze to his companion who he'd noticed stopped talking. A light breeze passed by, making her [h/l] [h/c] hair gently sway in its direction. Her small hand tucked a stray strand behind her ear, revealing her [s/c] complexion and those alluring [e/c] orbs admiring the garden. A satisfied smile graced her lips, her eyes softening a bit as she continued her observation.

Nagito, as well, couldn't help but contain a smile upon seeing how dazzling this particular girl could be. She wasn't any special of sorts — no ultimate talent that separates her from the rest of the people in the world. Yet, despite that, the male was still attracted to her.

"Should I tell her about her appearance? Ah... but I may end up saying something stupid instead. Though, she truly is bright; like there's this hope hidden within her. Hope... I want to see this hope that resides in her."

Ever since he decided to go to the reserve course side of the academy, ever since meeting her on that day, Nagito noticed a slight change in his dull life. Is this caused by his good luck? That, he doesn't fully understand yet. Because if it truly is, then...what could the bad luck that precedes this would be? But never once did the thought ever cross his mind; it was like whenever he was with her, he could forget about everything else. 

"Maybe it might not be that bad...to finally live my life to the fullest without being afraid of the consequences of my luck."

"Ever since I was a child, I've been cursed to live this cycle of good and bad luck. Major events occurred that shaped my life right now... All of those were just a pattern to my luck. It's just like a rollercoaster. At first, I was definitely scared of all the bad things that happened to me, and was genuinely happy about all the good ones. But as time goes on, it just becomes boring already knowing what would possibly come next. But with her around, everything seems to just fade away like it doesn't even matter."

A sigh escaped Nagito's lips, turning his attention on a certain [h/c]-haired student walking in front of him. Her [h/l] tresses swayed with each slow step she took against the pavement, hands linked behind her back as her head turned side to side to admire the flowers lining up the pathway.

It was one of those days when the two would be allowed to explore more of Hope's Peak, visiting some available places such as the botanical garden. Although the garden was technically a part of the eastside quarter that housed the Main Course building and its research facilities for the students, Nagito would try to sneak this curious girl in. Besides, it's not like anyone could stop him from doing just that.

"Their words and actions... although at first, I didn't quite understand why they were like that towards me. But now, I realize it. Was it selfish of me if I wished to experience that same kindness and understanding coming from [Name]-chan?"

"Ah! So there's also [fav/flower] here? Wow, I didn't expect that! I thought that only a select species of plants were grown here. Ah, but then yet again, it's the botanical garden of Hope's Peak; of course, the Ultimate Botanist or Ultimate Gardener would be honing their skills here," the girl declared, stopping by the patch of the said flowers and bent down to examine the beauty of it. Her expression softened.

"So you like [fav/flower], huh?" the girl nodded, regarding him with her famous smile which made his heart skip a beat. Chuckling to himself, he felt his cheeks burn up. "I admit, they look good on you."

"Huh? O-oh... Thank you, Nagito-senpai," a blush spread across her face, smiling cheekily at his compliment.

"It's really weird how a talentless, simple girl like her brings change inside of me. I... didn't expect that you were the one to let me see things in a new light. Ah, then yet again — you are the only person who is not an ultimate who I interact with this longest." 

Inhaling the sweet scent of the garden, Nagito then closed his eyes. At the moment, the male felt like he was consumed by a dream — a dream so wonderful that he didn't want to wake up. He could see splashes of different pale yet warm colors — yellow, orange, pink, blue, green, red, and violet — all of which combined to make a stunning canvas in his mind. The image he could see was void of any geometric shapes, just a random assortment of colors in the palette. Nevertheless, it didn't make it any less beautiful in his eyes.

"Ah... Then yet again, dreams are nice too. And unlike reality, anything could happen in a dream. Maybe this feeling that I'm feeling, this scenario that I was experiencing, was all just something that materialized in a dream due to my desires. Of course, for some trash like me, nothing like that would happen to me. As long as I live, it will continue." 

"Nagito-senpai?"

"Ah...that voice. A voice filled with sweet, sweet hope. It fills me so much with bliss that I'm so happy to hear it again and again."

Heeding her call, the silverette slowly opened his lids. Grayish-green eyes were met with [e/c] ones. He saw her staring back at him, a slight crease in between her eyebrows with her head tilted to the side as she regarded him with a confused expression.

"Are you alright? You seemed to be in a trance," she asked, frowning with concern. 

Nagito could only chuckle in response to that, genuinely happy that she cared for someone like him. "I'm happy that you deeply care for a lowly bug like me. Though, don't worry; I was just thinking." 

"Oh, what are you thinking about then, senpai?" 

"You," he grinned at her. 

The girl's face bloomed a thousand shades of red due to his straightforward answer. She didn't expect him to respond like that. At all. She shyly hid her face from his gaze on her while the silverette only let the smile decorate his face still. Though, surprisingly, Nagito's face was also smeared with the pink hue. 

"H-how about we go back, senpai? Lunchtime is nearly over and I don't want to cause you any trouble if I'm caught here," [Name] said, grabbing the boy's sleeves and pulling him out of the garden. 

Days flew by whenever the two would bond together, and it's only been recently that Nagito realized how much time has passed. Yet again, it's already been another month that passed by. The heavens were littered with droplets of white flurry, enveloping the entire land with snow. Winter had already started, and here the frost-haired boy was, standing near the bench that he and a particular reserve course student would hang out in, only this time, he didn't approach the lone girl sitting by herself.

His dull-colored hues immediately took notice of her melancholic expression — her once bright [e/c] orbs were glossed with waterworks, a stream of salty tears cascading down her soft [s/c] cheeks. He could hear her sniffs and hiccups even from where he was, and every time it entered his ears, his heart would churn in pain. 

Nagito didn't understand why he was debating whether or not to approach her, after all, they were already that close. But the boy never realized how crucial this moment could be — this moment in which he had first seen the girl without those bright smiles on her lips. And although he hadn't completely decided on what to do, his legs moved forward on their own. 

"Hey, [Name]-chan!" he greeted with his usual closed-eye carefree smile and a small wave.

"H-huh?! O-oh... It's just you Nagito-senpai," her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing this particular silverette. She then wiped her tears away though remained silent. 

"H-huh...? Why did I...?" 

Nagito blinked in confusion at his own action. He, too, was surprised about what he did. He sweat-dropped at that, though seeing that he was already in this situation, he concluded that it was better to just go on with it. He wordlessly took the seat next to her, the soft snow melting against his warmth. He regarded her with a scrutinized gaze, his earlier jovial expression contorted into those of concern.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" 

She meekly and slyly glanced at him briefly, before sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath. The air around her mouth vaporized into a mist, her shoulders slumping in the process. Mustering up her courage, she began admitting her concerns to this male. It's not like there's anything wrong that could happen, right?

"It's just that... I was having trouble here..." she admitted, a crimson hue dusting her cheeks.

"Oh... Why's that?" the male prodded.

"Well...despite all the good times that I had here, I find it hard to fit in; it's like I don't belong here," she continued, now fiddling with her gloves with her head hung low.

"But you're a student of Hope's Peak, you technically belonged here," Nagito bluntly stated, completely unaware of her words.

The girl only shook her head sadly. "I didn't mean it like that, senpai..."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the frost-haired boy chuckled at his blunder. "What do you mean by that, then?"

"It is true that physically, I am a part of Hope's Peak. But, as a student in the reserve course, I don't feel emotionally connected with them," she softly expressed, raising her head as she stared at the snowflakes fluttering down from the skies.

By now, the Ultimate Lucky Student was genuinely confused by what she was saying. However, knowing the boy, he isn't really the type to be able to read between the lines or read the mood around him. Yet, despite that, Nagito pursed his lips in deep thought, trying to find a way to make the girl feel better. Even if it's just a little bit.

"I don't understand... But you're friends with Hinata-kun and the others, right?"

She chuckled at that. "Yes, I'm friends with Hajime, Sato-san, Nanami-san, and the others. But honestly, I don't know why I feel like they weren't enough. Am I being pathetic? Wishing to find someone else even though I've been surrounded by wonderful people like them?"

"No, you aren't pathetic [Name]-chan. To me, you're amazing — the one who gave me hope." 

"My classmates, they... for the past months, I noticed that I'm becoming more and more of an outcast in class. In the beginning, it was fine, even though I never really got close to some of them. But as time passed, it felt like there was a growing rift between us — they actively avoided me, sending me dirty stares, and whispering against my back. It may be my imagination but I swear that I heard some of them badmouthing me for being close to Nanami-san and Sato-san, saying that I'm trying to get close to them just so that I can take advantage of their kindness. It...hurts..."

"I see..." he nodded. "Though it can't be helped. There certainly is a barrier between the ultimate and the talentless. And born from that division was the envy and jealousy that a person has hidden within. Some day at some point, it would undoubtedly spring out."

[E/c] eyes were wide as saucers at his words. Her expression...was something that Nagito could visibly see but couldn't understand why she was making that. Hurt and pain reflected in her glassy pools, staring at him with her eyebrows knitted together. Her mouth was parted ajar, may it be from disbelief, he doesn't know. Upon seeing her react like that, he felt his heart pound strongly against his chest, as if criticizing him for his behavior. After a few more moments, she returned her gaze to the frozen fountain.

What happened after completely surprised the ultimate student. There, beside him, the girl he's a friend with was hunched over and now a sobbing mess. She had her gloved hands covering her entire face, the sounds of her loud wails were muffled. Her whole body was trembling greatly, often rising in every sharp inhale she would take. This is the first time Nagito had encountered this kind of situation. And unfortunately, he didn't know what to do.

The boy sweat-dropped, pursing his bottom lips once again as his eyes could only stare at her fragile and petite form. A crease was visible on his forehead, indicating his concern and conflict. He felt bad for being insensitive to her feelings despite her opening up her trouble to him. He knows that he has to do something, yet, because of his incompetence, he doesn't know what the proper procedure is. In the end, he could only blame himself for this outcome. 

"Ah, I'm terribly sorry, [Name]-chan. Because of a scum like me, I instead hurt you more."

"N-now, now, [Name]-chan," he started, scooting closer to her trembling form as he rubbed circles on her back as a way to comfort her. Noticing that she hasn't calmed down, he nervously sweat-dropped. "H-hey... How about I tell you a joke? Ah! How about this one? Why did the scarecrow get promoted? Because he was outstanding in his field."

An awkward silence ensued moments after he said his awful joke. And add to his problem, it didn't make any difference to the girl's situation. Here they are still: him rubbing her back repeatedly while she continued her breakdown. Her soft sniffles and hiccups were the thing he could hear in the vicinity, the sounds seemed to mock him for his failure to comfort his precious friend.

"Maybe it was a bad idea to approach her, after all. Not only do I make her cry but I also cannot fix my mistake and comfort her. Furthermore, for [Name]-chan to experience bullying in this school... Maybe it's my fault that this is happening to her... My bad luck has done this to her."

After the whole ordeal that happened yesterday with [Name], Nagito once again walked the path towards the central plaza. However, this time, he doesn't plan on visiting his little reserve course friend. After all, if those bad things happened to her due to his bad luck affecting her as well, then maybe it's time that he should watch his distance from her. And that, he convinced himself to do. Yet, why did he find himself staring at the same girl that he vowed to stay away from?

Grayish-green eyes watched as the [h/c]ette conversed with the brown-haired male, her face a complete contrast to what he had seen the day before. Her bright smile which sparked hope inside him, was now given to her friend. He witnessed Hajime patting the girl's head affectionately, saying something to her that made her blush and eventually shy away. Hajime laughed, poking her cheeks repeatedly as the girl huffed in annoyance at his gesture and childishly pouted at him.

"I shouldn't continue watching them like this. [Name]-chan is better off with Hinata-kun and not someone like me. After all, he is her close friend and he knows her better than me. Surely, he could comfort her better than I could ever do."

Gazing at them for the last time, he then saw familiar faces approaching the two: Kokichi Ouma, Byakuya Togami, Chiaki Nanami, and Shiro Sato. Shiro casually strolled towards them, giving them a gentle wave with the purple-haired skipping beside the Ultimate Song Writer. Byakuya had his arms crossed as he walked on the ravenette's other side. Meanwhile, Chiaki held a controller in her hand as she smiled gently at the flustered reserve course female.

Nagito let out a sad sigh, deciding to finally leave them alone. Hands in his pockets, he turned his heels and ambled away from the area. His gaze blankly trailed at the heavens, watching as the snowfall stopped. The breeze picked up moments later, making his fluffy silvery lock flutter away in its direction and his body shivering a bit from the cold. His mind began to drift away once again. However, every thought that he could think of was all from the girl.

"It's better if she's with them rather than with me. I don't know why you decided to stop and give attention to a lowly piece of trash like myself. And to think that I got ahead of myself and even dropped my guard."

"Nagito-senpai!"

"Huh?" he uttered, surprise evident on his face as he spun around to be met with the same girl he had thought of moments prior.

"I'm glad I found you, senpai!" she declared, stopping just a foot away and placing her hand on her knees. He could hear her heavy breathing as if she had run a mile to catch up to him. After she regained her breath, she stood straight and extended her arms towards him, a red hue smeared across her cheeks and a large grin on her lips. "Here! These are for you, Nagito-senpai!"

"Huh...? What is this for?" he questioned, baffled by the gifts presented to him.

His incredulous gaze examined the items in the student's hand — a uniquely designed journal with a small sachet of potpourri perched on top of it. He could smell a mix of familiar scents: roses, lavender, rosemary, lemon; and other more he couldn't identify.

[Name] giggled, urging him to accept the gifts. "These are gifts for you, silly!" 

"Is it...really okay to accept this...?" he questioned further, still reluctant and in denial of any of these happening in reality. 

"Of course, senpai," she answered, voice as soft as ever. She moved forward and took his hand, dropping the items in his open palm. "I made these as a thank you for yesterday. Thank you, senpai, for being with me that time and listening to my worries. Thank you for trying to comfort me even though I broke down without warnings. Even though it seems to be not much, your gesture truly meant a lot to me." 

"No...I haven't done anything to receive your thanks. But...for someone like me to be useful to you, and to even receive your words of gratitude...makes me happy."

Nagito's face was undoubtedly filled with pure bliss at that simple yet profound gesture. His heart started to race inside his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, and his pale cheeks warmed up a pink hue. He remembered the wish he had made months before — the wish that said he wanted to experience the same kindness Chiaki and Chisa showed him from [Name]. And now that was fulfilled today, he was truly grateful to have met this girl. 

"Hmhmhm... Just thinking about the bad luck that's waiting for me is making me feel all tingly...!"

The confusion was written all over [Name]'s face at his comment. Truly, it was his quirk to make statements like that, though the young female is still not used to hearing him say that. Though seeing how soft his gaze was on her gift, she closed her eyes, linking her arms behind her back while letting out a wholehearted laugh. The sound of her dainty laughter filled Nagito with a fuzzy feeling.

"This feeling is really nice..."

A young child of just 10 stared at the body of his pet dog, its corpse lying quietly on the side of the pavement. His greenish-gray eyes bore holes into its flattened form, a pool of dark red blood surrounding it. Inching his gaze to the dog's surroundings, he could see the bloody tire trails leading away from the canine. There was no one else in the area; not even a single soul.

His face was devoid of any known emotion — his pale facade was just a blank slate. He felt his heart churning in excruciating pain at the horrendous sight and the trauma. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to cry nor shed a single tear for his beloved pet.

Nagito once again stood there. His widened eyes could only stare at the countless dead bodies littering the airplane. His parents' body was lifelessly laid a few meters away from him, blood pooled around their lifeless forms. A meteorite had gone and crashed the boarded aircraft, forming a split in the carrier and the passengers by the business class sections were dead, all except for this particular child.

He could hear the panicked screams outside, but he didn't mind all of them. All he could feel at the moment was despair upon seeing his parents being killed in front of him.

A certain white-haired boy walked out of his middle school, minding his own business as he began to travel all the way home. Upon entering the busy parts of the city and maneuvering through the countless alleyways, a mysterious person took hold of him — covering his nose and mouth with a handkerchief and detaining his arms. Soon after, the boy was drugged to sleep.

After what seemed to be hours, the white-haired boy woke up, seeing nothing but darkness and hearing distant voices from where he was. He tried to move around, only to realize that he had been tied up and stuffed into a garbage bag. Soon after, he could hear the door being broken down and people coming in. Finally, he was freed from his unfortunate imprisonment.

A lone young man stood amidst the darkness. There was nothing in sight — just an endless space of darkness. He let his eyes scan the area but was fruitless in his endeavor. Nagito then decided to walk around, trying to find any clue of where he was or what he was doing there. It was certainly unusual, that he could feel nothing from this place — no uneasy feeling, no nothing. Soon, the silverette halted in his steps, his gaze fixated on a person before him.

It was a girl, somewhere around his age. She had [h/l] [h/c] hair and wore a brown school uniform. She had her back facing him, and he couldn't see anywhere past that. Upon landing his eyes on this particular girl, his heart immediately sped up. He was confused by the occurrence but said nothing. He tried to take a step forward, however, it seemed that he was already glued to his place.

A few moments passed, and several other people started to fade into existence, standing on each side of this particular girl. Nagito instantly identified all of them: Sonia, Kazuichi, Ryota, Chisa, Gundham, Nekomaru, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Peko, Fuyuhiko, Mahiru, Akane, Teruteru, and lastly, Mikan. They just stood there, forming a line with the said [h/c]-haired girl in the middle. He watched them materialize, and they remained motionless like a mannequin.

Soon after, he could feel immense pain plaguing his insides. He gasped, sweat beads rolling down the side of his pale face as he clenched his throbbing heart. His knees buckled which forced him to drop. His other hand was planted against the cold floor, serving as a prop to help his crouched body. He had his head hung, seeing the salty water pitter-pattering on the ground. The boy let out a whimper, then panted. As he returned his gaze to the people in front of him, that's when his eyes dilated at the sight.

Each one of his beloved friends was dead, pools of blood surrounding their lifeless forms. All of them...except for a particular girl. There she is still, standing in the middle of the countless bodies arranged in a row — their death was unique in each way. After what seemed to be an endless minute, the [h/c]ette finally moved. She spun around and met Nagito's miserable condition.

At last, he finally saw her face... Those soft [s/c] skin, those bright [e/c] orbs, and those pink lips. Almost instantly, he was filled with tenderness and warmth upon seeing her face. She had a smile on, a smile which he grew familiar and attached to. Nagito tried to lift his body up and successfully did so as he staggered to keep his balance up. With a shaky arm, he tried to reach out to her, only for him to drop it seconds later.

What he saw next made the boy stop in his tracks; the previous corpses of his class vanished into thin air, now replaced in its stead were the closest friends a certain reserve course student has. He saw Hajime and Chiaki together, walking towards the young female. Shiro followed after, emerging from the other side with Kokichi and Byakuya right on his trail. He saw how this girl's face lit up upon seeing her friends, letting out a hearty chuckle with a small blush resting on her cheeks.

However, just like the previous times, the bliss of the moment didn't last long. One by one, he had witnessed a certain scene playing in front of him. First, it was Hajime. The brunette was, for some reason, printed on a large scratch lottery ticket. The title of it was printed in a large bold red color, the words 'Scratch de Hinata' engraved in Nagito's mind.

An unknown entity came in, a burst of maniacal laughter following it. With a giant coin, the entity harshly scratched the picture of the reserve course student. Hajime's screams and cries bellowed throughout the vicinity, tears of terror and pain cascading down his face as he slowly disappeared from existence. After the boy was completely scratched out, the words 'Try Again' were shown. The mysterious entity huffed in annoyance, leaving shortly after.

Soon after that, several other horrid death scenes come into play. Next was Chiaki, who was going through a death maze and was impaled in the end. Then there's Byakuya, who was thrown into a dump from high above. His bloodied form was then followed by random silhouettes throwing numerous rocks at him, injuring him even more. As the blonde heir tries to escape, however, he then ends up in a cold place. There was no one else there, yet due to the frigid conditions, he died shortly after.

The Ultimate Song Writer... the poor ravenette was strapped on an armchair, eyes were forced wide open with the help of equipment. His arms, torso, and left arm were the only ones strapped. There was a large television screen in front of Shiro, and on his desk were several papers and a pen in his right hand. As the screen opened, there was a video of the same entity from earlier. It cackled, then soon the television screen was switched to a horrid video shown to the ravenette.

Nagito heard his scream as the collar around the poor boy beeped and his neck was zapped with electricity. Almost immediately, Shiro's hands started writing song lyrics on the paper nonstop as the torture continued. It went on for what seemed to be hours...before Shiro's hands dropped and the pen in his hold clanked against the ground. There, sitting by the chair was a wide-eyed Shiro, his orbs were lifeless as salty tears streamed down his face. His neck was burned and wired, and soon, his neck snapped off and the head rolled off the ground.

Last but not the least, was the purple-tressed Ultimate. Kokichi's body was tied and he was placed under a large hydraulic press. The boy squirmed around, trying to untie himself and get away from the large metal plate slowly descending on him. Tears were formed at the corners of Kokichi's eyes, yelling out cries for help and even profanities. However, no one was there to save him. As the press was only inches away from crushing his body, the indigo-tressed student stopped and finally accepted his fate.

The loud and ghastly crunches of bones and muscles under the force of the press added by Kokichi's fleeting screams scarred Nagito. After the machine finished its job, the area around the hydraulic press was covered with deep and thick blood. Soon after everyone's death was shown, the vision faded away, revealing the same [h/c]ette standing still. The aforementioned people were now dropped dead beside her.

Nagito hadn't noticed it yet, but as soon as his gaze landed on her, he felt his eyes sting and a waterfall of tears came rushing down his cheeks. He opened his mouth, trying to call out to her but nothing is coming out of his throat. He tried to reach out to her, but his arms suddenly became heavy. His whimpers were the only sound he was hearing at the moment, yet, none seemed to reach out to her.

Soon enough, the girl faced Nagito. Her tear-stricken face — her bitter smile, and those [e/c] eyes full of grudge and hate — were aimed at the frost-haired male. She flashed him a sickeningly sweet closed-eye smile, and as soon as her lids opened, she regarded him with disdain. A few words were muttered before the scene before him changed and then he finally saw where the girl was standing... on top of Hope's Peak's Reserve Course building.

Nagito's screams resounded as he finally got a hold of his body. He threw his arms out towards the girl, yet it didn't stop her from falling down to her untimely demise. The breeze roughly rushed past her body before he heard a large splat and a flattened body lying on the cold pavement.

"W-what was that...? A nightmare...?"

Deep and heavy breathing resounded in the empty room. A young man with pearlescent hair and grayish-green eyes was woken with a start. Beads of sweat covered his entire face, eyes wide as saucers and he could feel his heart beating erratically against his ribcage. The boy was disconcerted and frightened at that moment, and it took him much time before he could finally calm down.

Staring out at the room's window, he could see the luminescent glow of the white moon high above the skies, the snow falling gently and piling up on the grounds. Nagito let out a chuckle, putting a hand on his face and moving away some of his wavy locks. Shortly after, his chuckles died down and he slumped his shoulders, leaning idly against his bed's headboard.

"It's all my fault... Everything is all my fault... Why did I begin to believe that things would change just like that? A lowly piece of trash, a scum like myself doesn't deserve happiness. As long as I'm alive, as long as my very existence is tied to luck, I will always bring disaster to others. That will never change."

The next day, with those words in mind, Nagito then walked his way towards school. He was aloof once again, his mind wandering elsewhere and trying not to let a specific person invade his thoughts. As soon as he reached the academy's grounds and entered, he noticed a couple of students rushing past him. He didn't give it much thought, but when his ears caught the words 'someone's dead', his heart began to race.

Grayish-green eyes dilated a bit, immediately stopping in his tracks. He could feel his whole body react negatively to that statement, and he hung his head low. Nagito blankly stared at the pavement, his mind ceased to function as the only thoughts swirling around were of that particular girl. Subconsciously, he let his feet follow the students who rushed to see the scene.

After a few moments of catching up with the others, Nagito then noticed the large crowd by the central plaza — students, both from the reserve and main course, teachers, school authorities, and officials surrounded the large fountain. Murmurs echoed throughout the plaza as Nagito tried to get closer to see the scene. The male was undoubtedly frightened of who he would see, his hand becoming clammy around the strap of his bag.

Once he was fairly at the front of the bunch, his surprised gaze landed on the person lying on the water fountain. Those short, raven locks, that fair complexion, those tattered Main Course uniform... There's no doubt; it was Shiro Sato, the Ultimate Song Writer. There were several lacerations all over his entire body, tearing apart the once charming male uniform of the main course students. His body was dumped poorly in the fountain, the water around him turning red from all the blood seeping out of the wounds.

Certainly, this came out as a shock for Nagito — that a symbol of hope like him had met this fate. But, at the same time, the white-haired male didn't know why he felt relieved at that revelation. Maybe because it wasn't her that ended up like this. Although he was completely out of touch with his emotions and suppressed any real feelings of sorrow, he still felt bad that something like this happened to his underclassman.

"Ah... How could someone do this to a symbol of hope like him? How dare they!"

Deciding that he had seen enough, Nagito turned around from the scene, ready to go on with his merry way and into the sidelines. However, as he landed his gaze on the group of students far back, his eyes widened. There, just a few meters away from him was the girl he deeply cared about — [Name] stood still on her spot, her gaze fixated on the horrid scene before her. Her [e/c] pools shrunk in disbelief and horror, her mouth slightly parted and a visible crease was in between her eyebrows.

The boy knew how much Shiro meant to [Name], and for her to witness something as gruesome as this, he didn't want to know how despair-inducing this could be to her. He knew that he had to stop the [h/c]ette from staring at the Ultimate Song Writer's body and take her away from this incident.

"[Name]-cha—!"

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to call upon her as the said girl burst into tears, instantly turning around and fleeing the area. Nagito gave chase, leaving the central plaza as well in search of his reserve course friend.

Nagito followed after her without much thinking. He knew that he had to make the girl stay away from Shiro's corpse as soon as possible, but he didn't intend things to be this way. He wasn't the type of guy to assert himself and chase after another, yet, he found himself doing just that. It was like his body moved on its own accord whenever the situation involved [Name].

The student took a heavy breath, pausing for a while and planting his hands on both knees. He was completely exhausted by the uncalled exercise he had just done. Sweat built all over his body and on his face, making his school uniform stuck on his sweaty skin. After a moment of regaining his breath and rest, Nagito ventured forward to where he believed [Name] took refuge. The area was void of any life, with no students or teachers walking past whatsoever. His gaze immediately noticed a large patch of trees ahead.

"Maybe [Name]-chan hid there. I don't think she could go as far away from the central plaza in that state."

Following his assumptions, the boy trudged over the entrance of the forest in search of a particular reserve course female. He wandered inside for a few minutes, his grayish-green eyes scanning the area thoroughly to hopefully spot a mop of [h/c] locks. Not long after, Nagito finally saw the girl he'd been looking for crouched by the many trees in the forest.

He took small cautious steps, carefully approaching her without alarming the devastated girl. The soft crunch of the melted snow was made when he stepped on the ground, but fortunately, it didn't seem to alarm [Name]. Once he was near enough, Nagito bent down and gently touched her shoulder to which she flinched.

"Hey..." he started, voice as soft as ever. "Are you okay?"

[Name] briefly looked up to see Nagito's worried stare — his eyes were filled with concern and eyebrows knitted together, he also sported a frown unbeknown to her. When she glanced at him, Nagito was able to see the condition she was in — her bloodshot eyes were still forming salty tears that streamed down her face, a deep crease on her forehead, and quivering lips pursed slightly together. After a few minutes, the girl buried her face into her knees once again.

Nagito remained muted as he took a seat beside her on the grass. He didn't say anything, just there beside her as a wordless act of comfort. After all, he knew better than to say anything for fear of hurting her feelings more. The two stayed there under the canopy of leaves, the morning sun seeping through the cracks in the forest. A soft snivel was made and soon [Name]'s body was trembling. The male could only stare at the blue skies above, his half-lidded eyes were surprisingly filled with grief.

"W-why...? W-why does S-Sato-san have to e-end up like that?" she croaked, trying to voice out her thoughts despite her breakdown. "Sato-san was a g-great person... He was kind and c-caring... He e-even befriended a low t-t-talentless student like me... He showed m-me kindness and t-taught me a lot a-about his experience..."

"It's my fault... Because I was close to you, Sato-kun was affected by my bad luck..."

"T-Togami-san... Ouma-san... even Nanami-san and H-Hajime liked him... I'm sure that...that Sato-san's classmates also cared for him... So why...? H-he doesn't deserve this... He doesn't deserve this fate!" the girl shouted out, raising her head as she did so. Relentless tears kept cascading down her flushed cheeks, the signs of it stopping were nonexistent.

"He will be okay."

"H-huh...?" [Name] stared at her frost-haired companion with a puzzled look. "W-what do you mean by that, senpai?"

The mentioned male gave the girl a carefree closed-eye smile. "Sato-kun will be okay; he's not dead. As a symbol of hope, he would survive this. Besides, given the water at the fountain, the blood hasn't dispersed that much. It means that this happened lately and that Sato-kun can still be saved."

"Really...?" she asked, voice expectant as she slowly wiped her tear-stained face.

Nagito nodded, flashing her a calm smile. "Of course, believe in me."

"A liar..."

"I see... That's great then," she sighed in relief, finally calming down. Then, she regarded Nagito with a forced smile. "You are calm and composed even at times like this that it's scary."

"Is that so?" he chuckled awkwardly, sweat-dropping at her words.

She nodded. She then let her gaze land on the scenery outside the forest, her eyes lidded. "It must be nice to be calm and cool-headed in such a dire situation; not letting your emotion cloud your better judgment and analyze every detail present in the situation."

"Honestly, I was not that calm when I found out about that earlier; I was completely in shock."

"I don't believe so. It didn't show on your face, after all," [Name] shook her head, dismissing his words.

His grayish-green orbs gazed softly at the broken female beside him. Despite the words and praise she told him, Nagito knew better than it was a false belief that he let her assume by his words and actions.

"I'm much more of a coward than you believe I am to be, [Name]-chan. It truly hurts me that you think of me highly that way. After all, I'm just an insignificant bug standing in your way. Everything that happened today... was all my fault."

After the discovery of Shiro's body at the central plaza and the arrival of the police and ambulance, the teachers told the students to return to their classes. However, despite the usual routine, everyone in Hope's Peak was restless because of what happened hours prior. Nagito escorted [Name] to her building, ensuring that she went in safely before he proceeded to his own building.

Upon entering his classroom, he was greeted by his worried homeroom teacher bombarding him with questions regarding Sato. Nagito was startled at first, then slowly reassured her that he was fine and explained to her everything that happened to him when he entered the academy up until now. Soon after, Chisa allowed the silverette to take his seat by the back.

Homeroom started shortly after. For the entirety of the time, Nagito's mind was adrift somewhere else. He glanced at the windows outside, seeing the reserve course building across the academy. Just like any other time, his thoughts deviated to the girl he was with earlier. The instant her name flitted his mind, the instant her despaired expression appeared. His heart pounded hard against his chest upon remembering her face. He pursed his lips, a deep crease in between his eyebrows as he replayed the scene in his head.

"Why...? Why do you think of me like that, [Name]-chan? Can't you see that I'm just a worthless waste of space?"

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝟏

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝟑

[mikuni14]

Playboyy Ep 3

"Does sex have to be violent, Dad?" "Can't we just have normal sex?"

These two sentences brought me back to Playboyy after a rather weak episode 2 🥳

The series still has the same flaws for me, that is, it's not hot at all, the plot is all over the place, there are a lot of scenes I don't know where they came from, but I decided to change my perspective and look at this series differently.

Perhaps due to my age, my approach to Playboyy was, um, less favorable, but hearing these two sentences and especially watching the scenes with Soong made me realize that maybe I do not understand this series, because it is a series not "about me", but about young people living in the modern world and that it's a bit like Euphoria, which I watched with curiosity, a bit like a nature program about some exotic spieces 😃 with a mix of horror and compassion.

And I decided to look at Playboyy in the same way, I started analyzing this series ignoring let's call it "shockness" of the sex scenes and focusing on something else.

And what is it? The fact that these kids (sorry, for me they are kids, especially the rich twinks) are modern, well-educated sexually, know the appropriate vocabulary, are familiar with trends, freely navigate the Internet, social media and everything related to it, but THEIR EDUCATION AND KNOWLEDGE DOES NOT TRANSLATE TO REAL LIFE. Their professional sex vocabulary does not translate into COMMUNICATION. They are so free in their approach to sex that they are unable to create any real relationship with another person, because each of them is acually blocked in some way, the declared sexual freedom does not translate into freedom IN actual sex. Sex is treated nonchalantly, as something obvious, which results in tension, expectations that "you have to do it", that "everyone does it and they do it WELL", being "boyfriend ready" means being "sex ready", that good sex is kinky sex and necessarily penetration. They study sex and vocabulary diligently to be good at it and they think that all this is enough, that using the "safe word", "consent" will replace… the trust that should be simply developed. They do all this to avoid problems in sex and relationships, and it turns out that knowing all trends and professional vocabulary and behavior actually leads to disaster. What else catches my eye is that almost no one starts "vanilla", everyone immediately jumps into the deep end of the pool 😃 Not only that, no one is dating. I've already seen this in Only Friends, where dating, once it appeared, was also kind of "task-oriented" and had to be "perfect". In fact, everything has to be perfect and if it isn't, everyone, especially rich kids, folds like origami. In my opinion, Zouey should first go to a therapist, because his visible from space physical recoil from touch, combined with a relatively relaxed approach to other sexual behaviors, indicate something and it would be good for him to calmly deal with it before starting a new relationship and get himself hurt. (I hope that Zouey's approach to sex will be more understandable than Mew's, who considered himself a virgin until anal sex) Again, what I see in young people today, and what TV series are starting to show: recording, taking photos, using it to humiliate others, living on social media… tbh, I feel very sorry for young people. And finally, the rich kids and their complete detachment from reality, living in a sparkly world of illusions and fantasies. Watching Soong and First was painful.

For me, this series is an insight into the world of a group of young people. This reality is, of course, exaggerated, but it shows how much everything has changed. We were also lost because we lacked proper education and had to cope by "trial and error". We simply had no idea about many things because we didn't even know about them! Now young people are also lost, only this time they have ALL the knowledge at their disposal, they are held accountable for this knowledge, they have access to the most hardcore porn. Maybe I'm wrong, but maybe that's what this series is trying to show us? Or am I looking into it too much? 😊 Anyway, after episode 3, this is how I decided to approach it (it can of course change, for now my opinion about Playboyy changes after each ep, it's wild)

Just like in Euphoria and Only Friends, here too, it's difficult to really like any of the characters...🤔

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

What do you think of the new generation of Hollywood starts?

You already talked about Timmy who by the way is a miscast Wonka for sure

What do you think about:

-Tom Holland (he surprised me in The Crowded room, he has more range than I thought)

-Zendaya(I have yet to be proved wrong about her being loved only for her beauty, fashion sense and unproblematic image)

-Saoirse Ronan (to me she is like Timmy, but femal version)

-Florence Pugh (I think she is good,probably the best of the bunch)

Ooh, I like this 😊

Tom Holland - Doesn't say much to me, he was the Spiderman guy, absolutely nothing impressive. But I did watch an episode of The Crowded Room and he was fine. He's not some incredible talent or a charismatic guy. He's another English bloke that can act without making a total fool of himself.

Zendaya - I know she is all the rave and she was praised a lot for her role in Euphoria, but I don't have any interest in her. Plenty of actresses stand out for their beauty and fashion style (curated by amazing stylists). And I guess being "unproblematic" brings a lot of points. I don't know, I'm not really into Disney stars turned into serious actors. I don't have anything against them, I just find them boring. Except Ryan Gosling, lol.

Saoirse Ronan - Now we're talking. I was amazed by her acting in Atonement. I saw it when it was released and I couldn't believe we were the same age. I also like her career choices and I hope she sticks to interesting projects. I'm so done with good actors signing contracts for movies based on comics or some damn franchize only for money. I think Saoirse made some good choices career-wise. Good films with a bit of a mass appeal, but not too much.

Florence Pugh - Oh, Florence is good. Really good. I've seen her films since she made her debut, before becoming a star. She has a distinct quality and the ability to work with a mediocre script and still deliver a good performance. Case in point, Don't Worry, Darling. Her acting skills stood out even more in the scenes she had with Harry Styles who was absolutely awful (stick to singing or whatever).

[ellestray]

so. i was lucky enough to see skz at lollapalooza.

my entire body still hurts and my throat is just sore from all the shouting, but lord. i've never been happier about some pain.

i cannot express how wonderful they were. so caring. so passionate. you could absolutely feel their energy and gratitude through their performance, even from the back.

i usually don't move a lot during concerts (although i'm always having the time of my life!), i like soaking in the music and watching intently what the artist worked so hard on. but lollapalooza honestly is a blur.

it was so natural to dance and sing along. honestly, although there was an absurd amount of people, it felt like a safe space where i could care-freely be myself. it just reminded me that beyond the bad apples on social media, the community skz built is at the image of the group- nonjudgmental, all about kindness and, ultimately, music.

i also need to make a quick comment on bangchan- i've always known he's a born leader, of course, everyone does. but seeing his leadership in action during the concert was really different. i've gained so much more respect and appreciation for him, if that's even possible. i've been to a lot of concerts, but i don't think i've ever seen an artist take so much time to ensure the public was safe and anyone feeling sick could be escorted. i know it should be the bare minimum, but he was so genuine and gentle with his worry and kindness, i couldn't help but feel this new found love for him. he also did an amazing job at dealing with such a large crowd and leading the performance overall, still giving every member space to express themselves and hyping them up on stage- he was just everything.

oh, and haven. such an emotional moment. the euphoria we all felt from miroh just being performed. the fireworks. the boys being oh so happy on stage. the crowd dancing around with the biggest smile on their faces. it all felt so safe and comfortable. i wish the kids could've witnessed the scene from the point of view of the public- it was truly magical.

after the end of the concert, as i was walking away from the stage hand in hand with my friend, we saw a little girl with her mom- the image really marked me, for some reason. we shortly talked to them, and this little girl was brought to tears by the moment. the mom was so, so genuinely happy for her daughter, and she also was feeling all this happiness we were sharing from the experience. it made me realize that stray kids makes music for everyone, not just an audience that could turn into full time fans. this performance wasn't just for the little girl who had been dreaming of seeing her idols, it also was for the parents, for the people that didn't know them, for anyone that needed a breath of fresh air after difficult times.

before the concert, i met so many stays. the way we all naturally got along just reminded me of how kind the community skz fostered is. those stays and i went to the eiffel tower at night together and talked for hours, without even knowing each other- it'll be a moment i'll cherish forever.

i have so much more to say, but it's difficult to find the words to describe everything that surrounded this concert. i'm just filled with pride and newfound energy. i've been going through hard times lately, but in those moments, i felt free and at peace.

thank you, stray kids, and thank you stays for being so kind :')

[apatheticlexicographer]

do you think euphoria is child pornography?

okay ik this is probably just bait but this is a topic that i actually kind of want to talk abt bc some people genuinely don't seem to understand the nuance.

i haven't seen euphoria and have no interest in it, but AFAIK all of the actors are grown ass adults. that's the first difference. this is the same as what happened with st*ncy in s1: the characters depicted engaging in sex acts are minors, but the actors have the bodies, faces and mentalities of adults. if somebody is super into st*ncy and writes smut abt them then they're at least envisaging adults. if they make sexual comments about the characters or actors (which they do) then it's still fucking weird but it's not "calling finn wolfhard daddy when he was like 13" weird. because that's just straight up disgusting.

within the context of comparing euphoria to a hypothetical byler sex scene in s5 rather than to outright byler porn, i think people still fail to see the exact root of the issue. in cases like euphoria or s1 st*ncy the adults-playing-teens are the first versions of the characters you're introduced to. if all you see of them is their appearance in that show they will only ever be physical adults in your mind's eye. with byler people have seen both the characters and the actors grow up from being literal prepubescent children to teens in the case of the characters and young adults in the case of the actors. even if you only ever watch that piece of media with them appearing in it you'll have literally watched them grow up from a small child. personally seeing them in a sexually explicit situation within the same context of the show would make me feel extremely gross, as somebody who has grown up pretty much alongside the characters.

secondly and crucially, euphoria isn't porn. it's not. from what i've heard it's fairly explicit which is one of many reasons i won't watch it, but it isn't pornography. the whole show is steeped in outrageous/shocking/graphic themes, and while the excessive sexualisation is still problematic and gross it's being used to further the themes and messages of the show. somebody's PWP fanfic about two 14/15yos isn't there as a social statement, it's there for people to, quite frankly, get off to. i apologise for being blunt but if somebody is weird and desperate enough to bust a nut to euphoria that's a them problem.

so basically:

actors who have been on the show since they were ELEVEN in noah's case being included in a sex scene is different from actors who have been on the show since they were in their twenties.

media can portray sexual themes, even explicitly, without being produced or consumed with the intent of sexual gratification.

it's not just that i don't think euphoria isn't child pornography, it categorically is not. it's just problematic and overly sexualised.

i still don't know why you would even ask this??? was this supposed to be some sort of "haha gottem" bc babe u flopped T_T

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Hi, this is gonna be a little messy coz I just write it from feelings. Tw depression, suicide.

I suffer from depression and suicidal tendencies since I was a very small child because of abuse I assume. And by now I can divide my depressive episodes into 2 different categories: shitty and romantic. The shitty ones are the ones were I can't leave my bed, self hate, can't sleep, can't feel a good thing. They are pretty rare by now. And the 2nd category is romantic. It's like the tumblr version of depression. Snuggeling in bed, watching my favorite self destructive scenes from movies and series again, and considering suicide coz life is just too stressful. Those come every few months for a handful of days and during change of seasons to autumn/winter. Which is now, hurray.

Atm there is such an episode, for maybe 3 days idk. They usually only last like 5 days but in season change it can be a few weeks. And now, that I am here, warm and cozy, kinda euphoric watching scene by scene (I have a special list of series/episodes/minutes of triggering stuff for those episodes) I feel that I missed it. Not because I am just comfy in the well-known but I feel like it's nourishing something in me that felt empty for months. I can enjoy songs I disliked for months, I see the world in another light (news aren't as shitty if you think dying is kinda nice), my flashback/nightmares don't suck anymore because, what's the worst that could happen? Nothing! It's an overall euphoria, indestructibility.

They stories I write are different in a way that I can't copy when I am feeling normal. It's giving me a sense of peace that I've never felt from something else (and I've tried a lot of stuff). And I fear (I also feared that before this episode, in a "normal" phase) that I will lose this completely, once I do therapy. This won't stop me from starting therapy because there's also the cptsd and stuff. But... Yeah something inside of me felt empty, my need for peace I assume, for many months and I enjoy it so much and don't want to lose it.

Idk, it's not like you could change how therapy will change me but maybe there is some stuff coming to your mind while reading this?

Hi anon,

I'm sorry about what you've been going through.

How you described the "romantic" aspect of your depression reminded me of self-triggering with PTSD. It's both about engaging in things you know are upsetting, almost for comfort even though it sounds counterintuitive, and often times it is. I think it's possible that when you're in that rut so to speak, you may seek out these things to feel something, or to find comfort in the normalcy of feeling sad and/or depressed.

Identifying how your depression is affecting you is a great place to start as far as therapy and recovery.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[hotch-girl]

even though I didn't watch the reboot, I like reading your thoughts on it lmao. a lot of what I've seen kinda cemented my fears of them doing a reboot in the first place

I heard mentions of some pretty awful ableism earlier in the season. don't know how much it carried through the season but it's still not ok

another dead wife, because apparently they haven't beaten the dead loved one trope into the ground enough ☠

they still managed to underutilized tara and luke from what I've heard. I'm sad that it seems like they just have luke hung up on garcia, even though she has little to no regard for his feelings imo??

I don't know the full story but I'm mad about what they did to tara and rebecca (got caught up in the euphoria of queer characters, forgot it was criminal minds so always expected disappointment agsghfj is that harsh? lol)

I don't even know if emily had anything going for her this season??(other than looking hot)

this is probably really long and opinionated for someone who didn't watch it 😬 sorry lmao

bestie u got everything its like u watched it!! it was so disappointing. the team chemistry was abysmal. emily's development was nonexistent. i saw there was some terrible excuse of how pb didnt want a personal storyline for emily but that didnt mean give her NOTHING professionally 😭. the whole season was mostly cringe penelope scenes, sad rossi, and so much jj and will (which was basically- will we kill will??? keep watching to find out <3)

and u could tell the writers wanted to show the "criminal mind" this season, but all it did was take away any suspense. the unsub was a letdown and i was actually excited about the case at first!!

possible next season spoilers below

in the finale theres this plot twist where the unsub knows about some gov plan called "gold star." in an interview the show runner said they dont even know what its supposed to be yet 💀. i dont want to be mean, but reading the interview it sounds like they had no plan for this season, which is ridiculous because it was only 10 episodes

[iamnotathornbird]

so i posted something yesterday that i later decide to take down after i saw another tumblr post that i felt like was maybe calling me out for what i said, and i felt bad and wondered if i was unintentionally callous. and... i've been thinking about it all day and i still feel bad about it, so i want to clarify some things. i don't know if this is because my emotional response to things can be very different than what everyone else around me seems to act/feel sometimes, or because i just happened to be exposed to a lot of illness and death in my early years, so when it comes to people dying i feel like i tend to react differently than most people i interact with. anyways. i wasn't trying to be like, "jeez, it's so annyoing that angus cloud died so he can't film euphoria season three." that's not how i feel, and that's not what i meant, and i apologize for offending anyone in the fandom or any fans of angus cloud. when i posted about euphoria season three, fexi, and how angus' death IRL means that the character of fez is dead now, too, i wasn't trying to be weird or complaining about the show. for me, i don't have any emotional attachment to angus cloud as a person because i don't know him. i recognize that his death is sad, i feel bad for his family and friends that are left behind to deal with this loss, but it does not affect me the same way from an emotional standpoint, and my reaction to hearing about his death was similar to hearing that paul reubens also recently passed away.

however -- and i recognize that both euphoria and fezco are not "real" -- i do feel emotionally attached to the character of fezco. i've spent many hours over many months fangirling over fexi. i know he wears m&m pajama pants, watches little house on the prairie and have spent way too many times rewatching the NYE couch scene. none of this is real though. i know this. but i have no clue who angus cloud was as a person, and as a fan, i've always felt like it's okay to separate the character from the actor, because it's a role they're playing, and not necessarily who they are as a person (even if they may share similarities). so, just as i've genuinely cried over the deaths of other fictional characters (al giardello, dobby, finnick odair), who i also recognize are not real, it doesn't mean that i didn't feel genuine emotions over their fictional deaths. because, for me, it felt like loss, and brought up feelings that i've experience when people close to me IRL have died. if we never saw fezco grace our screens again because sam levinson decided to write him off of the show, or angus cloud got another acting gig, that would be one thing, and i wouldn't feel sad. but that's not what happened. fezco o'neill will never grace our screens again, because the man who so beautifully portrayed him lost his battle with mental health, and that is a tragedy.

[decoy-sammy]

I.. Have just finished watching the entirety of Gravity Falls... And OH MY GOD HAVE I NOT FELT LIKE THIS IN A LONG WHILE.

ITS SO HARD TO EXPLAIN. ITS. WEIRD FEELINGS. I DUNNO. OMG.

[Warning, stupid effing rant incoming! :] ] /Also spoilers for the show as you can tell./

. UFGHREGJ

JHURTHREIOHGUIORWEHGHREUGHUOWDFHG

SGUYREI YGREI8YGI8REYG8IEYRSUIGFIEAISTG RTYUIRTWGHAQ B6Y2 46TYJEUJHW54YGH

....Sorry 'bout that just now.

So. I've never been able to watch it when it was still airing on TV since all the adults in my family hated the show for some reason...Even though my cousins all watched it, so I could see snippets of the shows and stuff they've watched when we've gone over to their houses during summer etc.-Also quick fun fact, I used to have nightmares ever since I've seen that one scene in S1 where they've gone to Stan's mind, like, you know/remember that part where Bill put a hole in the middle of Dipper's chest..? Yeah.. Got PTSD while watching it.. :< Would wake up at weird hours thinking about my left hand having a hole in it just like what's happened to Dipper, but since we live in 3D it was all anatomically correct and had skin closing off the flesh at weird angles and since the body still worked with the hole in it I could see all the weird movements of the flesh because of that..... I think this may be why I've hated body horror so much.......---Got a bit carried there just now, whoops! Back to mushy, disgustingly mortal feelings!

Actually the reason I decided to re-visit the show was since The Book Of Bill got published! Gotta thank ckret2 for posting about Gravity Falls 24/7, kinda how I kept up to date on this stuff. And. Well. Now my dashboards full of Billford stuff but it's fine.

In the Turkish dub, they've made some of the characters sound weirdly dull.. Glad that I got to hear their actual, full-of-personality voices. :> ALSO I'M SO FUCKING GLAD I GOT TO HEAR BILLS VOİCE LİKE THAT OMG. HIS VOICE IS SO COOL. AT FİRST İT SOUNDED KİNDA WEİRD(ironic:3)AND UH. WHATS THE WORD.. "CHEESY"? BUT AFTER A WHİLE İT WAS JUST SO FRİCKİNG. GOOD.

Uhm. So. I know this was supposed to be about my emotions and. uh.. I've decided maybe next time actually... My eyesights currently getting very wonky and I can't form sentences straight. :>

OK. BILL AND FORD ARE GENDER EUPHORIA I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS. THEY FUCKING ARE.

YOU KNOW THOSE WEIRDLY-DRAWN-GUY-BITING-STUFF-MEME-PICTURE-Y THINGS THE TUMBLR USERS USE?? UH. NOT SURE WHAT IT'S CALLED NOR CAN I SHOW A PICTURE CURRENTLY BUT ANY TIME BILL WAS ON SCREEN THATS WHAT I LOOKED LIKE. THAT GUY HAS SOMETHING ABOUT HIM. MOSTLY AT THAT SCENE AT WEIRDMAGGEDON PART 3 WHERE THEY FOUGHT HIM AND FROM THAT POINT ONWARDS. HE. UGRIYGHURGHYIUAGTREUIREGHIUREHGRYG8DRHGIU. OMG. :3 :< :> :) :( :/ :] :D :P HEFUIHRUIGHIDGUIHFIU

I know damn well this ain't a "crush" those fellas have. This hasn't happened since Vex and The Ice Emperor... But this is even bigger. I had to get up and pace around the room just to try and cool down.... I EVEN HAD TO END UP GOING TO THE MARKET JUJST SO GET TO MYSELF.E-AND EVEN MY MOM NOTICED THAT I WAS "ACTING WEIRD". GHIHRUGHFDUH I TRIED TO EXPLAIN HER THAT I WAS WATCHING A SHOW AND STUFF LMFAO. YOU KNOW WHEN YOU GET SO GIDDY THAT IT TURNS TO UTTER JOY AND YOU CANT STOP CACKLING WHILE ACTING ENERGETIC AS FUCK AND BEING NICE TO PEOPLE??? YEAH. THAT HAPPENED OUT THERE.

AND THAT PART WHERE HE CHANGED THE HOLES OF PACIFICAS FATHERS FACE?? NOGRIEDGIOARDJGIOJ I WAS CACKLING SO HARD AFTER THAT. THATS WHEN I HAD TO PACE AROUND THE HOUSE. HGYRYHUIYFDGHYUREHGUF

OK. THERES SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS. I WILL TRY TO NOT CACKLE LIKE A MANIAC JUST CUZ IM THINKING ABOUT A STUPID FUCKING TRIANGE RIGHT NOW. GOODNIGHT!!!!!

[zendyval]

Having watched the film 3 times my unpopular opinion that this film should have been marketed as a romcom and had a rating of pg-13. That scene with Z and the boys in the bed is so funny as oppose to deeply erotic and that would've have allowed most of her fanbase to go see the film because most cabt see r rated films. Like, if they had took out the Patrick lockeroom scene, it would have been pg-13.

I went with friends, and since I've read forums, and concluded that their opinions were unenthusiastic about the movie due to the leads being unknown and for most unattractive, which is crazy to me, and the lack of sexy scenes. Most ppl thought the movie was going to be deeply erotic and were not amused it wasn't.

Not to compare her to Sydney, but Sydney's fanbase is mainly men and young women. She has done nude scenes and sex scenes, and most ppl want to see her films because of it. I love Z, but I don't think she understands she has a large fanbase who isn't of age to watch her stuff or mainly know her from Disney and Spiderman. I even asked ppl who have watched Dune if they rate her performance higher than those role. I think that because that level of scifi is niche, but they still compare her performance as MJ as something they like or prefer. Euphoria is very popular online, but where I'm from, it's not something ppl watch. Like most ppl would watch Emily in Paris or Bridgerton because it's lighthearted and the characters are likeable. I know she wants to do darker roles and can cause her emmy-winning portrayal of Rue, but most of the gp loves her due to her down to earth appearance because she's nice and jovial. Perhaps a role where she plays a character than leans into her skills as a singer and fashionable person would be ideal. I hope it doesn't come across like she can't do darker and unlikeable roles. It's just niche in this current climate. It's why Succesion, although a critical acclaim show, had a low rating throughout Istanbul runtime because ppl don't like unlikeable characters.

It's hard to sell a film where given the thin premise and largely only 3 characters, this film indeed would have been better at 90 minutes rather than 2 hours. Again, I love long, although films, but I'm aware I'm the minority. Most ppl are not film geeks. They prefer blue-collar stories to relate to.

But I think this lends to a question...are people supposed to making movies based on what gets the greatest box office return and what makes the most money or based on the kind of movie they want to make? Because taking Z out of the equation, making Challengers a rom com is not Luca's speed. I don't think you're going to get Luca Guadagnino to make a PG-13 rom com, and I've got nothing against rom coms but it seems like you're saying the movie should have been a thing that's different from what it was meant to be, which then makes it an entirely different movie

Also the film is generally well received...so I'm not sure I totally get all of it. If they made the changes you or your friends want then likely a lot of the people that loved it would no longer love it. I get film is subjective so it's cool if certain things didn't vibe for you or your friends, but I don't think we can pretend that the movie also did work for a lot of people on many levels.

I also think as someone mentioned yesterday, I'm not sure cutting out one or two scenes would get them a PG-13 though just because cursing more than an at minimum amount still gets you an R rating, but I'm not sure on that one.

Also whether one likes Challengers or not, or thinks it's a good movie or not, or even if they like Z as an actress or not, I don't necessarily think it's her responsibility to only stick with making movies that her fans can see. First I'd argue most of the generations that grew up with her on Disney are now over 18. Maybe not the ones from Spidey or ones catching her in reruns.

But I also think it comes back to, are studios making movies by number to get the highest possible box office or are we letting directors and filmmakers tell the stories they want to tell--for me the answer is somewhere in the middle because I get the bottom line matters, but I also suspect had Z never gotten involved with Challengers, this movie would have been made mostly for art house crowds. It only got a wide release because of Z's fame.

I definitely think this is a niche film, as is Euphoria despite it's popularity, but I'm not sure I think any actor or actress should feel confined to only take a small variety of roles so as to maximize box office.