#i know people say not to over analyze micro expressions but like! this is an intentional one!

[gorgynei]

top ten people who are having a totally normal one after hearing someone say theyre sorry for your situation

[tomscumdump]

DRESSING ROOM

-18+

“HOWS THIS outfit baby?” I asked excitedly, placing my hands on my hips and doing a little spin. the little outfit I wore was a torn up black fitted tank top, with a matching micro black skirt. his eyes analyzed me from head to toe. he stood up, adjusting his pants as he walked over to me. “liebe, you know you look amazing and everything.” I rolled my eyes and walking back into the dressing room, he followed after shutting the door.

tom pushed his body up close to mine, snaking his hands around my waist to my exposed stomach. he planted soft kisses on my neck biting gently. he fidgeted with the waistband of the skirt I wore.

“no.” I chuckled softly as I pushed him off me, he groaned quietly and threw his hands to his sides. “baby cmon.. why not?” he said pouting, but I knew he was trying to hide that stupid smirk. I let out a sarcastic laugh as I turned to hit

“because I’m not having sex in a dressing room, idiot.”

I said laughing a little, he sat down clearly mad with me. I scoff and slid off the current shirt I had tried on, revealing the lacy bra I had on, the hem of the matching panties peaking out from the skirt as I bent over. he groaned and let out a scoff. “your killing me y/n.” I giggled and turned around.

he still had on his pissy expression and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. I walked over to him and gently grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “baby, we are in a public area. no.” I gave his cheek a quick kiss, he stood up and slammed me against the wall harshly. my eyes widened in shock “tom what the fu—“ he quickly cuts me off by smashing his lips against mine. I moaned quietly, I pushed his lips off mine and scoffed.

“tom, i would so love to fuck you right now. but you know people would hear us, I just can’t be quiet.” he planted harsh kisses on my neck, I let out a little whimper. “let me handle that then.” he said with a smirk, gliding his tongue against his lip ring. he slid off my skirt and my panties along with it. I tried to speak again, to take it slow and not to harsh. but he slapped his hand against my mouth, silencing me quickly. he ripped off his belt and jeans, then rammed his cock into my tight pussy.

my eyes rolled back and my back arched, he bit his lip in pleasure. “this tight pussy could make me cum on the spot.” he grunted, letting out a breathy laugh. I let out a muffled whine in response, he continued to pound me as he spat explicit sentences at me. my hands flew to his biceps for support, I couldn’t hold myself up at this point. he grabbed my thigh, placing it around his hip allowing him to dig deeper into me.

“tom- t-to ~ngh~ much!!” I cried, but he didn’t care. his veiny hand muffling my whimpers and moans. his free hand flew to my bundle of nerves, rubbing rapid circles my whines became more frequent as that knot began to form in my stomach.

“I’m g-gonna cum!!” I moaned out as my eyes fluttered due to the pleasure. he pulled me closer and grunted in my ear. “no your not slut, you cum when I say so.” I whined in response, nodding my head as I obeyed his every word. my legs shook here and there, his middle and ring finger still rubbing circles on my clit. his huge cock stretching me out completely. “if you make one fucking sound your not cumming.” I screwed my eyes shut and threw my head back, jesus christ I wanted to cum so fucking bad, but when tom said something he meant it. so I listened to him and shut my mouth, pursing my lips, knawing at my bottom lip, anything to keep those lewd noises from coming out.

“good fucking girl, keeping that pretty little mouth shut while I pound you. you like that? you like when I fuck you senseless slut?” I nodded my head, my eyes struggling to stay open as he stared directly in my eyes, his praising only getting me closer and closer.

his thrust getting sloppy, I could tell he was close. he grabbed my waist and flipped me around, pressing my body up against the mirror as he pounded me from the back, his hand snaking down back to my clit rubbing fast circles again. my eyes rolled right to the back of my head, feeling his tip ram right into that sweet spot I desired.

he grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back forcing me to look into the mirror as he fucked me. “look at you, little whore taking my cock s’good hm?” every word he said to me put me under a spell. he could say anything he wanted to me and I’ll take it like the good girl I am for him.

I felt that familiar knot form in my stomach again, and I knew for a fact he was close too. the way his thrust got sloppier and sloppier told me everything I needed to know, I thrusted my ass back just to feel more of that pleasure I longed for. his groans and grunts becoming more frequent as well.

he threw his head back slightly, as his hand slid off my mouth I whined out. “gonna ~mhh~ cum..!” I said out of breath. my legs shaking, my eyes screwed shut and my back arched. “fuckkkkkk, cum baby cum.” he grunted as he grasped my waist harshly, slamming his dick into me.

our skin slapping together loudly one last time, as we both came together. “ohhhh shitttt…” tom dragged out, letting out a breathy laugh as his warm cum coated my walls. some dripping out of my used pussy “fuck!! oh fuck yess!!” I moaned out quite loudly. I didn’t care anymore, and neither did tom. he thrusted into me once more, riding out that high we both loved and enjoyed.

I let out a quiet whimper once more as he slipped out of me. feeling empty from his long veiny cock. he dug his middle and ring finger into my pussy, tasting our mixed juices. I stared at him with a tired smirk on my face as he stared back with that same stupid smirk.

he helped me put my clothes back on, and he put his on. “I changed my mind baby, I don’t need any of this.” I said in a tired tone as I threw the outfits I had matched together onto the bench. tom picked them back up and held them. “no, they look gorgeous on you baby.”

I looked up and smiled at him, and he smiled back. “also, I’d like to rip them off to pound you again.” he smirked, playing with his lip ring. knowing how much I loved it when he did that. I rolled my eyes and scoffed as we walked out the store, we knew some people heard. as we paid and left, one of the store clerks had gave us a weird look. we laughed it off as we made our way to the next store.

“.. so?” he looked into my eyes and quirked his eyebrow up, I already knew what he was asking. i sighed and gave him a weak grin I rolled my eyes and bit my lip. “cmon say it, I know you wanna.” he teased on, I groaned and hit him playfully. I chuckled in defeat.

“.. maybe quickies in public aren’t so bad.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ 

ahhh !! I really liked this idea, i got this idea bc I dreamed about it happening with me n tom hehe :333 also im literally so thankful for all the love yall give me on my post omgomg ?? yall freaks r amazing, love you guys 4eva 💋💋

[anotherghoul666]

Oh no :( sleep token seems to have awoken something else in me. What is it about watching masked, menacing figures appreciate each other on stage that’s so addictive? Gahhh

So I'm pretty sure this was a thirst ask which, so valid anon, my own thirst for Vessel has hit me like a truck, and I could leave it at that or answer with a joke, but! I am me, I over-analyze and over-intellectualize shit, and you asked what it was about him that's addictive, so here we are. On today's episode of "AnotherGhoul takes a simple asks and turns it into a whole damn essay": masks, monsterfucking and stage personas, or why Vessel from Sleep Token is hot (with a nod to Ghost). For me*. I'll add, why he captivates me*, because everyone's thought process and erotic sources are different, but maybe you'll recognize yourself in something I describe here! Under a read more because I went WAY OVERBOARD WITH THIS XD

Option 1: the mask kink So, I've had a mask kink for a long time. I've had a name for it for maybe a decade. I got to wear my first full masks in an arousal context maybe around 2014-2015. I acquired my first mask in 2019 for play. I jumped in the puddle with both feet within the past two years or so in terms of wearing masks and making people wear masks. But I can also remember early memories when I was a kid of being very very very drawn to masked characters in cartoons or video games, so I'd say my propensity for them has been there for the vast majority of my life.

Masks do it for me because I highly eroticize the removal of human features or aspects. I find the consensual removal, or giving up, of humanity extremely exciting. Think, removal of speech through a gag or a simple rule, so that one of the main things that make us human, language, cannot be used during play. Or objectification, where a human would be made into an object consensually, or treated like one, be it playing a chair, a foot rest, a table, a decoration, a sex toy, etc. I enjoy the idea of a human, with its dignity and morals, consenting to being used like a mere disposable piece of plastic. The removal, blurring or limitation of core human features turns me on.

So it's easy to see why masks in general do it for me. It erases the human facial features, or replaces them with artificial features, to different degrees depending on which mask is chosen. It makes someone look less human. It separates the human from the object. Inside a mask, any micro-expressions you make don't matter. You may make a face or try to signal an emotion but that's not gonna translate. You cannot appeal to anyone's empathy from within a mask. From the outside, all the other person sees is the flat planes of the mask that don't move or change or adjust with the wearer's emotions. There is no expectation of being able to "read" a face when it's masked. No pressure to figure out the right expression and meaning. Which is probably comforting for me in terms of my neurodivergence and my difficulty with reading facial expressions in the first place. The mask doesn't move. There's nothing to read.

Now, I also know, for neurotypical people specifically, apparently masks are super hot because of the accent on the eyes. Your typical mask will have lessened facial features but slits or openings for the eyes, so the person inside can see. Naturally your gaze will glide on the featureless face and find the eyes. For NTs, whose brains are made to read people's eyes, "the eyes are the window to the soul" and all that jazz, eyes are often a person's most attractive feature. A mask accentuates someone's strongest and most unique trait. I don't subscribe to that. I prefer masks to dehumanize, not draw attention to the humanity under. The masks I find the hottest will have very little sight possible inside (added sensory play aspect here) and from the outside, covered eyes or weird eyes, as long as I don't get to see much of the wearer's eyes, it gets bonus points.

Which leads me to Vessel's mask. Inhuman face shape, check. No mouth (assumed no speech), check. No nose, check. In this case there are eyes, but there are six, not two, which I find very hot because of the monster aspect I'll speak about later, but also, they're covered inside. There's a mesh inside that allows him to see out, but we can't see in. So, no eyes, check. There is nothing for me to grasp there, nothing for me to read. My eyes glide and slide over the smooth surface of the mask with nowhere to grab onto. It's an endless search, so my brain can stop searching for clues, and that's relaxing. He could smile, he could be furious, he could cry, he could be uninterested, I'd never know. All I see is a mysterious face, the erotic appeal of anonymity on full display, the lack of humanity, the removed features. It's a 10/10 mask for me. (I like his stage mask less because of the cut out mouth, but I understand 100% the need for his mouth to be uncovered and unrestrained because the man has PIPES and he couldn't sing to the full extend of his abilities while hindered.)

(All of this applies to the Ghost masks too. Imma dip into Ghost because this remains a Ghost-centric blog. But like, the masks are a huge part of why I write what I write, and why I find the ghouls so hot. The shiny, smooth surface of the masks. The replacement of all the musician's unique features for an ensemble of pre-determined uniform fake features. The lack of individuality. The lack of names. The dehumanization. Some masks show more eyes than others, some masks have more mouth space or show nose more than others, but all the eras still appeals to a degree.)

Option 2: teratophilia Another thing I eroticize a lot is monsters / inhuman monstrous creatures. That would be known as teratophilia, the sexual attraction to monsters, or monsterfucking as it's been popularized online. It can also cross over with exophilia, the sexual attraction to alien or extraterrestrial creatures, for some people. Basically, non-human weird creatures are hot. This is not a new concept at all, look at any historical mythology, people were down to fuck monsters thousands of years ago. It exploded in popularity on the internet within the last decade or so (tho it's been around since the creation of the web), with big movies like The Shape of Water or Marvel's Venom that spawned basically a tsunami of terato online, and the internet was never the same, for the viewing pleasure of us monsterfuckers. (*important note to please Harkness Test all your monsters before moving forward with the monsterfucking. If that test is news to you, please research it first.)

Monstrous, inhuman creatures are hot to me, similarly to masks, because of the removal of the human experience and aspects. Monsters, weirdly enough, are safer than humans. Monsters tend to be direct and instinctual creatures. A monster's level of danger or threat is readily visible and apparant. They may have fangs or claws or be huge or more powerful than a human, that shit tends to be obvious. I can deal with obvious danger. I may even eroticize said obvious danger. A human's level of danger is very difficult to determine. Humans know how to lie, they can manipulate and deceit, they can hide, their form doesn't betray immediate threat like a monster's form does, and so, humans feel unsafe. I'll take a direct, transparent danger over a hidden threat I might never notice any day.

Monsters also tend to not understand or value human concepts. They exist outside of human constructs and that has immense appeal to me. I can't imagine a monster giving much of a fuck about social constructs like gender or the binary; a monster's not gonna assume things about you and force you into boxes based on how you look; a monster's most likely not gonna give a fuck about neurodivergences or about your mental health status, positive or negative; a monster's not gonna give a fuck about physical health or disability. That's the core appeal, for example, of The Shape Of Water and why it made such a big splash in the terato community and converted lots of people over: the human lead character is mute, and a core part of her romance with the amphibian monster in the film is that it loves her for her. It doesn't know she's even disabled, because how would he know that humans talk and "need" a voice to be socially accepted. We shouldn't need a voice, or any other "default" capability to fit in. Everyone should be valued equally, yet in human society we are not, abelism is an unfortunately reality, but in the eyes of a non-human creature, all these social standards are meaningless. Monsters are a door to radical acceptance.

Which, once again, leads me back to Vessel. So, in the lore of the band, and I quote, "Sleep Token are a masked, anonymous collective of musicians united by their worship of an ancient deity crudely dubbed 'Sleep', since no modern tongue can properly express its name. This being once held great power, bestowing ancient civilizations with the gift of dreams, and the curse of nightmares." Now, immediately that makes my brain jump to Lovecraftian horror, the Chtulu mythos, eldritch horror, etc. It conjures images of an immemorial creature with powers far beyond the human brain's conceptualization capabilities, a deity of a thousand eyes and mouths and pure darkness and tentacles, a creature that would corrupt the feeble human mind on first sight and break our psyche to fragments with a blink. This? This is the shit for me. That's my kryptonite. I adore eldritch horror (while being conscious of the extreme ethical and moral problems in the source material, yes I know Lovecraft was a racist piece of shit, I hate it too). Tentacles are deeply, deeply ingrained in my brain and DNA as pure arousal triggers (thank you, random hentai videos from the early 2000s). So like. What more do I need. I'm already in love. Vessel. He's a vessel. He channels this Sleep deity. He receives. He takes in this deity, its unconceivable power. A vessel, the term by itself, the concept by itself, is erotic. A vessel is useless unless filled. It's made to be filled. To receive. To carry. To hold. A vessel can only take. A vessel is always open and ready. A vessel may overflow and make a mess. A vessel is an object. A vessel is intrinsically feminine. So what can Sleep's Vessel do. What power would he hold within, what has he received. With his faceless face and his blackened body, remains of a human, overtaken by a cosmic monster of Sleep and dreams. Made to worship. He dedicates his life to worship. Active worship of ink and voice and energy on stage. Vessel receives and holds. What could be give. Of course I'm gonna think of tentacles and monstrous, unavoidable, mind corrupting sex. It's like, right there. It's in the name. It's in the deep marine biology theme of This Place Will Become Your Tomb. Fall For Me? Please, you give me this visual and this command? I'll fall.

(This also applies to Ghost. The entire "the ghouls are demons" vibe the fandom has given them is in huge part why I'm so attracted to them and write them in erotic scenarios. They are not human. They're demons. They're creatures from hell. I love to play with their lack of understanding of the human form and human social norms in my fics. They don't understand rejection, so they may not reject based on human constructs. They have powers tied to the elements and the void and hell mythology that makes them strong and scary. They have the fangs and claws and horns and devil tails; they can shift their shape and look more demonic with crazy tongues and wings and hands and feet. Nothing about the ghouls is human beyond the general shape of their flesh and that's pure seduction for me.)

Option 3: stage presence Anonymity is a weird beast that radically changes how a person acts and feels. Anonymity allows for a process called disinhibition, where a human's natural behavior inhibitors (eye contact, to read someone's expression, fear of being judged, fear of being seen, fear of getting caught, discomfort with pain, etc.) are diminished or nullified. We all knows disinhibition very well, because we experience it online every day. It's what allows us on tumblr to be thirsty motherfuckers this openly, while we likely wouldn't be as horny on main in person with other people. It's what allows trolls to thrive and cause harm; allows people to send mean asks or comments without feeling bad about it. Through anonymity online, we're allowed to post whatever we want, and not face the consequences of having someone's eyes directly on us, of being observed, of seeing the hurt we may cause on someone's face. If we make someone cry online, we likely will never know and we'll never see the tears, for example, and tears are an evolutionary tool to show emotion and discourage an attacker from causing further harm through a presumed level of empathy. When anonymous, you are invulnerable. Unreachable. You are the ether. You are the void. You are formless. You have no weakness. Nothing can get to you. Anonymity is power. You cannot be judged, for who can prove that it was you. To be anonymous is to be free.

History is chock full of the use of anonymity and masks to justify a change in behavior. Just think back to masquerades or carnivals. Events that often devolved into pure debauchery, because when masked, you could do anything you truly wanted. You could have sex and act wanton, you could drink and overindulge, you could party and be open about who you are inside, because nobody knows it's you, and nobody will know come morning. Masks were a key to freedom, a class eraser, a way for different classes to mingle without consequence. To wear a mask changes how you act. Once protected, once hidden, once safe, a person will act according to their true desires and whims. Masks allow us to be unhinged. And that's what happens on stage with masked performers.

In the mask, Vessel can act as unhinged and inhuman as he wants. He can let music consume him, make him move weirdly, erratically, dance around and contort himself like he does on stage, because it's not him doing it. Whoever is inside the mask (and no, I don't want to know. For now at least.), on stage it's not him. It's Vessel. And Vessel is a conduit for the music and the god. That's why he moves so strangely. Why he's so "creature". He doesn't have to be a human on stage, he's in the mask, in the paint, in the costume, nobody can ever hold anything he does up there against him, nobody knows who he is. The freedom he must feel. That's also why he can feel up on his band mates like he does. He touches them, encircles them, gyrates and grinds against them, appreciates them as you say, because he's not himself, and they're not themselves. This is all fine to do, because it's Vessel and the numbers, it's the characters. He feels his music, and his music is sex. It's so fucking sexy. His voice, the bass, the drones, Sleep Token is incredibly erotically charged music, like music with heavy themes of worship and power and surrender tends to be. Vessel sings lyrics of obsessive love and devotion, of violence, of consumming each other. He feels himself. His bandmates feel themselves. They feel each other. There's so much tension in their stage antics. They sing of sex: "Oh, and my love Did I mistake you for a sign from God Or are you really here to cut me off? Or maybe just to turn me on Cause these days I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man Or maybe make a good girl bad" Why not act like it.

(I guarantee the anonymity disinhibition is what happens to the Ghost ghouls too. Not that they're anonymous anymore, and they know that, but on stage, in the moment, the disconnect between who they are as a person and who their stage personas are in Ghost is visible to the naked eye. Yes there are tells with how they move, but in Ghost it's like everything is turned up to 11 on the intensity dial. Because they're not *them*, they're the ghouls, so they can have more fun, be more free, more unhinged. They're more silly, they make more jokes, they fuck around with each other more than any of them does in their "real" unmasked bands. The ghoul personas allow them to be a magnified version of themselves, because it's not them, they're behind masks, they can sell the sex more, the tension, they can go theatrical with the jokes, it's characters doing it, not the musicians. I saw Per Eriksson live with Blootbath, I saw him with Ghost. Are there tells it's the same guy? Sure. Did I ever see Per lick his guitar picks and mime jacking off on his audience in Blootbath? No. Would the guy think of doing that shit in his "real" life? I'm sure. Dude's got "Sodomizer" tattooed across his stomach, I bet he goes ham on the sex jokes. But like. Unmasked in person, he's more soft spoken, he's more shy, even on stage, in the absolute blistering agfression of Blootbath's music, covered in fake blood, he still holds back the jokes and the sex. That's allowed for his Ghost character, but not for Per Eriksson the guitarist.)

Option 4: all of the above For me it's the combo. Inhuman masked face + monster undertones + anonymity disinhibition = arousal trigger / fascination for a character.

tl;dr: enjoy Vessel, enjoy the guys appreciating each other, thirst over them, it's all great, as long as you Worship and ideally support them (within your means) with streams or merch or concert tickets if they have earned it in your mind.

[my-mt-heart]

I have some thoughts on Daryl’s arc that I want to share, but I’ll hold off a day or two because 1) it might get ugly and 2) I think Carol/Melissa deserve the spotlight a lot more right now.

Just seeing her on my screen again is a huge relief after so much uncertainty over the past year and a half, and of course the performance is insanely good. What I'm most grateful for is the fact that Carol has a clear emotional drive. We don't have to analyze her micro expressions for hours or turn over every stone to get a rough idea of her headspace. She says it herself. She's looking for Daryl. She's already gone to great lengths to find him when he doesn't turn up at the time he said he would, and thanks to the teaser, we know she'll keep going as long as there's hope he's still alive. I want to see where her determination takes her (once she gets across the ocean I mean), and obviously I want to watch the inevitable reunion between her and Daryl. It's the most anticipated scene of S2, so it needs to be big. Like, unambiguous canon big. It's what the characters and the fans deserve.

Bear with me though because I do have some issues with Carol's first appearance in 106. “God, MT, can't you just look on the bright side?” I could, but then I’d have to lower my standards, which enables AMC to keep lowering their standards when it comes to telling Daryl's and Carol's story. Theirs has always been an inspiring one, not because of all the people they've saved or all the things they've blown up, but because of the emotional core. They're two lost souls who find each other after the world ends, raising each other up to become stronger than the people around them, the audience, and even they themselves ever imagined. Their story is deep. It offers hope to fans facing their own challenges in life, so it has to be handled with a lot of care. Cheap gimmicks are beneath them, but cheap gimmicks are what we get in this scene.

It's a little bit like S7 when she runs into a group of saviors on the road, taking them out with a gun hidden up her sleeve. It reminds me that this woman is one of the most resourceful badasses in all of TWDU. And as a Caryl shipper, it delights me to see her ride off on Daryl’s bike—also badass for the record. To me though, when the nostalgia/shipper's high wears off, these things feel like distractions. There’s not really a compelling twist, like for example, finding out that Carol stowed away on the boat Daryl was on and had been in France the whole time. There's not enough momentum to keep me hyped through the long hiatus. The teaser does the vast majority of that right now, which is cool, but I want to see that same effort to market the show to me in the show itself. I want good writing. I want the connective tissue. I want the payoff. Will we ever see how Carol learned to ride a motorcycle in the first place or do I have to fill in the blanks myself just like I had to do throughout most of S11? Will we get Caryl beats that outdo the extremely unnecessary and OCC nunbaiting beats?

I don't trust Zabel to deliver everything I'm looking for. I don't think he's very clear on who Carol is, what she represents to the fans, or what her relationship with Daryl represents to the fans. Melissa does understand all of that though, so I have hope her input will make a difference. I've said it many times, and I'll say it again. I'm so happy she's back. I'm happy she seems so excited to be back. She deserves everything she's ever wanted for Carol.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

i'm cry laughing some people on twitter are now saying "izzy bashing" needs to be tagged in fics. how did these people ever survive watching this show where izzy is the CANON ANTAGONIST i'll never know

benefit of the doubt but i think most of them have gotten to this point gradually. when they first watched the show they were not attached to izzy the way they are now. i know for a lot of people it was blorbo at first sight with izzy but i've also seen izzy enjoyers say they didn't like him at first, and then fandom made them care about him.

like i'm pretty sure for a lot of ppl it started off with isolating themselves from ppl who made posts that they didnt like, like ppl who criticized ofmd for being based on two real people with direct connections to actual real-world slave trade (which is an incredibly valid thing to criticize abt ofmd).

another one that i think funneled a lot of fans towards being so delusionally attached to izzy was people pointing out or complaining about the disproportionate amount of fan content for izzy compared to prominent characters of color—which is a consistent issue in fandom no matter what the media, and is also a very easy one for people to be uncomfortable with whenever they see it get pointed out. people venting that "fans care too much abt this white man" often make fans who care abt that white man very defensive right off the bat, and then rather than engage with why they feel defensive or question if maybe their enjoyment of this character is fueled by implicit bias (which it might not be, to be clear! im not saying—and i have never said—that everyone who enjoyes izzy likes him for racist reasons), they stop listening to the conversation abt white favoritism and continue blorboposting as much as they want. it's incredibly easy for fans to brush off this convo as "just starting drama" and avoid the topic altogether because "fandom is for fun!" and they dont want to think abt difficult topics like racism and implicit bias, they just want to enjoy their blorbos in peace.

so they kept narrowing the takes they were seeing until they were in an echo chamber that kept moving more and more towards complete woobification of izzy hands. these people are now looking at the show entirely through izzy's pov, making posts abt how sad it is that none of the other characters are ever nice to him, how frustrating the show is from his perspective, how it feels to be deeply in love with someone who doesn't love you back. they've stared at gifs of con's micro-expressions and read angsty fanfiction and looked at endless izzy fanart and their entire ofmd fandom experience revolves around empathizing with this one character even tho the show itself continually makes him the butt of the joke.

at this point, telling these people to rewatch the show doesn't even matter. they've spent so much time over-analyzing every single one of izzy's scenes to the point where the emotional responses they get from these scenes are not the emotional responses anyone would have watching the show for the first time. they've warped the entire first season to fit their version of the show and are forgetting how often the show itself bashes izzy.

and the icing on the cake is the trolling. there's like, one or two people on here who go around sending anon hate and leaving nasty comments on instagram posts and harassing people on twitter for... like, i would say "for liking izzy" or even "for saying positive things about izzy" but like. i've gotten these messages, and the most sympathetic i've ever been to izzy was the post i made like "maybe he's mean bc he has chronic IBS. i'd actually understand him more if that were the case." so when i get these messages it's easier for me to just laugh them off bc it's so obviously just someone trying to make me upset, but people who do care about izzy (a lot of them being the same people who avoided engaging with the "why does fandom care so much abt white characters" convo) get these absolutely horrible messages about how they deserve to get hate crimed and they should kill themselves. and these fans who didn't want to even see vaguely negative posts abt izzy bc they just want to enjoy fandom in peace are now like "im targeted for just liking a character!"

so that's how we get to people saying that "izzy bashing" needs to be tagged. never mind that their definition of "bashing" almost certainly includes things that are not bashing but are just things that contradict the way they headcannnon him.

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

For autism awareness month, I’ll be talking about my autism. I have a complicated relationship with it. I’ll readily admit that it’s my autism that makes me a bit too much of a Zelda fan, a bit too much of a Pokémon fan, etc.. Whenever I get into a new thing, I go in neck deep and it consumes my thoughts. On the one hand, I get to micro analyze the thing and appreciate it for all its worth. On the other, I sometimes wish I could just like multiple things at once and give me other things to talk about when I’m with my friends, instead of turning to the internet and ranting into the void. I created this blog almost six years ago because at the time I only had one friend who also liked Zelda, and I knew it would be cruel to unload all my autistic Zelda ramblings on him. Same reason I made the Pokémon side blog.

Effective communication does not come easily for me. I’m sometimes unaware of the tone I’m speaking in, and I have very poor control over my facial expressions. Basically I can’t hide my emotions for shit, which can be bad in some scenarios. I miss some nonverbal cues. On the flip side, this has made me work incredibly hard to become an effective communicator. I know that if things are left unsaid, they may go uncommunicated. I know to say what I mean and clarify everything that needs to be. I hate that I over analyze everything I say and hear said to me, but oh well.

As a white, cishet man, I need to be aware of the power dynamics in my relationships. I need to be cognizant of the ways my words and actions can be perceived differently by women, minorities, and other people with whom there is some imbalance of power. I think this is how all people in my position should approach things, but for me and my autism, this is especially difficult. So I verbally acknowledge it with the person so they know I’m trying.

For example, a good friend of mine used to only know me as the author of Oops! All Links. He looked up to me as a writer and put me on a pedestal, which I understand and is completely natural as a parasocial relationship. He is also seven whole years younger than me. At the time, I was 21 and he was 14. When we started to DM and actually become friends, I told him explicitly that I recognized the power imbalance in our friendship, and he should feel absolutely no obligation to do anything that I say or ask of him, and to also tell me immediately if something I say or do makes him uncomfortable. I never had and still never do have any ill intent in this friendship, but the last thing I want is to unintentionally take advantage of him.

Sometimes, I wish things could be different. Compounded with my bipolar disorder and ADHD, my autism makes my life harder. My brain is crosswired and I need to work harder to achieve the things that I want than do neurotypical people. Getting through college has been an ordeal and it’s honestly a miracle that I’m almost finished with it. If I could do away with just the ways my autism my life worse, I would in a heartbeat.

My autism also makes me who I am, though. It defines my personality and the way I interact with the world. I wouldn’t be such an effective verbal communicator, I wouldn’t have the same passions, and I wouldn’t have the same relationships. It’s part of what makes me,,, me. And ya know what? I like me.

I still hate some things about myself. I hate the ways that my disabilities and disorders make my life harder. I sometimes wish I could just whisk it all away so I don’t have to struggle like I do. But there are some good things that come along with it. If I got to choose whether to get rid of the autism and everything it entails… I don’t know. I just don’t know if I would. But I don’t have that choice. For better or for worse, reality has already made the decision for me.

[philosophika]

In honour of the final season of the HBO His Dark Materials series, let me present what I believe my daemon would have been if I’d been born in Lyra’s world: the Eurasian Lynx.

Rejoice, the adorable, fluffy meow-meow in the pictures above is me!

✨ Lynxes ✨ are:

Independent/Autonomous: Lynx kittens become fully self-sufficient at nine months, at which point they separate from their mother and siblings and go on to lead mostly solitary adult lives (the exception being mating season). They are considered symbols of autonomy, strength and self-reliance. *If this isn’t the story of my life lol 😅 Despite being very close to my family, my life diverged substantially from theirs from age 18 onwards, culminating in my now being in a completely different country. This separation, combined with my experiences as a Third-Culture-Kid, meant I learned to rely on my wits and independent judgment fairly early on. Incidentally, this has had the additional effect of making me somewhat unpredictable. Since I don’t really look to convention for guidance (who’s convention? Yours? Mine? Those held by the country I was born in? The one I grew up in? The one I’m in now? All of the above?), you can’t really be sure how I’ll react or what I’ll do unless you know me very well.

Determined/Perseverant/Goal-Orientated/Opportunistic: The Lynx is an ambush hunter who doggedly stalks its prey until the opportune moment to strike presents itself. *This not only describes the manner in which I’ve pursued my academic degrees but also the manner in which I approach life and decision-making in general. I’m always ~a l w a y s~ playing the long game (this has probably been accentuated by my immigrant status, which has made it necessary for me to know what’s going to happen six months in advance for visa purposes).

Discreet/Stealthy/Tactful: For Lynx to be successful ambush hunters, they must be stealthy enough to go unnoticed by their prey, often over long stretches of time. These cats are, therefore, famous for their discreet and tactful approach. They’re also known to hunt primarily at dawn and dusk, during the “quiet” hours. *I’m acutely context-conscious and am skilled at adapting what I reveal about myself to ensure I fly under the radar when needed (again, this is probably due to being a Third Culture Kid). I don’t fight battles I can’t win. I’m highly diplomatic. If you see me at a semi-formal dinner, you can be sure whatever I’m saying is the second or third corrected version of the first thought that came into my head. I edit in real-time.

Clear-Sighted/Perceptive/Insightful: Lynx are known for their clear night vision, impeccable sense of smell, and overall keen senses. *Although I was always intelligent, I don’t think I was born as perceptive as I am now. Two things have sharpened my insight down to a razor edge: my philosophy degrees and my abuse-induced hyper-vigilance (yay me). I am both keenly aware of micro-expressions, especially aggressive ones, and highly skilled (via years of academic training) at dissecting the various layers/hidden influences/unspoken implications of a given interaction/statement/situation. When I look at anything (and I’m actually paying attention), it's like looking through a time-warped kaleidoscope: I simultaneously observe the original image and all the resulting fractals. At this point, I do this reflexively, which can be annoying, because sometimes I don’t want my mind to analyze the movie I’m watching; I just want to lay back and enjoy it. That said, this skill has helped me accurately read and dodge perilous conversations with higher-ups, so it's not without its benefits.

Formidable/Intimidating: Like all  “big cats”, Lynx are ferocious predators and inspire caution in those who encounter them. *This is one of my most perplexing traits because I see myself as highly approachable. Nonetheless, my friends and family have described me in these terms, and it hasn’t escaped my notice that people seem slightly intimidated by me (maybe it’s because of the observant thing?) I compensate for this by making myself as bubbly and soft as possible when being introduced to someone new (who isn’t a threat to me, of course, lol. Otherwise, I lean right into the terrifying).

Affectionate/Playful: Lynx can be very playful and affectionate, just like house cats. *And who am I, if not the very spirit of affection and fun? In fact, the main reason I’m leaving academia is that it’s stopped being a source of curiosity and excitement. I don’t like having to perform dull scholarly aloofness all the time. I want ✨ dilated ✨ cat-pupils ✨ time. ✨ I am happiest when I can infect a lecture hall with a sense of jittery wonder. “If the revolt of Prometheus against the Olympic Gods doomed him to eternal torment, then so much worse for Olympus, down with the view of perfection which can be purchased only at the price of putting chains on the free independent will, the unbridled imagination, the wild wind of inspiration which goeth where it listeth.” (Isaiah Berlin, The Crooked Timber Of Humanity.)

Cute AF, But It’s Giving Ice Age: Lynx have large paws and longer hind legs, which gives them a slightly prehistoric and lop-sided appearance. *I don’t quite know how to say this, but I’ve always felt a bit... large? Not in size, in a sense that means I need to be gentle with other people lest I accidentally hurt them or scare them? In the sense that I have to be aware of my strength, my claws, so as not to wound them. In the sense that I have to be aware of the intensity, the wilderness, of my passions, my ecstasies, so as not to burn them. And curbing these intensities, tempering them, has made me feel a bit clumsy? A bit like I have longer hind legs and paws a bit too large for my body? A bit like a creature outside of time?

Anyway, if you want to play, I’m tagging anyone who wants to participate to share their daemon and characteristics! <3

[chirpsythismorning]

While i do agree with u i have some weird feelings about us analyzing real ppl lol idk idk

Is this about Noah being the Tom Holland of ST??

I think if this was about Noah’s identity or something substantial related to him personally, and not just a basic thing that happens in promoting content as an actor, that would be one thing. But this is literally just speculation about a cast-member in relation to what they are/aren’t revealing about the show publicly.

If fans were coming across private footage of Noah, with like friends without his consent, or if fans were like hacking his shit without his consent trying to come up with evidence based on that, yes that would feel invasive. But I don’t see how just talking about how his behavior in terms of publicly promoting the show, out in the open, in relation to other actors doing similar things to promote their projects, is weird?

But to be entirely fair, I know some fans completely separate their experience in the fandom from the actors, where some don’t even follow the cast or pay any sort of attention to their actions in relation to promotion, bc they just feel uncomfy about having any sort of association with them outside of the show? Which is valid to a major extent, especially just knowing how private a lot of actors are and would prefer that their everyday life not be intermixed with their work in a way they aren’t at all wanting fans to do.

I would say that when it comes to Noah specifically and what he posts in regards to the show, that’s just literal public knowledge he is offering up on his own, to the point where he is literally talking to fans directly by acknowledging them, and doing it repeatedly.

I personally would stick to instances of him clearly out in the public eye interacting with fans, knowing he’s doing so and comfortable with it, before I would feel the need to make a point about what it could/couldn’t mean, based on him being an actor with a job which usually requires some instances of keeping your mouth shut, or saying something with the guise that oops I’m not supposed to because it makes people feel like they’re in on a big joke, even though it’s actually quite the opposite.

I’m not gonna sit on here and go into all of Noah’s micro expressions he has or every detail of what he’s doing and what he means at any given point, especially if it literally has nothing to do with the show.

But if dude is on TikTok live spoiling stuff, only to end it with im gonna get in trouble, followed by just repeating over and over again, I’m just gonna respectfully assume that he is a professional and knows what he’s doing, and he wouldn’t put the show and it’s success in jeopardy. If anything I’m giving Noah the benefit of the doubt here to be doing something that is fairly common, bc the alternative would be that he’s careless and doesn’t think the rules apply to him which… I just don’t think is the case here.

If you’re someone who feels uncomfortable making any sort of post about the cast in relation to how they promote the show bc it feels weird to analyze a real persons actions, fair enough!

My main point in bringing it up was to remind ppl that Noah, just like all of the cast, are actors. I think people take EVERYTHING they say about the show as gospel, which is exactly what they want, so I fully respect wanting to just go with that so we don’t make their job harder for them? After all going along with the joke that he spoils things, just like fans did with Tom, is only actually funny to those who willfully believe everything he does is by accident when he goes online and talks about the show. It wouldn’t exactly be good for everyone to know he’s faking bc then it sort of defeats the purpose.

So yes we should try to keep this our little secret and not put him on blast over it.

In the future, we’ll just have to wait and see what he or the others are willing to reveal publicly about what they did/didn’t know while promoting the show over the years, if they’re even willing to share that knowledge. If and until then, all we can do is wait and see.

[wrenreid]

August

Follows Spencer Reid’s memories of a woman he fell for over the summer (you). He describes their relationship and looks back on one of his favorite moments with her. Based on August by Taylor Swift. I imagine early season 4 Reid. His pov.

contains: fluff, mentions of sex, mentions of being left (abandonment issues)…

August

There’s a pretty long list of things I’m good at: chess, reading micro expressions, statistics, physics, chemistry, poker, learning new languages… etc.

However, I am not good letting people go. If I analyze myself, there’s an easy explanation for this: my dad left me when I was 10. Then Gideon left abruptly when I was almost 26, leaving me a note behind.

Even though we are still human, we behavioral analysts like to believe we can somehow “cheat the system” because we know the psychology… but we can’t. Which is another thing I hate about myself. I cannot stand losing people, and it makes me feel weak.

I knew I had to let her go early on. I knew she was leaving for her big job promotion, heading to Italy soon for the well-paying foreign affairs job. She’s brilliant, of course they’d want her. I was happy for her too, but a selfish part of me wish they’d turn her application down, wish she’d accidentally slipped up and said something wrong. But like I said, she’s brilliant.

In quantum mechanics, there’s what we call the “many worlds” theory. It is believed that there are infinite universes, meaning, that there’s a possibility every decision we make branches out a different world where we made a different choice. If this is true, I’d like to believe the Spencer in the world where Y/n is still here is happy.

But the me in this universe only has that summer to hold onto. Luckily for me, I have an eidetic memory and can relive every moment in the exact detail it happened, or at least how it happened in my view.

When I get a little too cold or a little too alone at night, I shut my eyes tight and go back to my favorite memory of her.

The smell of flowers lingered like perfume in the warm August air. The summer breeze tickled our skin, causing the heat to be bearable. I watched as the wind blew her hair back a little, making her face exposed to me. Everything about her was perfect, even if she wasn’t considered society’s unrealistic representation of perfect, she was to me. Her nose, her lips, her hair, and most of all her eyes. Every time she looked into my hazel ones, my stomach fluttered.

Not only was she beautiful on the surface, but the way she spoke with such certainty, the way she carried herself, her mind, her heart, her soul, the way she didn’t mind when I went on seemingly non-stop tangents about things she didn’t quite care about, everything about her was magnificent.

We met April when she was assisting the BAU on a case, she knew some information on a group we’d never heard about. She was helpful and kind to every one of us. I remember when she tried to shake my hand, and I accidentally told her kissing was safer than hand shaking due to the pathogen transference. She just laughed, “Good to know.” I, however, was mortified I said that, especially to someone as wonderful as her.

The case went on for days, they usually do when we deal with powerful, intelligent unsubs. During that time, we got to know her.

Before I knew it, she started coming along to team nights out with us, upon the girls’ request. I’m usually drug to those by Morgan who says “C’mon, Reid. You’ve got to get out more, maybe meet some lovely ladies.”

I’d already met a lovely lady though, but I couldn’t tell her how I felt. I didn’t even know I felt. We’d known each other a month at this point, and I’m not one to develop “crushes” so soon.

I found myself thinking about her more, not in any creepy way, just how she smiled and always talked to me kindly, how she was funny without being too mean, how she was smart and creative, and of course, how she was gorgeous… it was hard to miss.

Morgan would flirt with her a little, and to my surprise, she barely gave him the time of day. She’d tease him a little, but eventually he gave up on the little flirty comments when it was clear he was not her type.

In June, she asked me to “hang out” with her alone for the first time. I was nervous, almost even said no due to fear I would set her off with my awkward rambles and inability to talk to pretty girls, but I told her “I’d like that very much.”

We went to a cafe in downtown DC, it was busy but not crowded; spelled like coffee and vanilla. Two of my favorite scents. We talked and ate lunch, getting to know each other more.

I found out she loved reading, traveling, terrible reality tv, card games, her little brothers, and roller coasters.

I asked her to tell me more about her family once we’d hung out more. I liked the way she smiled when she talked about them. I liked the way she smiled when she talked about anything she liked.

Upon finding out she liked card games, I showed her a few magic tricks I can do with cards. She was impressed which made me feel good.

By July, we were practically best friends. We hung out as often as we could, having to work around my busy schedule with the BAU. Luckily, she had a desk job, but not for long. She’d leave in September for her new job.

This brings us back to August. August when I found out I was in love with her. August when we kissed for the first time. August when I almost had the guts to tell her how I felt. August when we went on that picnic, the breeze blowing through her hair as she touched the flowers.

I remember thinking, How could someone be so wonderful?

“What are you thinking, Dr. Reid?” She chuckled as she caught be staring.

I, embarrassed, looked down to the practically empty picnic basket between us. “Nothing, nothing.”

“I’ve caught you in a lie,” she teased.

“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” I told her, my cheeks burning pink.

“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met, you know that?”

The compliment made me smile, my stomach doing that fluttering thing again.

“Come here,” she beckoned me to come toward her with her pointer finger.

I obliged, moving the basket and scooted closer. “Hi,” I said nervously.

“Hey there, handsome,” she flashed her pearly teeth at me. She pulled me in by my unbuttoned cardigan, connecting our lips softly.

I closed my eyes, taking in the sweet sensation. We’d only done this a few times before. I placed my hands on the sides of her face, kissing her with the same gentle force.

Before my brain could even get nervous and back out, she was laying with her back on the blanket, me beside her, hovering over as we kissed deeply.

The hand that wasn’t holding my body up was stroking her hair. My lips trailed down to her neck after she gave me permission to do so.

I hadn’t had sex a lot. I’m not one to sleep with someone who I don’t know well. Not that I judge people who do. It’s just not me. I enjoyed it, just didn’t need it.

With her, on that blanket on top of the flowers, it was different than anything I’ve had before. It was slow and loving. The sound of our heavy breathing and soft moans morphing together was beautiful. Everything about it was beautiful.

We laid there afterwards, her holding my hand and playing with my fingers, my head on her shoulder. We didn’t really talk, just listened to each other breathe, listened to the wind brushing through the flowers and grass.

Eventually, it was time to go. I knew this could very well be the last time I saw her. She left soon and there’d probably be a serial killer needing to be caught.

“Y/n, I-“ I start before she interrupted me.

“I know, Spencer. Just don’t say it. It’ll hurt us both.”

I nodded, looking down.

“I do too,” she gave me a soft smile, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before we parted ways.

August slipped away into a moment in time.

It was the last time I saw her… and that crushed me. But at least she knew how I felt, and I knew how she felt. I hope she’s happy where she’s at now, living the life that was meant for her. I hope she thinks about that day like I do, remembers it and smiles that beautiful smile that will forever be burned in my head.

August slipped away into a moment in time, ‘cause you were never mine. Never mine.

tags: @reidscake @reidslovely @sexualityisajoke @nomajdetective @kenreadsfanfics @assemblemotherfuckers @calicocatty @hotchandspencearedilfs @kodiakwhiskey @awhoreforspencerreid @taecube @futuremrsreid @thatsonezesty13 @reidsbookmark @katlizada @samuel-de-champagne-problems <3

[suga2910]

Cock-loving bad boy Min Yoongi

Summary: Yoongi is a bad boy. A bad boy who worshippes cock. Notes:as i said before smut helps me improving my english blablabla alsoo i love cumslut yoongi m sorry lord for i have sinned.i think ive wrote this like 1 month ago ?? hmm

Work Text: Yoongi knew he was a walking cliche.The typical school bad boy who smoked and got into fights. The one who is feared by everyone, the one who isn't afraid to talk back, be it a classmate, a teacher or the principal. Yoongi didn't give a fuck, and perhaps that's the reason his reputation was untouchable. People who passed by always had to look at their feet, trying to not pick a fight with him. The need to be constantly in defensive mode has become part of Yoongi's lifestyle. That's how he was raised, how he perceived the world, how he felt to be as accepted as safe.And like any cliche, Yoongi had his weaknesses. It wasn't just Hoseok. It was Hoseok's smile, Hoseok's unique form of speech, Hoseok's expressive eyes, Hoseok's dainty fingers... And Hoseok's cock.Hoseok, unlike Yoongi, wasn't a walking cliche. He had his flaws and strengths, and he knew it. People used to think of him as some kind of "battery" and, to be honest, Hoseok was proud of it. He liked the positive effect he had on his surroundings.But what he liked the most, was when Yoongi begged. When Yoongi whined, when Yoongi cried out in pleasure, when Yoongi did everything he could just to get Hoseok's cum dripping from his mouth.With the pass of time, Hoseok has learned to read people as of they were books. Yoongi was an example. To read Yoongi was so easy, specially when his body was so responsive, his micro-expressions were so easy for Hoseok's eyes to catch, everything in him was obvious all the time.Hoseok knew what Yoongi wanted. Hoseok knew how to give it to him. It took some fights, to almost get a bloody nose, for Yoongi to finally open himself. In a lot different ways, all of them just for Hoseok to enjoy.And now they were here. Yoongi sitting on a toilet, his lips getting practically devoured by Hoseok. Hoseok's possessive grip of Yoongi's shoulders, preventing him for even try to take a breath without Hoseok's permission, had Yoongi's cock hard inside his pants.Hoseok was mad. Pretty much because of Yoongi's fault.Hoseok's tongue practically ravishing Yoongi's mouth had him whimpering, with the thought of rub both cocks together crossing his mind again and again, non-stopping. But Hoseok was too mad, and Yoongi knew any wrong move will create a hell on earth.Hoseok pushes again with a hard bite on Yoongi's lower lip, making him whine out of pain. He adopts a straight posture to look down on Yoongi with a wicked smirk. The male is heavily panting, sweat has his hair sticking to his forehead and tears stains his cheeks."Look at you. You're a fucking whore. How many times I should repeat it?" Hoseok hisses, leaning against the stall door. "I should fuck you so hard until you scream. Maybe you will finally acknowledge your place, right?"Yoongi closes his legs shut, slightly squirming, as Hoseok's eyes analyzes him from head to toe in silence.What got Hoseok so mad to the point of having his blood boiling like water in a kettle was Yoongi's grumpy humor. Yeah, Hoseok was aware ofhis broyfriend's short-temper, but today Yoongi woke up even fussier than ever. To the point to get Hoseok fussy too, and it was almost impossible.The straw that broke the camels back was Yoongi screaming back to him in the middle of the school halls over a minimal thing that Hoseok can't even remember."Everyone thinks of you as some new age Tony Montana. Everyone thinks you're scary, the one to not mess with, and I guess you just confirmed it out there" Hoseok says sarcastically, licking his lips. "Cause that's what you were looking for, right? To reaffirm your alpha-plus male reputation. To get everyone to know how tough you are. You want everyone to think of you as the type who carries a pocketknife, the type who is capable to kill someone with his bare hands. You think you're that type, don't you?"Hoseok walks up to Yoongi, getting his phone out of his pocket right before kneeling down. Yoongi's heart skip a beat when from Hoseok's phone a little 'click' sound is heard, meaning the camera was on. Yoongi confirmed it when Hoseok placed the phone right before his

face."I have news for you, Yoongi. You're not that type. You will never be that type" Hoseok's smile gets wider when Yoongi breathed in as Hoseok places one of his hands between his thighs. "You're the type to get tonguefucked, you're the type to bounce on a cock till your legs get numb, you're the type to deep-throat everyone who's nice to you. Am I right? Are you that type?" Hoseok asks with a fake-sweet voice, petting Yoongi's cheek softly and capturing his pout with the camera. "I asked you something. Answer, whore".Yoongi's eyes were piercing through Hoseok's crotch, the image of the youngest's cock deep inside his mouth made him whine quietly. He didn't even flinch when Hoseok grabbed him by the jaw to lift his head. Yoongi's looking directly at the camera with big eyes and a big pout, and Hoseok has found the angle that catches his bulge too."You're already hard" Hoseok teases, caressing Yoongi's lower lip with his thumb. "Suck on it, slut, you know you want". And Hoseok was right, cause Yoongi immediately wraps his warm mouth around the finger. Hoseok notices how Yoongi has started to rub his thighs together as his hips slowly move back and forth, and chuckles. "Look at you, dirty whore. Just a finger in your mouth and you're going insane", Hoseok pulls off to take his hand and smack it across Yoongi's face, making him moan at the sting of the slap burning on his cheek."Please... Your cock...""Control yourself". Hoseok manages to unzips his pants with one hand, recording the way Yoongi's face lit up when the cock pops out."Big... So big..." Bliss shines on Yoongi's expression, his nails digging deeper into his lap. He looks up, straight to the camera again, to ask: "Can I touch?"Hoseok smirks. "No. I don't want your nasty hands on my cock" he responds. Yoongi whines, but he gets cut off by Hoseok's hands sliding into his hair and pulling him forward. "Lick".Yoongi smiles, leaving a peck in the tip and then pulling out his tongue to draw circles on it. He isn't even surprised when Hoseok grabs him and makes him choke on the cock, so Yoongi just starts bobbing his head following Hoseok's hips pace. Yoongi was grateful, he really was, cause he loved to take Hoseok on the mouth and to him, this was a reward he didn't deserve at all."Filthy... You're so f-filthy..." Hoseok says, accelerating the speed of his thrusts. He moans loudly, not caring if someone could hear them, when Yoongi whimpers making vibrations get send to his cock. "Taking cock... The only thing you can do well...", his hands shakes but Hoseok does the most to keep recording Yoongi.The camera was just above Yoongi's head, filming as Hoseok's cock went in and out of his mouth. Yoongi's red cheeks and wet eyes could be seen too, he was doing his best to not let Hoseok's cock separate not even an inch. Yoongi's wet heat had Hoseok's legs trembling."And if I show all of my friends this videom then what?" Hoseok suddenly asks, so Yoongi rolls his eyes to look upon him. "What if I show the school this video? All of them would know you're a filthy cumslut... The school's bad boy loves cock more than anything else in the world... How does that sound?", Hoseok facefucks Yoongi, making him choke not only on his dick but also on his own whines. "But maybe they would want to get some too, and you know I don't like sharing... It's better to keep this secret, don't you think?"Hoseok pushes away and Yoongi loudly cries, trying to get the cock inside his mouth again, but he's stopped by Hoseok's hand on his forehead pushing him backwards."Open your mouth" he says as he strokes his dick, aiming directly to Yoongi's lips. Yoongi does as told while rubbing his palm against his own erection. Having Hoseok jerking off right in front of his eyes was about to make Yoongi come.Hoseok finally spills all of his cum on Yoongi's face, thin white lines reaching lips, cheeks, nose and even landing on his bangs. Yoongi feels so happy as his own hands moves faster, while he wipes the liquid off with his finger and takes it to his mouth, tasting Hoseok with a big smile.Hoseok

hasn't stop recording him, enjoying how Yoongi cleans himself with his tongue and masturbates over his clothes. Yoongi looks straight at Hoseok's eyes with an aroused frown and half-open mouth, letting out the sweetest moans ever heard as he squirts inside his pants."You're such a slut, Yoongi, you really came in your pants" Hoseok gets his phone close to Yoongi's crotch so he can capture the dark spot. "Your cute little dick couldn't take no more, right?" he says, touching the wet area with his fingers, making Yoongi all whiny again. Hoseok cuts the video off to put his phone back to his pocket and pull his pants up. He leans over Yoongi to give him a peck on the lips, smiling the moment Yoongi tries to get his tongue in. "You never get tired, don't you?""Please... Just..." Yoongi looks like he's struggling to find the right words, so he shuts his lips and stares up to Hoseok.Hoseok's response is to roll his eyes with disdain. "Well, every time something doesn't go your way you throw a tantrum so saying 'no' to you is useless". Hoseok remains in silence a couple of seconds, before unzipping his pants one more time. "Brat".Yoongi claps in joy, standing up from the toilet he was sitting on to bent over the sink, pulling his legs apart and letting his ass stick up higherAs Hoseok laughs he presses his chest against Yoongi's back so the eldest could feel the cock being rubbed against his covered ass. He bites Yoongi's lobe making him let out a little whine, his hips starting to thrust against Hoseok on their own.With a little kiss left on Yoongi's cheek, Hoseok pushes back to start stroking his cock to wake it up and fuck the boy standing in front of him into oblivion."Cum inside, please" Yoongi whispers when he notices how Hoseok has pulled his phone out again to record and left it standing by the wall so the eldest's reactions throughout the fuck would be easily captured."What a greedy little slut" Hoseoks says, his dick half-hard, as he pulls Yoongi's pants down. "Look at your pretty ass, is it clenching yet?", he delivers a light slap on the cheek, fascinated to watch how the skin bounces softly. "I'd like this view better if I wasn't aware that this ass is owned by a fucking cum-eater bitch". Another spank, even sharper than before, makes Yoongi choke on a scream and press his forehead against the mirror. "You like that?""Y-Yes...""Just like I thought"."More, please...""Don't order me around or else there's no cock for you""Sorry..."Trying to fix his mistake, Yoongi uses his hands to open himself welcoming Hoseok. He moves his head to press his cheek against the mirror and be able to watch Hoseok's cock bury in him.At this moment, Hoseok is spitting on his palm to use it as lube. Yeah, his cock was already really wet because of the blowjob Yoongi gave him minutes ago, but Hoseok wanted to be careful anyways. He doesn't intend to hurt the eldest, or well, at least not in that way.Hoseok smirks when he catches Yoongi staring. "You're so needy, babyboy", the nickname makes Yoongi whimper desperately, hardening his grip and nails burying into the milky skin of his ass. Hoseok tugs Yoongi's shirt by the edge to lip level. "Bite" he demands and Yoongi obeys.Hoseok's hands holds him by the waist as the tip starts to rub against the hole, the cock threatening to make its way into Yoongi's entrance but finally just pushing back. This has Yoongi feeling frustrated, suppressing the want to move his ass back cause he knew it would make Hoseok mad.But no, actually, cause Yoongi really can't hold it longer when he glances down and finds his erection almost touching his belly because of how hard he was.Yoongi muffles a crying and Hoseok recognizes his name in his words."How did you just call me?"Yoongi gulps. "I-I'm sorry, sir... It wasn't m-my... My intention" he manages to sound understandable and Hoseok's smirk means that he achieved it."Good slut", without saying no more, Hoseok enters with just one thrust, which makes Yoongi scream and accidentally hit the side of his face against the mirror. It wasn't that bad, though, but it

still makes Hoseok put his hands between Yoongi's cheek and the surface to prevent it from happening again. "Don't be an idiot"."Thank you, sir".Hoseok bites his lower lip to not laugh because of Yoongi's muffled words, until he hears him speak again."Move, please".When Yoongi pronounces those words, Hoseok starts to thrust again, accelerating the pace and making Yoongi bang his hips against the counter in the process. Yoongi doesn't mind neither the pain nor the bruises that will decorate his thighs later, because all he can think about is the thick, throbbing cock that goes in and out of his hole. Yoongi's hips start to move on their own again, his whole body twitching and his fingers losing the strength to keep groping his globes."You're really warm inside" Hoseok says, the hand on Yoongi's waist hardening the grip. "I-Is this enough for my slut? Or does he need to get spanked..." Hoseok breathes heavily when he loses the plot of his words because of how tight Yoongi felt around his cock "... Spanked again?"Yoongi nods while hiding his face on the extended arm Hoseok was using to protect him from doing another stupid thing again. He leaves his ass alone and almost immediately Hoseok starts to deliver sharp slaps on his skin, one after the other.Yoongi's muffled moans, the sound of skin against skin and Hoseok's palm landing on Yoongi's ass again and again were louder than thought, but even if they knew they had to watch out, neither cared. Hoseok felt fascinated with Yoongi's lewd sounds being muted by his shirt and his eyes after the cock's movement. Meanwhile Yoongi couldn't even think right as Hoseok slid so harshly. He wasn't able to feel his own legs or move a muscle, just because his body spun around how good Hoseok was fucking him.Hoseok stops mid thrust when Yoongi screams and lets his shirt's edge fall, meaning his prostate was finally reached. He starts rubbing against the sweet spot that has Yoongi whitening his eyes and letting his tongue hang out from his mouth, as drool drops land on the sink and precum glistens his pink tip."S-So good" Yoongi whimpers when Hoseok presses his chest against the eldest's back, reaching even deeper. "Sir is so... So goo-... Good with... With me...""Am I?" Hoseok asks with a smirk, using his hand to lightly move Yoongi's hips backwards and forwards. "Do you like this? Do you wanna cum?""I want... Cum inside... F-first...""Such a cumslut" Hoseok leaves a path of kisses that goes from Yoongi's side of the neck to his mid-shoulder. "You look so cute impaled on my cock... And look at your tiny dick... It's about to explode" Hoseok wraps his fist around Yoongi's manhood, rubbing his thumb tip against the slit of the head. Yoongi weakly bucks into Hoseok's hand as a response. "So tiny and useless""Move, please..." Yoongi pleads."Do it yourself". Even though Yoongi's eyes got darkened with pleasure, his face lit up no sooner he hears that.A cute giggle passes through his lips. Yoongi reunites all of his strength left to start moving roughy his hips as if his life depends on it, fucking himself onto the cock inside and mewling loudly every time a thrust hit his spot. Hoseok smiles looking directly at the camera, he really can't wait to jerk off to both videos of Yoongi worshipping him."You really do look cute on a cock, huh?" Hoseok says, stroking Yoongi in his fist and moving his hand up and down the length.Yoongi tries to say something along the lines of how big Hoseok's cock is but he just can't, not when he's fucking himself so good on the thick dick that makes him go crazy every damn time. His hips crash against the counter when he goes forwards, and crash against Hoseok's body when backwards. He can't care less if there's a possibility to get completely bruised out of this stall, just cause Hoseok's cock feels so fucking good that he can't wait to get filled up by the semen he adores the most.Tears streamed down his face and his whole body was burning, but Yoongi can't stop. He just wants Hoseok's warm thin white lines spilling on his insides. He feels how Hoseok starts to

grip harder on his hips but can't be sure if he's helping to accelerate the moves, just because Yoongi's so invested on the fuck that he can't take a moment to think. His mind is a blank page.Hoseok's hand strokes harder, nails dig deeper, and Yoongi doesn't even realize when his cum spills hard against his belly, staining his shirt and his navel. Yoongi doesn't stop his moves and neither does Hoseok, and even if he's really overstimulated Yoongi can't help but scream louder and clench himself tight."Fuck, baby, you're doing so good" Hoseok groans, licking the skin of Yoongi's nape. Yoongi's hole clenches and unclenches, and when Hoseok looks down he finally notices how deep he has reached: in the lowest part of Yoongi's belly a bulge appears and disappears with every thrust. That's what makes Hoseok squirt harder than he ever did before, shaking so much that he needs to grab the counter to not collapse. Yoongi cries out when the hot cum filles him completely; sweat, drool and tears glisten his face, cum on his chest, reddened face and crossed eyes as Hoseok's seed is deep inside.Hoseok knows how to fuck him silly, how to make him forget his own name, how to have him begging on his knees. Hoseok knows how to make a dumb slut out of Yoongi, a cum-covered mess, a cock-hungry whore. And Hoseok enjoys it. When Yoongi, completely loosened up, cries for more.He can't move and won't, feeling really weak but also completely satisfied as Yoongi's body still leans against his. Yoongi's breathing harshly with closed eyes and open mouth and for Hoseok it's the cutest thing ever, the way his chest inflates and deflates slow and gentle. Yoongi in post-orgasmic bliss has always been a view Hoseok adored.He loved that feeling, cum on his ass while Hoseok's body warmness kindly holds him. He feels Hoseok's lips leaving pecks on his cheek but he can't react nor respond, so he just stays still and receives."I'll pull out. Is that okay for baby?" Hoseok asks and Yoongi absently nods.Hoseok lets his baby rest against the sink as he pulls his cock off, which makes Yoongi whine when feeling the sudden emptiness. The cum drips down the pale thighs and Hoseok quickly takes his phone, kneels down and focuses the camera. He uses both the thumb and the index to let the hole be seen, showing how it clenches over nothing as more cum gets released from the inside.Hoseok can't hold it longer, so he slips two fingers in to stretch the entrance and let the semen dribble out. Looks like a waterfall. Yoongi moans brokenly and even moves a bit, trying to gain more contact, but quickly gives up as his body is too weak now. Hoseok stands up and his cream filled fingers leave the pink hole alone to get taken to Yoongi's mouth, which he receives without a second thought. He just kitten-licks the cum off, eyes still closed and lips swollen.When the fingers are finally clean, Hoseok lovely slaps Yoongi's cheek and pulls his pants up."I'm gonna clean you" Hoseok says, leaning over to get some toilet paper and holding firmly Yoongi's body."I want to sleep" the eldest murmurs, laying against the mirror."I know, kitten" Hoseok sits on the toilet and makes Yoongi get on his lap. Yoongi hides his face on Hoseok's crook of the neck as he's getting cleaned up, little pecks being left all over his face. "Baby did so well today. I love my little prince".Yoongi lets out a cute muffle as response.

_____________***THE END***_____________

[blackbat05]

Night talks and Dim Sum

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first time trying to write a one-shot/fic on tumblr. I have an existing wattpad account where I have some stories published! It’s mainly DC (young justice) combined with hunger games so if you are a fan, do check out @Runnerpottermore! Anyways, I have no idea why I suddenly decided to write a fic after so long - maybe because I wasn’t going through the best of days and also watched the movie recently? I just love the whole cast in general and Mr Simu Liu just killed his role - so yeah! Before I ramble on, I hope you enjoy my fic that I came up with!

Genre: Fluff, PG13, platonic friendship that can maybe turn into something more?

Warning: None? Just maybe broken Mandarin and sweaty people?

Extra Note: Please be kind to me!🥺

‘Bye.’

I take a deep breath, moving the cursor to close the window. Another day was done. Leaning back against the office chair, I stare up into the celling before closing my eyes, taking in the conversation a few hours ago.

‘It’s difficult to change what has already been so ingrained into our childhood. But what you can do is ask - what is the part of yourself that you want to keep?’

Rubbing my temples from the simple yet complex question, I decided that it was time to hit the road and get some fresh air. It was 6pm, Shangqi and Katy were probably still at the hotel.

As dreadful as running sounded to many people, this was one of the days where I could just zone out and mull over the day. The feeling of my shoes pounding into the pavement, body slowly being covered by a sheet of sweat… it felt good. Turning into the last corner of the run, a light tap on my shoulder jolted me out of my little world.

‘Woah is just me!’ My sudden stop had almost resulted me barreling right into Shangqi’s equally sweaty frame. He gives me his signature boyish grin only to earn a smack on his shoulder.

‘干嘛!’ (gànmá) [‘What are you doing!’]

‘吓死我了!’ (xià sǐ wǒ le!) [‘You scared me!’] I retorted back, removing my headphones. ‘What are you doing here, I thought you still had work?’

‘We did, but our shift ended early so I thought I’ll get in a quick run.’

‘10km is quick?’ I look at his phone that was calculating the distance, brows raised. ‘You’re a beast.’

‘Ha ha, very funny. Enough about me, what’s got you out today? I thought you were taking a break?’ We walked side by side, towards the direction of a renowned dim sum stall. ‘Yeah…’ I dragged my words for a while, hesitating to continue. ‘Just needed to think some things through.’ Shangqi nods. That’s the thing I liked about him. He never forced me to tell him things that I didn’t want to. He would wait quietly until I was ready.

‘I don’t know if I’m even going in the right direction. I thought I was doing things right - getting the grades, making sure I understood what was being taught at school… I was so sure that I could help people if I put my mind to it. But these feelings of not being able to do more… I don’t even know my future as a social worker anymore.’ I bit my lips, kicking a stray pebble.

‘Hold up!’ Shangqi steps in front of me, gripping the sides of my shoulders. ‘What did you say?’ He asks me in mock disbelief. ‘I said I’m not a good-‘

‘Nope! The conversation before this has been void! Because the (Y/N) I know is an amazing person and social worker who helps these kids to become the better version of themselves.’ He waves towards the many young Asian-American kids running around merrily in the playground as if to make his statement. A small smile formed on my lips watching Shangqi’s exaggerated movements to the disapproval of an elderly man with wispy white hair. He seemed to have noticed the looks he was getting as he dropped his hands to the sides in embarrassment.

‘Look, my point is that not many people can do what you do. Putting people before yourself, how many people would do that in this world?’

I throw him a skeptical glance. ‘You’re doing it. You’re a literal superhero that stopped a mythical creature from destroying our world. Not that it hasn’t happened.’ Shangqi snorts, ‘Sure. But hear me out. Who were the people that worked day and night to restore some order when the snap happened? Who made sure that these young kids weren’t afraid and reassured them that everything was going to be alright.’

He did have a point. Five years ago, the whole world was thrown into chaos. If I could forget something, it would be the chaos at the children and youth center on the exact day of the snap. Kids as young as four, crying uncontrollably for their missing parents. The older children who put on brave faces for their younger siblings but they too couldn’t make sense of the situation. The remaining social workers scrambling to attend to every need, every child. I was one of them. The sleepless nights, the constant worries - the social services were already overloaded, anymore pressure and the whole industry would collapse. I wanted to believe him but the doubts were becoming stronger by the minute.

Shangqi carefully stares at me as if analyzing my micro expression. ‘I know what I’m saying won’t change anything instantly. But what I do know is that we all have these moments of doubt, even me. I can’t offer you professional advice, but just like how Katy, my aunt and my mom were there for me when I needed them the most in Ta Lo, I’ll be here if you want to talk.’

‘You’re a good friend you know that right.’ My heart felt much lighter compared to the day.

‘Better than Katy?’

‘Don’t push it.’ I joked, eliciting laughter from both of us. Before we knew it, we arrived at the dim sum stall. As always, it was bustling with hungry customers. ‘Come on! Katy’s got a seat for us already, I’m starving!’ He opened the door for an young couple pushing a stroller.

‘Wait!’ Shangqi looks at me curiously. ‘I know we’re both sweaty but I think the situation calls for one.’ I gave a huge hug, ‘Thank you, that meant a lot to me.’

The sudden bear hug definitely threw the man off, but he to was glad for the heart to heart conversation. For more reasons than one.

‘Alright then! Who’s up for some char siew bao! I’m gonna inhale them - deserved it!’ I loudly declared my war against the dim sum, walking towards Katy who was enthusiastically waving at us.

Little did I know, there was a lot going on in Shangqi’s mind too.

A/N: Wew! That was long! If you’ve read it up till here, thank you for reading it! This idea really just popped out at the last minute so I’m not sure if it’s to y’all taste. Please do forgive me for my inaccurate translation - I am Chinese but like Katy my Mandarin is super rusty. Also whichever countries you come from, please give your social workers more recognition. They deserve it for a long time coming! Do give a comment or like if you wish! Just here to write and try and give simple joy to people who are such fans of Shangqi and the MCU in general.

[gimme-mor]

ACOTAR THINK PIECE: ELAIN AND THE CONCEPT OF CHOICE

*DISCLAIMER*

Please take the time to read this post in its entirety and truly reflect on the message I am trying to send before commenting. My goal is to use my background in Gender and Women’s Studies to deconstruct the behaviors and comments I have seen on Tumblr and Twitter, and, more importantly, bring awareness to the ACOTAR fandom. I WILL NOT tolerate anyone who tries to twist my words and say I am attacking people and their personal shipping preferences. In fact, I AM CRITIQUING THE ARGUMENTS THEMSELVES NOT THE PEOPLE USING THE ARGUMENTS.

As someone who has been a long time lurker on all sides of the ACOTAR fandom, the growing toxicity and hostility has become more apparent to the point that civil discourse is, for the most part, entirely lost. More times than not, the cause of the communication breakdown centers around Elain and the relationships she has with those around her. Before and after the release of ACOSF, I’ve noticed that when the fandom expresses its opinions about Elain and her development as a character, whether in a romantic light or generally, the conversation wholly hinges on the concept of choice. Common examples I’ve seen include:

Elain has been stripped of her choice for a majority of her life

Elain should be able to make her own choices

The King of Hybern took away Elain’s choice to be human when he had her tossed into the Cauldron

Elain did not choose the mating bond for herself, instead it was forced upon her

Elain feels pressured to choose Lucien

Elain should have the choice to stray away from what is expected of her

Elain and Azriel being together represents a different and stronger type of love because she’s choosing to be with him

If you ship Elucien, you’re not Pro-Elain because you’re taking away Elain’s right to choose who she wants to be with and forcing her to accept the mating bond

Elain chose to accept Azriel’s advances in the bonus chapter 

When Rhysand called Azriel away after catching him and Elain together, Elain was stripped of her choice to be sexually intimate with Azriel

When Azriel and Rhysand are talking in the bonus chapter, Elain’s choices aren’t at the center of their conversation

If you suggest that Elain should leave the Night Court, you’re stripping Elain of her choice to remain with her family

If you suggest that Elain should be friends with someone else, you’re ignoring Elain’s choice to be friends with Nuala and Cerridwen

Why is the concept of choice exclusively tied to Elain and everything surrounding her character while simultaneously ignoring that other characters in the ACOTAR series have, to varying degrees, been stripped of their choices at some point in their lives? And why isn’t the concept of choice connected to these characters in the same way that it is connected to Elain? For example:

Did the High Lords strip Feyre of her choice to consent when they turned her into a High Fae?

Did Tamlin and Ianthe strip Feyre of her choice to consent when they started to control every aspect of her life in the Spring Court?

Was Vassa stripped of her choice when the other Mortal Queens sold her to Koschei, which resulted in her being cursed to turn into a firebird?

Was Feyre stripped of her choice to know the risks involved in the pregnancy?

Did the King of Hybern strip Nesta of her choice to be human when he had her tossed into the Cauldron?

Was everyone stripped of their choices under Amarantha’s rule?

Was Feyre stripped of her choice to just be a daughter and a sister when the Archeron family failed to contribute to their survival, which resulted in Feyre being the family’s sole provider?

Did Lucien’s family strip him and Jesminda of their choice to be together when they killed her because of her status as a Lesser Faerie?

Are Illyrian females stripped of their choice to consent when their wings are clipped?

Did the Hybern general strip Gwyn of her choice to consent?

Did Ianthe strip Lucien of his choice to consent? 

Did Keir strip Mor of her choice to consent to her engagement to Eris?

Universally, femininity is synonymous with weakness and women often face discrimination because the patriarchy is part of an interactive system that perpetuates women’s oppression. Since the ACOTAR universe is set up to mirror a patriarchal society, it’s clear that the imbalance of power between males and females stems from sexism. The thing that sets Elain apart from other female characters in the ACOTAR series is the fact that SJM has portrayed Elain as a traditionally feminine character based on her actions and the ways in which Elain carries herself. Compared to them, Elain is inherently held to a different standard because her femalehood takes precedence over other aspects of her character in fandom discussions. These conversations indirectly place Elain on a pedestal and hail her as the epitome of traditional femininity; and when her character is criticized in any way, it’s seen as a direct attack against women, specifically women who are traditionally feminine. Also, these conversations fall back on Elain’s femaleness when analyzing her character since it can be assumed from a reader’s perspective that Elain, despite being the middle sibling, is coddled by those around her because her ultra-feminine nature is perceived as a sort of weakness in need of protection. However, the fact that the concept of choice is used as an argument to primarily focus on Elain’s femalehood highlights the narrow lens through which Elain, as a character, is viewed. It implies that Elain’s femaleness is all her character has to offer to the series overall and insinuates that Elain’s character development is dependent on her femaleness. To suggest, through the choice argument, that ACOTAR’s patriarchal society constrains Elain’s agency and prevents her from enacting her feminist right to choose while failing to examine the patriarchal structure of the ACOTAR universe and its impact on the female characters in the series, the choice argument ultimately falls apart because it shows that it’s only used to focus on Elain’s femalehood. Furthermore, the implication that Elain’s right to choose is, in itself, a feminist act in the series indicates that the concept of choice as an argument is used to promote choice feminism.

Feminism is a social movement that seeks to promote equality and equity to all genders, and feminists work toward eradicating gender disparities on a macro-level, in addition to challenging gender biases on a micro-level. Historically, feminism prioritized the voices of white women, specifically white women who were cisgender, able-bodied, affluent, educated, and heterosexual. But over the decades, the inclusion of women of color and other marginalized women’s voices has broadened the scope of feminism and caused it to take an intersectional approach when discussing social identities and the ways in which these identities result in overlapping systems of oppression and discrimination. On the other hand, choice feminism, a form of feminism, greatly differs from what feminism is aiming to accomplish. In the article “It’s Time to Move Past Choice Feminism”, Bhat states:

“Choice feminism can be understood as the idea that any action or decision that a woman takes inherently becomes a feminist act. Essentially, the decision becomes a feminist one because a woman chose it for herself. What could this look like? It could really be anything. Wearing makeup is a feminist act. Not wearing it is also a feminist act. Shaving or not shaving. Watching one TV show over another. Choosing a certain job over another. Listening to one artist over another. Picking a STEM career. Choosing to dress modestly or not. The list goes on. At first glance, there does not seem to be an apparent negative consequence of choice feminism. A woman’s power is within her choices, and those choices can line up with a feminist ideology. For example, a woman’s decision not to shave may be her response to Western beauty standards that are forced onto women. Not shaving may make her feel beautiful, comfortable, and powerful, and there is nothing wrong with that. Women making choices that make them feel good is not the issue. The issue lies in calling these decisions feminist ones. Choice feminism accompanies an amalgamation of problems‒the first being that this iteration of feminism operates on faulty assumptions about said choices. Liberal feminism neglects the different realities that exist for different women‒especially the difference between white women and women of color, transgender women and cis women, etc. Not all women have the same circumstance and access to choices, not all choices made by women are treated equally, and not all choices are inherently feminist” (https://www.34st.com/article/2021/01/feminism-choice-liberal-patriarchy-misogyny-bimbo-capitalism). 

Just as white feminism ignores intersectionality and refuses to acknowledge the discriminations experienced by women of color, choice feminism and arguments supporting choice feminism have, by default, made the concept of choice exclusionary. The individualization of choice feminism glorifies the act of a woman making an individual choice and, by extension, gives the illusion that women’s liberation from gendered oppression can be achieved by enacting their rights to make personal, professional, and political choices. Herein lies the problem with choice feminism: it (the argument of “But it’s my choice!”) stifles feminist conversations from exploring the depths and intricacies of the decision making process because it’s used as a way to shut communication down entirely, shield arguments from criticism, and condemn those who criticize choice feminism for its disconnection from a larger feminist framework. Contrary to what choice feminism advocates for, it lulls the feminist movement into complacency because women’s individual choices do nothing to alleviate gendered oppression. Choice feminism’s leniency towards choice fails to address the limitations of choice in regards to women’s intersectional identities and enables society to shift the blame of women’s oppression away from the societal and institutional structures in place to women themselves for making the wrong choices that ultimately resulted in their circumstances. Choice is not always accessible to every woman. For instance, choices made by white women are, in some way, inaccessible to women of color, in the same way that choices made by cisgender women are inaccessible to transgender women. Choice is one of the founding concepts of the feminist movement and it “became a key part of feminist language and action as an integral aspect and rallying call within the fight for reproductive rights‒the right to choose whether or not we wanted to get pregnant and to choose what we wanted for our bodies and lives” (https://www.feministcurrent.com/2011/03/11/the-trouble-with-choosing-your-choice/). When choice, in a feminist context, is framed as something that is solely about the individual as opposed to the collective, the feminist foundation on which it stands “leads to an inflated sense of accomplishment while distracting from the collective action needed to produce real change that would have a lasting effect for the majority of women” (https://www.jacobinmag.com/2017/03/i-am-not-feminist-jessa-crispin-review/). 

By linking the choice argument with choice feminist rhetoric and extreme acts of progressiveness, it plays into today’s negative understanding of a social justice warrior and normalizes fake wokeness. In its original conception, a social justice warrior was another way to refer to an activist and had a positive connotation; nowadays, the term carries a negative connotation and is:

“. . . a pejorative term for an individual who repeatedly and vehemently engages in arguments on social justice on the Internet, often in a shallow or not well-thought-out way, for the purpose of raising their own personal reputation. A social justice warrior, or SJW, does not necessarily strongly believe all that they say, or even care about the groups they are fighting on behalf of. They typically repeat points from whoever is the most popular blogger or commenter of the moment, hoping that they will ‘get SJ points’ and become popular in return. They are very sure to adopt stances that are ‘correct’ in their social circle” (https://fee.org/articles/how-the-term-social-justice-warrior-became-an-insult/). 

Today’s perception of the term social justice warrior is directly tied to fake wokeness because both are performative in nature, fueled by the drive to be seen as progressive, and derail necessary conversations from taking place by prioritizing toxicity. According to the article titled, “Three signs of fake ‘wokeness’ and why they hurt activism”, it states:

“. . . social media did not create activism: it did, however, create a legion of hashtags and accounts dedicated to issues . . . Sadly, fake woke people will use these hashtags or create these accounts, see that as contributing to a cause, and just call it a day; these same people tend to shame those without the same level of interest or devotion to a given cause . . . Ironically, as open-minded as the fake woke claim to be, they struggle to deal with opposition. More often than not, those who fit the fake woke bill will ignore, misconstrue, or shutdown anything remotely opposing their stances . . . Now yes, human nature often leads us to possess a bias against that which contradicts our views, but human nature should not serve as an excuse for irrational behavior. Opposition to our stances on issues helps activists more than it harms: it allows them to look at the causes they champion from a perspective they possibly ignored before, further enlightening them. More importantly, by discovering information that may refute what they believe, they can find and eliminate any flaws in their reasoning and strengthen their arguments. Activism involves opening up to change, something one stuck in an echo chamber can never achieve” (https://nchschant.com/16684/opinions/three-signs-of-fake-wokeness-and-why-they-hurt-activism/). 

Rather than critiquing ideas, thoughts, and theories about Elain and her character development with textual evidence, the concept of choice as an argument is used to silence opposing viewpoints. This is similar to choice feminism because the conversations start and end with the concept of choice, leaving no room for a critical analysis of Elain’s character. Although the concept of choice as an argument is intended to shed light on how ACOTAR’s patriarchal structure limits females’ agency to some degree, the fact that it’s only applied to Elain invalidates the point of the argument because it doesn’t include the experiences of other female characters when examining the impact of sexism in the ACOTAR universe. The failure to do so calls the intent of the choice argument into question. As it stands, the concept of choice as an argument frames Elucien shippers and those who are critical of Elain as woman haters, misogynists, and anti-feminists, especially if they identify as women. The belief that a woman is anti-feminist or a woman hater any time she dislikes another woman suggests that women have to be held to a different emotional standard than men. If men are able to dislike other individual men without their characters being compromised, why can’t women? Feminism and what it means to be a feminist do not require women to like every woman they encounter. One of the many things feminism hopes to accomplish is granting women the same emotional privileges afforded to men. 

Terms like “oppression”, “the right to choose”, “feminist”, “feminism”, “anti-feminist”, “anti-feminism”, “internalized misogyny”, “misogyny”, “misogynist”, “sexist”, “sexism”, “racist”, “racism”, “classist”, “classism”, “discrimination”, and “patriarchy” are all used in specific ways to draw attention to the plight of marginalized people and challenge those who deny the existence of systems of oppression. Yet these words and their meanings can be twisted to attack, exclude, and invalidate people with differing opinions on any given topic. When social justice and feminist terms are thrown around antagonistically and carelessly to push a personal agenda, it becomes clear that these terms are being used to engage in disingenuous discourse and pursue personal validation rather than being used out of any deep-seated conviction to dismantle systemic oppression. The personal weaponization of social justice and feminist concepts is a gateway for people who oppose these movements to strip these terms of their credibility in order to delegitimize the societal and institutional impacts on marginalized people.

It’s important to question how an argument is framed and why it’s framed the way that it is to critically examine the intent behind that argument: is it used as a tool to push a personal agenda that reinforces dismissive, condescending, and problematic behaviors, or is it used as an opportunity to share, learn, enlighten, and educate? The concept of choice as an argument is extremely problematic because: it limits fruitful discussions about Elain within the fandom; enables arguments that oppose opinions about Elain and her narrative development to masquerade as progressive by pushing social justice and feminist language to their extremes; normalizes the vilification and condemnation of individuals who are either critical of a ship, Elain as a character, or prefer her with Lucien; encourages an in-group and out-group mentality with differing opinions about Elain’s development resulting in politically charged insults; exploits social justice and feminist terms; ignores that harm done on a micro-level is just as damaging as harm done on a macro-level; and cheapens Elain’s character and her development.

There is more to Elain than her being a female who is traditionally feminine. Elain has the potential to be as complex of a character as Feyre, Nesta, Rhysand, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Mor, and to reduce her character to her femalehood in fandom discussions is a disservice to Elain as a character, the ACOTAR fandom, and SJM’s writing. So I ask this: is there a reason why the fandom heavily emphasizes the concept of choice when discussing Elain that goes beyond a simplistic analysis of her as a character (i.e. using the concept of choice as an argument to reinforce Elain’s femaleness), or is the concept of choice used as a shield to prop up one ship over another?

gimme-mor library

[bamf-jaskier]

for the shipping ask meme: geraskier

(i’m really curious, as someone who has a somewhat complex relationship with this ship and might answer differently depending on the day)

Shipping Ask Meme

the last part of this ask was a personal attack lol (ur so right tho I literally change my geraskier opinions day to day me and that ship have the on again off again relationship of the most chaotic celebrities ask me in a week and it will be different u can use it to call me out haha)

Ship It

What made you ship it?

I just thought it was super compelling and let's be honest it fits all the fandom tropes so nicely. I mean Geraskier really is the ship of the fandom, like no other ships even compare as far as popularity goes. And I also think that there is something so nice about this sheltered bard character getting to see the world for the first time running headlong into this gritty Witcher. And then over time they just become such essential parts of each other's lives. And also fandom has written such amazing meta and content for this ship, I can't help but ship it and enjoy it. Like the fanart alone...

What are your favorite things about the ship?

I love how at the end of the day, both Geralt and Jaskier believe in the good of people. They both believe that at their core, if you give people a chance they can do good. And that's so beautiful. I also love how they contrast to each other in the sense of Jaskier's impulsivity and Geralt's hesitation. Not to say that Jaskier can't be hesitant or Geralt impulsive but when they are together they take on those roles more. I also appreciate how the two of them are in each other's lives but their lives don't evolve around each other. Like Jaskier teaches at Oxenfurt, Geralt goes to Kaer Morhen. And while the show is giving Jaskier more of a connection to Ciri, she is still Geralt's daughter, not Jaskier's. And I think that Jaskier put so much energy into creating this extroverted front, this role for the audience that he has difficulty knowing when to be really himself. And I think Geralt gives him that space. Like in S2 when Jaskier was telling Geralt his worries about Ciri and Yennefer, Geralt was actually listening. And in return, Geralt has someone who doesn't have these preconceived notions of him that he can get honest ideas out of.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Probably how I seen their relationship in the show. Like I said I am definitely way more chill about it now but there was a period of time when I just felt like season 1 unbalanced their relationship so much I had a hard time shipping it. Rewatching the show, I often felt like Jaskier gave so much energy which Geralt seemed to hate him at every turn. Because of the time jumps we never saw their relationship grow so it seemed like Geralt had known this guy for 20 years and still didn't want him around? And even though Geralt would sometimes give off micro-expressions of enjoyment we would analyze to high heaven, the majority of his words and actions degraded and disliked Jaskier. Their relationship felt transactional like Geralt was only putting up with him because he wanted a bard. And there were times when Jaskier seemed condescending and controlling. After season 2, I feel this a lot less now. Mostly because when they were together this past season, it felt more balanced. And Jaskier seemed to acknowledge this with Geralt too. Like I've had some intense fights with friends and a lot of times when there's so much other shit going on you just realize that you don't need a drawn out apology so much as an acknowledgement that you are moving forward together. This season made me feel more like their relationship is a choice, not fate alone and I liked that.

[yoongyeah2910]

Cock-loving Bad Boy Min Yoongi ~ Sope.

Summary: Yoongi is a bad boy. A bad boy who worshippes cock. Notes:as i said before smut helps me improving my english blablabla alsoo i love cumslut yoongi m sorry lord for i have sinned.i think ive wrote this like 1 month ago ?? hmm

Work Text: Yoongi knew he was a walking cliche.The typical school bad boy who smoked and got into fights. The one who is feared by everyone, the one who isn't afraid to talk back, be it a classmate, a teacher or the principal. Yoongi didn't give a fuck, and perhaps that's the reason his reputation was untouchable. People who passed by always had to look at their feet, trying to not pick a fight with him. The need to be constantly in defensive mode has become part of Yoongi's lifestyle. That's how he was raised, how he perceived the world, how he felt to be as accepted as safe.And like any cliche, Yoongi had his weaknesses. It wasn't just Hoseok. It was Hoseok's smile, Hoseok's unique form of speech, Hoseok's expressive eyes, Hoseok's dainty fingers... And Hoseok's cock.Hoseok, unlike Yoongi, wasn't a walking cliche. He had his flaws and strengths, and he knew it. People used to think of him as some kind of "battery" and, to be honest, Hoseok was proud of it. He liked the positive effect he had on his surroundings.But what he liked the most, was when Yoongi begged. When Yoongi whined, when Yoongi cried out in pleasure, when Yoongi did everything he could just to get Hoseok's cum dripping from his mouth.With the pass of time, Hoseok has learned to read people as of they were books. Yoongi was an example. To read Yoongi was so easy, specially when his body was so responsive, his micro-expressions were so easy for Hoseok's eyes to catch, everything in him was obvious all the time.Hoseok knew what Yoongi wanted. Hoseok knew how to give it to him. It took some fights, to almost get a bloody nose, for Yoongi to finally open himself. In a lot different ways, all of them just for Hoseok to enjoy.And now they were here. Yoongi sitting on a toilet, his lips getting practically devoured by Hoseok. Hoseok's possessive grip of Yoongi's shoulders, preventing him for even try to take a breath without Hoseok's permission, had Yoongi's cock hard inside his pants.Hoseok was mad. Pretty much because of Yoongi's fault.Hoseok's tongue practically ravishing Yoongi's mouth had him whimpering, with the thought of rub both cocks together crossing his mind again and again, non-stopping. But Hoseok was too mad, and Yoongi knew any wrong move will create a hell on earth.Hoseok pushes again with a hard bite on Yoongi's lower lip, making him whine out of pain. He adopts a straight posture to look down on Yoongi with a wicked smirk. The male is heavily panting, sweat has his hair sticking to his forehead and tears stains his cheeks."Look at you. You're a fucking whore. How many times I should repeat it?" Hoseok hisses, leaning against the stall door. "I should fuck you so hard until you scream. Maybe you will finally acknowledge your place, right?"Yoongi closes his legs shut, slightly squirming, as Hoseok's eyes analyzes him from head to toe in silence.What got Hoseok so mad to the point of having his blood boiling like water in a kettle was Yoongi's grumpy humor. Yeah, Hoseok was aware ofhis broyfriend's short-temper, but today Yoongi woke up even fussier than ever. To the point to get Hoseok fussy too, and it was almost impossible.The straw that broke the camels back was Yoongi screaming back to him in the middle of the school halls over a minimal thing that Hoseok can't even remember."Everyone thinks of you as some new age Tony Montana. Everyone thinks you're scary, the one to not mess with, and I guess you just confirmed it out there" Hoseok says sarcastically, licking his lips. "Cause that's what you were looking for, right? To reaffirm your alpha-plus male reputation. To get everyone to know how tough you are. You want everyone to think of you as the type who carries a pocketknife, the type who is capable to kill someone with his bare hands. You think you're that type, don't you?"Hoseok walks up to Yoongi, getting his phone out of his pocket right before kneeling down. Yoongi's heart skip a beat when from Hoseok's phone a little 'click' sound is heard, meaning the camera was on. Yoongi confirmed it when Hoseok placed the phone right before his

face."I have news for you, Yoongi. You're not that type. You will never be that type" Hoseok's smile gets wider when Yoongi breathed in as Hoseok places one of his hands between his thighs. "You're the type to get tonguefucked, you're the type to bounce on a cock till your legs get numb, you're the type to deep-throat everyone who's nice to you. Am I right? Are you that type?" Hoseok asks with a fake-sweet voice, petting Yoongi's cheek softly and capturing his pout with the camera. "I asked you something. Answer, whore".Yoongi's eyes were piercing through Hoseok's crotch, the image of the youngest's cock deep inside his mouth made him whine quietly. He didn't even flinch when Hoseok grabbed him by the jaw to lift his head. Yoongi's looking directly at the camera with big eyes and a big pout, and Hoseok has found the angle that catches his bulge too."You're already hard" Hoseok teases, caressing Yoongi's lower lip with his thumb. "Suck on it, slut, you know you want". And Hoseok was right, cause Yoongi immediately wraps his warm mouth around the finger. Hoseok notices how Yoongi has started to rub his thighs together as his hips slowly move back and forth, and chuckles. "Look at you, dirty whore. Just a finger in your mouth and you're going insane", Hoseok pulls off to take his hand and smack it across Yoongi's face, making him moan at the sting of the slap burning on his cheek."Please... Your cock...""Control yourself". Hoseok manages to unzips his pants with one hand, recording the way Yoongi's face lit up when the cock pops out."Big... So big..." Bliss shines on Yoongi's expression, his nails digging deeper into his lap. He looks up, straight to the camera again, to ask: "Can I touch?"Hoseok smirks. "No. I don't want your nasty hands on my cock" he responds. Yoongi whines, but he gets cut off by Hoseok's hands sliding into his hair and pulling him forward. "Lick".Yoongi smiles, leaving a peck in the tip and then pulling out his tongue to draw circles on it. He isn't even surprised when Hoseok grabs him and makes him choke on the cock, so Yoongi just starts bobbing his head following Hoseok's hips pace. Yoongi was grateful, he really was, cause he loved to take Hoseok on the mouth and to him, this was a reward he didn't deserve at all."Filthy... You're so f-filthy..." Hoseok says, accelerating the speed of his thrusts. He moans loudly, not caring if someone could hear them, when Yoongi whimpers making vibrations get send to his cock. "Taking cock... The only thing you can do well...", his hands shakes but Hoseok does the most to keep recording Yoongi.The camera was just above Yoongi's head, filming as Hoseok's cock went in and out of his mouth. Yoongi's red cheeks and wet eyes could be seen too, he was doing his best to not let Hoseok's cock separate not even an inch. Yoongi's wet heat had Hoseok's legs trembling."And if I show all of my friends this videom then what?" Hoseok suddenly asks, so Yoongi rolls his eyes to look upon him. "What if I show the school this video? All of them would know you're a filthy cumslut... The school's bad boy loves cock more than anything else in the world... How does that sound?", Hoseok facefucks Yoongi, making him choke not only on his dick but also on his own whines. "But maybe they would want to get some too, and you know I don't like sharing... It's better to keep this secret, don't you think?"Hoseok pushes away and Yoongi loudly cries, trying to get the cock inside his mouth again, but he's stopped by Hoseok's hand on his forehead pushing him backwards."Open your mouth" he says as he strokes his dick, aiming directly to Yoongi's lips. Yoongi does as told while rubbing his palm against his own erection. Having Hoseok jerking off right in front of his eyes was about to make Yoongi come.Hoseok finally spills all of his cum on Yoongi's face, thin white lines reaching lips, cheeks, nose and even landing on his bangs. Yoongi feels so happy as his own hands moves faster, while he wipes the liquid off with his finger and takes it to his mouth, tasting Hoseok with a big smile.Hoseok

hasn't stop recording him, enjoying how Yoongi cleans himself with his tongue and masturbates over his clothes. Yoongi looks straight at Hoseok's eyes with an aroused frown and half-open mouth, letting out the sweetest moans ever heard as he squirts inside his pants."You're such a slut, Yoongi, you really came in your pants" Hoseok gets his phone close to Yoongi's crotch so he can capture the dark spot. "Your cute little dick couldn't take no more, right?" he says, touching the wet area with his fingers, making Yoongi all whiny again. Hoseok cuts the video off to put his phone back to his pocket and pull his pants up. He leans over Yoongi to give him a peck on the lips, smiling the moment Yoongi tries to get his tongue in. "You never get tired, don't you?""Please... Just..." Yoongi looks like he's struggling to find the right words, so he shuts his lips and stares up to Hoseok.Hoseok's response is to roll his eyes with disdain. "Well, every time something doesn't go your way you throw a tantrum so saying 'no' to you is useless". Hoseok remains in silence a couple of seconds, before unzipping his pants one more time. "Brat".Yoongi claps in joy, standing up from the toilet he was sitting on to bent over the sink, pulling his legs apart and letting his ass stick up higherAs Hoseok laughs he presses his chest against Yoongi's back so the eldest could feel the cock being rubbed against his covered ass. He bites Yoongi's lobe making him let out a little whine, his hips starting to thrust against Hoseok on their own.With a little kiss left on Yoongi's cheek, Hoseok pushes back to start stroking his cock to wake it up and fuck the boy standing in front of him into oblivion."Cum inside, please" Yoongi whispers when he notices how Hoseok has pulled his phone out again to record and left it standing by the wall so the eldest's reactions throughout the fuck would be easily captured."What a greedy little slut" Hoseoks says, his dick half-hard, as he pulls Yoongi's pants down. "Look at your pretty ass, is it clenching yet?", he delivers a light slap on the cheek, fascinated to watch how the skin bounces softly. "I'd like this view better if I wasn't aware that this ass is owned by a fucking cum-eater bitch". Another spank, even sharper than before, makes Yoongi choke on a scream and press his forehead against the mirror. "You like that?""Y-Yes...""Just like I thought"."More, please...""Don't order me around or else there's no cock for you""Sorry..."Trying to fix his mistake, Yoongi uses his hands to open himself welcoming Hoseok. He moves his head to press his cheek against the mirror and be able to watch Hoseok's cock bury in him.At this moment, Hoseok is spitting on his palm to use it as lube. Yeah, his cock was already really wet because of the blowjob Yoongi gave him minutes ago, but Hoseok wanted to be careful anyways. He doesn't intend to hurt the eldest, or well, at least not in that way.Hoseok smirks when he catches Yoongi staring. "You're so needy, babyboy", the nickname makes Yoongi whimper desperately, hardening his grip and nails burying into the milky skin of his ass. Hoseok tugs Yoongi's shirt by the edge to lip level. "Bite" he demands and Yoongi obeys.Hoseok's hands holds him by the waist as the tip starts to rub against the hole, the cock threatening to make its way into Yoongi's entrance but finally just pushing back. This has Yoongi feeling frustrated, suppressing the want to move his ass back cause he knew it would make Hoseok mad.But no, actually, cause Yoongi really can't hold it longer when he glances down and finds his erection almost touching his belly because of how hard he was.Yoongi muffles a crying and Hoseok recognizes his name in his words."How did you just call me?"Yoongi gulps. "I-I'm sorry, sir... It wasn't m-my... My intention" he manages to sound understandable and Hoseok's smirk means that he achieved it."Good slut", without saying no more, Hoseok enters with just one thrust, which makes Yoongi scream and accidentally hit the side of his face against the mirror. It wasn't that bad, though, but it

still makes Hoseok put his hands between Yoongi's cheek and the surface to prevent it from happening again. "Don't be an idiot"."Thank you, sir".Hoseok bites his lower lip to not laugh because of Yoongi's muffled words, until he hears him speak again."Move, please".When Yoongi pronounces those words, Hoseok starts to thrust again, accelerating the pace and making Yoongi bang his hips against the counter in the process. Yoongi doesn't mind neither the pain nor the bruises that will decorate his thighs later, because all he can think about is the thick, throbbing cock that goes in and out of his hole. Yoongi's hips start to move on their own again, his whole body twitching and his fingers losing the strength to keep groping his globes."You're really warm inside" Hoseok says, the hand on Yoongi's waist hardening the grip. "I-Is this enough for my slut? Or does he need to get spanked..." Hoseok breathes heavily when he loses the plot of his words because of how tight Yoongi felt around his cock "... Spanked again?"Yoongi nods while hiding his face on the extended arm Hoseok was using to protect him from doing another stupid thing again. He leaves his ass alone and almost immediately Hoseok starts to deliver sharp slaps on his skin, one after the other.Yoongi's muffled moans, the sound of skin against skin and Hoseok's palm landing on Yoongi's ass again and again were louder than thought, but even if they knew they had to watch out, neither cared. Hoseok felt fascinated with Yoongi's lewd sounds being muted by his shirt and his eyes after the cock's movement. Meanwhile Yoongi couldn't even think right as Hoseok slid so harshly. He wasn't able to feel his own legs or move a muscle, just because his body spun around how good Hoseok was fucking him.Hoseok stops mid thrust when Yoongi screams and lets his shirt's edge fall, meaning his prostate was finally reached. He starts rubbing against the sweet spot that has Yoongi whitening his eyes and letting his tongue hang out from his mouth, as drool drops land on the sink and precum glistens his pink tip."S-So good" Yoongi whimpers when Hoseok presses his chest against the eldest's back, reaching even deeper. "Sir is so... So goo-... Good with... With me...""Am I?" Hoseok asks with a smirk, using his hand to lightly move Yoongi's hips backwards and forwards. "Do you like this? Do you wanna cum?""I want... Cum inside... F-first...""Such a cumslut" Hoseok leaves a path of kisses that goes from Yoongi's side of the neck to his mid-shoulder. "You look so cute impaled on my cock... And look at your tiny dick... It's about to explode" Hoseok wraps his fist around Yoongi's manhood, rubbing his thumb tip against the slit of the head. Yoongi weakly bucks into Hoseok's hand as a response. "So tiny and useless""Move, please..." Yoongi pleads."Do it yourself". Even though Yoongi's eyes got darkened with pleasure, his face lit up no sooner he hears that.A cute giggle passes through his lips. Yoongi reunites all of his strength left to start moving roughy his hips as if his life depends on it, fucking himself onto the cock inside and mewling loudly every time a thrust hit his spot. Hoseok smiles looking directly at the camera, he really can't wait to jerk off to both videos of Yoongi worshipping him."You really do look cute on a cock, huh?" Hoseok says, stroking Yoongi in his fist and moving his hand up and down the length.Yoongi tries to say something along the lines of how big Hoseok's cock is but he just can't, not when he's fucking himself so good on the thick dick that makes him go crazy every damn time. His hips crash against the counter when he goes forwards, and crash against Hoseok's body when backwards. He can't care less if there's a possibility to get completely bruised out of this stall, just cause Hoseok's cock feels so fucking good that he can't wait to get filled up by the semen he adores the most.Tears streamed down his face and his whole body was burning, but Yoongi can't stop. He just wants Hoseok's warm thin white lines spilling on his insides. He feels how Hoseok starts to

grip harder on his hips but can't be sure if he's helping to accelerate the moves, just because Yoongi's so invested on the fuck that he can't take a moment to think. His mind is a blank page.Hoseok's hand strokes harder, nails dig deeper, and Yoongi doesn't even realize when his cum spills hard against his belly, staining his shirt and his navel. Yoongi doesn't stop his moves and neither does Hoseok, and even if he's really overstimulated Yoongi can't help but scream louder and clench himself tight."Fuck, baby, you're doing so good" Hoseok groans, licking the skin of Yoongi's nape. Yoongi's hole clenches and unclenches, and when Hoseok looks down he finally notices how deep he has reached: in the lowest part of Yoongi's belly a bulge appears and disappears with every thrust. That's what makes Hoseok squirt harder than he ever did before, shaking so much that he needs to grab the counter to not collapse. Yoongi cries out when the hot cum filles him completely; sweat, drool and tears glisten his face, cum on his chest, reddened face and crossed eyes as Hoseok's seed is deep inside.Hoseok knows how to fuck him silly, how to make him forget his own name, how to have him begging on his knees. Hoseok knows how to make a dumb slut out of Yoongi, a cum-covered mess, a cock-hungry whore. And Hoseok enjoys it. When Yoongi, completely loosened up, cries for more.He can't move and won't, feeling really weak but also completely satisfied as Yoongi's body still leans against his. Yoongi's breathing harshly with closed eyes and open mouth and for Hoseok it's the cutest thing ever, the way his chest inflates and deflates slow and gentle. Yoongi in post-orgasmic bliss has always been a view Hoseok adored.He loved that feeling, cum on his ass while Hoseok's body warmness kindly holds him. He feels Hoseok's lips leaving pecks on his cheek but he can't react nor respond, so he just stays still and receives."I'll pull out. Is that okay for baby?" Hoseok asks and Yoongi absently nods.Hoseok lets his baby rest against the sink as he pulls his cock off, which makes Yoongi whine when feeling the sudden emptiness. The cum drips down the pale thighs and Hoseok quickly takes his phone, kneels down and focuses the camera. He uses both the thumb and the index to let the hole be seen, showing how it clenches over nothing as more cum gets released from the inside.Hoseok can't hold it longer, so he slips two fingers in to stretch the entrance and let the semen dribble out. Looks like a waterfall. Yoongi moans brokenly and even moves a bit, trying to gain more contact, but quickly gives up as his body is too weak now. Hoseok stands up and his cream filled fingers leave the pink hole alone to get taken to Yoongi's mouth, which he receives without a second thought. He just kitten-licks the cum off, eyes still closed and lips swollen.When the fingers are finally clean, Hoseok lovely slaps Yoongi's cheek and pulls his pants up."I'm gonna clean you" Hoseok says, leaning over to get some toilet paper and holding firmly Yoongi's body."I want to sleep" the eldest murmurs, laying against the mirror."I know, kitten" Hoseok sits on the toilet and makes Yoongi get on his lap. Yoongi hides his face on Hoseok's crook of the neck as he's getting cleaned up, little pecks being left all over his face. "Baby did so well today. I love my little prince".Yoongi lets out a cute muffle as response.

_____________***THE END***_____________

[fxcking-anon]

Fallingforyou

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: Alcohol

Word Count: 3,749

A/N: I’m not sure what it is about this song but I’ve had it on repeat for the past few months. There’s something about it. Part of it definitely stems from the fact that no one has kissed me as the 1975 plays in the background. I wasn’t sure when I wanted this to happen but I just watched the episode where JJ and Will get married and it finally clicked. This is the perfect moment for that with Spence. Soft and romantic, that feeling you get after leaving a wedding and knowing that love is real because you’ve just been surrounded by so much of it.

lol so through the course of writing this, it just got longer and longer oops. 

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You tilted your head back laughing as Derek and Spencer spun you back and forth between the two of them as “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” played in the background. Penelope was singing drunkenly along, holding on to Rossi as she forced him to sway back and forth with her. 

“Hey babygirl,” Derek called out to Penelope, twirling you back into Spencer’s arms, “You wanna do the lift?” He started to back up, gesturing at her to run at him.

“Oh no, I’m not that drunk. These heels are not meant for running. Or sticking a landing. No way,” she said, opting instead to take Rossi’s hand and let him spin her into a slightly offbeat, step together move. 

You leaned your head on Spencer’s chest as you rocked slowly to the beat. All around you, your closest friends smiled and laughed and danced together. Despite the hell of the day before, everyone managed to pull through for JJ and Will. The happy couple were whispering to each other in the middle of the dance floor, caught up in their own little world. JJ’s fingers curled tightly around Will’s. It didn’t seem like either of them would be letting go for a long time. The events of yesterday seemed to remind them of that. 

“What’s going on up there?” Spencer asked you, lightly tapping your temple to get your attention. 

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, jostled slightly from your musings by the tap to your head.

“You okay?” He reiterated, searching your face for micro-expressions. 

You smiled up at him. “I’m really happy Spencer,” you told him, “It’s hard not to be. I’m with my family, aren’t I?” You giggled, unable to contain the unbridled happiness that was coursing through you. 

You looked around you. Over to one side, Beth was dancing with Jack as Hotch looked on fondly. Next to them, Henry had wriggled his way between Will and JJ. Will picked him up and the family started swaying and spinning together, laughing at Henry’s fist pumps to the slow music. On the other side, Penelope and Derek were (lousily) attempting a grapevine as Rossi and Emily seemed to pull out all the stops as they waltzed gracefully. Show offs. 

“You know, you guys are my best friends,” you said, looking back up at Spencer. “Truly, best in the whole world.”

As much as he tried to hide it, you clocked the millisecond of discomfort in his expression before he smiled at you again. You pushed it to the back of your mind. You weren’t going to let yourself go full profiler and ruin tonight for yourself. Tonight you were going to enjoy this moment with the people you held closest to your heart. Tomorrow you could analyze why Spencer didn’t like you referring to him so fondly. 

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You couldn’t guess the time if you tried as everyone started stumbling out of Rossi’s mansion. You could however, tell that you, along with most of the team, had a little bit too much to drink. 

“I’m calling cabs for all of you, you can come collect your keys tomorrow,” Rossi said, jangling Derek, Penelope, Emily and your keys in his hand.

“I’ll take them,” Spencer fake sighed, rolling his eyes before revealing a grin. “Okay, everyone in,” he said, unlocking his Volvo and waiting for everyone to situate themselves. You found yourself squished in between Emily and Derek as Penelope eagerly hopped in the passenger seat. “You aren’t buckled Y/N,” Spencer scolded, staring you down in the rear view window, waiting for you to secure yourself in the seat. 

You looked behind you, trying to find the seat belt. Coming up empty, you shot Spencer a quizzical look in the mirror. He unfastened his own belt to turn around towards you, reaching back to pull out the belt before securing it gently across you. 

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol, but Spencer’s hand seemed to linger at the point where the seat belt touched your hip. And for whatever reason, probably the alcohol, you wanted more contact. Sadly, Spencer turned back around abruptly to wrestle the volume dial away Penelope. 

“But this is my jam!” Penelope whined as Spencer lowered the volume back to where you could hear your own thoughts again. 

“I can’t drive if I can’t hear. Distracted driving is incredibly dangerous-” 

“Just drive Pretty Boy, I’ve got a hot lady waiting for me at home,” Derek interrupted Spencer’s tangent and coincidentally caught the attention of the three women in the car. 

“Who? What woman? Who?” Penelope instantly asks, poking Derek in the leg as best she could from her position in the passenger seat. You and Emily both stared at him quizzically. You brought out your ‘tell me more’ elbow as Emily wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Her name is My Bed and her friend, My Pillow, is also anxiously awaiting my return so please, step on it,” Derek said, leaving the girls in various states of shock and giggles. 

Spencer shifted the car into drive and slowly pulled out, stepping on it as much as one can while staying within the 25 mile per hour residential limit of the law. 

----------

You waved goodbye to Penelope as she stepped into the doorway of her apartment complex before settling yourself in the front seat. As you buckled and reclined your seat a few degrees, you felt Spencer’s eyes on you. “Are you alright?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, “I just get a little bit sick in the back of cars. It’s a little worse from the drinks.” You noticed Spencer immediately tense. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to be sick. I’m a big girl, I can hold my liquor.”

You watched as his shoulders relaxed as he turned back towards the road. For as uptight as Spencer seemed about following the rules of the road, he looked surprisingly relaxed as he drove through the city streets. You attributed part of it to the lack of traffic at this early hour of the morning. Even so, seeing Spencer doing something as simple as driving one handed as the other rested on the gear shift sent a slight shiver down your spine. It was wildly attractive. 

As he slowed down for a stop light, he looked over at you again. “What’s going on up there?” he asked, repeating his words from earlier that night. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if his gaze was really as intense as it felt, boring holes into you. 

“It’s just...” you start, trailing off for a moment, trying to find the right words. “We don’t get a lot of happy time. As tired as I am and as much as these shoes are killing me, I’d do anything to be able to live in tonight forever. With all of you. You guys are my closest friends in the world and I watch as we all struggle to find the light after day in and day out of tragedy. When we get moments like this, it’s hard when they’re over.” You hadn’t meant to get so deep so quickly. You hadn’t meant to bare your soul like that in front of Spencer. Not that you didn’t trust him implicitly, you just knew that intense emotional expression could sometimes overwhelm him. Leave him unsure of how to proceed. 

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed simply, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “It’s nice to forget for a while.”

The drive continued in comfortable silence. Your eyes closed, the streetlamps agitating your oncoming migraine as soft classical music played through the sound system.

“What song is this? I’m assuming Beethoven, right?” you asked.

“You would be correct,” you could hear Spencer’s smile in his response and almost opened your eyes to see it. “It’s Piano Concerto Number 5 in E flat major.” The music swelled as he spoke before a decrescendo to a soft, simplistic melody again. It took everything in your power to subdue your Drunk Brain. Between the music, his one hand grip of the steering wheel, the neon lights of downtown and the alcohol in your system you wanted to just lean over and-

No. This was Spencer. Spencer deserved better than subpar drunk roadhead. 

You opened your eyes wide at that realization, sitting up straight before being choked out by the seat belt's emergency locking mechanism. Spencer’s attention snapped to you as you coughed violently, attempting to unlock the mechanism so you could lean forward onto your knees.

“Woah, woah, Y/N what happened?” The concern was clear in Spencer’s voice. “We’re at your apartment, are you okay to go up?”

“I’m-” you choked out another cough, finally feeling clear enough to take a normal breath in. “I’m okay. I just…” you trailed off, trying to think of anything to say besides ‘I got freaked out by how much I wanted to suck you off because I know we aren’t like that’.

Spencer placed the car in park and turned off the engine before stepping out of the vehicle. He rounded the front of the car before opening your door and squatting besides you. “Let me get that,” he said, releasing you from your seat belt. Your chest was still heaving which certainly didn’t help how flustered you could feel yourself getting from how close Spencer was to you. The concern in his eyes only made you more attracted in that moment and it took everything you had to remind yourself that you are part of a team of profilers. There was no getting out of this hole you dug yourself into tonight. 

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper as you took his hand and stepped out of the car. You hadn’t realized how much Spencer had allowed skin to skin contact tonight. You knew that it was hard for him to avoid hyperfixation on how many germs were passed every time someone initiated skin to skin contact. Yet he danced with you, touched your face, and was now taking your hand. You wanted to read deeper, to profile this simple change, but your addled brain would not cooperate with you at the moment. 

As you stood up, the world spun. Sitting, you felt buzzed. Standing, however, it took you a moment to realize that Spencer had wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you back to an upright position. Staring hard, his face came into clearer focus. 

“You’re drunk,” he stated simply. You couldn’t help but giggle. He wasn’t wrong. You caught him smiling back at you before turning his face away and replacing it with a more impassive stare. 

----------

Lucky for the two of you, your apartment complex had recently fixed the elevator that had been broken for the past six months. Otherwise, maneuvering you back to your apartment would have been far more difficult. As you approached your door, you felt a tug on your handbag. Spencer gently removed it from your grip and fished out your keys, unlocking the apartment door before guiding you inside. 

Spencer had never been inside your space before. There was no reason for him to. Hotch had stopped by once before to drop off case files when you were sick but other than that, no one from the team had been here. And Hotch didn’t even come inside. 

You studied his face, doing your best to pick up his micro-expressions as he looked around your small living space. There wasn’t much. A worn, cushy couch, two oversized arm chairs, a stack of books on an end table and a large collection of half dead plants. Spencer guided you to one of the arm chairs before taking a closer look at one of your ivy plants. 

“You do know that overwatering kills just as much as underwatering, right?” Spencer said, clearly messing with you. 

You turned to look at him as he took one of the ivy leaves between his fingers.

“Eugene is just temperamental,” you countered, frowning at the plant.

“You named them?”

“Of course,” you huffed, pulling yourself up to grab a glass of water, “I can’t just refer to it as Hedera Helix all the time. I have another, they need a distinction. So I name them.” You made your way slowly to the kitchen, hearing Spencer follow you just closely enough that he could stabilize you if you teetered again. You pulled your favorite mug out of the cupboard before filling it with water. 

“It’s late,” Spencer said, nodding his head to the time displayed on your stove. 3:37. 

You immediately felt a wave of regret crash into you. You hadn’t intended on being so needy tonight. It was late. And here Spencer was, watching over your drunk, bumbling self instead of going home and getting some sleep. 

“I probably wouldn’t be asleep anyways, really, don’t worry about it,” Spencer said, taking quick note of your change in demeanor. 

“You can go,” you said, turning your attention back to your mug. “Really, thank you for everything tonight but it is late.”

“Y/N…” Spencer started, crouching a bit to get back in your line of vision, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. If you want me to leave, I will. But don’t think that I’m here against my will. Okay?”

You nodded softly. You wanted him to stay. You wanted him to be here in the morning when you woke up. You wanted so very much more from him in that moment. “Would you…” you faltered, second guessing your decision.

“Would I what, Y/N?” Spencer asked softly.

“Would you stay? I have a guest room and the sheets are clean and I understand if it’s weird because you’ve never been here before and now I’m trying to drag you into an unwanted weird sleepover and I’m drunk and you’re not and it’s late and you should really-”

You froze as Spencer let out a little laugh. 

“I don’t mind staying. Sometimes it’s nice not to have to go home to an empty apartment after nights like this,” he said. Your eyes widened for a moment and you could tell he realized the unintentional subtext of his comment. “No! Not like that! I just meant that- I mean- Tonight was nice! And happy! And sometimes, being alone…” he trailed off.

You knew what he meant. Sometimes, being alone just brings all the terror back. And sometimes, after a night with the people who mean the most to you, who remind you that there’s good in this world, you just aren’t ready for that to end. 

“I have some men’s sweats if you want to change,” you offered. Spencer raised his eyebrows at you. “I bought them. I like sleeping in oversized sweats, I don’t have enough time to be collecting them from random guys. Get your head out of the gutter Dr. Reid,” you scolded him, laughing.

You made your way to your bedroom, only stumbling slightly, and retrieved a pair of grey sweats along with an old, 2xl 5k t-shirt you got when you used to run. You handed them to Spencer before showing him to the guest bedroom. “Goodnight Spence,” you said.

“Goodnight Y/N, sleep well,” he replied, waiting for you to shut the door before he started changing. 

You closed the door before returning to your own bedroom. You closed the door and leaned against it, doing everything in your power not to walk back into the guest room and kiss him. Or ask him to do unspeakable things to you. You knew he wouldn’t, mostly because he’d ramble off that intoxicated consent is not consent and probably something about respecting you and your professional relationship too much blah blah blah. Sighing, you went to unzip your dress to change into pajamas. 

No matter how much you twisted your body, the zipper was just out of reach, laying directly in the space between your flailing hands. Shit. 

Moments later, you found yourself outside of the guest bedroom, knocking gently on the door.

“Spence?” 

The door swung open and it took everything you had not to gasp. The grey sweatpants hung low on his hips and the t-shirt clung ever so slightly to his frame. You heard Spencer clear his throat and your eyes shot up to meet his. He caught you staring.

“Can you help me?” you asked, trying to distract from your staring. You turned around and lifted your hair, hoping he’d get the message and help with the zipper. Luckily, he did. Chills ran up your spine as he slowly pulled it down, just enough so you could reach it yourself. He was always so respectful, especially when you were as drunk as you currently were.

“Thanks,” you whispered, moving towards your bedroom door.

“Sweet dreams,”

Your heart fluttered again as you made it back to your room without embarrassing yourself any further. Now freed from the cursed dress, you took no time in removing your makeup and throwing on an old shirt. Almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were drifting off to sleep.

----------

A small crash in the kitchen woke you up. You sat straight up in bed, reaching for the gun in your bedside table drawer. Slowly, you peaked your head out of your room, keeping your gun extended as you swept the hallway. Your head was pounding and fuzzy, definitely from the alcohol. Penelope and you should never be allowed to drink together again. She always talks you into doing too many shots. Quietly, you maneuvered yourself into the living space of the apartment, squinting against the bright light streaming in your curtains. And then you smelled...coffee? You lowered your gun as you crept towards the kitchen.

“Oh shoot. Shoot shoot shoot son of a-” a hushed voice came from the kitchen, freezing as you rounded the corner. Spencer sat on the floor, picking up the remains of an old coffee mug. 

“Spencer?” you said, trying to piece together the flashes of memory you had from the night before.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurted out. “I was trying to be quiet and then I knocked over the mug. I just know coffee usually helps with hangovers and you had a lot to drink last night and-you have a gun?”

“You’re in my apartment?” you asked, attempting to process what he was saying along with the scene in front of you. Spencer stood up, stretching slightly and revealing a small strip of skin in between one of your old t-shirts and a pair of your oversized sweats. That certainly didn’t help you focus on deciphering what was going on.

“You asked me to stay last night. I hope it’s okay that I did?” Spencer’s eyes were trained on your face, attempting to analyze your reaction. You sighed, a few pieces of last night fitting together. You secured the safety on your glock before sitting it on the counter.

“Of course it’s okay Spence. I’m just trying to put everything together, that’s all,” you assured him, moving to grab the dustpan out of a cabinet and sweep up the mug remains.

“I’m sorry about the mug,” he repeated. You laughed. It was one of the generic FBI mugs they gave out when they forced you to go to seminars. 

“Spence, it’s fine. Trust me, it wasn’t even in my top ten favorite mugs,” you said, reaching into the cupboard for another. “Here, try not to drop this one.” You handed him a different mug.

You watched as he read the text under his breath. “How does Pavlov keep his hair so shiny? He conditions it…” Spencer looked at you with a very dry expression as he tried not to laugh. “Pavlov puns? Really?”

“You’re not the only one who can make bad jokes. Now, the creamer should be on the door, spoons are in that drawer,” you said, pointing to the drawer a little to his left, “and I keep sugar cubes in that cabinet, look to the right.” You poured yourself a cup of black coffee before leaning against the counter and taking a sip. Spencer made his coffee too and you both stood in comfortable silence, drinking your coffee.

“Thank you,” you finally said, avoiding Spencer’s eyes as you swirled your coffee around the mug. “You didn’t have to do any of that last night, you’re a really good friend. I’m so lucky to have you.” You met his eyes, noting...something off? You couldn’t place it. You raised a brow at him.

He sighed and looked away, trying to brush off the subject. You weren’t having it.

“Talk to me,” you coaxed, placing your hand over his. You expected him to move. You realized after you did it that you were pushing a physical boundary with him. Guilt began to flood you until you realized, he didn’t move. You didn’t withdraw his hand or flinch. Instead, he stretched his fingers ever so slightly under your touch so they brushed against your palm. “Spence?”

“I- Y/N, I value you so much,” he started.

“Spence, I know you do-”

“And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make you feel like you owe me or anything for being nice to you last night-”

“Spence…?”

“I don’t want to just be your friend,” he sputtered out.

Oh. Oh. You looked at him, wide eyed, trying to figure out if he really meant what you thought he meant.

“I’m sorry, forget it,” he immediately recanted, placing his mug down on the counter. “I should go,”

You caught his arm as he tried to move past you. Your hand ran gently up his chest, causing little goosebumps to pop up on his arms. His fingers barely brushed your thighs as they ghosted up them. His head leaned into the crook of your neck. “I don’t want to be your friend, Y/N,” he breathed against the sensitive skin of your neck. “I want to be able to do this instead.” He pressed his lips gently to your neck, kissing it once. 

It felt like all the air left your lungs the moment his lips touched you. You could feel him chuckle against your neck at your reaction. He kissed your neck again, more intensely this time. You melted into his arms as he peppered your neck with kisses. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, causing him to lift his head from your neck.

“Yes?” 

“Kiss me.”

[itspileofgoodthings]

HI HELLO

Welcome to another installment of “Maria over-analyzes gifs and reylo micro-expressions” because over-analyzing, reylo, and micro-expressions are LITERALLY my favorite things on the planet. This over-analyzing is incredibly intense and microscopic so consider yourself warned. Let me invite you to not be weirded out though and just go with it! Life is short.

(I’d say this is the fault of quarantine and our fraught climate but it’s not. I’m always like this.)

Let us begin with this moment.

How. HOW. Is there this much happening in a gif?? Only because of these two amazing actors. What a blissful moment.

First of all there is Daisy’s smile—beautifully coinciding with her saying his name, like the smile and the name HAVE to go together. It’s such an open smile and it feels both full of an understated certainty—she says his name with such certainty—and such soft surprise. She! Is! So! Happy! Here! In a way she never demanded or saw coming!!

Secondly, her hand against his face. It’s hesitant and tentative and a little questioning and so incredibly gentle. She’s trying to process that he’s here, asking if it’s really him, if—after all this time—it means what she thinks it means. (IT DOES. KILL ME.)

Then there’s the expression on her face when the camera is on his face. Obviously you can’t see it full on but you can see her look down, like she can’t quite hold his gaze completely but then you can see her smile again when she looks back up. Rey...........doesn’t smile that often and here she literally can’t stop smiling. She can’t hold his gaze but she also can’t stop smiling. I love it.

Now moving on to his face. I can’t believe the way his face transforms between the moment when she’s not touching his face and the moment she is. His face absolutely alters at her touch, the previous intense love and concern suddenly suffused with happiness. If Rey rarely smiles, Ben has never up to this point looked happy AT ALL. And this moment is the moment when it really starts to wash over him like a wave. It’s still a little bit disbelieving—I feel like you can see him asking his own “is this real”—but he’s also welcoming in the moment and the happiness with his whole soul. It is. A lot. It is. SO MUCH. AHHHHHHH. I NEED A MINUTE OR SEVEN HOURS.

Also like, not to get overly detailed or weird about this—too late! It’s why I’m here!—but I love the way his eyes sort of rove over her face. It’s a look that we always have when we’re looking at something we love as intensely as we can, trying to take in every detail, trying to remember it. It’s a moment that has such hunger in it and I don’t mean just sexual desire. I mean I don’t not mean i guess, but it’s the purest, highest form of it. This moment shows you what that desire is in its purest form. And what it is is just. LOVE. Body and soul. Desire for the whole person. It’s the way it SHOULD be. I weep.

OKAY SO!! Rey can’t stop smiling here either!! And also looks down again!!! I just need to point that out!!!!! (Also I’ve read a lot of people say that they think she’s saying something here which maybe? That kind of makes sense! But I also think that she could really just be smiling and also trying to sort of deal with The Way He Is Looking At Her!!!!!!)

I love his expression here. It goes from the most peaceful tenderness—seriously Kinda wish I could freeze frame the very first second of this gif because he looks sooooo contented—to a SERIOUS face journey that I can only describe as love and intense worry??!?!? Like he’s definitely asking a question here and I actually don’t think it’s “can I kiss you?” as much as a cross between “are you sure you’re alright” and “do you know how much I love you?? do you know what you mean to me??” It is a LOT to handle, friends. A LOT.

Also wanna point out that these Two Looks are bridged by an almost smile??? He still hasn’t fully smiled but there’s a smile in the in-between moment of these two expressions that is a smile of friendship, almost, like he’s saying “can you believe we’re here and NOT trying to kill each other” and this might be a stretch—I say, on the post about analyzing facial expressions—it’s a little wry, in true solo fashion. His father’s son, indeed.

This is basically an extension of the same moment on his part so I will merely add that if I had to point out a different meaning in his expression from the last gif it would be that this one has maybe a touch more of fear, just that question that’s still on his mind that’s asking if he is actually good enough. (Love how the smile keeps trying to break through though.)

Now I Must point out three things happening with Rey!!

1) she looks down AGAIN! And yes I know that’s a pretty normal thing and that people don’t maintain unbroken eye contact all the time but also HE IS!! And it’s just cute that she’s still !! like!!! Trying to deal!!! Imagine being looked at like that. Can’t relate but seems both Fun and like A Lot To Deal With.

2) her hand is increasingly steadier against his face, not as floating, not as questioning as it was, more thoughtful, more clearly possessive

3) the smile is gone and that’s because she is Thinking About Kissing Him

Et voila!

Obviously Rey’s face is the Big Player Here. It is a beautiful moment of hesitance but not, I would like to point out, one where she’s asking “do I want to do this” but almost a practical hesitance, a kind of steeling herself moment, a “I’ve never done this/I have some tactical decisions to make” kind of moment. There IS still a touch of “do I want to do this” of course, and I love thinking about how this is an extension of her whole long arc of running from romance and running from him, that comes down to this tiny beat of hesitance but mostly this is a moment of gathering resolution and courage. ALSO now that I think about it she too has a moment like his that’s like “can’t believe I’m really doing this, who would have thought” in that flicker of a smile that crosses her face. This is Some quality acting. And THE BALANCE IT IMPLIES. AHHH.

Other things to note. Obviously it’s so important that 1) he stays so still until he’s fully certain she’s chosen it and 2) he rises to meet her kiss before it’s even fully there. I just. It means a lot to me on a character level and I WILL cry if I think about it and also i feel overwhelmed and shy about this moment and do not want to cheapen it with words so we are going to speed on to the next moment but not before I say that I love this kiss because it is, on the whole, quick and simple and decisive and understated. It’s a beautiful contrast to their whole journey up to this point, which is very long and lingering and slow in terms of gazes and Moments. This is just So Simple and Pure and Certain and it happens fast. Some movies (actors) would have overplayed the hesitance or newness of it but they don’t. Because they do know and love each other. And this IS right and I love that and I cry.

Skipping ahead to this moment because there are no faces to analyze (and gosh darn I have to give them some privacy and just let SOME moments be just theirs)

I love: Rey’s sigh of relief, her breathing out moment that breaks the kiss, her hand now firmly against his face, and also just literally how cute and young Daisy looks from the back. AHHHHHH. So pure.

Ben’s face here—man. It gets me. To be honest I think this is the saddest his face looks in the whole sequence. This IS a moment of sadness for him and I think you can see it. It is very pure though, detached from anger or any kind of selfishness. It is, as I have said many times, a moment of almost-teenaged starry-eyed softness and it is sad. It is almost thoughtful, a moment that is one of Taking In what just happened and what it means. And at the same time that I think this moment is teenaged—he looks SO young here—I also think you can kind of see a window into the man he is and also the husband he would have been as he got older and spent a lifetime with her. Yeah it’s okay. You can cry about that loss. I’m crying tbh. And maybe finally processing some of the grief of him losing the fullness of a human life. It IS a loss and a real one that he didn’t get to live for and even more importantly with her, that this is his first and last kiss with her and not the first of many. I think we can see that on his face here, see it in his eyes in this moment.

But here we are. (I’m going to start “backwards” and keeping going with Ben first bc it makes sense.) Ben in both true Solo fashion and true Ben fashion, doesn’t mourn long. Delight, full delight, that’s been brimming under the surface this entire scene but hasn’t quite broken through yet, breaks through here. It’s—look, poets have written about moments like these. If I were a poet, I’d write a sonnet on this moment but I’m not so let me flail about for a second anyway. It breaks over him like a wave and this moment isn’t just a smile, it’s a LAUGH. And it’s transformative. Chelsea (northgalis on Twitter I believe) wrote a stunning meta on this moment and what it means for him in terms of his whole journey, talking about how this is the moment where the spell breaks and the mask Ben has been wearing on his face fully shatters and we see The Boy he should have been and GOT TO BE here in all his beautiful, joyous glory. She broke the curse here; all suffering and tortured anxiety falls away in this moment.

And it is boyish!! When I first watched this moment I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe struck by how boyish he looks here! It isn’t what I expected; it took me by such beautiful surprise and I suppose it’s why in the end his death hurt me so much less than I thought it would. Because his story Is so deeply that of a boy and this is the Fullness of that, a moment he had that does make up for everything, for every kind of suffering. To me, a moment CAN recompense for a lifetime of sorrow. To me that is the secret of joy and of love. But now’s not the time for a meta on that—that’s part of an essay i need to write later and also I know it’s not why everyone is here.

Let’s get back to analyzing on a more technical level! Back to his smile.

I love the way Adam chose to play it. There is no danger of it being “cringey” because of the way he plays it—and on paper this really could have been. It’s the most Han-like moment to me. That almost reckless, almost cheeky, good-hearted joy. It’s a very skillfully played moment, just on a technical level. It’s High Difficulty and he pulls. It. Off. Is my point.

And Rey’s face. (Yes we’re still talking about the above gif. Let me add it again so you don’t have to scroll up.)

Rey’s face here is PERFECT TO ME. Truly a top five Rey/Daisy Ridley face moment for me. I love that her smile fades as his grows. I know some people found it odd or upsetting but I love it. They always hold each other in balance and this is no exception. She settles back into herself in this moment. She is so relieved that she kissed him and that it went okay, she’s relieved that her Arc of struggling against him over and!!!! in the beautiful give-and-take they never fail to display I think this is HER moment of processing loss. She looks at him with such tenderness here. Rey is not tender like Ben is; she certainly does not show it on her face in the same bleeding-heart, utterly open way he does. She’s so much quieter about it. But this breath of relief? This moment of grave stillness? That’s Rey saying that he is fully hers now. I love it so much.

And finally—my header. The Best Moment???? The BEST moment!! You can see the laugh even more here. His face is ALL LINES IN THIS MOMENT. Smile line, eye crinkles—I just can’t. He’s just utterly blissful here. I want to say he is grateful but that would feel like he was trying to be and he’s not!! There is no processing here, or trying. It has all sunk in—romance, Rey, the kiss, what this all means—and this is his response. Only joy. Nothing but joy. A life of pain and hurt and this is where he ends up. Yeah you better believe I’m crying!!!

Also let me point out. Rey does NOT break the gaze here—and Ben does. The BALANCE. Always the balance. KILL ME. What I love about this moment is that it IS Rey’s moment “to look at him and love him” and let those moments be the same thing. (cc: match) She is looking at him here Unflinchingly with none of her earlier shyness or embarrassment and how right it is that we don’t get to see it. Rey, always private, always quiet, has always loved Ben where we can’t quite see it, in the deepest, most private corners of her heart. But he can feel it and he can see it and that’s really all that matters in the end.

My final, final, final thought is that I love her hand against his face here, gently proprietary, I believe I once called it. It is her way of treasuring him, memorizing his smile and this moment forever and it also says “Reader, he’s mine. I married him.”

And between the first gif in this set and the last, she did.

Thanks for reading!

*credit to @benandreykissed​ for the beautiful gifs!