#I also want to just pad it out with some fun nonsense to make it less obviously just a way to deliver cool stuff to my players | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heymeowmao · 5 days ago

Text

2024.12.14 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321325111562213130864

[t/n: quick(-ish) version! (there is no detailed ver for the foreseeable future.]

C: I won’t be discovered climbing the wall, will I? LYN: Whose walls are you climbing? Are you flipping the wall from here, or coming from someone else’s yeard to watch my stream and you feel like it’s betraying your idol? What do you mean “will I be discovered climbing the wall”? I don’t know if you’re trying to climb in or out? But its okay. It doesn’t matter. Even if you’re someone else’s fan and have come in to watch a while, that isn’t considered a betrayal. Think about it- you can’t always eat luxurious foods, sometimes you have to have some vegetables. You need to change it up sometimes. You can’t always just eat seafood and meats, right? You need your veggies. Have a balanced diet. C: Roughage. LYN: ! What do you mean by that? /I/ can say that I’m a simple vegetable, but /you/ can’t call me “roughage.” I can make fun of myself, but you can’t actively make fun of me- do you get it? Those are two different feelings.

C: Are you drinking red wine? You’re not afraid of getting drunk? LYN: It’s not red wine. I’d be reported if I were drinking on a livestream. Also, my tolerance is so low I’d be afraid to spew nonsense. I’d be done for. So it’s best to be strict about this. It’s coffee- the type that comes in a bottle. C: I thought you were drinking Chinese medicine. LYN: How much do you expect me to give, if I were already to the point where I have to rely on Chinese medicine in order to stream for you? That’d be too much. It’s not worth it. At that point do you think I’d force myself to stream instead of just taking a good rest? C: Injured with no hope of recovery. LYN: ! Can’t you wish for something good for me? It’s only just a cold, what do you mean “no hope of recovery”??

- compliments Shandong, because the people are all very nice and welcoming (even if they aren’t his fans); bc for example at other shows with multiple artists, the fans of each artist will pretty much stay unenthusiastic through the whole show until their artist shows up only.

- comments on the -3° degree weather (at the CCTV New Year’s Eve Gala) LYN: Usually when I’m at these events, they’re filmed indoors but this time it was outdoors. I was too careless. I thought there would be fans present- maybe if they knew I was at this program they would watch- so I wanted to dress a little more coolly. So I wore a long coat- my fans always tell me I look good in them. When I left home my assistants were asking me if I wanted to grab a padded jacket to wear and I insisted, “No! Bring my long coat.” I thought I would make a cool entrance. And then- later when I exited the hotel doors I was conformed. The cold blew straight through me. Whatever wool or dog fur- it doesn’t work. I got on the car and blasted the heater. I hadn’t even started yet and was already shivering. LYN: Later the program crew was very nice to me and gave my makeup artist (Xiao Q) one of their padded jackets, so they gave their jacket to me. Ah~ In the winter, it’s best to still wear down jackets, friends. Wear cotton padded jackets- it’s thicker and can withstand the wind and keep you warm. I know you see all the Korean oppas in the dramas wearing long coats during the winter- that’s purely for aesthetics. As for whether they’re cold or not, only the person wearing the coat knows. It’s winter, so wear the down jacket. LYN: I got through one rehearsal wearing the jacket and then later for the performance I powered my way through it in my suit. It was fine once I started singing. I didn’t feel the cold, probably because all my focus was on the music and I forgot about it. [t/n: Ning-ge nearly froze his ass off for this stage: 离太阳最近的光 (The Light Closest to the Sun)]

- coming to lyn’s stream to pray for good luck on your test probably isn’t going to do you any good, but he’ll wish you luck anyway C: Ning-ge, have you passed CSE Level 6? LYN: ?? Ive never heard someone curse me out so badly. I can’t believ your cursing doesn’t even have curse words in it. “Have you passed CSE Level 6?” I learned how to be a cook; I went to a technical school. Tell me, in what region is there a technical school that makes the students take the CSE Level 6?? Why didn’t I just take the IELTS?? I went to a technical school! I learned how to cook!! I took Level 6 test on Cooking! I have certifications! C: Being a cook doesn’t prevent you from taking the IELTS. LYN: Right- that comes from personal mental limitations though. How can you learn how to use a knife and also learn English at the same time? There’s only so much you can handle. If you focus your attention on one place, somewhere else is going to suffer. I you split your attention, it will effect both. While I was in school, I just focused on being a good cook.

- no dramas coming up, but you can watch his previous dramas one or twice through while waiting 🙂 LYN: No one’s asked me to sing OSTs lately, so I can’t recommend you any good dramas.

- won’t take off his glasses because they are actually covering up a blemish/injury on the corner of his eye. it hurts when he blinks. LYN: It’s fine. This happens to me a lot- I just tend to get mad easily (火大). I suffer from excessive internal heat (上火), I don’t know why. I have an affinity to fire.

C: Did you make any friends on Scream Night? LYN: /laughs/ We all know each other already, what friends are there to make? I mean, we’ve all seen each other before- in this industry we all bump into one another on occasion. We don’t need to go and make friends. Do you want me to go around saying, “Hello! Let’s be friends!”? Watching it you might think it’s full of celebrities, but for me- not saying that I am a celebrity, but I’ve been in this industry for 5-6 years already- I just think that celebrities are all normal regular people. I used to be in awe. For example, the first drama I shot was with HZT and I was nervous to meet him. I was afraid he would hit me. He has a pretty explosive personality, so I was afraid he would hit me. I wasn’t afraid I couldn’t beat him in a fight; I know he learned martial arts growing up but I wasn’t afraid I wouldn’t be able to beat him. I was just afraid of the notion: if he hit me, should I fight back or not? If I fight back, it would look really bad for the drama. If I don’t fight back I’d be a coward. So when meeting celebrities sometimes even I’m a little uneasy. You all know HZT is very… passionate. Very excitable. I was afraid he would hit me. I also am nervous when meeting celebrities for the first time. But as the years pass and you meet more and more people at some point you’ve met them all and you realize that they’re all just people. It’s no big deal.

C: Lao-da, why are you wearing the same clothes as me? LYN: What do you mean- are you also wearing this same hoodie? Just consider it as if I have a secret crush on you, okay? I purposely chose a special day to wear a couple outfit with you. You can think that if you want. As long as you’re happy. What do you mean “why are you wearing the same clothes as me”?? We just happened to buy the same piece of clothing, is all. LYN: How about this? After the stream is over today, I’ll raffle this off on my stream. I do my best not to wear the same thing as you anymore. As if you think I’m sentimental about it?? After today’s stream I’ll raffle and send it away- I’ll let another one of my fans wear matching clothes with you. - C: I want the original smell. LYN: I don’t smell! I wash my body, my head, and face! It doesn’t smell. At the most, it’ll smell like laundry detergent. “Original smell”?? What are you looking at all day long? What types of things are you purchasing online? “Original smell”?? This smells like Dongbei’s pickled cabbage. I smell like licorice root and bayberries.

C: Can you see where you’re walking in those glasses for Ultimate Note? LYN: Actually I couldn’t see. Those glasses are specially treated- it looks like shades but there’s a layer of black film on the inside. We were filming in underground passageways and caves and the lighting in these spaces is already dim so with the shades I couldn’t see anything. It was a strain on the eyes. It look a lot of effort to see anything clearly. Because it’s already dark, wearing shades, with another ayer of dark film on top of that. Why was the film needed? Because at some angles you would have been able to see my eyes and for that role you shouldn’t be able to. C: Then you didn’t need any eye makeup. LYN: Wow, that drama was so easygoing for me in comparison to other dramas, because I really didn’t need any makeup. Maybe just a darker yellowish base, and then I’d just put on the shades and start shooting. TXj was the same- I didn’t need much makeup. Some actors nowadays spend four hours in makeup- I don’t even know for what. Especially for guzhuang dramas. Men are okay, but some actresses spend four to five hours in makeup. That’s tough.

C: Lao-da, take the beanie off. LYN: Why should I listen to you? Are you my stylist? Why are you telling me how to wear my hat? It’s because I haven’t washed my hair- no- because it has no shape. I wore the hat to look more neat.

- chatting about concert logistics. technically, it’s simple. but the schedule and which stop comes first/later depends on the venue’s availability. - is afraid of not being able to sell tickets because people are giving him the misconception that he can easily sell out. LYN: I’m not looking down on you, I’m looking down on ME. You have to have self-awareness. The fault of man(kind) is to think too highly of themselves. Other people can think highly of you, but you can’t think that of yourself. The people who think that are fools.

C: Why are you wearing the same hat as me? Do you have a secret crush on me? LYN: You just keep thinking that. There are four words written across your face: Self-made Delusions & Fantasy

- if you can’t beat the scalpers for concert tickets, be sure not to buy from them so that they end up wasting their money. they’ll think that no one wants LYN’s concert tickets, so they’ll stop buying them. at that point, the fans can buy the tickets normally and go to the concert.

C: We’re just afraid that no one will attend your concert and you’d be sad. (reverse psychology) LYN: Thanks for thinking of me. You’re afraid that no one wants to come see my concert and that I’d be sad, therefore you’ll come to see me? First of all, thank you for taking pity on me. Thank you for considering my feelings. Secondly, can you not demoralize me so much?? I already said- /I/ can be humble, but you can’t make it seem like you’re forcing yourself just to see me. It’s like, “We’re just afraid no one will come to see you and you’ll cry, so we’ll come.” Thanks a lot. LYN: It’s true, though. I probably will cry and be sad if no one comes. Because I’m holding the concerts for YOU, not for ghosts. I’d be sad if the venue was empty and I was just performing for ghosts…

C: Why is there such a loud electrical sound? LYN: Is there? That’s the second comment I’ve seen on it. Is there an electrical sound? Maybe watch out, is your phone releasing it’s charge? Or- I know. When I’m letting the song play, the bass notes are pretty heavy so your headphones aren’t balanced and you hear a buzzing? It might be the song. /plays it/ Or your phone is releasing charge. C: I’m electrified by you. LYN: 去你的~ Don’t say such cheesy things.

- enjoys the fact that someone said they came to “attend” his stream, because that gives off more of a sense of participation, as opposed to “watch” his stream. Says it feels very formal, and he can imagine everyone in suits and dresses. - proceeds to describe accurately (C: have you installed security cams in my house?) how his fans would normally watch his stream- in pajamas yellowed with age. (C: Its yellow bc that’s your fan color. | LYN: What a romantic fellow~ Even when watching my stream, you’re wearing my fan color!) C: My face is yellow. LYN: Have you eaten too many tangerines?? C: My teeth are yellow. LYN: Brush your teeth. Use whitening toothpaste.

C: Can you talk about Macau? LYN: Do you mean Scream Night? It was... Normal? I often attend these types of events. What made it pretty special was that YNGS entered into the Hall of Fame. I only had three dramas last year, and YNGS took one of the spots, so… that’s a pretty happy thing. C: The stage performance was pretty unique as well. LYN: Of course, and I have to be thankful that they designed such a stage for me. It was meaningful- starting from me as a viewer, to a singer, to an actor, and who knows what will come after.

1:07:00 --- Break #1

LYN: I went to an event and I was playing with my beads, right? I started to see people criticize me for being pretentious. “Who else is playing with beads? The other artists are on their phones, and he’s over here playing with beads. How pretentious.” It’s my hobby D: But I think playing with beads is slightly better than playing on my phone. In my opinion. Just the slightest bit. From a sensory perspective. It’s not even like I’m being over the top and praying with it! It’s just in my hand!! C: Kill them all! LYN: No need, no need. My little killers, can you please control your emotions? You don’t need to be so fired up… like HZT. XD

- he’s trending at #20; starts reciting Weibo’s AI summary of himself. LYN: 38% happy, 28% peaceful, 11% like, 11% anticipation, what the heck is 10% doubtful/confused???, and there’s also 2% sorrow. Let me look into the detailed explanation for what the sorrow is about. Who’s in sorrow when watching my stream?? Is it the people who don’t like seeing me? // How can 2% of you be in sorrow/unhappy/depressed? Doctor! Doctor, get them checked out! LYN: This is so strange. I’m streaming but what are you sad for??? C: When you stop streaming we’re sad. LYN: I haven’t stopped streaming yet!

- “my mom says you look young” | LYN: What a good person. I’m sure Auntie is also very beautiful, because her heart is. - “my roommate says you’re so cool” | LYN: What a great roommate. They really have good taste. Get along well. - “my son wants to be as tall as you” | LYN: He can do it. Tell him to eat his meals and exercise, and he can be as tall as his Uncle Ning. - “my 5yo daughter is asking if you’re real or not” ; starts questioning why we can’t tell stories to children normally, and have to use all sorts of odd intonation instead. - “my little bro says he wants eyes like yours” | LYN: If your brother and I ever meet, we’ll be bros. If there’s a chance, let’s catch a bite to eat sometime. // He understands what’s really “good”. -- 你有一双会说话的眼睛 (Your Eyes Can Speak) [switches the lyrics from “you” to “me” for the first few lines] LYN: I borrowed this topic so I can sing a song. I felt like it’s about time for one, so I made use of the topic to do so.

C: I heard you learned how to dance. LYN: Who did you hear that from?? I didn’t. // I gave up on dancing. With some things you can try it and you can make an effort, but for other things there’s really no need. - C: Ning-ge, find a celebrity to connect with (on stream)! LYN: Why? Do you want me to use them for their popularity? - C: Because it looked like you had some decent moves yesterday. LYN: Oh, you saw me “dancing” a little while singing, and you thought that it looked decent, so were wondering if I took lessons? You’re too easy to fool! C: Your dancing looks like boxing. LYN: I’ll box you! I’ll hit you straight into the wall!

- there ARE plans for a KSTLB3, because the program has already asked about cast schedules. But it’s hard to tell when it will actually happen. LYN: I asked BY the other day when we were grabbing a meal together and he told me he’d like to come but he might not have the time. I told him to make the time if he could, because it’s fun for us to get together and play. We’ll see.

- it’s difficult to get a variety show going, let alone renewed. he first heard about Melody Journey about 3-4 years ago, but it only came to fruition in 2024. even sponsors have no money, so no one’s really investing in shows anymore. He was supposed to be a fixed guest but bc of scheduling reasons was only able to attend half the season.

C: Will there be a ZLYM2? LYN: It’s possible, but I won’t be in it because I’m already gone. The poison was too deep and I’m long gone. A season 2 is possible, but it won’t be me acting in it. I’ve already disappeared.

C: Are you in A Journey to Glow (Yi Nian Jiang Nan)? LYN: That has nothing to do with me. Ning Yuanzhou is long dead. C: Is it written following YNGS? LYN: I don’t know! Go ask the screenwriter. It has nothing to do with me.

- been thinking about what type of dramas he wants to act in; wants to try a modern crime/spy drama. does not want to act in a pure romance drama- there could be love in it, as long as that’s not all the drama’s about. maybe something with a superpower or special ability. or wuxia drama. - dramas (that already have a fixed ML) like to promote their show by first saying he LYN wil be the ML- so that people come in hoardes to curse him out but this also as the effect of getting the drama attention. then later the drama announces the real casting and people are ok with it “as long as it’s not LYN” :|

C: Go act as a student. LYN: You must be crazy. I can’t act as a student. Maybe a teacher- like a music teacher, or some little kid’s parent. A single father. He has a daughter and sends her to school everyday, but he’s actually an assassin. Kill them all! Every time he finishes a mission he writes “kill them all” on the wall. When hes done with his missions, he comes to pick his daughter up from school. One day he finishes a mission but finds that his daughter has been kidnapped, so the rest of the story is how he gets her back. But I can’t act as a student. LYN: In the process of saving his daughter, he develops feelings for her teacher. Because the drama can’t NOT have romance. So this teacher is a young and beautiful woman, and she is also anxious to find the daughter back. While finding his daughter together, they develop feelings for each other- because he’s a single father. In the end you find out that the teacher is a spy for the bad guys, but she’s already in love with the ML so in a critical moment, takes a bullet for the ML. In the end, because of love, she betrays her own boss. The ML emerges from the wreckage carrying his daughter, and that’s how the story ends. I want to act in a story like this. - he only says the FL dies bc his fans don’t want him to die anymore. so he coud only sacrifice the FL. X’D

- in modern dramas (like Cicada Girls) 80% of the clothes were his own bc he has a “unique physique” (legs too long) - hasn’t had time to look at scripts, but has recorded two OSTs; will look through and pick one for next year before doing more work on music - concert will be held in March or April, because venues weren’t available in February like he was intending

- tells people to again, be wary of scalpers and scams; don’t reveal any personal info or click on redirect links.

C: Ning-ge, can you give me a concert ticket? LYN: This is a difficult question to answer. Because if I say no, will you think I’m stingy? “You can’t even afford to give one fan a concert ticket? You’re such a big celebrity and they’re just a student who happened to like you. They don’t have the means to afford to buy a ticket to watch you in concert, is that so wrong? You still won’t give them one?” But if I say I’ll give you one, there are lots of others who will be unhappy. “In that case I want a free ticket, too. Give me one.” LYN: So, I can’t give you a ticket. Even if it ruins my image, the answer is still no. - he has no say over the tickets and other than requesting a batch to be reserved for media or collaborators, can’t just give tickets away to everyone C: In the end, you don’t have a ticket for yourself and you can’t get in. LYN: You can still get in with a staff pass. LYN: I, LYN, don’t need a ticket to get in. I- /I/ need to buy a ticket to get into LYN’s concert, too?? That’s too strict! But if I tell LYN to give me a ticket I think he’d be able to do it.

- brainstorming what type of merch should be offered at the concert (lightsticks, clothing, etc.) - C: Strawberries, LYN: ?_? No one sets up a fruit stand for their concert. - LYN: I think even a small doll is ok. Just something to use as a souvenir. You’ll look at it and remember that you bought it at the concert you went to one year. To use as a memory. - - don’t bring light-boards (there’s no need), cameras should be ok? Maybe?, you just need to bring yourself and have fun.

- trending at #18: “I won’t wear down coats!”; LYN: That’s no good, because what if a brand tries to come find me?? - 31% happy, 30% like, 13% peaceful (they don’t care either way?), 6% sorrow??? LYN: What does that mean? What are you sad for- you’d better be happy! At the very least, become at peace! LYN: I’m not that rebellious! I still wear down coats!! It was seriously too cold, so the whole way back I was searching on taobao- “down coat, male, long”. C: Did you find one? LYN: I didn’t. I couldn’t find a suitable one.

C: Since you’re not in a drama crew, stop losing weight. You can be healthier. LYN: Actually… there’s more pressure for not being in a crew. Because with these types of events, things are happening in real-time. If your not in the best shape today, people are going to know about it. Its not like with shooting dramas. You can be ugly when shooting a drama, but you’ll only find out one year later when the drama starts airing. But media coverage for any performance or event is immediately out there. You’re ugly in real-time. You have to be MORE AWARE of your own shape. C: But health is more important. LYN: I’m quite healthy, though? I’m not unhealthy.

- talking about the jianbing he ate this morning, and what it was filled with C: Don’t eat green onion! LYN: Why? Green onions are nice. It’s healthy. A jianbing wihtout green onion loses half its flavor. Maybe it’s because I’m from the Northeast, so I like green onion. You can’t tell me not to eat it just because you don’t like it. That’s selfish.

C: Can you stream from Mount Tai? LYN: I don’t know how good the internet connection is up there.

- talks about his beads, a little. it’s all about the process of change for the beads. strands can run from cheap to expensive- depends on preference. LYN: But don’t do something just because /I/ like it. Buy it only if you really like it, yourselves. // If you don’t like it, then there’s no need to force yourselves. Just play with something you do like. - likes wood products and gems, but not so much into crystals.

C: I really like gold, but I can’t afford it. LYN: It’s okay. You just can’t think so nengatively like “I can’t afford this or that.” As long as you work hard, one day you can buy anything. There’s nothing that you can’t afford; it’s whether you want to buy it or not. If you really want something, you’ll work hard to get it. You can’t afford gold? Not even 1g? It just depends on what you want. Let’s say for example you want a little bracelet- it’ll be 20-30grams, so 20-30k. Then make the money. Dont say that you can’t afford it. As long as you work hard and earn money, you can.

C: I can’t afford LYN. LYN: Other artists might be expensive, but I am very cheap/affordable. You can buy me, too. Let’s putit simply. A concert ticket can range from a hundred to thousand dollars. If you buy one, you can have me stand there and sing for you for two hours. It’s affordable, isn’t it? Every person has a price. Don’t assume that the artists in your eyes are expensive. We’re cheap. If you spend 888rmb (the cost of a mid-range ticket) you can have me obediently stand on a stage and sing for you for two hours. If I spend 20+rmb to get a platform membership, I can tell anyone to act for me. (by watching their drama) Why is it expensive? It’s cheap. LYN: The problem is with your perspective. //Really, don’t think too much of artists/celebrities. For 888rmb, I’ll obediently sing for three hours. I’d have to change outfits and sing with a smile. It’s great value! C: Do you change on stage? LYN: You only spent 888rmb, and you want me to change on stage?!? I can only show you the outer clothes, I can’t show you any underwear. I know I said artists were cheap, but they’re not as cheap as you’re thinking!! I’m guessing that as soon as I take just one thing off I’d be taken away by the police and you’d have spent 888rmb for nothing.

- thanks all the fans who have the means and can support when he has brand collabs (chunzhen, pomellato, etc.) - all seats in the concert are good, there is no “best view”.

C: This rich jiejie will invite you to eat noodles with her. LYN: What do you mean? Rich-jiejie wants me to eat ramen with her after the stream? Jiejie, I won’t be going. LYN: Friends, can we not discuss such adult things in my stream? It’s a little cruel and explicit. I’m not trying to pretend to be innocent/young, because I am this old after all. I’m not a child and I’m not trying to pretend I don’t know what you’re getting at. But let’s not discuss these topics because there are some 12-14 year olds in my stream. There are children watching. Okay? Can we talk about something more socially friendly? LYN: Nothing “netflix and chill”. This actually shows the cruelty of society, because it shows that in order for a young person to make it in this world, they have to give something. Even if that something is “time”.

- livestreaming is not allowed during the concert and if you see anyone streaming, hit them. XD Report them and security will escort them out. you can video-call a friend, but not start a livestream for the masses.

C: Ning-ge, I’ve been poisoned by Linlong Cave. I don’t have the antidote. LYN: Are you crazy? Are we cosplaying (role-playing), now? Should I play along or not? If I play along, I feel like that makes me look crazy, too. I don’t have the antidote, either. The character I played died. I don’t have it. Did you want me to play along? I kind of don’t dare to. It’s like you’re trying to coax a child. Either you’re crazy or you’re trying to coax a child. It’s like when we’re little and mom says, “The Big Bad Wolf is here. If you don’t stop crying, he’ll take you away.”

C: Do you know that every time you stop streaming I feel lost? LYN: I’m… happy to hear it. Like a distant friend who’s come to spend 2-3 hours with you, but you don’t know when you’ll meet next. But it’s the reluctance and anticipation for the next meeting that’s the most precious. What do you think? Each parting is so that we can have a better meeting the next time. LYN: But I can tell you a method for if you’re feeling lost after I stop streaming. That is, open weibo and select the “playback” function to watch the stream again. Maybe that will help. C: I’m very reluctant. LYN: ! I’m not leaving yet!

C: You can’t see me, Ning-ge! LYN: I can see you, but I can’t reply to each and every comment. Please be understanding, I can’t respond to you all. Also, many of you are Language Masters, and sometimes I don’t know how to communicate with you. You might think I’m quick but actually my “mouth is stupid”. Sometimes I just don’t know how to respond to you. Just like that person earlier who said “Ning-ge, I’ve been poisoned by Linlong Cave and I don’t have the antidote. Save me!” I just don’t know how to respond. // But I can see all that you’re typing and I know what you want to express. LYN: My mouth is stupid and I don’t know how to speal. My EQ is low, too. Please be understanding.

2:52:00 --- Break #2 (he just can’t find the words… XD) LYN: I’ll show you a performance from when I just debuted. 2018. Many of you missed seeing me at that time. Not that that’s something to be regretful for. I was just a fool, then. [t/n: I love this perf of 光年之外!!] LYN: Friends, we can do a reaction video. I really enjoy making those about my own performances. Do you want to? - ragging on himself for looks (down to the color of his foundation and his styling (or lack thereof), but praises and provides great analysis on his singing skills. Anti!LYN: I’ll criticize, because that’s how I get more channel traffic :)

C: We’ll pay you to speak well. LYN: Oh? We can go two versions- one paid (nice ver.) and one not paid (mean ver.). I can do both. + Anti!LYN: LYN obv looks like he hasn’t had professional training and in comparison to other artists, is clearly lacking. It’s a poor performance. As a singer with many years of experience myself, I’d call this performance a failure. // Look at this- a face so oily clearly does not respect the stage or the viewers. He’s not worthy to be called an artist. Also- look how swollen his face is. For an “artist” to be so ugly, do you think he’s even worthy of standing on this stage?? Do you want the viewers to suffer? // I can’t keep watching this. The reaction video ends here. This is a failure and I think that LYN is not qualified to be an artist. I hope he continues to work hard. I just want to say I’m a very objective person. I speak the truth, only. I only say it like it is. If you agree with me, you can subscribe for more of my videos. C: Now the paid version. LYN: Has a company paid me, now? Ok- let me check if I received the funds first. /checks his phone/ Ok, we’re good. + Pro!LYN: Let’s watch LYN’s performance. I know that he’s a rookie that just came out in 2018 and I’m quite interested in him because when I saw him streaming on the street I thought of him as resolved and hard-working. I’ve seen videos fans have sent in and he’s still streaming even when the weather is quite cold. It’s rare to see a person who is so determined to pursue a path in music. Let’s watch this performance together. // From these small movements on stage, he appears to have talent. For someone who- as far as I’m aware- has never been on a big stage before, I don’t know if you can see it, but he’s relaxed. As if he’s in his natural element. He already looks like an established artist. Even though his appearance may not be what we expect, he has confidence. Only someone who’s had multiple performances and experience gained through repetition can pull off this relaxed feeling. Let’s continue. // Look at this- the audience is with him. Even though I wasn’t there, you can tell from the reaction of the audience that he’s got control of the whole venue. He’s very relaxed- what does that mean? That he’s invested in the music already and therefore at ease. The audience can see this and are also swept up in it. This is a surprise. You can’t tell that he’s only just debuted. // He has the capability to be a superstar. // This performance is perfection and a surprise. I can’t believe a kid who’s just debuted can perform like this. It feels right. The hardest thing is that I’m able to see uniqueness. You’ve never seen anyone else like him. (etc, etc.) LYN: Honestly these streamers… if they want to speak well or ill of you, they’ll find a way.

C: Can we see his acting? LYN: You want me to react to his acting?? That’s maybe betting too much. // But I think it would be a lot more fun, because there’s so much more to say.

- something abt Daimi that he didn’t see clearly, but will circle back around to it - it took him 3 months to change the color on the beads in his hand - 2nd album will have a limited physical release- to have as a keepsake

C: Ning-ge, I’ll give you 100rmb to lull me to sleep. LYN: 100rmb to lull you to sleep? You must be rich. Your expenses are so high that you’d spend 100rmb to find someone to make you sleep? You must be a rich second-gen! Are you someone with a rich family?? 100rmb to lull you to sleep… C: It’s a lot because you’re expensive! LYN: Why does that make me feel worse?? I’m “expensive” but I only get paid 100rmb?? // Based on how you speak I’m guessing you might be a primary schooler. You’re young. Either that or you must not have a high IQ. Spend 100rmb to lull you to sleep? You can’t just waste money like that! No matter how much money you or your family has, this is not the right way to spend it. Also- money can’t solve everything in this world, and if it can then it wasn’t a serious matter to begin with. You’re trying to buy me with 100rmb to lull you to sleep? You must be crazy.

- thanks people who think he looks cool walking the red carpet, but also likens it to a mother doting on her foolish child (no matter how terrible the kid actually is) LYN: Honestly it’s been a long time since I last walked a red carpet. This time I didn’t have much going on and I arrived in Macau early, so I decided to walk it. Most of the time when I have performances, I’m afraid it will delay my performance- because I’m very nervous before I sing. I’ve been on a lot of stages, but I still get nervous every time. For these types of events I always sing at least one or two, to share fortune. But this time my performance was nearer to the end- it was the last song. So I decided to walk the red carpet. LYN: My studio came and asked me, “Boss, do you want to reconsider?” I questioned, “What do you mean??” It’s bc ZLYM just finished airing and I was already being called ugly for it, so if I walked on the red carpet and the media took a bunch of raw photos of me I’d be setting myself up to be called ugly again. “What would we do? We’re afraid of losing our jobs.” XD I told them, “If you really cared so much about what other people think, then you won’t accomplish anything.” My work ethic is: I just want to be able to do whatever I feel like doing. I’m not doing anything illegal. I don’t care what other people think of me. So I told them, “I know you’re saying this because it’s what’s best for me, but… I am also worried about it. But not to worry, this time, I will prepare.” - applied face and eye masks for the three days leading up to the event, woke up one hour early and took a hot bath to reduce water swelling (sweat it out), took a guasha to his face and neck LYN: I asked my makeup artist, “What do you think? I’m not that swollen today, am I?” They said “You still are, a little. It looks like you just woke up.” I replied, “There’s no helping it. Let’s just do it.” - still agonizing over whether to walk it or not, 15 minutes before leaving the hotel room. - ended up walking the red carpet, bc he wanted to represent YNGS. - this is why he likes shootng night scenes, because he looks thinner at night. morning or daytime scenes, he looks swollen.

C: What did you talk about with Zhang Songwen-laoshi? LYN: He said, “LYN, you look too swollen.” LYN: That’s a joke! Don’t take it seriously. If you take it seriously, you lose.

- greets all his foreign fans, bc they’re typing in the comments LYN: I think in a few days I’ll sing this song- (Blue Bird) // I’ll be collaborating with someone on it. I hope you look forward to it! :)

C: You owe me a song from CMF. LYN: I OWE you? I don’t remember how that happened, but I’ll sing it next time. I’m here streaming and you’ve come to collect on my debts, now?? It was free to begin with. It cost money, time, and effort. And /I/ owe /YOU/? C: Love is always feeling indebted to one another. LYN: Now you’re telling me it’s out of love???

C: My niece is here to hate on you. LYN: What did I do to her?? Smack her for me, while her back is turned. Hate on me???

C: I broke my foot, can you comfort me? LYN: Okay, I saw you. You’ve been spamming that all night. You’re the type who’s attention-seeking. You think breaking your foot is a good thing? Is that something to be happy about? Fine. I hope you recover quickly. It's quite a painful thing, to break a bone. I forgot where you said you broke already- foot or leg? Anyway, wish you a quick recovery. Don’t move around and make sure it’s well-healed otherwise it’ll bring you more discomfort in the future. Sometimes my foot where I broke it still hurts. :( I don’t know if that’s psychological, or what.

C: Did you make a mistake singing 奉上 on Scream Night? LYN: I repeated myself for a line in the beginning, you mean? Was that a mistake? - getting defensive X’D (it was a mistake- a result of muscle memory) LYN: I did sing too early. What about it? As long as I don’t admit it, it’s fine. C: I thought it was a mistake at first, then I wondered if it was designed that way. LYN: It was designed that way. :) I was just proving that I was singing live. C: Was it necessary? LYN: What do you care?!? It’s my performance, so my design. Whether it’s necessary or not was my call, not yours. I think it was VERY necessary!

LYN: What about it??? - proving that he could adlib the beginning of (nearly) any song without it looking like a “mistake” LYN: (narrating) Truth be told, I was a little flustered. As soon as I started singing along to the opening notes, I thought in my mind, “Oh, damn it! Why did I sing it out loud?? How strange! What do I do?” But I quickly adjusted my composure and started to act. Then, I sang normally. It matters not. I’ll just pretend it didn’t happen. LYN: You definitely cannot start scaring oneself. (“自己吓自己” is a dubbing meme)

C: Will you gift an autograph at your concert? LYN: No. I wouldn’t be able to sign so many. If one stop is 10k seats, there’d be at least 7-8k in attendance. If I sign 7-8k autographs… there’s really NO NEED. I’d die trying to sign them all. LYN: Let’s do a reverse fan-support. When you come to my concert, bring me your signed autographs. That’d be fun. Usually it’s you who want your idol’s autograph. This time, bring yours to my concert and you can drop them off in a box for me. C: Do you want a “to:”? LYN: Okay. C: Don’t burn them. LYN: >:] Burn them all! // No, I wouldn’t! I’d store them away.

C: I’m finally seeing your stream with my own eyes. LYN: ! You all sure have a talent for language, but I’m not sure if “seeing with my own eyes” is a phrase to be used in this context? It’s sort of honorable but also sort of strange. Isn’t it usually followed with- “I saw with my own eyes all the crimes he committed!!” It kind of feels like that. - plays around with the word “witness” because it’s similar

LYN: Friends, it’s about time. I you have not subscribed to my weibo, please do so; you’ll be notified the next time I stream. I want to thank you for witnessing my stream today with your own eyes. I saw the time and realized I’ve been streaming for almost four hours. That’s a lot, but time passes quickly! Somehow it’s already been four hours. I’m happy, though! I hope that when I stop streaming those people who might have been feeling a little lost are not lost anymore. You can wash up and have a good sleep. If you still feel down, you can watch my stream again. LYN: I hope you had a relaxing, happy, and wonderful night. It was great to have you and I hope you had fun. Let's meet again in the next stream, friends! I’m sure sorrow will rise to 10%. 31% happy, 11% peaceful. 30% sorrow. Bye bye everyone. Good night!

#Liu Yuning #lyn livestream #(3:55:09)#(quick ver)

14 notes · View notes

baby--charchar · 11 months ago

Text

Rhea

(Hazbin Hotel OC/Parame)

I finally made a character sheet up for Rhea~! She's very dear to me, and this helped me really flesh her out within my paracosm.

Her Details:

Rhea is both autistic and Deaf with moderate hearing loss; some sounds are meaningful for her (such as the sound of Vaggie's voice when she's sitting beside her), but her native language is American Sign Language and she is by all means a visual learner/communicator. Functionally, she is nonverbal because few people in Hell know ASL, and there's just no culture of people wanting to better themselves by learning something new (Charlie will change that). She does have communication cards, gestures, and tantrums/meltdowns to let others know what she needs.

She is an age regressor/has a "mental age" that is triggered when she is stressed or scared, usually putting her at 4-5.

Rhea's household never learned ASL, and sent her to a residential school for the Deaf from a very young age. It was a mediocre place, but she had community there. She avoided going home for the summers at all costs.

She is an AVID SWIMMER. Her school was situated in a small beach town, and she spent any warm-ish day out on the water.

She died by suicide, making sure she was in the water. Home. Hence, her regeneration in hell as a fish demon.

She appeared in the pool of the hotel at dawn, alone, naked, and feeling numb. She stayed there in a stupor until Vaggie discovered her. Naturally, like a baby bird, the first person she saw = mama.

Vaggie bonded back quickly. Some of it was pity; this new sinner at their hotel had a really fucked up backstory. Some of it was necessity because this girl could go totally out of control on her worst days, and Vaggie's strength/directness really helped her settle down. But at the heart of it, she's totally charmed by Rhea and thinks she's a sweetheart.

Of COURSE Vaggie and Charlie are trying to learn sign language! It did require smuggling some books and DVDs in from the human realm. Self teaching is hard, but it works.

They already have a few signs that are very helpful, especially when Rhea's regressed: yes/no, stop, help, eat, sleep, sad, and hug. The last one they always use when she's upset. Cuddles are very calming.

Vaggie calls her "cariña" (dear) and mi amor. Occasionally she'll use "Reina" (Queen) sarcastically when Rhea's in a bratty mood.

Rhea can be very volatile. Her aquakenesis means that when she's having a meltdown by the pool, she can make tidal waves so large and powerful they could shatter the glass windows, and all the meanwhile she's screaming and sobbing her lungs out. Vaggie's had to brave this storm twice and drag her out of there sopping wet. It was not fun. Occasionally she bites herself or hits/kicks others, but this is more manageable.

Rhea is an involuntary permaregressor since landing in Hell. She has typical intellect, but her regression causes her very low social/emotional development. She's very cuddly, affectionate, and sweet, however, she is prone to very severe tantrums and meltdowns. She can also be very attention-seeky, and likes being "the baby" of a group.

She has a favorite sippy cup, loves her sensory swing in her room, and has a beloved stuffed orca that Vaggie gifted her. She's also a frequent wetter/comfort voider, so she needs to stay padded.

Vaggie is a no-nonsense caregiver. She is super strict about wake up/bed times, eating meals, taking care of her hair, and behavior. Rhea likes to push Charlie's and Lucifer's buttons when she's feeling bratty, but that's just not gonna happen with Vaggie. If she hears Rhea acting up in the other room, she walks over, STARES HER DOWN WITH THE MEANEST MAMA BEAR LOOK, then signs "...NO." Rhea immediately gets her act together.

Rhea is also bioluminescent!!! She glows softly at night! Vaggie thinks it's very beautiful.

#hazbin hotel age regression #hazbin hotel agere #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel original character #maladapting daydreaming disorder #madd #maladaptive daydreaming #cg!vaggie #sfw age regression #sfw agere #rhea

26 notes · View notes

threewaysdivided · 10 months ago

Text

Putting my new digital-art setup through its paces with a full-render of Morenthal (played by the delightful @gamblord) from @causeimdanjones DnD 5e stream Dan Jones & Dragons. In his fancy Gala dress from Session 24 & Session 25.

More Flower Crowns Gala Outfits: Gelnek | Hobson

Extra design notes under the cut:

Since Morenthal picked his dress with the explicit intent of smuggling tools and weapons past security at the ball, I thought it would be a fun exercise to design an entire ensemble with Rogue utility in mind.

I really like the design that Dan and Gamb came up with for Morenthal's official stream portrait, so my interpretation was mostly just additions and minor tweaks to what they gave us.

His dress-bodice comes almost directly from the stream art, with a little extra padding for insurance this lad gets stabbed a worrying amount. I wanted to change the pattern on the fabric to something with Wolfsbane blooms (his official garland-flower) in it but I couldn't figure out anything I liked, so I ended up using Gamb's dress-inspo picture as a starting point and colour-picked the purple palette from the Wolfsbane garland on his main portrait instead. It took me the entire Session 25 stream to render this top. Never again.

Since I wanted the dress to suit Morenthal's andro-masc bodyshape, and also be a little restrained to suit his role on Team Infiltration I decided to make the torso the feature piece and pair it with a flowy straight-skirt without many ostentatious frills or ruffles. As he was going to end up sneaking around (and maybe fighting), I tried to make the skirt exactly floor-length so that he would be at less risk of it catching on things, being stepped on or being used to tangle/pin his legs.

The long black gloves were partly inspired by @jaxpool's excellent costume sketches from Session 24. Since Morenthal planned on doing rogue nonsense, the name of the game was hiding things, so I adjusted them to let him smuggle lockpicks around without restricting the movement in his fingers. I also added matching black boots for even more hiding spaces, while designing a heel that he could still run, jump, climb and fight in. After Gamb said that Morenthal brought Little Guy's whistle with him, I figured Little Guy himself had to be tagging along somewhere. Drawing him hanging out in Morenthal's boot brought me an unreasonable amount of delight.

The gold earring is 100% straight from the design Gamb and Dan created. Since that set gold as his accessory colour, I added matching gold buckles to the boots and gloves. (That also let me add wrist/ankle straps for a more secure fit, which was on-theme for the form/fuction design sense).

The gold eyeshadow was one of my additions. Morenthal is pretty comfortable bucking gender conventions (Jax also gave him makeup in their version, and this is not the first time he's hopped into a dress on-stream) and I wanted to give him a little bit of face-glitz to continue the gold theme. Originally I experimented with some subtle eyeliner on his lower lids but that ended up closing off his eyes and really aging his face, so I changed gears and went with a shimmery upper-lid shadow instead. I think it looks pretty nice on him.

#me shamelessly aping Dan J's Morenthal designs #threw some gold eyeshadow on the lad because he's had a hard life and deserves to feel pretty sometimes #I have no idea where Morenthal actually hid Little Guy but in my heart they were hanging out in his boot #Dan Jones and Dragons #DJ&D #The Flower Crowns of E'lythia #A Party to Forget #Morenthal #Morenthal (Wolfsbane)#drow #d&d #my art #fanart #3WD

6 notes · View notes

haveyoueverplayed · 1 year ago

Text

We Finished Grandia!

Jellybi Final Impressions:

I give this game a resounding “...uhm.” I can see it having been a great time for a much younger version of myself, maybe like 12-16 or so – teen Jellybi was a big fan of Bishounen Villains Who Do Face Turns and would have greatly enjoyed Mullen’s arc regardless of the general lack of buildup or plot scaffolding around it. But the rest of the story, um... left a lot to be desired.

I felt like the end of the game kept harkening back to a lot of themes and elements that simply hadn’t been properly established, like the greed and folly of humans and their rift with the spirits that resulted from that. If that was set up anywhere, it never really registered or sank in for me, but they kept harping on it like it was a major throughline of the story. They had 40 hours of gameplay to set that stuff up! But outside of exposition dumps, it didn’t seem to really be there. Did we ever meet any spirits or learn a concrete thing that humans did wrong to prove themselves unworthy? If we did, I must have missed it, I guess.

The biggest issue I had with the game, though, was the Justin/Feena pairing, in which she is handed some sort of idiot stick that turns her into a fawning damsel, and the broader way in which building Justin up as a hero seemed to happen at the expense of the other characters. It didn’t feel like he ever actually grew or learned anything, but rather that everyone around him just started stanning him and acting like he was an amazing hero and the only one capable of taking any actions that mattered to the world.

This was at its worst when Gadwin joined the party and seemed unaware that Feena or Sue existed and kept crediting the party’s victories to Justin exclusively and proclaiming Justin a “real man” every ten seconds, but seemed to carry through with Feena’s crush on Justin making her extremely um, deferential to him out of nowhere. Writing Sue out also felt abrupt and cynical, like they needed to ‘get her out of the way’ for this bad pairing to flourish.

Overall this stuff left a bad taste in my mouth that made it hard to enjoy the rest of the game, though it remained aesthetically appealing and fun to play with the ever-present promise of unlocking new, more ridiculous magics around every corner. Also, Liete was a delight and the things I liked about her remained relatively untouched by any of the Weird Justin Hero Vortex nonsense.

GRANDIA 1: Jellybi’s Final Ratings:

Art rating: 4/5: I continued to love the character art throughout the game, and it kept serving up really nice, quasi cinematic sprite animations during key moments. Great enemy designs too for the most part. I wasn’t quite as... impressed by the sprites for the final boss battle sequence as I was expecting, but I liked the candy-colored wires or veins or whatever the first form of Gaia had going on.

Battles rating: 4/5: Loved the battles. I think that if the game had had better music and sound design, these would have been some of my favorite RPG battles ever. (The voice acting around spellcasting and stuff was great, but the music was meh and the enemies often made annoying, repetitive noises). I think I did have a little bit of FOMO in the end that the spell discovery system was kind of opaque so it was hard to know if you had unlocked everything or how to get the ones you might have missed, though it’s possible some googling could have resolved this question, I was just too wary of spoilers to try.

Mechanics rating: 2/5: Exploring, though, was not fun, and the game seemed padded out with tons of unnecessary dungeons that were essentially just transitional locations between cities and wherever you actually wanted to be going. The way the camera and “compass” worked did not really help with navigating the landscape, and there were a lot of navigation-based puzzles that were difficult because of poor game design rather than fun and enriching to resolve.

I think I ended up giving the controller to Tex probably like 75% of the time because I just didn’t want to be Lost in Monster Infested Environments for the amount of time the game wanted me to be. The 3D world seemed kind of half-finished, and interaction with basic objects like “ropes you need to climb” often felt like they just barely worked and required a lot of trial and error to figure out if the object was interactable or not.

Story rating: 2/5: I really ... didn’t like the story in the end. I felt like I spent about 30 hours waiting for the story to begin, and then when it finally did, everyone acted like An Epic and Satisfying Plot had already happened and was time to wrap everything up in a tidy, unearned bow. It’s certainly possible for me to like a story LESS (Grandia 2 is a good example), but it felt like nothing really got set up properly despite ample time to do so, and the majority of the runtime was wasted on random puttering around the world doing what felt like sidequests.

Why was there no followup on Sue having a mysterious monster pet? Why was Feena a Secret Icarian when, compared to Sue (the mysterious orphan with an unexplained monster pet), there was nothing particularly mysterious or odd about her past? What does it mean to be a Secret Icarian in this society, anyway? Why didn’t we find out what the Evil Army was trying to do until three seconds before Mullen found out it had been a lie and needed to change sides? Did Rapp accidentally kill his parents by polishing their limbs off while they were stone before everyone got un-petrified? Did we ever actually find out what happened to Justin's dad and why he had the spirit stone in the first place to give him? There were so many missed opportunities in the plot!

Vibes Rating: 4/5: Despite it all, this game gave me happy RPG feelings to play! Again, if I were younger, and either more into the story to hang on every scrap of exposition detail or more inclined to fill in the holes with my own imagination, I probably would have loved it a lot more.

#grandia

7 notes · View notes

consumeronionbulletin · 2 years ago

Text

Call It Love (2023)

When is a revenge story not a revenge story? When you Call It Love instead!

This show could have turned into a trainwreck at several points. Instead, it managed to surprise and (occasionally) delight. While I had some quibbles with the ending, I think it's good to focus the show's strengths.

What Worked

The characters are what made the show. Even when the plot meandered a bit, and the pacing slowed down, the characters pulled you through. Because they were relatable and interesting. Even when they made questionable choices, they were always the choices you might have wanted to make in the situation, even if you knew better.

That comes through in the first few episodes where the FL crashes her estranged father's funeral and makes a scene just to try and get some kind of revenge. And the ML takes money from his estranged mother even though he knows he shouldn't. And the entire family just decides to leave their home of twenty years rather than calling a dang lawyer to figure this out. And let's not even talk about the ex-girlfriend who decides to try and patch things up with her old flame by secretly moving in next door...

What Didn't Work

The last three or four episodes just didn't have enough story going on. And so the audience ended up watching the characters walk artistically through the streets of their neighborhood while we waited for them to do the thing we all know they're going to do. I would honestly rather they have showed the characters discussing and reacting to finding the will—or just talking at all—instead of padding each episode with 10 minutes of walking. I also got annoyed with the way they dragged the main love story out in the last two episodes. I can understand needing space to figure out some of the messed up stuff going on, but there was no reason for them to (spoilers) need to take an entire year off to figure this stuff out! I think the writers just had the last scene in mind and pushed the ending towards it instead of justifying it.

Lastly, Disney FFS get some real subtitles, I'm glad they have close captioning (in English no less), but they need an option that cuts out the [Dongjin smacks his lips] nonsense. Was it a push to make people listen to the dubs instead? Are they just too cheap to pay someone to do both? Who knows. Also, I think the translators did an okay job, but there were times when I was like "that's not what they really said, was it?" and I don't even know much Korean.

The Performances

The writing on this show is a little sparse. The writers chose to make people talk like real people most of the time, which means that so much of the characterization is on the actors and their delivery. And they did a good job across the board.

Kim Young-kwang as Han Dong-jin. Dong-jin is a very private, internalizing person and it would easy for an actor to play him too stiff and stoic. Kim Young-kwang did a very good job of letting people see inside what he was thinking and feeling mostly through subtle gestures and changes in tone. He wasn't magnetic like alot of other leads, but he still had a way of bringing people in and quietly getting their attention. At least he did for me, though maybe there were other people who got bored and stopped watching after a few episodes!

Lee Sung-kyung as Shim Woo-joo. Woo-joo was another quiet person, though she's someone who is quietly angry at the world and sometimes has no filter. She did a great job portraying this through most of the series. I think she had trouble with some of the softer scenes towards the end of the series. I haven't seen her in other shows, so I can't tell if it was a direction problem or if she just didn't know how to portray someone who is loose and comfortable, but there were several scenes when it felt like I was watching a statue. I'll still enjoy watching her next project, whenever that comes out.

Sung Joon as Yoon-jun. This was a case where the second lead couple was more fun to watch than the first lead, and Sung Joon's performance was a big reason why. When the show was at its most melodramatic, Yoon-jun just took it in stride and kept it all grounded. I especially enjoyed the way he and the second lead Kim Ye-won played off their slow moving friends-to-lovers arc, but the friendship with Shim Woo-joo was also nice, and I loved to see that kind of non-romantic friendship portrayed in a show.

Kim Ye-won as Shim Hye-seong. I enjoyed her role in Suspicious Partner even though the show annoyed me overall. She was a much more relatable character here. I looked forward to her scenes because you could never tell what Hye-seong was going to do. The character was interesting and multi-faceted and Kim Ye-won did a good job bringing that through.

Nam Gi-ae as Ma Hee-ja (aka the "Evil Mom"). I've seen her in a number of similar roles and this isn't too different from her character in Encounter (for example), but I feel like she got it right this time, where she was too over-the-top in others. I think the writing helped, but ultimately it's her performance. She did an excellent job portraying a believable type of narcissist. She was completely shameless and selfish when she needed to be, and also weak and pathetic when she needed to be. Sometimes she was only in the show for a few minutes, but it felt like a long time because she was so intense and interesting. Great job playing a terrible person.

Kim Hee-jung as Kim Hyun-Joo (aka the "Good Mom"). I saw her briefly in Start-up and her role there wasn't very memorable, but she did a great job here. The main characters all spent the first eight episodes or more threatening to call her in when they felt Woo-joo was out of line, and when Hyun-joo finally showed up you could see why they were all intimidated! A strong presence and definitely one of my favorite characters on the show.

Jang Sung-Bum as Sim Ji-Gu. I really liked the character. The long suffering younger son with two older sisters is kind of a comic staple in these dramas, but he still managed to make the role fun and interesting rather than cliche. He also did a good job with the musical interludes, though that was another part of the show that felt a little indulgent. Still a fun actor to watch.

Ahn Hee-yeon (aka Hani) as Kang Min-yeong. In a different show, the "clingy ex-girlfriend" character could be a second antagonist, but the problem is that she's pretty great and everyone likes her! That's what happens when you cast a k-pop singer and just let her be charming! Hee-yeon wasn't a show stopper, but she did a good job with the role she was given, and I liked where the writers took her character. It was nice to see a story where sometimes decent people end up making terrible decisions (for reasons that make sense), and it's how you move forward that matters. There really wasn't much for the actor to do in the last 4 episodes, but it was nice to have her around for most of the show.

Jun Suk-Ho as Choi Sun-Woo (aka "Lazy Boss"). I enjoyed this character and the actor was obviously having alot of fun with the role. It was nice to see the character go from being part of the problem at the start of the series, to being a strong and supportive character by the end. I also liked his friendship (though maybe more?) with Min-yeong and how that changed over the series as well.

Kim Mi-Hwa as Sim Woo's Aunt. They didn't even give her a name! Just a fun comic character that I would have liked to see more of. The actor did a good job giving a personality to someone whose role in the show was mostly to deliver important news to the main characters.

Everyone else. They actually did a good job making the corporate backstabbing interesting. The actors playing CEO Shin, Cha Young-min, and all the minions were suitably slimy. The other office workers had memorable moments even when they kind of blended together. I even thought the other colorful characters (like the new "Bad Boyfriend with a Gambling Problem" and "Boyfriend's gambling buddy") were fun to watch. With a few exceptions, this was a show that treated its minor characters well.

TL;DR:

The overall message of the show, that revenge is ultimately empty and you need justice and reconciliation to move forward is nice. There were times when the show was a little slow and indulgent, but the characters and their stories always brought me back for more. Overall, an enjoyable drama.

#my kdrama notes #call it love

7 notes · View notes

highly-opinionated-art · 2 months ago

Text

It's officially been a year of album of the week illustrations! Had a hard time taking pictures this time around but you get the point, right?

(2024 part 1) (2024 part 2) (2024 part 3)

Lyrics + albums + descriptions:

Week 40: We're letting the music speak for itself this time: this is the guitar solo from the song Smooth, from the album Supernatural by Santana. Easily one of the songs of all time, and it turns out the rest of that album was quite fun as well!

Week 41: "it's gonna happen when it's supposed to happen", from the song One Step At A Time, from Jordin Sparks' debut album. My only claim to fame is that when I marched in Macy's thanksgiving day parade, we were behind her and she waved at us. I almost cried.

Week 42: "start again from wherever you end" is from the song Time Is The Playground, and "everything that ends begins again" is from the song Catching Windmill. Both are from the album Time Is The Playground by one of my favorite bands, Carbon Leaf!

Week 43: "speak soft with a big stick, do what I say or die", from the song US History, from the album Flipsyde by the band of the same name, except those lyrics are actually WRONG! It's supposed to be "do what I say or be killed". I'm so mad that I messed that up, cause I really like how this little piece came out. I also became instantly obsessed with that song, it's so good

Week 44: "what a way to make a livin'!", from the song 9 to 5, from the album 9 to 5 and Odd Jobs, by Dolly Parton. Once at work I found a silver stamp pad on the floor, so I took it home, and then I smeared it all over this page to create a glittery silver background which is impossible to take a picture of. The album itself was eh.

Week 45: it's the chorus and the background vocals of the song I Won't Give Up, from the album Love Is A Four Letter Word, by Jason Mraz. Another hella nostalgic banger- I drew my adult and kid selves singing it together

Week 46: "don't think you knew you were in this song", from the song 5 Years, from the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, by David Bowie. Sorry the art came out kind of bad this week, but not that sorry, cause what the hell was this album? Why, when I asked my parents which David Bowie album I should listen to, did they both recommend me this incomprehensible nonsense? It's so weird! You guys like this kind of thing???

Week 47: "it's been decided how we lose", from the song The Emptiness Machine, from the album From Zero, by Linkin Park. By contrast this whole album was absolutely incredible, I LOVED it. The art this time is my beloved Hector of Troy, duh!

Week 48: "show me to where there's music // with music, I just might go on", from the song I Gotta Have A Song, from the album Signed, Sealed, And Delivered, by Stevie Wonder. It was alright. Colored pencil drawing I'm pretty proud of this week of Kim, an old and also beloved oc

Week 49: "I've got laser vision, and I'm burning a hole in the wall", from the song The Lady and the Tiger, from the album Join Us, by They Might Be Giants. YES I fell victim to the same faulty red marker again. I threw it away this time. Also weird music, but weird in a way that was much easier for me to appreciate. Really liked this song in particular.

Week 50: "you can keep your body, I just want your place in the world", from the song Mantra, from the album Vicious Creature, by Lauren Mayberry. GOOD ALBUM! REALLY GOOD SONG! My mom was really confused by the background for some reason- it's of my broken car mirror. Duh.

BONUS ART: "little boys have action toys for brains // I'm living proof it can last a long time", from the song A Great Big Sled, from the album Don't Waste Your Wishes, by The Killers. Annual holiday listen to my favorite christmas album ever! Drawing is of an action figure I have- yes, he's blue, I call him Paintball Vader. Meant to make the words smaller but I like how this came out

Week 51: "I'm gonna set my feet on Southern soil and breathe that Southern air", from the song Hey Porter, from the album I Walk The Line by Johnny Cash. 'Why is it green' cause I don't have enough gray markers to make it grayscale instead. Next question. Was it a good album? Eh, it was fine.

Week 52: "whoever I was then, I can't ever be again", from the song Miami, from the album Louder Now, by Taking Back Sunday. I'm so mad because I had high hopes to like this album and I hate it. I picked an album I hated for the first AND last weeks of 2024, ugh!

Thanks for following along with this little project of mine so far- MORE TO COME IN 2025!!!

#art attempt #with lyrics #album of the week #wishing everyone a happy new year!

0 notes

unproductive-software-blog · 1 year ago

Text

every game I played in 2023 in chronological order:

1. Persons 5 Strikers: see post

2. Octopath Traveler: played for 1hr11mins after trading my copy of Pokémon Scarlet for it with a friend. The dialogue is too unrealistic, long-winded, and expository. 1/10

3. Alundra: great writing, but not enough to stand out from 2D Zelda. I also don't care for how sepiatone the visuals look. 7/10

4. Wide Ocean Big Jacket: nice game. Could be a blueprint for something really special in the future. 8/10

5. 20 Minutes 'Til Dawn: wow, a run-based game that's actually skill-based. Super addictive, looks awesome, doesn't waste your time, works great on phone. 7/10

6. Vampire Survivors: boring game with uncomfortable controls and bad graphics. Someone was bound to come up with this idea, so I think this game gets too much credit because it was almost immediately bested by its copycats. 5/10

7. Into the Breach: a puzzle game skinned as a tactics game. Too restrictive for my tastes. nothing to it. weirdly good ost. 2/10

8. Oneshot: see post

9. Pokémon Unbound: ROM hack that delivers on everything we want but don't get from Pokémon, but the heart is missing. 4/10

10. Mega Man X: fun game, great ending, worst guitar samples on SNES (sounds like a car commercial), and plays more like an NES game than Mega Man 6 on the NES. 4/10

11. The Dark Spire: one of the best soundtracks on DS, great aesthetic all around, interesting turn-based battle system with many different ways to execute a normal attack (fast, accurate, strong, etc.) and it leaves a lot up to you to discover through play. drops off after not to long when it becomes clear the story wasn't really going anywhere, and the dark aesthetic is just an aesthetic. 4/10

12. Pokémon Sapphire as Nuzlocked: pretty tough!

13. Final Fantasy III (NES): excellent pace that never requires grinding until the very end, which pits you against a dungeon the length of nearly a third of the game length to complete normally. i save-stated the hell out of it, and it still wasn't worth it. maybe play the pixel remaster and just up the speed or lower the difficulty or something at that part, because there are actually some very beautiful moments, and it's definitely, up until that point, the best RPG on the NES that I've played. 3/10

14. Elden Ring: this game makes me feel like the sane man in an insane world. everyone says it's the best game ever, BUT NONE OF THOSE PEOPLE HAVE BEATEN THE GAME. what a padded and directionless game. also does not provide anything of value in the story/themes department that hasn't already been beaten to death by the developer in their previous titles. Dark Souls 2 does everything this game tries to much much better. 2/10

15. The Legend of Zelda: I played this to see if open world fantasy action adventure games were ever even any good. this is honestly, basically just Elden Ring on the NES. 2/10

16. Sonic Advance: hits hard and fast. gotta save those animals. my dad says sonic runs fast and goes through unnecessary loops and stuff to build kids' confidence. 6/10

17. Zelda II: The Adventure of Link: ok so TOLZ isn't as good as I remembered, was its sequel any good? no! this is still an interesting game with absolutely garbage soulslike combat. 1/10

18. Dragon Warrior II: I keep trying to play through this and either dropping it for a different version or losing my save data. it's another early open-world game. i like the way the world is like one big puzzle for you to solve, but they SERIOUSLY don't provide enough hints, like hiding a necessary item on an unmarked tile of the overworld, surrounded by identical tiles. gets points for good npcs. Yuji Hori is clearly a man who gives a shit about stuff that matters. 3/10

19. Master Chu & the Drunkard Hu: another NES game for my commute. They give you infinite continues unless you lose to the final series of bosses, which they don't tell you. feels like a little life lesson to get used to it, then have it suddenly taken away. kind of a nonsense game otherwise. 1/10

20. Sonic Advance 2: even as a kid with the manual i didn't know how to do the aerial moves, and i didn't know about them this time until I finally looked it up because i kept dying on the parts where you need them. actually made it kind of far by being a little creative. the game really doesn't teach you about them. once you learn them though, oh man. i played through the whole game again because it's so much fun to use them. this is basically strictly better than the first sonic advance. AND IT HAS CREAM THE RABBIT, who is my favorite of the sonic crew. BRING BACK CREAM! 7/10

21. Omori: see video, 10/10

22. Pokémon Scarlet: see video and post, 4/10

23. Etrian Odyssey III HD: see post, EO3 has some kind of sloppy political metaphors dealing with racism and colonialism, but as someone who knows the other games in the series, which are more straightforward, I do think their head was in the right place here. excellent class system and world. the two benefit eachother a LOT. the rpg classes actually reflect class in a really unique and interesting way (examples: sovereign, farmer, knight, privateer, academic, indigenous person [these are not all the exact names used in-game]). I sat down irl and did lots of math on paper trying to come up with a fun yet powerful party. so addictive and enthralling. a massive adventure that I immediately started on NG+ to see the secret ending. 7/10

24. Pokémon White 2: tbh, still a game that didn't really need to exist. I think plasma in this game is a metaphor for old fans still clinging to the Pokémon series' past. Colress goes on Smogon. IRIS is the hero because she's just a kid who loves pokemon. 5/10

25. Sin and Punishment: crazy ambitious for its time. its influence can be felt today in games like Final Fantasy 7 Remake, which flow seemlessly between action and cutscene. what relentless pace. kind of awkward controls and an outright outdated continue system. would be strictly outclassed by Star Successor were it not for the love story and cutscenes in general, which have a really cool evangelion kind of feel to them. 7/10

26. A Short Hike: recommended to everyone. so easy to pick up and enjoy. real nice ending. 8/10

27. Drx Mario 64: actually very underrated: has a cute fun little story mode with really unique pop-up book presentation. 7/10

28. Puyo Puyo Tetris 2: excellent writing that utterly kicks Drx Mario's ass. WOW. kept playing all the way through the horrible ending just to see the story. this game was a portal into a whole world of compile that i never knew about before, and man, this is like their smash bros. there is so much crazy lore going on in this game, and they are so flippant about ALL OF IT, it's hilarious and cool. Satan is a character in this game. HE JOINS YOUR PARTY. CW, there is a chapter in which you play as one member of the party as they sexually harass another member of the party!! So yeah, I don't love the big themes in this game, but it's just so surprising and very modern. also gets way too hard towards the end. 5/10

29. Celeste: stressful game with stupid frustrating characters. I related more to Badeline than Madeline. seriously Madeline would be so dead were it not for infinite lives. also the way characters squish when they move is nauseating. Absolutely loved the ending when you make peace with your darkside and can practically fly around the game. I wish the whole game played that way instead. 5/10

30. Etrian Odyssey II HD: EO2 is honestly just not that great. it's way too basic. it's strictly outclassed by EO2 Untold, which is fun for the sheer amount of customization options, and the cozy vibes. 4/10

31. Pokémon Leafgreen: this game introduced me to the concept of a remake. as a remake it's pretty good. it plays it very safe, but adds a whole new area to the postgame which is the best content in the game by far. they really did improve after gen 1, and it shows, especially in the writing department. I experimented with a new nuzlocke technique in which I don't count deaths as a result of crossing the street and not looking at the game, allow myself to fight bosses underleveled without counting it as a game over if i lose, and sacrifice a new pokemon of the same family to revive an older one. it cut down on grinding significantly, while still pushing me to stragize and try new monsters. 4/10

32. Final Fantasy VII REMAKE: the most AAA game ever. so glad a developer made a AAA game that focuses on quality over quantity. it made me feel the way i always hope a AAA game will, like I'm actually happy people worked so hard to create this human achievement. even if the game is still padded, it's always got a great flow and almost never gets boring or aimless. also, the team clearly really loves FF7, and for every major scene they didn't quite nail, there is tons of interstitial dialogue, and new scenes that expand on the characters, world, story, and themes in a way that almost always feels right. I do think the ghosts are stupid. please do not add random ghosts into the background of cloud and aerith's first meeting, it kind of kills the vibe. 8/10

33. Fire Emblem (GBA): Wow. Talk about a game that has earned its reputation. The game is very high in the kind of last-minute surprise reinforcement/ critical hit bullshit that I hate about this series most, but the story is so incredibly wholesome and pairs excellently with the crazy violent animations. They clash so severely in a way that really emphasizes how ahead of their time the heroes are. They want to be perfect, peacemongering leaders in a world filled with hate and oppression on every level. Deals with race, class and sexism in a way later games have probably done better, but was very surprising and very E-rated in a way that was extremely direct, which is how I prefer games to tackle those themes (basically succeeding where EO3 fails, even if it is overly-simplistic in comparison). Might be my favorite of the series if not for the cheap way they ramp up difficulty. Also, the music is totally forgettable. The scene in which you recruit Nino pairs excellently with Yuzo Koshiro's The Poets I from Streets of Rage 3. 7/10

youtube

^ 0:11 - 0:52

#goty 2023

1 note · View note

300iqprower · 3 months ago

Text

@so-no-headpats

The Good:

Vivian is canonically trans in every language

There is a partner wheel so you dont have to pause constantly like its Ocarina of Time Boots syndrome

The shortcut pipes are now labeled and there are two mini shortcuts to the steeple and pirate cave.

The game looks prettier and there's extended/remastered music that FUCKS.

There is now an official reward for filling out the badge and tattle logs, although it's just a skin but its not like theres much to reward you with if you've thoroughly beaten the game like that. At least its acknowledged now.

You can interact with objects and characters while on yoshi, no need to mount and dismount every other second.

You can use Goombella's field ability even when she's not out but this lowkey sucks for reasons i'll get to later

The Bad: Quite literally everything else.

Firstly i wanna clear up there's a lot of false advertised "Quality of life". Fuck purism but literally all the "QoL" changes are just removing challenge from the game which Nintnedo loves to do with their remasters, looking at you Hyrule Warriors Definitive Edition.

More inventory slots: So you can stack even more life shrooms basically. Quality of Life would have been letting us send itmes we find in the field directly to storage, which you still cannot do.

Restarting failed boss battles: The game is very good about save points and specifically has back-to-back boss battles meant to test your preparation that now dont work like that.

No penalty for fleeing fights: Self explanatory, the game has a badge that lets you skip fights you're overleveled for already.

"New Content" there are literally 2 new fights in the post game. 2. That's it. And they both require grinding out a bunch of fights that were already in the base game,. FFS one of them literally requires you to do the pit of 100 trials TWICE. That's padding and a half.

"Balance changes" are just nonsense. Its very Nintendo brand where the game is objectively easier but it makes it much harder for you to play the game how YOU want and not how Nintendo intends, case in point the frame perfect nerfs to things like Power Bounce and Multibonk.

"we'll put in a concept art gallery showing all the idea we didnt have time to implement in the original 2004 release but no way are we gonna put in any effort and actually finish our vision and add that as new content to justify the remake"

NOW FOR THE STRAIGHT UP ACTUAL DOWNGRADES.

The framerate is halved

You cannot mash through dialogue anymore

the game explicitly has longer intro and ending battle animations

HAVE YOU NOTICED A TREND OF SHAMELESS PADDING YET???

Theres a useless yet detailed tutorial NPC who follows you around. How about using that time on new REAL content instead jackoffs?

The big one: Unfortunately the chuds were lowkey right about "censorship" and blah blah. Aside from Vivian, who deserves the world like the not-evil shadow queen she is, there are SO many changes to the dialogue and unlike Vivian they are not for the better. Pretty much all the edges have been sanded off, and I don't mean they removed offensive jokes I mean they've even done some truly petty shit that makes the story objectively worse. The straw that broke the camel's back for me was finding out they retconned the Shadow Queen's hidden lore to remove any possible nuance to her motivations. That's just one of a TON of examples of the dialogue having all its personality sucked out.

So have fun freely seeing all Goombella's sassy dialogue now that a good chunk of sass has been removed!

Also remember those improvements to Yoshi? Well his ability still sucks because now it has a windup rather than being an actually effective mobility tool because again this shit is padded as hell.

this is in no way a comprehensive list of either positive or negative changes but it should be enough to make clear I sure as shit know where I stand on whether or not this garbage is more worth it than just using the HD texture pack on dolphin.

Literally only a duo as incompetent as Nintendo + IntelligentSystems would manage to fuck up a rerelease of TTYD

#paper mario #video games #nintendo #fuck nintendo #ttyd

12 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

s.o.s, m | knj

pairing(s): namjoon x reader

summary: It's two in the morning and Kim Namjoon is at your doorstep, asking you to fuck. In a fuckbuddies way, because, as a wise man once said, "I may not know love, but I know snacks." Well, you do agree with this statement. Let's go with the flow!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics, blowjob, cowgirl); friends-with-benefits and feels through fucking (classic for me, haha, maybe I fell in love with him while writing it, oops)

happy birthday, Kim Namjoon <3 #happyRMday

now playing – pado by bibi

“Hey!”

“Shit, Namjoon, are you trying to break my door down at two in the morning or what? What’s with you? Why didn’t you just type in the lock?”

Kim Namjoon’s large frame and big brown eyes glanced at the silver-blue electronic number pad on your apartment door. “Oh. Right. I forgot you had that now.”

“I have it because you keep losing my key!”

He rubbed the back of his now blond head sheepishly. He must have dyed it recently because it had been dark brown last week. It was shorter than before, trimmed at the sides and longer at the top. Usually it was styled, but right now it was messy and puffy like he had been running across the city on those long legs of his or, more likely, windblown from riding his bicycle on his way here.

Namjoon didn’t drive. He said it was to maintain world peace.

“Do you wanna fuck?” he asked you breathlessly.

You looked down at your massive black sleep shirt that made you look like a lump of fabric, but, well, he picked today to pop the question and what were you gonna do? Say no?

You snapped back up, smacking your finger on your left wrist. “It’s two in the morning!”

“One forty-five, yeah,” Namjoon agreed, glancing at his brown leather-banded, white-faced watch. Simple and sleek. You noticed he had a few colorful string-woven bracelets on his wrists, likely handmade by someone in the various rural villages Namjoon liked to visit in his spare time. He dropped his arm and smiled brilliantly at you with those dimpled cheeks.

“I was thinking about you. You know, that habit you do when you run your hand through your hair and flick your wrist at the end, elegantly spreading your fingers out. Super sexy.”

You felt your ears heat. “Hahah… what?”

He scratched his head and stuck his hands in his loose black pants, draping his warm gray t-shirt over his wrists. Lowered his chin and flickered his eyes to you, awkward half-smile on those full lips.

Oh.

Shit.

“D… Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, backing up and shifting your eyes. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” Namjoon chirped, stepping inside and out of his brown sandals.

“Give me those puppy eyes even though you’re built like a fucking tank.”

“I snore like one too.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But none of those things really mattered because your arm was snaking up, your other hand slapping the door closed, looking down until you couldn’t look down anymore, lifting your head to playful dark brown orbs and a dimpled smile, already leaning down, his scent of warm cotton and faint florals washing over you, and then his lips touched yours and it was over.

You could say no, you could, but you never really wanted to.

Namjoon wasn’t being rude showing up so late. After all, you had already told him it was one of your fantasies, a late-night rendezvous, a bit of unexpected expected fun. Namjoon was willing to help, a game of ping-pong between casual, sometimes lovers, both too busy and scatterbrained at this point in life to commit to anything, but that worked for you and for him, or at least that’s what you told him and what he told you, his large hands now encircling your back, fingertips pressed into the thin fabric, sighing into your mouth, rhythm of those long fingers dancing up, up, sinking into your hair, tangling himself in it, nibbling at your lower lip.

“I just love touching your hair,” that deep, deep voice whispered to your lips, eyes still closed, smirking as the tip of your tongue darted out, playing with him as he spoke. “And I like messing it up a little.”

“A little? You like messing it up a lot.”

Namjoon curled his fingers inward and pulled back, your head following automatically, grinning with you as he opened his eyes, devious even with the dimples.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

It wasn’t fun if it wasn’t with him.

You raised your hand and spread your fingers out, slowly running your nails up and then down his chest, smirking back at him, your tongue peeking out between your teeth.

Namjoon once said to you, let’s just go with the flow, ride the wave.

He sucked in a breath right now and pulled you close, hands letting go of your hair as he captured your lips again, deep, ravenous kisses that took your breath away, such wonderful lips that loved to travel across your body and wander that wonderland, his hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt, bunching it up as he stumbled back into your apartment, dragging you with him, you riding the wave of his passion, dragging his shirt up with yours, tossing them aside, body to body, exploring lips on that warm skin and muscular chest.

Namjoon also said things like, I may not know love, but I know snacks, so, yeah, he was always poetic like that. Full of wisdom and weirdness, arguably the best combination one could have when struggling through this nonsensical world.

You pushed him down on the bed, kissing all that tan skin, running your nails down his shoulders, walking down his defined biceps finger by finger, digging in a little harder, pairing it with kisses and drawing stars on his pecs with your saliva, making him smile and flash those dimples.

“Like that?” you teased, drawing back a little so he could watch the mastery of your tongue at work.

“You know me,” Namjoon chuckled, the sound radiating from his chest to your mouth, sending ripples through your spine. “I like cute things with a little pinch.”

“Like those tiny beach crabs?”

Now he actually laughed, that throaty, booming laugh of his, nodding with affirmation.

You sometimes wondered when the waves would stop and roll out, sometimes wondered if the tide of Kim Namjoon would go low and leave you behind, but maybe it was the moon or something, cosmic threads that sent him rushing back to your beach, bright and sparkling, always catching the light and looking good from every angle.

“Fuck, I always forget you’re huge.”

“I am not huge. You are being dramatic.”

“Dramatically sucking your dick.”

You knew how to take his breath away, how to make him gasp and his hand fly to your head, groaning as he pushed you down, your throat closing around his rapidly swelling length, tongue all over in the small window you had to wetly caress every contour and vein, bobbing your head in time with his gentle nudges, waiting for you and your jaw to adjust before thrusting a little harder, a little rougher, choppy waves and lost breath. His scent filled your nose, his toned hips in your hands, digging your nails into that muscle, inhaling and drowning in the feeling, pressing him between tongue and roof of your mouth, feeling the head hitting your throat, so you tightened your muscles.

Namjoon moaned your name, brown orbs turning darker from dilated pupils.

It filled your ears and soaked into your chest, your heart pumping faster, beating harder, drawn to the sound like a sailor to a siren.

You took him deeper, pulsing around the head, sticking your tongue out a little to lap at his balls collected in your hands.

“A-Ah, fuck… You’re always so, so good… always making me think of you…”

You watched his eyes close, his hand gripping your hair, not unkind, simply adding a little bit of force, but you were in control of the pace, riding the wave, filling your mouth with his hardness over and over, closing your own eyes, small tears collecting at the corners, unable to breathe, but you already knew you were diving and you practiced for this, holding your breath and bobbing your head fast and tight, your fingernails clawing at his sides just the way he liked, a little neediness, a little desperation, maybe an act or maybe not, honestly hard to tell with how often you had blown him, so maybe it was part of you now, just like how sometimes you would be alone and smell his scent even though Namjoon wasn’t there at all, maybe real but probably an olfactory memory, strange that it would happen just like that, a wave of warm cotton and faint florals that you drank in small trickles right now, your mouth occupied with his thick length, listening to the sloppy, wet sound of his cock being swallowed over and over again by your suffocating mouth, saliva sliding over his balls and onto your chin.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

Pushing you down, forcing you to deep dive, swallowing on instinct, clamping your lips around his jerking cock with every gulp of gushing cum, the strong salty taste lingering in the back of your tongue as your throat was stuffed with the swollen head. Namjoon shuddered deeply, resonating pleasure that drifted down his torso and through your fingertips. You lapped up anything you missed, sucking it off and Namjoon hissed at the sensitivity, tugging at your hair sharply.

You hummed and retreated a little, breathing again, licking the underside of the tip, wiggling your tongue over the slit and around head, opening your eyes to Namjoon’s panting smile.

“You want me to punish you or what?”

Nah, you wanted to ride the wave, but this particular wave was pretty fucking big.

“Oooh, fuck…!”

Namjoon raised his arms and grabbed your pillows, thrusting his hips up into your pussy after you had lowered halfway. The condom wrapper flew off the bed, probably to be found in some random place in your room tomorrow morning.

A later you problem.

Hands on his chest, sinking down, gasping for breath at the forced stretch at his girth, but it was nicer that way, wet and getting wetter, spreading your knees and arching your back, your hair falling down your shoulders, rolling your body to smack down onto his crotch, fuck, so hard and so full, starting a rough, choppy rhythm because Namjoon was deliberately not letting you set up a reasonable pace and kept thrusting up a little too fast, a little too hard, hot moans tumbling out of your mouth, feeling the crashing pleasure try to overtake you, drawing your knees back in to feel all of him, your palms sliding up, grasping those strong shoulders, lowering your head to speak to those sultry brown orbs reflecting your open mouth and half-lidded gaze.

“Namjoon… please, oh, f-fuck… if you’re gonna be like this, j-just fuck me…!”

He grinned, dimples on display.

“Anything for you.”

Mayday, mayday, you needed to be saved from that teasing smile and those words.

His hands fitted to your shaking hips and held you up easily, lifting his hips up at a deep, hard pace, emphasis on strength and less on speed, the muscles of his arms tense and locked to keep you above him as he slammed his hard cock into your pussy.

“Ah, yes, yes, right there, Namjoon, yes…”

You could go deeper so you did, slapping your hips down too and making Namjoon grin under you. Shit, something about those round cheeks and bright smile while he was railing you practically to heaven was doing something to you, washing out your senses and giving you no time to think, squeezing him inside you and feeling him twitch back, something so sexy about how he could do that even while fucking you, and you saw him suck in a breath, witnessing your effect on him, his hold becoming tighter, his dark lashes lowering, hooded eyes and locking with your gaze.

Drowning in the pleasure with you.

“Come on, you want it, right?” he panted under you, voice so deep it felt like you were underwater, your skin vibrating with the seductiveness of his tone and the depth of his sound mixing with the harsh slaps of skin to skin, wet and wonderful. “Show me you want it, give it to me.”

You couldn’t say no, already tightening your core and smacking down on him harder before he could even finish speaking, the ecstasy shooting up your spine and pouring all over your scalp and mind, letting go, pitched cries and blissful moans, Namjoon moaning with you, your name on his lips and filling up your bedroom, clutching his shoulders and staring into his eyes, breathing in warm cotton and faint florals, cast away into a wild paradise.

You clenched around him and gasped, a powerful jolt rocking through you, surprised at the sudden squelch but then you felt the overwhelming rush barreling through you, sweeping you into pulsing pleasure, one of your hands losing grip and grabbing onto the pillow beside Namjoon’s head, his heavy breath and your exhaled name blowing over on your prickling skin, realizing you were accidentally closer than usual because your hand slipped, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and slamming you down onto his crotch, groaning and tipping his head back, his eyes closing, Adam’s apple prominent against his flexed neck.

If possible, suddenly you could breathe even less.

Your pussy throbbed around his twitching cock, his orgasm spurting into the condom and your juices soaking his skin with each flinch of the aftermath, wave after wave crashing into you, your arms trembling to hold yourself up so you could absorb it all – him, the dwindling pleasure, the moment when his eyes opened, your name drifting out of those lips in a lustful haze.

“I should… go back to mine, huh…” he wheezed, chuckling slightly. “Otherwise, I’m going to snore too loud and you’re not going to be able to sleep…”

You slid down, closer, closer, seeing the mole underneath his lower lip with his rueful smile. His fingers were drawing circles on your hips.

“I bought earplugs.”

You silenced his laugh with a kiss.

masterpost

#namjoon x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you

805 notes · View notes

nat-20s · 4 years ago

Text

me looking at my own post: you could fanfic out of this!

Anyway here’s how I think a typical “Martin’s Poetry Corner” would go!

~*~

Martin: And for my second thing, we’re going back to the poetry corner!

Jon: Again? Didn’t you have a poetry corner last week?

Martin: It’s been well over two months since the last poetry corner, my dear. And just for that comment I’m going to up the amount of the poetry corner. From now on this podcast is me reading poetry interjected with some guy talking nonsense.

Jon: You say that like the majority of our audience wouldn’t prefer that. Also, some guy? I’m wounded! Earlier you were calling me ‘beloved husband’ and ‘cherished one’ and now I’m ‘some guy’? What did I do to deserve that level of downgrade?

Martin: You decried the poetry corner!

Jon: I decried nothing! It was a purely non-judgmental comment on the frequency of it. If you want to do poem every week, I have nothing against that.

Martin: Hmm. I might test you on that. I know the whole point of this thing is to share things we think are lovely, and I do find all the poems I read lovely, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive.

Jon: Oh? And what might your nefarious hidden agenda be?

Martin: I’m certain you’re the only one that would find it nefarious, but I can, must, shall, and will find a poem that affects you. Now, I’m sure the listeners at home would decry that goal. After all Mary Oliver, Maya Angelou, Wendy Cope, and Langston Hughes all did nothing. He didn’t even blink at “The Two-Headed Calf”, surely there can’t possibly-

Jon, laughing, which severely limits how much he’s able to sell his faux offense: I’ve been affected by poetry before!

Martin: Name one poem you had an actual strong reaction to.

Jon, smugly: It’s almost certainly not one you know. It’s called “Streets” and it’s by this really obscure author. God, what was his name? K was his middle initial I believe?

Martin, laughing: Piss off!

Jon: Well it’s true! I felt something at all of your poetry.

Martin: Liar! I very distinctly remember you calling it ‘almost affecting’! And you declared I was enamored with Keats, which doesn’t even make sense, we have wildly different composition styles.

Jon: You’re working from incomplete information. That tape was from my first read through. It was the reread where they got me.

Martin: Reread? I thought you hated rereading things?

Jon: Typically, yes. But. Ah. It was during the year you were gone.

Martin: Oh. Oh, love.

Jon: It’s been half a decade since then, Martin, I can assure you I’m fine. Though, I suppose reflecting on it, the affecting quality was more to do with who had written the poetry itself. Even now, you could write a grocery list for fun and I’d be hopelessly endeared by it.

Martin: Shut up.

Jon: I shall not! It’s been a hell of a road to get here, I think it’s more than acceptable to flaunt how much I like my husband, especially when he’s doing something he enjoys. In fact, I think it’d be more than appropriate if I did one of your poems for one of my wonderful things next week.

Martin: Absolutely not! Jon, there is a certain level of ‘embarrassing old men in love’ we’re allowed to be in the public sphere, and that would exceed it by, fuck, tenfold? Our quota would be wiped out for the year. For the next five years. No. Besides, my poems aren’t meant for anyone’s eyes and ears but my own, and occasionally you when you’re being nosy.

Jon, with audible shit eating grin: So you’re saying you wouldn’t like to hear your poetry in my voice?

Martin, having a gay panic despite being married to this man for years: I..uh..

Jon: Yes?

Martin: I would..I would like that very much. Privately. Er, please.

Jon: Well, since you asked so nicely. I suppose the poetry corner shall remain yours, for now.

Martin: Thank you for your grand generosity and understanding. Speaking of, should I get to the actual poem? I think I might have a winner with this one.

Jon: Please do.

Martin: So this week I’m bringing a poem written by an, as far as I can tell, unnamed ninth century Irish Monk-

Jon: -ninth century? Decided to abandon the contemporary route then?

Martin: Somewhat? The poem was written in the ninth century, but no one wants to hear me butcher the original, so I’m going to read the English translation by Seamus Heaney, which was done in 2006, so sort of contemporary? Depending how you look at it? Anyway, this is Pangur Bán:

Pangur Bán and I at work,

Adepts, equals, cat and clerk:

His whole instinct is to hunt,

Mine to free the meaning pent.

More than loud acclaim, I love

Books, silence, thought, my alcove.

Happy for me, Pangur Bán

Child-plays round some mouse’s den.

Truth to tell, just being here,

Housed alone, housed together,

Adds up to its own reward:

Concentration, stealthy art.

Next thing an unwary mouse

Bares his flank: Pangur pounces.

Next thing lines that held and held

Meaning back begin to yield.

All the while, his round bright eye

Fixes on the wall, while I

Focus my less piercing gaze

On the challenge of the page.

With his unsheathed, perfect nails

Pangur springs, exults and kills.

When the longed-for, difficult

Answers come, I too exult.

So it goes. To each his own.

No vying. No vexation.

Taking pleasure, taking pains,

Kindred spirits, veterans.

Day and night, soft purr, soft pad,

Pangur Bán has learned his trade.

Day and night, my own hard work

Solves the cruxes, makes a mark.

Isn’t that just delightful? Jon what did you-holy shit!

Jon, voice tight: What?

Martin: You teared up! You’re affected! Fuckin’ gottem!! I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known that the way to Jonathan Sims’ soul was through a poem about a man feeling kinship with his cat. Incredible.

Jon, slightly sniffling: It’s a very nice poem! You read it because it’s a very nice poem!

Martin: Yes it is! That doesn’t discount the fact that I have read poems about love and hardships and finding joy in being alive and it’s the one about the cat that gets to you. Of course. I love you.

Jon: I love you too. Even if you are a bit too victorious over this. I think that will wrap it up for this week?

Martin: Think so! And as we say at the end of every episode, uh, the way to a man’s heart is not through his stomach, but through cat poems from a thousand years ago.

#jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #wonderful! au #my fic #tma

851 notes · View notes

pandor-pandorkful · 1 year ago

Text

Ah man. This is simultaneously one of the most heartening responses to my Tezuka ranting, and also the most heartbreaking.

Good on ya for having a logical gut response of "some folks like to draw smut, so what?" But you deserve to know about Osamu Tezuka, who is rightfully called the God of manga--but he was so much more than just a prolific mangaka.

At the very least, read the profile on the official website:

In short: Osamu Tezuka was a pioneer of not only comics but also TV animation, influencing not only Japan but the Entire World. He was a humanitarian, a doctor, a scientist, an inventor, and creator of countless game-changing works. Over 700 hundred manga, as previously stated in one of my earlier posts.

I want that to sink in: Seven. HUNDRED.

Not short stories, either. That number is not padded out with one-pagers. We are talking about HUNDREDS of SERIES.

He created many of the distinct sub-genres of manga that persist to this day, perhaps most notably Shoujo/comics for girls, with Princess Knight in 1953. A series about a "princess by the name of Sapphire who has both a boy's heart and a girl's heart. She cleans up evils by disguising herself as Princess Knight."

He ended up creating NUMEROUS feminist-leaning and queer-positive characters and stories, for all ages and all ratings. Just out of the basic belief of "Hey, it's unrealistic to NOT depict these people--and to do so in a negative light would be rude."

He made mistakes, yes. But he displayed a lifelong willingness to learn and amend those mistakes.

But let's cut to the chase about WHY I'm personally upset at people applying a purity filter over their assumptions about Tezuka.

Probably his best-known creations in his lifetime were his works for children, Astro-Boy/Tetsuan Atom perhaps being THE most influential. His work for child readers was GROUNDBREAKING. Tezuka did not pull punches when writing for a young audience, filling those stories with the same messages about tolerance and ethics as his work for adult readers. He refused to talk down to his young audience or treat them as lesser--something that unfortunately remains uncommon to this day in kid's media.

As wholly commendable as this was, it left him with a nearly unshakable reputation: "Osamu Tezuka, beloved creator of CHILDREN'S MANGA."

Which was stifling for him! He HATED being pigeonholed like that, and especially how it limited the reception to his more mature oriented works. Worst of all, due to basically creating so many genres of manga, his art style was seen as "outdated" by the time he was barely halfway through his career.

So, he bucked HARD against that reputation! He made hundreds of works for adult readers, from sobering examinations on the nature of human cruelty and kindness to just fun smutty sexy romps, and worked hard to "modernize" his drawing style. Tezuka REFUSED to be left in the dust, while at the same time never discounting his prior work for children.

I suspect it was that desperation to get ahead of the game that makes so much of his work feel so fresh and remarkable to this very day... although that habit of overworking himself invariably led to his early death.

THIS is why it's so very upsetting to see people act shocked that he drew smut, and assume that he must have been hiding it! It's that old reputation that caused him so much legitimate distress in his lifetime, and it's that "art vs porn" attitude that limits and strangles all creatives to this very day.

Tezuka worked hard to buck that assumption of his purity, gleefully exploring sexy fucked up nonsense and serious unflinching examinations on human nature in the same breath.

He was so very, very human himself. He deserves his messy imperfect humanity to be remembered and respected.

Here's to the God of Manga, Osamu Tezuka. Born November 3rd, 1928. Died February 9th, 1989, at the age of 60. A treasure to the world. Shamelessly human.

My special interest is comics and has been since I was around 11 or so, and I will rant to you about Osamu Tezuka for hours on end, so help me god.

"Hiding his porn until he died." People sure do love saying the first thing that comes to their mind without having even a cursory understanding of what they're talking about, huh!!!

#sorry this got so long!#i just really care a lot about tezuka #my recs: black jack. phoenix. buddha. mw (if you can handle it.) princess knight.#and there's no shame in starting with the animations based on his work!!#the black jack ovas and anime series are both very good #the ovas preserve the mature dark grittiness of the manga #while the anime series amplifies the warm hopeful heart of the manga #both are excellent

218 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 4 years ago

Text

Disarming (Santi x fem!reader)

Summary: you and Santi - good friends- are Best Man and Maid of Honour at Frankie’s wedding, and guess what? There’s only one bed!

What is this? This is 5/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. The prompt is “We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend”, requested by @woakiees. Another double trope extravaganza! Hadley, I’m so pleased you suggested Santi for this one, as he immediately came to mind when I was writing this prompt :D Thank you so much for requesting! <3

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Apparently I get carried away EVERY time I write Santi. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! :-/

Word count: 7.5k. I’M SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Rating: 18+ ONLY (minors out, please, do not read or interact)

Warnings: it gets angsty in the middle. Reader has nightmare- comfort offered. Mentions of reader being “hurt” in the past but vague and unspecified. They have a fight. One or two alcohol mentions- no actual consumption. Food mention. Swearing. Steam leading into smut but not explicit- mentions of masturbation, erections, making-out, one brief allusion to choking kink. Let me know if I missed anything.

Tagging: @isvvc-pvscvl @casifer-is-king (loads of the tags aren’t working :-/)

GIF: @nathan-bateman

From the first moment you met Santi, you had simply fallen into step with him. It was effortless, and so, as soon as you found yourself by his side, you stayed there. What’s more, that’s exactly where he wanted you to be.

Despite the man’s hard, no-nonsense edge -which you also appreciated- he was warm and charming. It was easy to connect with him, in a way it hadn’t often been for you. For him too - or so the boys told you - the way you surpassed his defences was a rare thing. It shouldn’t have worked, perhaps. Usually, he was slow to trust and you were quick to love, but on this occasion none of that seemed to apply, the two of you tumbling squarely into a fast-friendship; one deeper and more intense, perhaps, than its duration might suggest. Still, despite the boys’ inferences that you would quickly become an item, and Santi’s continual attempts to blur the lines between this and… something more, “friends” is what you have remained.

You had felt it immediately with him. Something different. You simply... flowed. You fit. It was immediately evident, even on that first night, in the way you orbited around one another, setting up an impromptu beer pong of all things. You moved together with a fluidity and a precision that seems almost tactical- as though you too had run countless manoeuvres in the field with him. You could read him and understand him as though you had drilled his habits and patterns and idiosyncrasies over and over; learning him. However, he was never that much effort - the two of you came naturally to each other, little learning required. You knew each other with your gut.

At that fateful party, when you each escaped to the back porch steps for some air at a serendipitous moment, the conversation had immediately flowed, and not only as a result of his natural, disarming charm. The silence even came easily rightaway – a comfortable thing, the space between you stuffed with contentment, rather than the feeling of a gaping vacuum, needlessly filled. It turned out his best friend was dating yours (the pair to be wed this very weekend) but that almost seemed like the cherry on top, rather than the thing bringing you to each other.

Safe to say, what was true then is true now. You get on so well. You find him fun and easy and generous and you love the man dearly.

…Most of the time.

Those other times, though? Santiago “Pope” Garcia can be a pain in your ass. But that’s another reason you love him, you guess. Keeps things interesting.

“Please don’t kill me,” Santi says sheepishly, and it’s obvious to you he’s laying on the charm - actively trying to be as disarming as possible as he saunters over from the reception desk. For a moment, despite all his training, he looks as though he believes you could pull it off, too.

Your annoyance is already prepped; locked and loaded, as he pads squarely towards the banquette where you are sat - amidst a sea of luggage. You’ve been observing his attempts to charm the desk clerk with interest (his efforts, you surmise, at least partially effectual), and judging from the slight level of desperation in his efforts, you can already tell he fucked up somehow.

“What did you do?” you say impatiently, even as a smile twitches at the corner of your lips.

“I booked all the rooms we needed, for all of the wedding guests, right? 13 rooms here, and all 10 at the hotel across town. 4 more in guesthouses,” he recaps. “Got Frankie and Mila a great deal too, remember?”

You remember. And yet, you fold your arms across your chest, looking up at him incredulously. Okay then. Rolling with your attitude, the man takes a different tack. He sits next to you. Smiles. Leans in. Pats your thigh. He’s trying to disarm you too, you realise. It’s going to take more than that - you’re not some flimsy desk clerk who will form a puddle and bat your eyes at the first sign of his charm.

“Well, funny story. I may have forgotten to book our rooms,” he blurts.

Oh? Oh, great. Yeah. This is a grand fuck-up. The whole damn town is booked-out. It’s a small town. No longer amused, your nostrils flare in annoyance as you tug in a slow breath, schooling your tone just a little before you speak. “You what?” Okay, you didn’t manage to school it all that much.

“Look, I already sort of fixed it,” he smooths. That explains the flirting with the clerk. Although, you think, glancing back at her. She’s pretty. That partially explains the flirting with the clerk, then, you mentally correct. “There’s just one, teeny-tiny issue.”

You raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes. Well?

“We’re gonna have to share a room.”

You blink at him a few times, in surprise. Well, it’s not ideal. For a number of reasons. But you can think of worse things, truth be told. And he’s not wrong. It is a solution. Still, on his reveal, a succession of emotions and micro-assessments are bounced back and forth between your eyes and his, until you land on resigned annoyance, exhaling a long sigh. That is, until Frankie appears in the lobby, swanning in like he’s walking on air. He probably is, given that he’s getting married this weekend. His face splits with a smile so wide you reckon it should be painful to maintain, and you stand to greet him as he heads over.

You’re glad he’s happy. It means that you and Santi, as Maid of Honour and Best man, respectively, are doing a fantastic job of deflecting all of the stress away from the happy couple. Indeed, that assessment certainly feels true – you do feel stressed. Still, the two of you immediately paint your faces with masking smiles; though, in fairness, it’s hard not to smile while looking at Frankie – his obvious joy is infectious.

Frankie wraps you both in a hug, then rubs his palms together like an excited kid. “I don’t have much time. Just gonna say a quick hello to my parents. Apparently, my mom’s already started crying? Can you two sort some extra tissues for the ceremony or something? Oh, and is everything okay with the rooms?”

“With this guy? Are you kidding?”, you say before you think, throwing your thumb towards Santi. Immediately, his eyes submit a powerful plea to you to keep schtum- it is written all over his face that he doesn’t want to let Frankie down. Not even in the smallest of ways.

Frankie would find his little error funny, probably. But he can find it funny after the ceremony. “Everything is A-OK! This guy? He has every single detail taken care of.”

Frankie grins, his eyes narrowing proudly at Santi as he slaps him on the back, laying profuse thanks on the two of you; then, he floats away again, as if on a cloud. Santi’s brown eyes are big with gratitude when you look at him again, and you can’t help but weaken. You’ll admit, it’s really not that bad of a fuck-up. Besides, you’re tired. Between the drive out here, the wedding rehearsal, and a never-ending list of errands, the day has been long. You just want to get to the room, and maybe even clock a snooze before the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Fine,” you agree, albeit through gritted teeth. “We can share a damn room.”

Santi looks visibly relieved, and squeezes your shoulder in thanks. You’d even been nice enough not to bite his head off. “Yeah. We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend.” Suddenly, he doesn’t sound quite as certain.

“Sure. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?” you smile nervously.

He returns your smile and swivels, heading back towards the desk.

“Oh, wait!” you call after him. “Is it a double or a twin?” you ask in horror. Sharing a room is one thing, but sharing a bed?

He turns, looking over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter!”, he winks. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna have to take it.”

Oh. Oh dear.

You’re inclined to agree -you don’t have many options- but when you catch yourself stealing a glance at the man’s shapely butt as he walks back to the desk, you begin to chew your bottom-lip nervously.

Right. Ha.

What could possibly go wrong?

**********************

It turns out, sharing a room with Santi is resoundingly not bad at all. In fact, at first, it’s as easy as everything else is with him - even between your hurried preparations for the evening, unpacking, shuttling items to the relevant members of the wedding party, and calling down to reception several times to check the logistics for the rehearsal dinner. Even getting dressed, you find an easy flow as you each flit in and out of the bathroom, dancing around each other with ease and only a hint of friendly bickering.

Santi’s respectful too- always knocking and announcing himself before entering a space, and averting his gaze when he needs to, given that you’re rushing around and undressing. You even manage to ignore the fact there’s only one bed for the longest time, parking that specific panic for later. Even then, he has already made reception send up extra pillows and blankets, forming a barricade in the middle of the bed so you two can comfortably separate.

Thankfully, you are so busy that the idea of sharing a bed with Santi doesn’t even cross your mind until you’re finally ready, dressed in your finery. When you step out of the bathroom, Santi -sat on the edge of said bed- stands up, thrusting his hands into his suit trousers as he takes the sight of you in, pulling the material taut -in a rather pleasing way- across his hips and thighs. He ends up slightly slack-jawed for a moment as his eyes trail over you, brewing with a gentle, self-conscious heat. “Fuck,” he says softly, his voice gruff. “You look…” a little gulp trails down his throat as you give him a little twirl. “…hot”, he says, his eyebrow ticking up on the last beat.

“Wait until you see my bridesmaid dress,” you smile, and he returns it easily, those gorgeous creases appearing around his eyes.

Unconsciously, you lick your lips. You can’t help but wonder, vaguely, what it would be like to push him down on to the mattress. Maybe straddle him. Fuck, you should have known this would be a bad idea. A heat rising in your face at that thought of that, you distract yourself by lifting his suit jacket from the back of the chair, holding it out for him as he slips it on to his shoulders, and feeling the luxurious texture of it beneath your fingers.

It’s a grey suit, tailored, and it hugs him in all the right places. The cool colour is perfect against his warm-toned brown skin, and brings out the salt in his salt-and-pepper curls, and in the rough rasp of grey flecked through his stubble.

You try desperately not to notice how good he looks, but this may be your greatest challenge yet.

“Come on,” you encourage, nodding towards the door. “We better head down.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, half-heartedly. The way his eyes are subtly roving over you, though, he looks like he has something entirely different in mind for dinner.

“You’re probably going to spend all night being chased by the single bridesmaids,” you add casually as you collect your purse, and apply a final dab of lipstick in front of the mirror. You’ve already clocked a few members of the wedding party eyeing him up, and you don’t exactly blame them for being thirsty. Besides, Santi is a huge flirt; so perhaps he’ll be the one doing the chasing. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended the night with his tongue thrust deep in someone’s throat, which -you assume- is typical Santi fashion.

“Isn’t it traditional, anyway,” he smirks cheekily, applying a splash of cologne, “for the Best Man to hook-up with one of the bridesmaids?”

Lord, does he have to smell so… edible.

“Got news for you, man. You fucked up. You can’t exactly bring a girl back to your room now, can you?!” you tease, nodding back towards your shared bed, a wall of pillows already arranged down the middle. You mean it to come out in good-humour, but you can’t scrub the hint of jealousy from your tone entirely.

You feel so silly for being jealous of whomever he may hook-up with. After all, Santi is always the one testing the boundaries of friendship with you. It’s not like he’s ever made a secret of the fact he’s attracted to you- and you are the one here will a firm line in the sand. A line you simply won’t cross with him. Can’t cross. You want to - of course you do, but after being hurt in the past, you have simply built-up far too many defences; or, more accurately, just the right amount of defences, you think, to protect you. So, no matter how disarming the man is, you simply have to keep your guard up; because if he breached your walls, you know everything else would come tumbling so easily down.

You had fallen so easily into friendship with him, and you are certain that you would fall just as recklessly in love with him.

You’re not ready for that.

You can’t take being hurt again. Besides; Santi? He’s an incredible friend. He’s tenaciously loyal and dedicated to his squad. But when it comes to love, and sex, you doubt whether serious is even his thing - and you’re too afraid to ask.

“You ready to do this?” he asks, with a wink.

“Yep,” you nod. “Let’s roll,” and with that, you turn, heading for the hallway.

“Princesa- that dress really highlights your ass,” he praises as he tags along behind you.

“Thank you, it’s true,” you smile devilishly, already beginning to let your guard down, just a little. He’s simply so disarming. “Speaking of, Garcia – did you get your trousers a size too small on purpose?”

“Oh, you noticed?” he retorts, smugly, guiding you through the door with a hand on the small of your back.

Okay. Sometimes you flirt back. After all – look at him.

Especially in that damn suit.

***********************************

The rehearsal dinner goes swell. Frankie and Mila are a picture-perfect, loved-up couple, and they grin their way through the evening as if they slept with coat hangers in their mouths. The speeches are well-received, including Will’s, thus setting a high bar for you and Santi tomorrow. (You may be biased, but Santi’s is ten times funnier, and it’s going to kill, in your opinion.) There are no dramas through the evening- logistical or familial, and thanks to you and Santi overseeing everything with a military precision, it looks as though -so far- it is shaping up to be the perfect wedding weekend.

Finally, once your duties are over for the night, you are able to let your hair down a little, so to speak, and enjoy the food and company on offer. Still, with a big day ahead tomorrow, things wind down relatively early, and -having lost track of Santi at some point- you find yourself back at the shared room a little while before him. You usually burn out more quickly than he does in social situations, but even taking that into consideration, you begin to fret about where he has gotten to. With the way he was flirting his way through the party, though, it doesn’t take a genius to guess what (or who) might be keeping him up.

You try to sleep but you can’t, your mind going to the worst places, so, by the time Santi does return -softly cracking the door, and padding in with his shoes in his hands so as not to wake you- you have stewed in your own thoughts long enough to have become a little cranky. A little… green-eyed.

“Hey,” he greets in surprise when he enters, immediately noticing the soft lamp glow, and seeing you still sitting up in the bed, mindlessly watching the flicker of the tv on mute.

“Hey,” you return, your voice noticeably strained. “Have a fun time?” You find yourself wishing you weren’t sharing a room, then you wouldn’t have to know what he got up to.

“Yeah,” he replies softly, slipping off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair. “Did you? How come you’re still up? Thought for sure you’d be wiped out by now.”

So, he did think of you, then?

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply neutrally, fixing your eyes dead ahead as he begins to slip out of his trousers and shirt too, until he’s dressed in only his tight black boxers. Next, he takes off his watch and sets it at the bedside, and you notice that he smells of perfume. A cloying, floral scent that makes you feel a little sick.

“Just gonna have a quick shower and then I’ll slip in with you, okay?” he says, his voice slow and deep and muted, matching the soft light.

You still don’t look at him. You can’t.

“Do what you want. You usually do,” you bite, the words tasting bitter as soon as they have left your lips, and tears of regret pooling as your anger dissolves.

You don’t blame him if he was with someone – you really don’t. You’re simply angry at yourself; because you wish you could be that person, and you can’t for the life of you seem to find a way.

“Okay. What was that for?” he bristles, reacting defensively, turning towards you. And perhaps it’s because it’s late and he’s tired, or because certain demons feel safer coming out under the cover of darkness, but he doesn’t stop there. Especially when all he gets from you is a stony, pointed silence. “You know what? Actually, no. You don’t get to do this”, he hisses, and it is the first time you’ve ever heard him direct any genuine anger at you.

It doesn’t half sting.

“Do what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“You don’t get to be mad when I give my attention to someone who actually wants it,” his voice is hushed, but his words rattle through you as if he had yelled them. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Guess what, I’m not yours.”

“That’s not fair”, you snap back, and then things are quickly escalating.

“Isn’t it?” he asks, rasping a hand over his stubble in distress. “I mean, come on. Shit. You know that I want more but I…” he exhales a disgruntled laugh. “You shoot me down, which is your prerogative, honestly, but you can’t have it both ways. You can’t knock me back all the time and then be pissed off when I look elsewhere.”

You meet his face, the planes of it shadowed and angled harshly with anger, suddenly so unfamiliar to you, and it causes your eyes to bloom with tears. You two look the opposite of Frankie and Mila; of a picture-perfect couple. But you’re not even a couple at all, are you?

You see him try. To blunt the emotion which is bubbling up. To soften. But he has uncorked something he now can’t put back in. “Fuck, I just wish that….” he pinches his lips together and shakes his head, planting his hands on his hips and looking at the floor. “If you don’t want me, just put me out of my fucking misery. Just say it. Just fucking tell me.”

Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the thought you make him miserable. At the way his voice breaks. At the way he thinks you don’t want him. Maybe you were wrong, thinking that you could be friends at all. Thinking that could be enough for him.

Your lower lip trembles, and your fingers clutch the edge of the blanket. “I… I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you that I don’t want you, Santi.”

You can’t because it isn’t true. It could not be further from the truth, in fact.

He puffs out air, an exasperated sound, his hand raising up to tangle in his grizzled curls. Raising his voice a little more. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me the other thing either?”

“I.. I..” You try, but no words will come. You simply shake your head, swallowing a sob, your eyes almost brimming over.

He nods. He nods, his mouth slanted down. “Great. Got it,” he huffs.

You hate this. You hate how much you’re hurting him.

“Santi,” you breathe weakly, but it is too weak to blunt the force of his emotion. To halt his trajectory, and so, resigned, he turns towards the bathroom, grabbing-up a fresh white towel from the counter. Before he closes the door, he turns to you once more, now speaking softly, his eyes as sad as yours. “You know,” he says, his index finger sawing back-and-forth over the stubble at his chin. “For the record, I wasn’t with anyone else. I can’t even fucking think about anyone else but you. I was late back to the room because I couldn’t face it.” His voice becomes small and pained. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just curl up next to you and act like I don’t care.” His eyebrow ticks up, and he adds, with a final flourish. “Guess I should have taken a lesson from you.”

Oh, how it stings, pain flowering in your chest like a bruise, but you hold yourself together until he’s out of sight. Then, when he’s gone, you immediately cave in on yourself, falling on to your side and screwing your eyes shut, clamping your hand over your mouth so that he can’t hear you crying as wet tears spill onto your pillow.

When he comes back into the room, after a long shower, you simply screw your eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. You hear him sigh heavily, and mumble something to himself under his breath, before dragging a few pillows and a spare blanket down on to the floor.

A few more silent tears roll over the bridge of your nose.

You guess you wouldn’t be sharing a bed with him after all.

***********************

You wake panicked in the night, sitting bolt upright in the bed. A cold wash of sweat over your skin chills you, even though you feel like you’re burning-up.

Immediately, you reach for him, for Santi, calling his name even as your fear strangles the sound in your throat. Your heart is thudding, and your breaths are sawing in and out of you, but your grasping hands find nothing to your side but pillows and blanket.

Unfortunately, you are used to this occurrence, and you quickly realise it was “only” a nightmare. Still, the feelings and images it conjured linger in your body, and around you in the shifting, seemingly fluid shadows of the room.

With a release of tension, you whimper, leaning forward and cradling your head in your trembling hands, and you try to ground yourself. To steady your breath and your heartbeat, like you’ve practiced. As you do so, the shadows to your left shift and change, and, even in the pitch-black you can feel him, a safe and warm presence, instantly travelling to your side, his weight dipping the mattress. His soothing, sandy voice filtering through the shadows and cutting back the tendrils of your nightmare like a Disney prince hacking through cursed vines.

You vaguely remember that he’s mad at you - but you can’t help it. Can’t help asking. “Hold me?” you plead, desperately afraid that he won’t.

Still, without questions or hesitation, you feel the wall of remaining pillows coming down, the defences around you quite literally being dismantled – a figurative wall between you shifting away along with it. He shushes you, and you focus on his voice, until he is close enough that the scent of him wraps around you, before his arms follow closely after.

You reach for him in return. You reach for him in every way possible.

“It’s just a nightmare,” he soothes. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you,” and there is pain in his voice on your behalf, as if he tries to bear the burden of it for you.

“Closer,” you plead, and before you know it, he is shifting you on to your side, slotting his sturdy yet soft body around you, not caring that you feel clammy and hot against his bare skin. He simply loops his arms and draws your back, closer to his chest, becoming your big spoon.

He calms you, hands enveloping yours and bundling them against your chest, his nose nuzzling into your hair, and his deep steady breaths slowing your breathing as you let his calm and his rhythms overcome you. He holds you, until the feelings pass, not caring how long it takes – and with any anger from before apparently forgotten.

This pain is all too familiar to him, you know. It something that Santi understands. It is your own and it is not the same as his, true, but you know it is familiar enough that he will feel the ache of it echoing in his own chest. You know that he is accustomed enough to bearing his own pain, that when yours is too heavy to carry, he will help you hold it for a while. And so, he holds you, while you are a tender thing, bruised and afraid, and he keeps you safe; with all your walls down, all of your defences collapsed, he becomes your fortress.

You never thought that letting yourself be so vulnerable could allow you to feel quite as safe as this.

As you lie together, Santi continues to usher soft reassurances into your ear, his words like charms and incantations to ward off the ghosts which haunt you. And, after a series of slow, stretched moments, you become more settled, and Santi feels you relax against him.

After a few moments more, he eventually whispers a small question into your hair. In the dark, the question feels safe to come out, perhaps.

“Do you always call for me when you…?” he trails off, thinking better of it. “I’m sorry- forget it, you don’t have to answer that.”

You don’t. You know you don’t. You don’t even truthfully know the answer. It’s likely that you do call for him, though how would you know, when you’re usually alone? But, there is something else you can tell him, while it is safe to come out in the dark. Something you want to tell him, before you build your walls all the way back up.

“Santi,” you begin, timidly, and his fingers skim softly up and down your arms, encouraging you to go on. “I-I’ve been hurt before. And, I want to be with you. I want to let you in but… I’m. I’m not ready. I’m trying so hard but I… I can’t.”

There is a long beat, and you realise he has held in a breath only when he releases it all at once, fanning hot across the back of your neck.

You are afraid. Afraid of what he might say, in response – what he might feel, but you think, maybe, it might be something like relief? And, Santi squeezes you, just a little tighter. A little closer. “Don’t worry about that now, okay?” he soothes, his voice feather soft. “Just… know one thing, okay, Princesa? Whenever you are ready? I’m waiting.”

This time your heart fills with a different emotion, all the spaces in it flooded with contentment, Santi’s words followed by a perfect, happy silence.

A soft smile blooms on your face.

It was not a confession of waiting impatiently, you understand, but an invitation to take your time to arrive at him. He’s not trying to bring down your defences at all, is he? He’s waiting for you to open the door, and invite him in. He’s waiting until you are ready. He simply needed to know that you are on your way, even if your footsteps are getting you there slowly.

For now, though, the thought of it is too much. More than you’re ready for.

So, you simply let him hold you.

To disarm you further.

To walk yourself a little closer toward where you want to be. With him; by his side.

****************************************

In the morning, you wake up tangled around each other, Santi’s arm wrapped securely around your back and your head settled on his chest. He is still snoring lightly – cutely - when you awake, and so, as the night prior comes flooding back to you, you hastily try to extricate yourself from him; even if his bare skin feels so good against yours that you never want to move. You’re apparently not so subtle- or he’s a helluva light-sleeper – as, just when you pull away, Santi wakes up, quickly rushing to prove his innocence.

“You had a nightmare,” he croaks, still trying to peel his eyes open. “You asked me to- “.

“-I know. I remember,” you reassure, sitting up in bed, the blankets tugged to your chest. Santi shuffles, opting to assume the same position on his own side, mirroring you, rubbing his eyes.

You’re still not sure whether to apologise to him or thank him. Or maybe even to wait for an apology from him? Christ. Maybe all of those things or none of them, who even knows? You mentally spin a wheel and land on a casual “Uh. Thank you, for…. You know.”

“Anytime,” he says, turning his head to the side and looking at you earnestly. As if your bickering -your jealousy and his outburst- is all but forgotten. What’s more, you know that he means it.

Admiringly, your eyes wander over him, enjoying a side of him you’ve never quite seen before. Apparently, he’s even more handsome in the morning, with an even thicker, darkened brush of stubble, his grizzled curls dishevelled, and his swooping eyelids still heavy from sleep. Combined, it gives him a sultry, bedroom look. Feeling an involuntary rush of heat in the pit of you, your gaze drops to his corded neck, where, given the special occasion, he has substituted his dog tags for a silver chain, drawing your gaze down over his smooth, brown chest.

Your skin now cooling in the conditioned air of the room, you long for his body heat again, recalling how it felt to be held by him and wishing you had lingered a little longer while you could. Even with your interrupted sleep last night, you have somehow woken feeling refreshed, as though you had slept unreasonably deeply in his arms, reaching a whole new level of contentment - as though you just fit together, perhaps. As though it comes naturally for you to be held by him, and for him to hold you.

There is a silence and it isn’t awkward exactly; more… pregnant, with possibilities. Possibilities you see brewing with a gentle heat in his eyes. So, tearing yourself abruptly away from that line of thought, you lift your phone up from the nightstand, and note that there isn’t long before your alarms sound anyway.

Operation Wedding Day is go.

That should be enough of a distraction for you, shouldn’t it?

“You ready for this, Best Man?” you ask him, with a gentle quirk of your lips.

“Sure. Are you ready, Maid of Honour?”

Ready. Are you ready?

Thoughts of last night swirl in your head.

Well – as Santi flashes you a tentative, disarming smile, with hooded eyes, you certainly feel like you’re getting there. Like soon you could be ready.

“Sure. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Atta girl,” he encourages, folding his arms behind his head as you jump out of bed.

You suddenly don’t care that you’re in nothing but your underwear, as you stretch out your body and track towards the bathroom. “I’ll shower first?”

“We’re sharing a bed,” he teases. “Sure you don’t want to share a shower too?”

You scoff, flashing a mischievous smile right back at him. You’ve always had a soft spot for his flirting, but you feel like -after all that transpired last night- you truly see if for what it is now. You realise why it has never felt like he’s pressuring you - not once. He’s simply reminding you, that as soon as you call for him, he’ll be there. That he’s waiting, when you’re ready.

Reminding you, that as soon as your walls drop, he’ll be your fortress.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get quite that lucky this morning, Garcia.”

You do linger in the doorway, just a little longer than necessary though, so that he can get a better look at you. He’d never look without permission – he proved that yesterday, when you were in various states of disarray- but this time, sensing your invitation, his eyes graze over you slowly, keenly. So, when he strategically moves his hands from behind his head to hide the tenting covers, you don’t mind at all.

You smile devilishly as you slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You’re not sure if he will… take care of himself out in the room – how could you know? But, feeling inspired, you certainly do so in the shower, and it’s a pretty great wake-up call before you face the wedding day.

Maybe sharing a room isn’t so bad. Maybe you could even get used to it.

*********************************************

Frankie and Mila get hitched without a hitch.

Santi goes to the ends of the earth to make sure that Frankie has the best day possible- and at some points, he goes even further than that. His speech was moving and flawless, and pretty fucking funny; even if you are a little (or a lot) biased. Not a dry eye in the house, just as you predicted.

The man adores Frankie with his whole heart, and you could barely hold back the glow of admiration as you listened to him, feeling like it might burst from your chest like a beam of gold sunlight. You felt it especially strongly every time his eyes met yours during the course of the speech, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself stupid each time he did so. And, of course, you were overjoyed to see your best friend have the day of her dreams, with the man of her dreams. If you do say so yourself, you think your speech was pretty killer too.

Suffice to say, you ate until your belly was full, loved until your heart hurt, laughed until your sides ached, and danced until your feet ached.

Tonight, unlike last night, you and Santi retire to your shared room at the same time, your arm linked into his, and your shoes carried in your hand to spare your sore feet – there’s a reason you never normally wear shoes like this. Without your heels though, you keep tripping over the hem of your dress almost every few paces, causing you to giggle and Santi to steady you with a warm, rich chuckle, sometimes throwing you an extra hand to assist you.

You look over at him, furtively, as he recounts some of the more choice moments from the day, immensely enjoying the simple pleasure of hearing him talk and smile and laugh. Seeing him happy. Of course, enjoying how he looks too, you have to admit - even more handsome than he did yesterday (somehow) in midnight blue dress pants, and a white, crisp shirt, now tieless. He’s only grown sexier as the evening drew on too, now with a wide open-collar and rolled up sleeves to accommodate all of the dancing; or, at least, as much dancing as his knees could handle, until he’d simply opted to sit to the side and watch you boogie, his eyes apparently transfixed on you and only you - the advances of the other bridesmaids be damned.

There is something that hits different about the way he looked at you today. His admiration shining deeper than usual. Less like a casual lust, and more like something… serious. You’re not sure why you doubted it before, exactly. Why you have been so inordinately afraid that he might hurt you. You broadly figured him for a smash and dash type of man, which is fine, but you have every reason to believe that he wants more with you.

After all, Santi can be deeply and tenaciously loyal. He has dedicated himself to things deeply and unwaveringly several times over in his life. To his country, to his missions, to his morals, to his squad. And there’s something about the way he looked at you today, you think, that suggests he might dedicate himself to you with the same tenacity. Something far deeper than appreciating how you look in this bridesmaid dress (and oh boy do you look hot). It’s more like the way he looks at Frankie. A little different to that, obviously. But you’re realising he looks at you like he’d never let you down. Not even in the smallest of ways. Like he’d rather go to the ends of the earth -or beyond- than do that.

At least… you think so.

You are sure about one thing though. The way he looks at you? It’s thoroughly disarming.

And so, you arrive at your shared room, utterly wiped out from the day (and night), yet still somehow buzzing with an energy. A gentle suffusing heat under your skin as you watch Santi walk inside and kick off his shoes at the end of the bed, before turning back towards you.

You have entered a few paces behind him, after nearly tripping on your gown all over again by the door, but now, you are quite steady on your feet - aside from that slight, nervous tremble in your quaking legs as he looks at you like that. As Santi looks you up and down, eyes skimming over the contours of your dress and hence everywhere it hugs your figure. Evidently, he likes what he sees.

“Wow,” he breathes, his brown eyes shining as if he’s looking at you for the first time that day, even if his gaze has barely left you all night. “I know it’s the bride’s day, but you look fuckin’ smokin’, sweetie.”

“You think so?” you ask humbly, suddenly feeling unreasonably shy. Flustered even.

“Yeah. I think so,” he nods, positively certain. “Shit, you’re so beautiful.”

You look at him. You look at him in a way which suggests an answer in your eyes instead of a question. A clear intention in your body, instead of uncertainty. But he doesn’t push you. He doesn’t assume. He doesn’t make a move. Instead, his mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile, offering you a lazy flash of teeth, and he shoves his thumbs into his belt loops.

“Well, we’re officially off the clock now, so I’m calling it. Well done, Maid of Honour. Think we nailed it? Made a pretty damn good team?”

A smile lights your face. You did. You flowed. You fit. It was easy.

Fuck. It feels so easy. Why had you ever thought this would be hard?

You nibble on your lip, eyeing him with intention, and a hard swallow trails down his throat in response.

“Off the clock, hmm?” you say breathily. “No more titles or duties? Huh. That’s a real shame.”

“How so?” he asks, his eyes devouring you alive, but his body fixed resolutely in place. Transfixed to the spot.

“Because it’s traditional for the Best Man to get with one of the bridesmaids, isn’t it?”

A slow, disbelieving smile inches over his face, and he looks at his feet, a little bashful. “Gross tradition. Kinda sexist,” he says, and your gaze fixates on his full, curving lips. On his hands, poised and broad at his belt.

“So, you don’t want to make out then?” you ask in your most sultry voice, mere breath.

The man huffs out a quick, broken exhale. “Fuck me. You know I do, sweetie. But only if you’re ready.”

Ready. Are you ready?

“Santiago,” you say, with conviction, your eyes dancing between his. “I’m ready.”

Santi searches your face one last time, just to be certain. He’s sure, of course – has been for a long time, but he needs to know that you truly want this. That you want this now. So, he looks at you, and he finds nothing but permission. Even so, after so long, he still can’t quite believe it. He would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe – or beyond – and, so dammit, he will ask you again.

“C-can I..” he begins, and his voice already sounds choked; hollowed out with need. “Fuck, Princesa, can I kiss you?”

Too long. Too long without moving. Without touching. Too long.

If you were suddenly ready, his kiss becomes even more suddenly overdue.

“You’d better,” you encourage, feeling like vapour. “Unless you want me to do it first.”

With permission granted, you expect him to be on you, with a surge. All at once. But Santi has been patiently waiting for you long enough. He can wait just a little longer, and, when he subtly tips his chin up, ever so slightly, and when he near growls “come here then, honey,” somehow, it is perfect. Somehow, it is a thousand times hotter that he makes you come to him.

You lift the hem of your dress, and you pad delicately towards him, feeling like you are wading through molten honey to get to him, the air thick and sweet.

“That’s it. Come here, baby,” he encourages, with a curl of his index finger beckoning you to him, his voice curling in the pit of you, making you feel weak in the best way possible. Making you feel spent before he’s even done so much as brush you with his hand or his lips.

You close the remaining distance with your steps, the anticipation too much, and your legs feeling so weak from the reckless lust and the light, liquid softness in his eyes. By this point, you are begging for his arms to reach out and clasp you- to hold you up; make you secure and safe in him. You are begging for his lips to sink down on to yours. But he makes you wait, through a few more slow, stretched moments. Makes you inch your mouth closer and closer until your lips are almost skimming his. He makes you wait until you are moaning his name into the air before he has even touched you.

“Santi.”

And, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that when you call for him, he is always there to take care of you.

You know he will take care of you.

With that, his name a plea, he swoops his broad, large hand up until he is holding you, his fingers closing around your jaw and your throat, trailing down your neck. His touch is painfully gentle, but in a way that makes you want him to squeeze, a little harder. In a way that makes you push yourself ever so subtly into his hand. A way that draws a silken moan from deep in your chest, and Santi is moved to dip the pad of his thumb into your mouth, where it meets your wet and willing warmth. When your tongue skims him, humming as you taste his saltiness, that seems to be the final straw, a wrecked groan sounding from his throat, and finally he surges on to your lips, leading with his tongue, thrusting into your open mouth and drinking down every sound and moan he can draw from you, his stubble rough against you. You don’t care if he leaves you raw.

It’s tender, and it’s gentle, but Santi knows all about control, and you can tell he’s holding back. His hands are lethal, and he knows just how to kill you softly; but, you are certain, that if you want more of his power, he’ll give it to you. That he’ll take care of you however you like.

So, he kisses you more deeply, harder, and you go near limp against him until one of his arms wraps at the back of your head and one at the small of your back, making you feel a feeble thing, waning in his arms as his large hands support you. Except; you’re not feeble though. You’re not by a long shot, and you know exactly what you want.

“Santi,” you suspire, letting him walk you back against the wall, pressing his bulging arousal into you as more wrangled sounds and little grunts slip from his parted lips.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, already sounding wrecked for you.

“There’s only one shower. Wanna share?!”

Even as he releases an endlessly eager, disbelieving breath, his eyes keenly search your face, checking you are ready. He watches, enraptured, as your lips curl into a deliciously sinful smile.

“You know. We don’t have to rush this,” he insists, even as he shivers with need, closing his eyes and biting his lip when you angle your hips to brush the tenting bulge at his crotch, ever so fleetingly, his hips bucking into you immediately in pursuit of more pressure.

“I know,” you say coolly, your body an undercurrent of frenzy, but your mind calm and sure. You push him back, with your palms to his chest, making room for you to about-turn into the bathroom, shimmying off your dress as you go and letting it waft to the floor like a sigh. Looking at him over your shoulder, with lust-blown eyes, you leave Santi stood there, entirely dumbfounded, as you reveal all of yourself to him.

You retreat, but once the water is running you call out to him, wondering where he has got to. “Take a hint, Garcia. If you’re ready? I’m waiting.”

And, he doesn’t waste another second before joining you.

THE END

(BONUS: Outfit inspo, if you wanna imagine him in the suits a lil better 😉)

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac

450 notes · View notes