#i need to blog this film more

[spectrecowboy]

oh the gay goo..... they're back... <3

[bluehairedspidey]

staring at my selfies like narcissus at the lake

[dozydawn]

Snatch (2000) directed by Guy Ritchie.

“Who’s Bullet Tooth Tony?”

[averlym]

,,, little lemmings in line...

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

Fred looking Sweet in S O U R

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

I've somewhat made a horror movie blog (not on tumblr) so now I need to figure out what to post there. There's several topics I'd be interested in exploring, but idk how to make them sound interesting or good

[misterradio]

take it to the bank boys, the utah teapot is in strawinsky and the mysterious house

[correct-bangtannies]

I don't even like men and I'm somehow already a military wife, what goes on

PS. Don't open the tags unless you want a big ass wall of text of me rambling on your screen

[jacquelinemerritt]

Final Fantasy VII: Machinabridged Episode 5 Review

Originally posted on October 22nd, 2015

Cloud prepares to dress as a woman, and nobody seems to mind.

If you’ve been following my blog for a while, it is likely that you’ll recall that in my review of Dragonball Z: Abridged Episode 15, I criticized Team Four Star for their handling of a character meant to represent trans and masculine women, who after having her gender revealed was subject to many demeaning jokes that sent the message of the inadequacy of women who don’t conform to traditional expectations of femininity (a critique that I still hold to).

And then, you might recall that KaiserNeko, one of the lead writers and editors for DBZA, reblogged my review of that episode, apologizing and explaining that they had mishandled the representation of women like Dodoria unintentionally, and their focus was solely on keeping the situation in character.

I bring this up now because Final Fantasy VII: Machinabridged Episode 5 does an excellent job at showing just how much Team Four Star has grown as writers since the release of DBZA Episode 15, wiping away any concerns I had about how they would handle this part of the story.

See, Final Fantasy VII contains, as an incredibly important part of its plot, a sequence where Cloud must cross-dress and pose as a woman in order to rescue Tifa, and I was worried that the over-the-top caricatures present throughout most of this series would carry over into their handling of the cross-dressing sequence, which could easily lead to harmful jokes at the expense of trans and gender-nonconforming people.

Takahata101 nails it from the very beginning though, and this happens in part due to the presence of Aerith, whose unbridled optimism and supportiveness has her leading Cloud gleefully through the transition process, where someone like Tifa or Barrett would have immediately rejected the idea.

It’s also incredibly meaningful that Cloud is the one to suggest that he cross-dress; while he makes the comment that he could do so off-handedly, it still suggests that posing as the other gender isn’t outside of his comfort zone, and the ease with which Aerith convinces him to go for it provides more evidence for this, and it is finally fully proven that Cloud desires this when he justifies cross-dressing in the terms of how much better than Tifa he would look while he saved her.

It’s also important to note the positive reactions of Giuseppe and the Church of Brodin to Cloud’s desire. Giuseppe has great dresses all around, but as soon as he realizes that it will be Cloud’s first dress, he abandons the rest of his work in order to make the best dress of his life just for him.

Similarly, the Church of Brodin are planning on forcing Cloud into a masculine challenge of strength to obtain a wig, but when they find out that he wants the wig for the sake of (in Aerith’s words) “becoming a woman,” they give it to him without the contest, claiming that it is not their place to question or challenge his lifestyle choice.

It’s interesting as well that the wig, which normally might be seen as an object denoting femininity, has been adopted by a church of ripped, masculine dudes as a symbol of their god’s masculinity, which is a fairly clever inversion of expectations.

Finally, when the members of the Church of Brodin give Cloud the wig, and Squaticles says that no one has the right to discriminate against another person’s lifestyle, Cloud says that he feels that context is needed. Now, I’m just a girl running a film criticism blog and mostly writing about abridged series, but I can’t help but wonder if, just perhaps, that’s a nod to my criticism of DBZA Episode 15. Maybe I’m being a bit presumptive here, but it would actually be pretty amazing if that were the case, as I’d have a definitive example of my writing having an effect on the world, and who doesn’t want that?

Rating: 5/5

If you enjoyed this review, consider supporting me on Patreon.

Stray Observations

I do feel I should add a brief addendum pointing out that crossdressing and being a trans or masculine woman are not the same, but the handling of gender non-conformity in this episode is still excellent.

Cloud: “Aerith, it would appear to me that Tifa has been kidnapped by a Mafia leader with the intention to give her the sex.” Aerith: “Oh no, she can’t do that ‘til she’s married!”

“Am I, the owner of my own store, sure that I have anything else besides drugs? Noooo, I’m pretty sure.”

[justanythingfromourday]

Three Films and a Couple of Thoughts

22.07.23 - 10.08.23

My phone calendar for July was not just marked with bill payments and birthdays but also the release dates of three films, complete with an accompanying reminder that would inevitably light the screen, catch my attention, ensure that I was booking the tickets in time. The films were ‘Past Lives’, ‘Barbie’ and ‘Oppenheimer’. I watched all three of them with my partner, my usual film companion if I’m not watching something with our parents or you, and each of these experiences – Past Lives, 6.05PM show at INOX, Oppenheimer, 11.55PM show at Cinepolis and Barbie, 12pm noon show at PVR – was singular in its own way, for a myriad of reasons.

Notwithstanding the absurdly high prices of tickets where a Rs. 350 ticket starts to look ‘cheap’ (to me, the upper-middle class consumer, with enough liquidity to throw cash even at a coca cola priced at Rs. 360!!), what was it like to watch each of these films in the cinema? Let’s also not forget that all three of these films are, to varying degrees, in English or English-centric (since Past Lives is a mix of Korean and English, subtitled only in English), the implication being that the audiences for all of these will be English-understanding, if not English speaking etc. I think it’s important to note all of these things – the cost, the language, the space of the cinema itself – in the present moment, before diving into the ‘criticism’ / ‘opinion’ portion of my piece. The subtext of all this is: how communal of an experience does the cinema still provide? Who can afford the obnoxiously priced snacks and the reclining seats, let alone the ticket itself? Who has the ‘time’ to luxuriously book a noon time show, in the middle of a work day, or one late at night in a city like Delhi? With the rapidly intensifying need to show more and more ‘content’, as made obvious by the number of screens in a particular cinema ‘complex’ (no longer hall, no longer single screen), the question that also comes to mind is this: is consumption everything?

When I watched the trailer for Past Lives, I felt an appreciative nervousness that seems to be evoked by nearly all A24 films; the subtle promise that this movie, this narrative will shift the way you might think or feel things. After all, a film about a Korean-American woman, married to a white guy, who then runs into her childhood sweetheart, is a film that can open so many doors, invite so many questions, evoke that complex sense of yearning and uncertainty, while attaching it to memory-making and the politics of identity. So I went into the hall with this promise in mind, expecting a complex and touching narrative about love, identity, history…but by the first half, it was beginning to seem that I had expected too much. In the interval, when my partner and I stepped out to get popcorn, we exchanged only sceptical glances and no words, both perhaps trying to let the film run its course, refusing an early judgement or indictment, generous to a fault.

Past Lives is one of the most disappointing films I have ever had to watch in the cinema. Not only did I nearly fall asleep twice in the first half, the gaping holes in plot and the sheer lack of any chemistry, or depth in any of the relationships made me want to pull my hair out. The film seemed to think that unnervingly long, awkward-without-purpose silences between characters is all that a context of tenderness requires – this particular choice irked me throughout. Our protagonist meets her childhood crush repeatedly over the course of 20-30 years, after gaps that are decades long and their conversation amounts to this: did you eat anything today? – UNNECESSARY FORCED SILENCE -  What prize do you want to win for your writing now? – UNNECESSARY FORCED SILENCE - Do you and your partner fight?  - UNNECESSARY FORCED SILENCE – and so on and so forth. If in these year long intervals, they have gained no curiosity about each other nor the ability to hold a single engaging conversation, then perhaps they should stop pretending they’re in love. The absurdity does not stop here, with the pretend-serious quiet that forces the film into disfigured drivel, but extends to all other aspects of the film – the protagonist has a younger sister and a pair of parents mentioned only once in the film, never to reappear or be mentioned onscreen again, the protagonist is a writer who stops talking to her crush the first time round because she wants to write but we never get to see what she’s writing, or what her work life is like or anything ‘writerly’ at all, the protagonist meets her white husband at a retreat and the ONLY conversation they have is where she monologues in the most dry, unaffected manner about ‘in-yeon’, a seemingly ‘deep’ concept that gives literally no weight to the film but seems to be its alleged driving force, before we drift into their marriage that has, again, no depth, feeling, tension, nothing, and in one particularly galling scene when the protagonist invites her childhood crush to a dinner/bar scene with her husband, the two of them start out talking in Korean with her translating into English for her husband before descending entirely into Korean, excluding the husband from the exchange which is mirrored literally by the camera cutting him out the frame. Not only is this absolutely, unfathomably unreal and stupid, they also manage to discuss what a ‘life together’ might have been like….right there, with the ousted white guy sitting somewhere within earshot. How has this not come up before, you know, when they met like 5-6 times alone? How can anybody take their spouse out with an erstwhile crush/flame and proceed to ignore said spouse for hours on end, without any ramifications? How is the said spouse not even hurt a tiny bit? What is the logic of this film? What is the meaning of this film? Is it enough only to put one ‘deep’ Korean concept in, fill the run time with awful, hankering silences and characters that appear to be more cardboard than real people, and put some stringy-ambient music in the background – in order to make an ‘art’ film, a ‘stunning’ cinematic debut?

I call bullshit.

At the end of the film, my partner and I turned to each other and both of us said….WHAT? IS THAT IT? IS THAT WHAT WE PAID SO MUCH MONEY FOR, AND GAVE OUR TIME TO? It was in a senseless, almost slurring kind of disbelief that we walked back home, unable to articulate how awful the film really was, especially because it pretended so hard not to be anything but ‘touching’ and ‘simmering’ and ‘beautiful’? When we pulled out reviews of the film, the disbelief sky-rocketed to another level. Past Lives was a critically acclaimed film, by the measure of most, if not nearly all reviews. We kept shaking our heads, wondering if we’d watched another film, the wrong cut, or if we were just stupid. Was there something we didn’t understand? Were we the ones missing something, and not the film itself? After all, in varying publications and across platforms, it was being hailed as a ‘masterpiece’. And the only words we had for it were: bull-fucking-shit.

.

Oppenheimer was a midnight show, and we were running late, having had to look for parking and the cinema itself - of course we would arrive at the wrong shopping mall first. We missed the first five-seven minutes of the film, but got settled in quickly. A fair amount of time has elapsed since I watched the film so my thoughts aren't quite as dense or immediate - it was an interesting movie overall, with a number of elements that faltered and misspoke. Here's what I liked: the impeccable sound design, often a 'staple' of Nolan's films, the 'character' of Albert Einstein (perhaps acted too perfectly, in my opinion, a portrayal that teetered on the edge of whimsy but never became a caricature?), Cillian fucking Murphy making the most of a script that didn't fully grasp or even attempt to grasp the complexities of Oppenheimer's life or the bomb dropping itself, the popping up of random actors - though after a time, it became a bit tedious. Hello, Rami Malek, is that all you'll be saying?

It's also indicative that the cinema was predominantly 'male', full of tech bros and cishet men that had turned out en masse to rave about Nolan - I am late to the discourse surrounding his films and the women portrayed in them (awfully, poorly, tediously, repetitively awful etc etc) but of course that was one of my major issues with the film. Plenty of reviews about this. I remain unconvinced by a film that leaads up so heavily to a world-history changing bombing but refuses to show us even ONE visual of the devastation in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It's not enough to show us this singular white man's 'guilt' (very sparsely, might I add) - for a film made in this day and age, it certainly doesn't seem to want to reckon with the sheer scale of violence this moment unleashed upon the world. To be preoccupied with 'Oppenheimer' is a lazier, easier choice and still the film meanders in the second half, a little too obsessed with the trial / American politics, rather than the absolutely real time ramifications of the bomb. The film seems almost forgiving, when it should perhaps adopt a more complex approach to Oppenheimer. Don't even start me on the women - that's a whole other shit show. Literally nothing works in that realm, not for even a second, is any woman onscreen remotely believable or real, or even realized as a person. So Nolan has bumbled a number of things in the film - in parts, the film felt likes three different films put together, the editing was quite poor and abrupt, the women utterly destroyed in favour of a boring trial and an all-too-easily-forgiven antagonist, without a moment taken to acknowledge the horror he brought upon the world through his world. Underwhelming and not well thought out, I'd say but I really enjoyed the way sound functioned throughout film. For those raving about the 'cinematography' or 'visuals' - friends, come on, it's alright, it's pretty standard. Some things do strike you but overall, it's just alright.

.

We were on time for Barbie. What a relief. After watching three films with missing beginnings (these two above, and even the new Spiderman film!), I was relieved to see WB ads playing out on the big screen. My partner was very sorry that neither of us were wearing pink - the cinema hall was flushed in said colour, mostly, and I liked how 'extra' it felt, almost exuberant? But at the same time, the company making Barbies now making films about barbies - do we get more meta in capitalism than this? Probably. But that subtext stayed with me.

On first thought, right at the first watch, I really enjoyed the film. I laughed a lot, and I laughed at how much my partner laughed because some of the humour really worked well. Funnily enough and like a small majority, Ken emerged as my favourite character over the course of the film. The production design and the music was very well done most of the time, and some of the writing was very crisp, very intelligent. There were some issues though - many of which emerged in my conversations with other viewers, as well as my partner, as we read through internet discourse, reviews, tweets, instagram hot takes and so on, rethinking many of our initial thoughts. Though Barbie remained very much a fun film, one that should certainly be watched in the cinema, there was a sense that this film was just fun.

A great bit of superficial fun, that did not try to gesture at deeper meanings, nor truly try to break gender binaries (because how could Barbies???? even as there is one radical moment where Barbie and Ken, in the real world, tell construction workers, that neither has genitals, a radicality immediately defeated by how binarised the worlds remain and perhaps the fact that Barbie goes to the gynaecologist, confirming the bio essentialist reality of her as a 'woman' idk). Even the Weird Barbie wasn't weird enough for me - wasn't unsettling enough, wasn't subversive enough, didn't possess any qualities that might offset the 'sweet' 'funness' of the Barbie universe. No character beyond Barbie or Ken were developed, especially the real world mother-daughter pair upon whom much action hinges, but who remain empty vessels, unrealized people with no interior lives or histories, nothing. That one monlogue that has garnered significant praise across the Barbie discourse was quite average, in my opinion - it did not force me to think deeper or did it connect with me very emotionally. In a landscape where we've broken gender right open and are actively trying to collapse boundaries, this film did little in that direction, but enforced these dualities instead. I don't think it even properly examined how patriarchy reduces men and harms them deeply too.

I came across a recent review that seemed to be arguing that Ken should have his own movie - because this movie is called 'Barbie' and it should be only about her!!! and I found this to be quite a reductive approach because if you're trying to examine patriarchy and gender roles (forget race or ethnicity guys, that's pushing it right now) - then we need as many narratives as possible in there, and it was very interesting to see a 'Ken'. I did not feel that he 'took over' filmic space meant for 'Barbie', or that his presence or storyline detracted from the larger narrative - in fact, often, he was the most entertaining, compelling aspect of the film. I love Margot Robbie and she's done an excellent job, but I think the film overpromises - as does much of the discourse/reviewing around it. It's a fun watch, surely and you'll be singing along and you'll love the visuals - kinda made me think of Katy Perry's California Gurls a bit (I could think of other references too but eh?) - but it's a surface level film. You kinda get what you see, and not much else. And that's alright, perhaps, because it is a film by a company that essentially makes these dolls that many of us spent our lives idealizing (and yes, breaking etc etc). So yeah, thanks Greta Gerwig but you did a lot better with your earlier films. Feminism doesn't really need Barbie at the moment, I think.

.

I'm all done here, in a bit of a rushed manner. I also semi-watched this film Unpregnant on the plane but I don't really have much to say except I'm glad I didn't finish because it didn't make me feel anything at all, really. Average, average, below average?

As for this coming month, let's see where the watching and viewing takes me. You know, we're currently watching Good Omens together. Made in Heaven just came out. I also finished Wellmania. Perhaps time for another post, in a little bit. I hope these anecdotes get a little more interesting as we go, and perhaps more critical/well informed.

~ U

[ashleylikeshorror]

Who Invited Them || 2022

This review might have spoilers. TW.

🖤🦇💀👻💀🦇🖤

I'll keep this one brief as I possibly can.

This slow burn didn't foreshadow anything as much as it was just painfully predictable. We all know who they are and what's going to happen. Why are we taking so long? I guess I also missed what relevance their son had to do with anything?

The acting between Melissa Tang (Margo) and Perry Mattfeld (Sasha) was decent in comparison to the men on screen as every scene concerning the men felt so very forced. Honestly, I almost turned the film off a few times because Ryan Hansen as Adam was so frustrating to watch.

The only "pro" is that it was genuinely horrifying watching the twins weave their web of lies of so... effortlessly. Seeing the manipulation and gas lighting happen was exceptionally uncomfortable. In this feat, Who Invited Them did well.

Yet as the credits rolled, I found myself feeling pretty unfulfilled. Who Invited Them left a lot to be desired. Outside the few dark jokes tossed our way, I didn't find myself enjoying this one. There's better home invasion films out there.

TL:DR: I didn't get it. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I wanted to. I just didn't.

Acting 0.5/2 ⭐

Music/Soundtrack 1/ 2 ⭐

Cinematography .5/ 2 ⭐

Storytelling/Plot .5/ 2 ⭐

Enjoyability/ RW Value 0/ 2 ⭐

Total 2.5/10

This review was reposted from my horror instagram. Be a pal and like the original post? I do l4l. 🥰🤩🥰

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[oakenbranch]

THE ARKENSTONE,   ONE OF THE SILMARILS;   A SHORT ESSAY.

what we wanted was to say that even with all the wealth of erebor,   thorin could not rest until he had the arkenstone.   this one peerless jewel that,   in thorin’s estimation,   bestowed kingship upon its possessor.   without it he was not whole.   he had invested so much meaning in the arkenstone that without it he felt his identity and legitimacy were incomplete.   in the end,   as impressive and otherworldly as it was,   the stone was just a material object,   a bauble,   a trinket.   its power was attributed and not innate.   though he does not understand it,   thorin has given that power to the stone and trapped himself.     weta’s the hobbit chronicles,   PHILIPPA BOYENS’ COMMENTARY.

the story already had the ring and the gold,   so another talisman may have been one too many,   but the right to rule,   it being the king’s jewel,   is where the power of the arkenstone lay.   [...]   ultimately,   the arkenstone was just a gem and the power of loyalty was beyond a talisman.     weta’s the hobbit chronicles,   RICHARD ARMITAGE’S COMMENTARY. 

like the crystal of diamonds it appeared,   and yet was more strong than adamant,   so that no violence could mar it or break it within the kingdom of the arda.   [...]   and the inner fire of the silmarils fëanor made of the blended light of the trees of the valinor,   which lives in them yet,   though the trees have long withered and shine no more.   therefore even in the darkness of the deepest treasury the silmarils of their own radiance shown like the stars of the varda;   and yet,   as they were indeed living things,   they rejoined in light and received it and gave it back in hues more marvelous than before.   [...]   for fëanor began to love the silmarils with a greedy love,   and grudged the sight of them to all save to his father and his seven sons   [...]     the silmarillion,   OF THE SILMARILS AND THE UNREST OF THE NOLDOR.

but the jewel burned in the hand of maedhros in pain unbearable;   and he perceived it to be as eönwë had said,   and that his right thereto had become void,   and that the oath was in vain.   and being in anguish and despair he cast himself into a gaping chasm of fire,   and so ended;   and the silmaril that he bore was taken into the bosom of the earth.     the silmarillion,   OF THE VOYAGE OF EÄRENDIL.

“ the arkenstone!   the arkenstone! ”   murmured thorin in the dark,   half dreaming with his chin upon his knees.   “ it was like a globe with a thousand facets;   it shone like silver in the firelight,   like water in the sun,   like snow under the stairs,   like rain upon the moon! ” the hobbit,   CHAPTER TWELVE.

it was the arkenstone,   the heart of the mountain.   so bilbo guessed from thorin’s description;   but indeed there could not be two such gems,   even in so marvelous a hoard,   even in all the world.   [...]   now as he came near,   it was tinged with a flickering sparkle of many colors at the surface,   reflected and splintered from the wavering light of his torch.   the great jewel shone before his feet of its own inner light,   and yet, cut and fashioned by the dwarves,   who had dug it from the heart of the mountain long ago,   it took all light that fell upon it and changed it into ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow.     the hobbit,   CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

the elvenking himself,   whose eyes were used to things of wonder and beauty,   stood up in amazement.   even bard gazed marveling at it in silence.   it was as if the globe had been filled with moonlight and hung before them in a net woven of the glint of frosty stars.     the hobbit,   CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

they buried thorin deep beneath the mountain,   and bard laid the arkenstone upon his breast.   “ there let it lie ‘til the mountain falls! ”   he said.   “ may it bring good fortune to all his folk that dwell here after! ” the hobbit,   CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

the arkenstone,   the heart of the lonely mountain named erebor by the dwarves,   and found deep beneath its roots,   was unearthed during the reign of king thrór and declared to be a divine show of his right to rule.   thus the jewel was established to be a crowner of kings¹,   bestowing as much power as the descent of durin,   for the dwarves believed it to be a gift of mahal,   put forth in the mountain as a homage to their race.   in their creator’s honor did they mount it above the throne of thrór,   where it glittered for all who sought audience with the king of dwarves to behold².   inscriptions depicting the arkenstone were carved all throughout the mountain halls³ and upon great tapestries that hung in the places of history and remembrance.   so it remained ‘til the coming of the dragon,   smaug,   who claimed the mountain and all of its treasure,   devouring the dwarves within it.   in this manner the arkenstone was lost,   for thrór took it from his throne and carried it with him to the treasury,   where the dragon was reveling in its hoard and causing great flying mounds of gold and gems with its wings.   thrór fell and the arkenstone fell with him,   out of his grasp and into the swell of coins that mounted the steps before him.   as it was to be,   the arkenstone remained in smaug’s piles ‘til the company of thorin,   son of thráin,   son of thrór,   descended upon the mountain,   and with the help of the contracted burglar and hobbit,   bilbo baggins,   procured the arkenstone from the dragon,   a creature later slain by one of the race of men.   the arkenstone exchanged hands ‘til,   at the death of thorin,   it was placed upon his breast by bard,   dragon-slayer,   in a display of good will to the dwarves who were now to be the allies of the men of dale henceforth under the reign of king dáin,   son of náin,   son of grór,   and king bard,   descendant of girion.   no longer would the arkenstone crown a dwarf on the throne,   for it was decided,   in honor of his great sacrifice and the mourning of the cost of his quest,   that the jewel would be buried with thorin,   so that he would be crowned forevermore. 

the arkenstone,   though called by the dwarves to be the heart of the mountain,   may never have been so,   and instead be a silmaril forged by fëanor and lost to the depths of the earth with the undoing of maedhros,   son of fëanor,   who flung himself into a gaping chasm.

the choice of arkenstone is significant,   since in other writings tolkien was making at the same time he was using a variant of the same name as a term for the silmarils themselves,   forging a link between the jewels of fëanor and the arkenstone of [thrór] in the legendarium   [...]   the idea that the arkenstone could be a silmaril,   or was at least somehow linked to the silmarils in tolkien’s mind,   has additional support from the philosophical roots of the word.   [...]   like the silmarils in the main branch of the legendarium,   and unlike the one ring in the sequel,   the arkenstone inspires greed but is not itself malicious in any way   [...]     THE HISTORY OFTHE HOBBIT.

though many will point to the finality of one statement that the silmarils could not be found again unless the world was broken and re-made anew:

tolkien had in fact at that point changed his mind four times in the previous fifteen years about the holy jewels’ fate,   all in a series of unpublished works that remained in flux and were each to be replaced by a new version of the story   [...]   it is thus more than possible that tolkien was playing in the hobbit with the idea of having one of fëanor’s wondrous jewels re-appear,   no doubt the one that had been thrown into a fiery chasm,   and lost deep within the earth   —   which is,   after all,   exactly where the dwarves find the arkenstone,   buried at the roots of an extinct volcano.     THE HISTORY OFTHE HOBBIT.

the silmarils may inspire greed,   but they merely reflect the heart of the one who possesses them,   and are no source of evil,   nor do they hold magical sway beyond the manner with which all covet them for their great beauty⁴.   the silmaril named the 'arkenstone' by the dwarves did not encourage madness in either thrór nor thorin⁵.   while they both desired the jewel greatly,   it was because of the power that they themselves attributed to it,   and not anything that the arkenstone itself was able to exact.   the light of the two trees,   which the arkenstone encases, is a good and beauteous light,   and it is only the imperfect heart that all carry and that drives those who see the silmarils to commit treacherous deeds for them which taints the jewels⁶.   in the end,   it was the corruptions of the dwarf ring given to the line of durin long ago that wholly cursed them with a dark greed and a darker madness.   as said by balin,   the arkenstone would not have stayed thorin’s madness,   nor prevented it,   but exacerbated it by its presence.

FOOTNOTES:

1 “ that stone crowns all.   it’s the summit of this great wealth,   bestowing power upon he who bears it.   would it stay his madness?   no,   laddie.   i fear it would make him worse.   perhaps it is best it remains lost. ” THE HOBBIT TRILOGY FILMS.

2    fëanor,   having been supposedly taught by aulë   (mahal),   and with the dwarves being the creation of aulë,   leads to the belief that they would be able to facet the otherwise impervious silmaril,   whilst any other race would not be able to do so,   no matter any secrets learnt.   however,   this interpretation will adhere to the film portrayal of the arkenstone,   which has it smooth and further supports the theory.

3 one such inscription can be seen in the film,   read as:   herein lies the seventh kingdom of durin’s folk.   may the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defense of this home.

4 in the film,   smaug tells bilbo that the arkenstone shall corrupt thorin’s heart and thus destroy him and drive him mad.   the dragon was,   of course,   lying,   attempting to sway the loyalties of bilbo’s heart,   as it had been trying to for most of the conversation,   whether that scheme was lying about the arkenstone’s power,   or that the dwarves valued bilbo so little.   in truth,   as smaug’s powers of cleverness knew,   thorin would be the one to drive himself mad over the stone,   and not the stone itself.

5 nor did the arkenstone inspire any such madness or lust within bilbo baggins,   who was in possession of the jewel for quite some time,   and did not feel any such inclinations past how heavy it seemed to be in his hold:

his small hand would not close about it,   for it was a large and heavy gem;   but he lifted it,   shut his eyes,   and put it in his deepest pocket.     the hobbit,   CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

6 it is true that those with evil intent   (forgoing the idea that mortals cannot touch the silmarils,   which shall not be considered for this,   as it does not fit no matter how holy they may be,   and appears to be an inconsistent particular)   cannot touch the silmarils lest they be burned.   one must consider that bilbo baggins had no evil intent,   and thus was able to carry the stone.   neither did bard,   who also held onto the stone for a period of time.   evil intent,   however,   is a manner of perception;   was thrór truly being evil by his greed,   or disagreeing on the payment of goods for the elves,   should he believe himself in the right?   was thorin,   up to a certain point in the delirium of the dragon-sickness,   behaving evilly as he protected the mountain and what lay inside of it against the perceived threats?   disregarding the fact that we,   as the readers and viewers,   know these to be bad choices,   these characters believed in their hearts,   however swayed,   that they were justified.   ‘til later deeds,   thorin may have been able to hold the arkenstone,   as thrór had,   but his treatment of bilbo baggins after the hobbit’s betrayal would have rendered him unable to touch the arkenstone,   for that was an ill-committed deed and a black mark upon the feelings they shared for one another.   should thorin have lived,   he would still not have been able to touch the arkenstone until he had made amends with bilbo and otherwise honored his word.   it is possible that he may have never been able to ever touch the arkenstone at all.

[coralsgrimes]

Good day for people with no taste and no backbone! (cuz they lost it after Benny's superspreader gig last year!! But probably had a lack of taste before)

Benny Boy will be doing more gigs where he will sing his four or five original songs and then he will butcher songs of actual artists, that would be 30£ lol and yer dignity and probably yer hearing....

The European tour (pains me to type this one) will end with a con in Germany when ye can meet the man himself for 300£, for half a minute!!!! to sponsor his vanity music project!

Also don't forget to buy Benny merch as he got it in bulk from a sweatshop and needs to get rid of it 🙏🙏

[rackartyg]

i HAVE HAD. a LARGE cup of COFFEE and an ENERGY DRINK, totalling 305 MILLIGRAMS of CAFFEINE. i’m NOT taking my (unintended) SLEEPING MEDICATION anymore. i woke up SIX HOURS ago. WHY do i WANT to take a NAP???

[angelicgirlmj]

cultivating your hobbies to become that girl

as summer starts to end, i find my days a little emptier and im full of anticipation for the coming academic year. but the last thing i want to do is waste the last part of summer so now is the perfect time to cultivate or begin a new hobby, focusing on four areas to level up your body, skills, mind and passions! enjoy angels and i hope this gives you some inspiration.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

body

having a hobby that helps you reach your dream body, maintain a healthy lifestyle or just help with your mental health (as moving your body always does!) is such a good idea. the past few months my workout schedule has decreased due to the amount of schoolwork i have had and exam season so now is the perfect time for me to get more disciplined and build up a good workout scheme. my hobbies based around my body are pilates or yoga, both of which help me with my fitness goals. here are some more ideas/inspiration for some hobbies you could start:

‘hot girl walks’ - set a goal for your daily steps and go on walks everyday to help you achieve that.

running daily.

swimming daily.

tennis or badminton daily.

joining a sports club such as football or gymnastics.

dance - could be by yourself at home following dance workouts!

strength training.

starting a fitness challenge - such as a month long youtube challenge.

start making your own fitness content! film videos or write tutorials.

bike riding daily.

skills

finding a hobby that helps you develop/cultivate your skills is so important. mine personally is cooking/baking as it helps me focus on giving my body what it needs, becoming more independent and providing for those i love. here are some ideas/inspiration:

painting.

making your own clothes - sewing, knitting or crocheting.

gardening.

scrapbooking.

photography.

drawing.

writing - poetry, novels, articles or anything similar.

acting - helps with public speaking, confidence and making friends.

jewellery making.

chess or a similar intense mental game - cultivates your thinking skills and mind.

mind

finding a hobby that helps you mentally, especially if relevant to schoolwork or career plans is so helpful. mine is reading/engaging with literature as not only does it align with my academic work but also helps me with how i think, view the world and allows me to be more empathetic.

mindfulness/meditation.

learning to play an instrument.

writing/researching around your subjects.

budgeting - good way of keeping track of and understanding money even if you aren’t planning on doing anything economics based!

journalling or keeping a diary.

joining/starting a book club.

starting a studyblr, study youtube channel etc.

learning a new language.

tutoring someone - great way of helping yourself learn as well!

joining a debate team.

passions

finding a hobby around one of your passions is such a fun and unique way of engaging in things you enjoy. mine personally is visiting museums/areas of historical importance as i am so passionate about history.

visiting art galleries.

attending the theatre/cinema.

going to live music events.

visiting libraries/book shops - growing your wish list, finding new book inspo etc!

going to cooking classes, restaurants or cafes.

travelling to new areas (could be local or international) - perhaps to develop language skills, find places to hike etc.

attending lectures on subjects youre interested in.

watching documentaries or video essays.

starting a new course - i do several history courses, my most recent was on European empires!

making a blog, channel, instagram etc for a new hobby or interest.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ─────── thank you for reading angels! hopefully this will help us all on our hobby journeys and have given you ideas of hobbies to try or develop for the end of summer or just in general! love, m.

[highvern]

Whatever You Like

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: smut, fluff

warnings: sex tape, oral sex, dacryphilia, spitting, anal play, facial, praise kink, manhandling, unprotected sex/creampie, dom/brat dynamics (sir kink), sex toys, double penetration, spanking/clit slapping, dad cheol

Length: ~ 6.1k

Note: any complaints can be directed to @bitchlessdino for thinking cheol would be the type to film an amateur sex tape. ceremonial mention of @gyuswhore for beta reading and encouraging this tom foolery. also @wooahaeproductions and @millennial-fangirl t agging @wonustars @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for more fun

summary: Your husband takes his birthday more seriously than anyone you know. When he's scheduled for a business trip across the country, forcing you two to celebrate apart for the first time in your entire relationship, you decide to get creative with his gifts this year. Can be read as a stand alone or a continuation of Freak Like Me!

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“I hate it,” your husband announces before collapsing on top of you.

Seungcheol is always pouting about something. He’s dramatic by nature, a classic whiner. He does it for attention. Your attention. 

 It is a business trip out of the country for two weeks. He hates it because his birthday is in the middle of it. 

Since the dawn of your relationship, birthdays are spent naked in bed for hours followed by fancy dinners and gifts (despite your objection he’s all you need) and more domestic love making that left both of you sore for days. 

This will be the first birthday in eight years you’ll spend apart. And with how serious Seungcheol takes his birthday, it’s more devastating than the six months you spent long distance after college.

“I know, baby,” you coo. “We can celebrate when you get home though. Go to that steakhouse downtown you like.”

“But I want to spend it with you. I always spend it with you.” He shivers as you rake a hand through his hair, nails scratching just right to make him weak.

“One birthday isn’t gonna kill you. Promise.”

“You don’t know that. People die of broken hearts all the time.”

“Oh my god,” you snort. “I’m not leaving you, you’re going away for two weeks. On a promotion trip you begged for.”

“What if I became a trophy husband?”

“You’re too bougie for that. We’d end up homeless.”

All of his complaints prove he’s unaware of your scheming. The second he shared the news, you set to work.

The guest list for a surprise barbecue two days before he flies out is confirmed; custom cufflinks he’d been planning to buy himself tucked away under extra sheets in the guest room; white lingerie that’ll remind him of your wedding night already in the mail, set to arrive while he’s gone to enjoy upon return. 

But there’s one thing for him to take on his trip. A consolation prize for  missing each other on  one of the most important days of the year (tied with your birthday and just above your anniversary).

You’ve taken videos and pictures of yourself in varying states of ruin for Seungcheol’s enjoyment. He’s done the same. Flashes of his fist covered in cum in the dim light of his room back when you didn’t cohabitate. Videos of him jerking off, rambling about all the things he’d do to you.

He’s only ever admitted it once. A fantasy he keeps tucked away, bubbling just under the surface. It’d been almost two years ago when drunkenness threw inhibitions to the wind (along with the way his cock stretched your throat) that Seungcheol, without much thought to the matter, admitted how badly he wanted to film it. Film you, mouth full of him, cum spilling across your lips, eyes watering. 

Neither of you mentioned it again afterwards but the idea stayed firmly planted in your subconscious. 

And what better occasion to make your on screen debut than your husband’s birthday?

“I do have one idea…to make up for you being gone.” You say, smoothing down the back of his shirt. “For both of us, really.”

“And what is that Mrs. Choi?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” he huffs with amusement. “I can pencil that in.”

“I wasn’t done yet.” You force him off your chest into a cushion, taking over the prime real estate of his lap. “I want to make a sex tape.”

“What?”

“So you can watch it whenever you miss me during your trip.”

“Baby, you don’t have too—”

“I want to.” You nod. “Honestly more for me than you but I thought it’d be a nice birthday present.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm.”

“Shit, okay.” He takes a breath, calming down the need growing in his chest. “Tonight?”

“No, I’ve gotta get some stuff.” You kiss his neck just to tease him, chest to chest with a grind back into his crotch because he’s your husband and you can.

His chin tips back to give you space, fingers twitching at your waist thinking of all the possibilities. “What kind of stuff are we talking about?”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you.”

“But it’s for my birthday,” he argues.

“Perfect time for surprises then, isn’t it?” You hop off him and beeline for the shower, his footsteps barely a second behind.

Based on aesthetics alone, you’d pass for one of those amatuer porn couples; you wrapped in Seungcheol’s favorite pair of panties sans bra, him half naked with sweatpants low on his waist. A lamp casts the room in a dull warm glow that you hope will soften the unforgiving quality of the camera.

Seungcheol is meticulous. If he had it his way then the professional grade camera he got for Christmas would be catching every minute detail but you draw the line at feeling too much like a porn star. Instead it's a cheap tripod you ordered online hastily and his phone.

Watching him focus so intently gets you hot; the flex of muscles from his fingers to the bare skin of his chest, hair falling in his face as he balances it on the chair dragged in from the dining room. Your pulse races while you model on the bed for him; testing every angle and position he directs you into with heat in your gaze.

“We really should have done this sooner. Holy shit,” he mumbles.

“Looks good?” you ask over your shoulder, ass high in the air with a painful arch.

He grabs one of your cheeks with force, fingers digging into the curve and spreading you bare. “You look amazing.”

“Stop, you'll make me blush.” Empty words because you bend up at the waist, chest on show for later viewing.

“My wife asked me to film a porno for my birthday. I’ll say whatever I want, thank you very much.” He palms whatever he can reach, tweaking your nipples until they ache into peaks.

“Speaking of,” you sigh. “There’s a few more surprises, birthday boy.’

“Really?” 

Popping up, you plant a lazy kiss to his mouth, licking lewd intentions across his teeth. “In the top drawer of the dresser.”

Living alone means all the fun toys are kept in easy reach. The drawer is dedicated space for vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, paddles and whatever other random goodies collected over the years. So to have something not in your collection already makes him rush over to find out exactly what you’ve been so secretive about the past few days.

Seungcheol pulls out the silver bag, approaching the bed once again before separating the tissue paper to find what's inside.

“Are you serious?” he asks. 

Leather handcuffs dangle from his hold. Red with silver hardware. The kind with clips so he can tie you up anyway he wants. And maybe later, anyway you want to tie him up too.

“I am,” you smile, kissing across his chest. “There’s more in there.”

He digs back in, easily finding the slip of red silk.

“Babe…” he breaths. 

You kiss away his next words, soft and indulgent; a gross amount of tongue that comes with years of partnership. Both of you get lost in it, hands roaming, warming from the inside out. Seungcheol sucks on that spot below your jaw, a handful of ass threatening to distract you from the original purpose of tonight.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whisper pathetically only for him to hear, already forgetting the camera a few feet away.

Nostrils flaring, he watches as you mouth down his front. “You think I want to tie you up and blindfold you?” He’s cocky now; plain on his face how much the idea turns him on.

You slip to your knees on the floor, palm molded to his cock already plumping at the idea. “I think you wanna show me who is in charge.” 

Seungcheol sizes up your offer. The way you look up at him with an innocent expression like you aren’t mouthing over the tented crotch of his pants. “Then take my cock out like a good girl.”

You force his sweats down with eager glee as Seungcheol starts recording above. You're in your element between his thighs, a place you excel with minimal direction. With the ideas you’ve planted in his head, you won’t have to do much to get him off.

Gentle kisses along his thighs make his stomach dip. “Can I use my mouth?”

“Not yet.” Seungcheol shakes. “You’ll taste it plenty later. Use your hand.”

You rub his cock with a spit slick grip, mouth watering for the familiar flavor of his spend promised later. The tip of his cock shines in the low light. It’s quiet except for the dirty wet squelch and his already labored breath. You could get off to this alone. A hand between your thighs as you jerk him to completion until he paints your chest white. You suck your lip between your teeth at the thought.

“Look here.” He’s holding his phone near his chin, recording the crazed gleam in your eye. The blindfold rests in his other hand, forcing it into your empty one. “Put it on.”

An easy command leaving you riddled with anticipation. Without vision, there's no telling what his next move is. Giving Seungcheol the power to do whatever he pleases. Every time you’ve given him power, he’s made it worth your while and then some. Now won’t be different. He cups your face, thumb spreading your lips until you suck with a moan. And as quick as it came, the heat is gone.

It’s replaced by the prod of his cock against your cheek. He slaps it against your chin, a hot wet trail against the seam of your lips you eagerly lick away once he moves again. His dick rubs across your face lazily, degrading and dirty. Just how you like it.

You kiss whatever comes in reach; the vein webbing the underside, the head, his balls. Anything he’ll give you, you’ll take.

“Open your mouth.” Seungcheol taps it against your chin once again. He doesn’t let you suck him in immediately, giving you an inch before moving away only to repeat the motion over again. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do without hesitation, messy already. He forces the tip into the flat of it. A flood of his taste serving as a precursor until he gives you more.

You like to show off under normal circumstances and with a camera in the mix, you’re edged to the side of debauchery. Seungcheol’s cock is heavy on your tongue; an easy slide to the back of your throat with little resistance. You stroke him into your mouth, tongue lashing against the slit in the head. His thighs tense under your nails with a good choke before you pull off.

“Looks good?” You ask, hand replacing your mouth.

“Fucking perfect.” Seungcheol guides you back down with a hand on the crown of your head. With new leverage comes more thrusts but you take each in stride. Precum mixes with spit, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and down your chin. “God, so good to my cock. Feel so good like this.”

You make it sloppy, throat tightening in a loud gag. He hisses your name when you manage to take another inch from his praise. His weight sinks into your throat; holding there until you grow dizzy from lack of air. 

“Gonna cum,” he hisses. “Where do you want it?”

“On my face, come on my face.” You gasp for a quick breath before taking him again. 

He’s close, bucking into your mouth with renewed vigor from something so dirty. “Want me to cover your pretty face in my cum?”

The vibrations of your moan make his hips kick again. You bottom out with a choke, wet eyes hidden beneath silk. Another swallow, more tongue against the slit until he gives a shaky jerk.

“F-fuck, okay.” Seungcheol pulls himself away, fisting his length. “Stick out your tongue again. Shit, shit.”

He goes for show rather than convenience, painting your chin and cheeks in messy streaks. At least your eyes are safe from any errant drips. You suck him back in, tongue collecting whatever stuck to the head.

“Look so pretty like this,” he coos, slapping his cock against your tongue with the last few drips.

Years together means Seungcheol knows your game. In the distraction of getting him off, you snuck a hand between your legs, rutting against it pathetically. He let you get away with it far too long not to notice and now you’ll pay the price.

He kicks your thighs apart, leaving you without a hint of relief. A rough grip at the back of your neck pulls you away without warning. “You touch yourself when I tell you to. Got that?” 

Even with cum cooling on your skin, you still want more. “Sorry, sir.” 

A harsh exhale is all the warning you get before you're pulled to your feet. It doesn’t last long. Bent over the mattress, you're prone to a swift slap against the back of your thigh. Predictable. You know exactly what that word does to him; how it drives him up the wall. The last time you called him ‘sir’ he made you come so many times you couldn’t walk the next day.

“You’re gonna be,” he threatens with another swat before wrestling your wrists together at the dip of your spine. 

The cuffs link together easily. After testing their strength with a few gentle tugs, you’re left completely helpless to whatever your husband desires. Limp like a rag doll for his use. With the blindfold and the restraints, he’s got you at his mercy. It only drives you to act out more.

“Are you gonna spank me for being a bad girl, sir?” you goad, smile hidden in the sheets. A wiggle of your ass back into his hold to tease. You’re punished with another sting on the opposite thigh, then another and another. Each knots your stomach as you whine from the burn. The thought of the camera catching you, bent over, tied up, and covered in cum makes your insides warm with need. “That’s all you got?”

He answers with silence; a tense while he calculates. His hand squeezes across your heated skin, mindful of how much he gives you even when you challenge his authority like you weren’t asking for it.

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears. Cool air rushes against the seat of your ass. You brace for another slap, prepared for it on the round of your ass. But Seungcheol likes to keep you on your toes.

The impact stings your clit, thighs trembling because it hurts in the best way. His fingers stay flat to roughly work you into weak submission. You barely register the cold lube dripping between your cheeks to ease Seungcheol’s fingers easing at your entrance. 

“That's all you got?” he mocks. “I swear one of these days I’m gonna fuck your throat until you can’t talk back.”

Your breath hitches at he fucks you open with two fingers, an embarrassingly easy stretch. “Could do it right now.”

“I’ve got other plans.” He rubs your insides raw, the sick squelch ringing in your ears. A calculating curl forces a twitch into your legs. All your weak spots are his playthings, until your nails bite into the meat of your palm from how well he works them.

“Like?” Your breath hitches with the next rush of his fingers. Even more when he spits on your hole and rubs the stiffness of his dick into the mess just to be nasty.

“No point of the blindfold if I tell you everything anyway.” 

“Seungcheol.” You shudder as he wedges a third finger inside.

He’s on his knees, chest hot against the back of your thighs, peppering soft kisses across your ass like he’s apologizing for the brand of his hand you’ll certainly feel tomorrow. You reposition to take him; legs spread, thighs stained with arousal from anticipation. Palms push against your legs to stretch further and  give the camera a good view. 

The tear in your underwear gives him plenty of room to work with but he’s also a show off, putting all the muscles he’s worked so hard for to use by ripping the remaining lace clean off with rough enthusiasm. They fall slack around your knees.

“Wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks spread around my fingers.” 

“I will when I watch this while you're gone.”

“Gonna touch yourself to this? Seeing yourself get fucked?” His fingers hit that spot inside you. The one that punches air from your lungs and breaks you in half with limited coaxing.

“Yeah, might hu—shit—hump your pillow while I do it.”

Unlocking the cuffs, you sag in relief, straining muscles relaxing after being bound for so long. Seungcheol flips you on your back and locks them back in place over your stomach. 

“Fuck yourself on my face then. Show me how much you want it and I’ll let you come.” He bites, tongue flattening in time with the return of his fingers. The camera must be somewhere else. Probably back on the chair at the side of the bed. 

You do as he asks; feet planted on the bed as you curl into the pleasure, humping his face. A staccato lap of his tongue gets you started, wearing against the stiffness of your clit. You arch into it, unperturbed by the ache across your body. Seungcheol latches tight; sucking until your vision spots.

“Oh my god,” you hum; nerves fuzzy in your core from so much stimulation. He lets you grip a tight fist in his hair, keeping him still so you can ride his tongue. 

“Come for me. All over my face like a good girl. That’s what you are right?” His fingers hit deeper. Gives you as much as you can possibly take. “My good girl?”

“I am, I–fuck, fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Your orgasm rushes like a tsunami. It drowns you into utter silence, choked and shaking. You might fizzle away into nothing from the inside out. Seungcheol shoves your legs open to work you through it, dragging out every last inch until you kick at his stomach for a break. “Oh my god.”

“Good?” He smirks, chuckling when you jump at a cruel lick at your clit.

“Asshole,” you knee him in the side without much bite, focusing on catching your breath.

He sucks a bruise into your thigh because he can, pulling away to admire his work before speaking again. “Done or do you wanna keep going?” 

“Want you to fuck me,” you sigh. The emptiness consumes your brain, making you impatient for what happens next.

He licks his way up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth while the other grows sensitive between his fingers. “How?”

Drawn out from your previous orgasm, sink pliant into the cushion of the mattress. “However you want.”

“What if I wanna fuck you…right…here.” His thumb digs into your asshole, wet with spit and the obscene accumulation of your own arousal.

“Fuck, yes.” You nod pathetically. “Fuck my ass.”

The sick bastard laughs at your desperation like it's a cruel joke. “Not tonight. Maybe next time I’ll take a video of you taking my cock in your ass and one of your dildos in that tight little pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“You can fuck my pussy with both right now.”

“You’d want that?” His teeth bruise your nipple, hand dipping between your legs with no regard for your sensitivity. “God, you’re nasty.” 

“It'd be so hot,” you mumble. The jitters in your muscles haven’t faded yet you're already hungry for more. 

He leaves a kiss on your sternum before standing, footsteps padding against the floor towards the dresser. If he has any sense he’ll grab the one that perfectly resembles his cock. What once was a dirty gift exchange gag gift, now his favorite toy to watch you get off with.

“You sure?”

He’s sweet. But you don’t want him to be nice; you want him to dangle your pleasure in front of you and snatch it away when you get too close. “I’m pretty sure your phone is running out of space, so get to work big boy.”

When he comes back the blindfold is ripped away. Sweat beads on his forehead, hair wild, and skin pinked. Cock wet with a sticky mix of fluids, heavy against his thigh. He’s sexy like this. Based on how crazed he looks, you can only imagine yourself. And now you have it all caught on video.

“Hold this.” He shoves the phone into your grasp. “Film yourself getting fucked.”

The dildo is soaked in more lube; obscenely so. Enough to ruin the sheets and maybe the mattress but it looks good on the screen as he works it inside you until the base is flush with your pelvis. On the brink of breaking apart from just a clone of his dick, he fucks you nice and slow with it. A tedious grind into the heat of your core. Insides tightening but still missing something.

“What’s wrong baby?” he grins, fingers wedging inside around the edges. If you’re planning to take two cocks, he’ll make sure you’re prepped. “Tapping out on me already? Haven’t even put my cock in and you’re already whining.”

“Feels good.” You grit your teeth at his cockiness. This is for his birthday and if he wants you to be a pathetic mess for him, you indulge. “Fuck me harder with it.”

“Yeah? Imagine how it’ll feel when I fuck you with both. Stuffed until you can’t take it.”

“Kiss me,” you whine. You need something to distract from the visual of being split on two cocks before you explode. 

He does just that. A confusing mix of tender want compared to the vigor between your legs. Your hips grind on their own accord, tingling from his fingers torturing your clit in time.

“I love you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Fuck yourself on it. Show me how good you take it, yeah?”

You rock your hips into it the best you can, fumbling to keep his mouth firm against your own. A lazy rut but he won’t complain after all you’ve given him already.

The phone ends up back on the chair for now. Seungcheol doesn’t bother making sure either of you are in frame, trusting that whatever is getting caught will be hot enough even if it's just the sounds of fried vocal cords and the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Mmm, give it to me. Let me feel your fat cock inside me.”

“You’re so needy.” 

Your thighs begin to ache from being spread to accommodate him but it’s easily drowned out by the head of his cock breaching your entrance.

“Oh,” you gasp. It’s not something you’d ever be able to describe. A stretch bordering on pain but nothing more lube, Seungcheol’s patience, and some deep breathing can’t fix. 

“Does it hurt?”

“No, just…really full. Wow.” You breathe, the pressure in your gut limiting everything to just this. It’s not an easy slide like the dildo, it’s more than you’ve ever felt. “Go slow, I can take it.”

He sinks deeper, another inch before stopping and pulling back out; restricted ruts making your teeth clench. You need a distraction. Something to keep your attention away from how uncomfortable it is. You want nothing more than to be stuffed as far as you can take it, but getting there might take a while.

And because your husband can always manage to read your mind, he flattens to your chest, mouth meeting your own in a dirty kiss that makes you blush more than the two cocks wedged inside you. “Feel good for you?”

“Tight.” 

“I’m always tight,” you taunt.

“Tighter. Wet too, fuck,” he grunts. A kick of his hips you're woefully unprepared for knocks you out of orbit. “Look so pretty taking my cock like this. Stuffed so full. So fucking tight.”

A punch to the gut from how deep his voice sounds. Seungcheol is better at keeping up the facade of nonchalance than you but it’s betrayed in the detail: shaky hands, red ears, glazed eyes. 

“God, you’re so big. Feel like you’re gonna tear me in half.”

“Really know how to treat a man, don’t you?” he laughs, pained. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Thinking about what you said earlier. Fucking my ass and my pussy at the same time.”

“You’d like that?” Seungcheol pants driving a little bit deeper.

“Yeah.” You melt in his hold. His cock in your ass is a special treat you like to indulge in whenever possible. “We can film that too.”

He fucks you with calculated grinds; slow until you beg him not to be. This is for you as much as it is for him and Seungcheol will only enjoy it if you are too, even if his cock is being squeezed to death.

“Is it in all the way?”

“Not even close, babe.” He coos, a sticky lube covered thumb brushing your cheek. “Relax.”

“Take two dicks inside you and see how well you relax.”

“I’m not the cock champ here, am I?”

“Just touch me. Please.”  He skates that same hand between your legs, gentle circles on your nub while sinking deeper and deeper. Your stomach caves when he adds more pressure. “Fuck, right there.”

It’s the permission he needs to spread you prone, knees up to your chest to give you more. “Can you keep touching yourself for me? Play with that pretty little pussy for me?” 

“Yes, sir.” You rub weak circles on your clit, range of motion limited from the handcuffs. 

He abandons his grip on the silicon to twist your nipple. “Watch it.”

“Or what?”

“Say it again and I’ll make you ride this dildo while I fuck your mouth again.” He grunts, nudging your cervix to remind whose mercy you're under.

“But then you won’t get to see me take your hot load like a good girl.” You glow warmly with his choked expression. 

“G-good—god—what kind of good girl talks about having her pussy filled?”

“The kind that wants you to spit in her mouth,” you beg. 

“Then stick your tongue out.” He’s in a frenzy from how desperate you are. Thighs squeezing at the command, you do what he asks and are rewarded with the sick wet of his spit against the back of your throat.

You don’t get a chance to ask for another round. Seungcheol flips you on your front, face to face with the camera lens. Two of his fingers, the ones that taste like your cunt, hook into your mouth. Sucking them deep, you lap against them like their his cock; eager for the camera to catch the depraved need to be used that only he can inspire.

“Feels good?”

“So good,” you garble. “I love when you fuck me.”

“Yeah? Pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? All for me?” His voice jumps, cock twitching when you clench around him despite everything he’s giving you.

“All for you.”

“Gonna take my cum? Let me fill you up? That's what you want, don’t you? To be my pretty little cum dump?” He bites your ear lobe, fisting the hair at the crown of your head when you fall forward. “Look at the camera, baby.”

Wild jerks of his hips manage to force you to take him deeper, the head of his cock nestled further into your walls. All you can manage is a pathetic whine in answer to his questions. “Oh god, Seungcheol.”

He builds the pace, slow enough not to tear you in half but what he restrains in his rhythm he makes up for with harsh curls into the back of your throat. Each vein and ridge imprints into your core, more depravity. 

You can feel it, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your skull; the ebb of another orgasm. Seungcheol sinks the full weight of his hips inside you, taking the chance to fuck you with the dildo instead.

The comforter greets your face, Seungcheol abandoning his grip on your hair to land another round of punishing swats on your ass. It takes everything in you to keep your head up, for you both to play back later and see how nasty you are for each other. You want your husband to know what you look like when he fucks you in half, how your eyes water and lip threatens to split under the clamp of your teeth.

“Gonna cum,” he groans. His chest seals against your back, pathetic ruts into your stinging ass. It barely lasts. A ploy to grab the camera again for a cumshot. You let your face drop into the mattress, arching for the best view he’ll ever get. “Gonna ruin this pussy.” 

“Do it.” 

He removes the dildo, focusing on how you still manage to cling to his cock after being full for so long. It frees his hand to curl under your hip and pinch your clit until you scream. “Want you to come again. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” 

There’s no slow build. A sprint to the finish at the hands of your lover, you twitch in his hold, mind vacant except for what he asks. Nothing but the need to come on his cock. The wet echo of skin slapping as he fucks you harder now without the threat of breaking you. 

“I’m—close, fuck. Fuck!” You cry. Wetting his cock, you flail against the bed because Seungcheol is a cruel bastard that drags you so thin when you’re weak. A few more harsh drags on your clit, stomach sinking in half, and he’s letting you go. It’s weaker than the first but enough for Seungcheol to give in.

“Gonna cum for you,” he hisses, shivering. You milk him for all he’s worth. Taking the warm flood along your insides that keeps coming, each thrust gushing excess around the base of his cock. 

He pulls out and you nearly sob. It’s a vulnerable feeling to be empty after taking a beating to your pussy, one Seungcheol doeesn’t let you marinate in because he’s still filming. And that means playing with the mess of your cunt while giving the camera a front row seat. A few thrust of the dildo coated in a sheen of your insides and cum has him cursing like nothing hotter has ever existed. You feel open and used, messy. “Push it out for me.”

Whatever trickles out, he fucks right back in. The aftershocks of your second orgasm numb it all. Like you're underwater and Seungcheol is at the surface. Muffled.

“Oh my God, that was so…Holy shit.” He stops the recording and tosses his phone away. “You’re incredible.”

“If you’re trying to sweet talk me into another round, you need to do better.”

“I can’t come again if I tried.”

“Ouch,” you wince. “Hurtful.”

“Drama queen,” he laughs. The kisses up your spine make up for the dig.

You hum into the ticklish sensation. “You love it.”

“Of course I do, that’s why I married you.” 

“And here I thought it was for my incredible cooking.” You slouch into the pillows, body finally sputtering to a halt. “I feel gross.”

“Happens when you're covered in cum and take two cocks. Give me ten minutes and we’ll take a bath. The maintenance guy fixed the jets today.”

“Oh, baby.”

You and Seungcheol fall asleep five minutes later, your face in the pillows and Seungcheol’s lips at your shoulder.

“I’m under the big sign that says ‘Buses.’ Wait, I think I see you.” Seungcheol’s voice rings through the speaker as you scan the crowd

“Stick your hand up. Okay, now wave it in the air. No, bigger. Make a ‘Y’—”

“You’re so annoying,” he barks as he opens the passenger door.

You ease back into traffic, his hand clasped in yours over the center console. “I didn’t know having some harmless fun is a crime.” 

“It is when I’m tired and I missed you.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo sarcastically. “I missed you too.”

The drive home is peaceful. Seungcheol kept you updated during his trip and vice versa. Even getting in the door of the house is done in lazy silence, your husband refusing to let you go more than a few feet away before drawing you back into his hold. 

Tucked under the covers with your head on his chest, you crack; unable to keep his final birthday surprise a secret any longer.

“You know, I have one more gift for your birthday.”

“Baby, I love you but I can’t stay awake to fuck you. I promise I will in the morning.”

“Not that you perv. It's in the closet.”

“It can’t wait until morning?” he pleads, snuggling down to hide under your chin. 

“Nope.”

He gets up with a dramatic pout, shuffling to the closet for a gift wrapped boxed you’ve had hidden since his birthday.  “What is it?”

“Open it.”

He shreds through the paper, tossing aside the lid. Each second has you worrying your lip. It’s something you talked about extensively; in hypotheticals not realities. When you’d be ready. It’s why you bought this house, why Seungcheol’s car has a high safety rating. Something you’d both been clear about wanting since the very beginning.

There wasn’t an active effort but neither of you argued to use condoms again when your last pack of birth control ran out and the prescription went unfilled. You both carried on in silent agreement that whatever may happen will happen.

“Blueberries? You know we have a fridge to keep these in, right?”

“Fruit doesn’t belong in the fridge,” you shakily argue. “Now, read the note.”

“At seven weeks your baby is about the size of a blueberry. Baby Choi’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears are starting to look more—” he trails off, jaw slack. “Baby Choi?”

You burn under his gaze, shy like the first time he said I love you all those years ago. “Surprise?”

“Are you serious?” 

He drops the fruit when you nod, no doubt spilling the fruit everywhere in his haste to kiss you. It’s hard with both you beaming, cheeks round and burning. Kisses to your cheeks and chin and lips and nose like he can’t believe it’s a real thing. 

“I’m serious. Next week it’ll be the size of a grape and have fingers.” You pat your belly gently, his own hand caught under yours and snaking beneath your pajamas. “Weird to think about.”

“Oh my god.” He flushes. “How did you…?”

“Had a feeling while you were gone,” you admit. “On your birthday actually.”

“Really?” He’s staring at your stomach. You aren’t showing but since you’ve found out you can’t stop looking in the mirror for a change. That’s probably what he’s doing right now. Looking for those signs of proof that will start coming sooner than later.

“Yeah, I took like five tests in the grocery store bathroom to be sure.”

He doesn’t speak for a while, regarding you with silent awe. His cheek rests flat against your belly. There's a squeeze of your hand while his eyes sink shut to settle into the news. “We’re gonna be parents.”

“Yeah,” you smile. “My boobs are supposed to start getting bigger soon.”

“I thought something was different.”

“Probably the lack of sleep from your big ass baby.”

“Our big ass baby,” He corrects. “Is it too early to start decorating the spare room?” 

“It literally doesn’t even have a face right now.” 

Seungcheol kisses your navel, lips moving across the skin. “Your mommy is so mean to me. I think you’d be beautiful even if you don’t have a face.”

A week of knowledge, the initial anxiety you’d bottled up in effort to make sure he’s the first person you told (not including your gyno) starts to spill out.  “We can do this, right? You’re ready?”

His head pops up, eyes softening as he meets yours. “There is no one in the world I’d rather do this with.”

“Me either.”

“Best birthday present ever.”

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