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dearestones · 2 years ago

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A Risky Gamble (Yandere! Monaco x Global Superpower! Reader)

Warnings: Yandere character, yandere behavior, manipulation, Monaco knocks you out.

Anonymous Request: Could I have Yandere Monaco with a darling that is a global superpower?

You were a global superpower, one who rivaled other contenders like America, China, and the empires of ages long past. Like many other nations who either held your status or coveted it, you had went to unimaginable lengths to secure your place in the world. Often times, you had to stab another Nation in the back or subdue your neighbors or dominate the market with your presence. It took time, yes, but you were satisfied with the position that you had in the world.

While most of your peers either resented you or lusted after your power—often trying to cozy up to your during meetings—there was one particular Nation you couldn’t put your finger on.

Monaco was a small Nation who was only a mere Principality. While her significance had little to no bearing on you as a global superpower, you began to realize after several coincidences and run-ins with the French Principality that she…

She liked to look at you.

It was normal to feel everyone’s eyes on you when you presented during global summits. It was also expected of your peers to shake your hand or offer greetings as a way to solidify alliances or to maintain positive relationships. However, with the young female Nation, you couldn’t help but frown in curiosity. Despite her well bred nature, polite and refined, you noticed that there was more to her than what appearances may seem.

For instance, Monaco seemed to always be there in your vicinity. It didn’t matter how early you came to a meeting or how late you would stay, you would find yourself peering at the blonde Principality. Perhaps you were just overreacting? Surely there was a reason why Monaco always seemed to be around. Why, you’ve seen her with a sheaf full of documents and when you happened to overhear what she was looking at, you discovered that it was a recent proposal and a report on how well her government was faring! Despite that alibi, you grew wary of her.

Her eyes, bright blue and almost similar to France’s, never seemed to catch your eye. You knew her eyes were blue from past observations, but you didn’t think that she ever held eye contact with you, which was a shame because you felt her staring at the back of your head or at your side profile too many times to count.

A part of you should feel somewhat irritated that Monaco was paying you too much attention, but never venturing outside of her comfort zone to actually talk to you, but you were far more important than her. You held the power of a global entity. If you fell, the rest of the civilized world could just as well be next. And Monaco? She was barely a fraction of your population or your land mass. Who was she to pose a threat or an annoyance to you?

So, it was a bit of a surprise when one day, after a meeting that pandered to the egos of a few Nations that you would rather not anger, Monaco stopped by your seat, a tentative smile on her attractive features. In her hands, she held her briefcase, no doubt filled with notes about the meeting (sparse as they may be) and a little cardboard box of what seemed to be playing cards.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted. Her lovely voice was accented gently, but her diction was clear. Her posture, as always, was perfect, but her motives… You weren’t quite sure where you stood with her in this context, but you decided to humor her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Monaco.” You withdrew from your chair and began sifting all of your papers and notes into the appropriate folders. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You were curious, but you made sure to sound professional. Because of your status as a global superpower, you had become a target for either alliances or grudges among your coworkers. Small Monaco may be, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t have connections to those who might pose a danger to you.

She smiled a little wider at you before gesturing to her deck of cards. “I hear that you don’t have plans for most of the evening! How about a quick game of cards?”

You raised a brow. Out of everything that she could have said, that was what she wanted? Alarm bells were ringing in your head. If this were any other Nation—someone bigger, someone stronger—you would have instantly said no. Any other Nation worth their salt would use this as an opportunity to gain information about your military or news civil unrest. However, you were again confronted with the reality that Monaco was a Principality who relied on stronger Nations to survive. She was a tourist attraction, not some fear monger who wished ill upon you.

What did you have to lose?

You nodded your head and sat back. “Dealer’s choice.”

Monaco dealt the cards and the both of you began to play.

At first, you played games that had international acclaim. Eventually, however, you introduced Monaco to games that the youth would play in your homeland. Some of these games were more fun than the others, you have to admit, but Monaco took to the games with both ease and fascination. You attributed it to Monaco loving card games regardless of origins, but that glint in her eyes you sometimes saw… It had returned.

You would think with several losses under her belt she would be a little less gracious, but she seemed to take it all in stride. In fact, she seemed to relish losing to you. Her eyes were adoring and her smiles soft. It was unnerving.

After so much time seeing her in the background, it was the first time you saw her eyes up close. They were as beautiful as her closest neighbor’s eyes, but you couldn’t help but feel somewhat terrified that her full, piercing gaze was solely focused on you.

After half a dozen games and more than half the wins attributed to you, the thought of leaving finally came to mind. Well, you thought about leaving more than half the time, especially after realizing that Monaco was staring at you with such a strange gaze, but this time, you fully committed to a plan.

It was simple: all you had to do was tell her that you needed to go call another Nation for a private meeting and—

“Oh my, do you mind if you can help me carry my things back to my room?” Her tone was soft, but there was a darkness lingering in her gaze. She seemed expectant, as if you would immediately agree to her request. “It’s only an elevator ride and a short walk away. I didn’t mean to take up your entire evening like this.”

She bowed her head, abashed, but you would like to think that you saw right through the act. Still, though. She was small and powerless if you were to use your full power against her.

You would walk her to her room. Fine. That was okay. Afterwards, when you would be in the safety of your own hotel room, you would be sure to surround yourself with allies so that you would never be alone with the Principality.

The trip was short like she said. Unlike the previous interaction you had where the both of you were engrossed in playing simple card games, this time, she was intent on staring at you. Monaco though herself clever, but you didn’t have to check if she was staring. You simply knew. It would take an idiot not to realize that the burning sensation in their peripheral vision wasn't their companion glaring holes into their brain.

To your relief, her hotel room was just a few feet down the hall. As Monaco swiped her room key into the handle, you bounced back and forth on the balls of your feet, eager to get out. Soon, Monaco opened the door and ushered you in.

“Just put my bag onto the desk, please.”

“Well, that was fun.” You walked towards the desk in question, bag in hand. “However, I’ll be busy the rest of the week so I won’t be able to play anymore. Perhaps we can do it some other time? With a few of your neighbors?”

“That’s okay.” Strange. When had she crept up so silently that she was directly behind you? “I’ll make time.”

Before you could turn around and leave, you heard a whooshing sound and then—

You fell forward and everything faded to black.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

HETALIA AXIS POWERS/WORLD SERIES MASTERLIST

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fizzingwizard · 1 year ago

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Funny little thought.

From the time I was six till I was about fifteen, my family was entrenched in evangelicalism. From age 10, I started going to the school at my church, which meant I was inundated with religion six out of seven days a week. Only Saturday was free of it. And some days I would get religious lessons at school, go home, then go back to church, which was the school, for evening youth group and stuff. Looking back it just feels like a lot, but.

Somehow I still wiggled out of that mindset and I think a lot of my peers did too, tbh. After all, church is where I learned what different sex acts were and about homosexuality. Not from people saying how evil they were - of course there were plenty of adults doing that, but the kids were all totally unconcerned and eager to shock other kids with what they knew hahaha.

Anyway, there's lots I could talk about, but what I was thinking about today was pretty innocent effect of being required to think of religion and only religion as a valuable pursuit for such a big chunk of childhood. It was about music. I was allowed to read and watch anything that was age appropriate, regardless of whether it was "Christian" enough. My parents would have objected if there had been sex or homosexuality (or rather if they'd known there was those things >_>;), but for the most part it wasn't hard to keep those things private.

Music was different because I played it in my room. On a stereo. Without headphones x'D I did have an mp3 player which I took with my on walks, but the things I liked to dance in my room. Not conducive to wearing headphones. So I would blast music pretty much constantly when I was home. And my options for acceptable music were pretty much: secular music my parents had grown up with and couldn't see anything unacceptable in it, or Christian Contemporary Music (CCM).

Well, I didn't hate my parents' favorite bands, but they weren't very now. So my favorite musicians were artists no one but my best friend had ever heard of. He and I would belt their songs whenever we felt like it, so just imagine two nerdy kids biking up and down the road screeching "JESUS IS THE WAY THE TRUTH THE LIGHT" off-key because we keep going in and out of each other's ear shot xP

These were some of my favorite artists:

Point of Grace

Third Day

Avalon

Rachael Lampa

Casting Crowns

MercyMe

Skillet

Steven Curtis Chapman

ZoeGirl

Rebecca St James

Mark Schultz

V*enna

And so many more that I've forgotten. And I loved them whole-heartedly. I just went through the wikis for some early 2000s WOW Music CDs and literally my heart clenched with nostalgia seeing some of the song titles and artist names that I haven't thought about in so long. It brought back an era of my life that I feel so out of touch with now. It's not that I miss it exactly, but I suppose I miss that naivete and security I had at that age, which was mostly due to being a kid with a pretty decent childhood. It's similar nostalgia that I feel when I think back on high school, or non-school memories before that.

Music gets so wrapped up with memory that no matter what, I can't dislike these CCM artists. Nor can I forget about them. I still listen to a few favorites, especially songs by Point of Grace, which seems like such a weird group to become the favorite of a 10 year old, but me and my best friend were obsessed, like obsessed with them at that age. Bought ever album and knew all the words.

When I listen to those CCM songs now, as an adult, a lot of them don't hold up. We used to get told that "Christian content usually falls short when it's literature or movies, but music is equal to secular stuff." I don't think that's 100% wrong, but it's certainly not as clear a success story as we were told it was. My main beef is with the female artists, many of whom just leaned in so much on purity and abstinence, even while some of them pandered a lot to secular audiences. But it's not just the themes but the lyrics and music itself. V*enna, which as far as I know had only one CD, is just some of the worst music. I liked their album as a kid, but when I listened to it a while back I was just cringing. Really amateurish, so no wonder it didn't go far.

But there's a lot of fun to be had with CCM too, like Audio Adrenaline's rock cover of Little Drummer Boy which still splits my ear drums while making me ask "Why?" And there's the nonsensical conundrum of groups like Skillet or Creed, which some fans who only knew their secular stuff are stunned to learn they were included in Christian music stores. Or Jump5, a tween bobby group which sang about God, made money by putting tracks in Disney movies, and overall existed to make money.

Speaking of money. When I was fourteen, our youth group decided to start a band and I was a vocalist. The band only had one performance. You know why? The pastor at my church LEAPT on the idea because he thought we would get famous and... make lots of money for the church...?? Honestly, we were VERY amateurish, the lead singer I think was decent but very much did not want to be in the band long term, the musicians were so-so, and I was definitely so-so. But the pastor got involved and pressed us to be amazing and to have an amazing band name which I can't remember anymore and well we just flopped. None of us were into the idea but him. If he hadn't gotten dollar signs in his eyes we might've had a bit of fun, which was the only intention. But this was a pastor who was bent on his plan to make the church a mega-church and becime famous for his Idk pastor skills or whatever.

Back to music. So I do still love those artists from my childhood, regardless of how good they are objectively. But I got to wondering, what kind of music would I have been a fan of at that age (early teens) if I hadn't felt like secular stuff was off limits? I did somehow become a fan of Avril Lavigne and I am not even sure how that happened. One year my dad bought me Hilary Duff's first CD, which told me that he had no idea what my music tastes were or that we didn't even pay for the channel her shows were on so I didn't know who she was :P (But I appreciated the effort at bonding lol) That's much cleaner than Avril, at least.

Aside from Avril, I think I probably would have been a My Chemical Romance girl. Honestly, I probably would've been annoying into them if I found them at the right age. But I never heard "Helena" until this year. Fall Out Boy maybe, Green Day? Snow Patrol, Pink, Bjork, Nightwish are some groups I became fans of later, once I was out of the church. Best friend introduced me to Vienna Teng and Tori Amos. I like rock and metal now, but as a teen I didn't much, and I'm trying to think what was popular when I was in high school. I would go to the movies and not recognize any of the songs in them haha.

I just had the funny thought that I could have been so different as a teenager if I'd listened to different music... I bet I'd have been more emo or something lol. Idk, the groups that pop into my mind seem emo.

super nostalgia now whoa

/conversation with teenage fizz haha

#fizz's life #music

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cinemacentral666 · 1 year ago

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Richard Jewell (2019) & Spencer (2021)

Movies #1,067 & 1,068 • TWO FOR TUESDAY

In many ways, this was the perfect double feature: a pair of recent(ish) biopics made in opposing styles, one on a topic I was vastly interested in, and another which I wasn’t at all.

2019’s Richard Jewell by Clint Eastwood is indicative of his recent work: it’s competent and informative and just entertaining enough (though so visually flat, it almost has no style at all). And on the flipside, Pablo Larraín’s Princess Di Christmas movie Spencer is largely all-style (what substance is mostly imagined, fictionalized to the point of it being labeled a “fable” at the onset of the film). For the latter, I had to pivot about 45 minutes in and start thinking of it as a story about "a woman in trouble" (in the INLAND EMPIRE sense) and not a biopic about the Royal Family, which is just something I couldn't give less of a shit about. Honestly, on the "Less of a Shit Pantheon," they are at the very very top (or bottom feels more appropriate — this Pantheon is a pit and I've kicked this trash in it first). Equal parts insufferable and uninteresting, those blokes.

Though it was amazing how much drama they were able to milk out of a story which is essentially "lady doesn't want to eat dinner with her in-laws." And Kristen Stewart does (somehow) manage to transcend ‘Kristen Stewart doing a Princess Diana’ impression, which when you first see her on screen feels impossible. So, needless to say, I was able to enjoy this one much more than I anticipated at the onset. It’s well-acted and its lovely 16mm cinematography gave it a timeless vibe which really worked.

Conversely, my appreciation for Eastwood’s Jewell worked in a totally different manner. I was invested in the story from the get-go. I remember the Olympic bombing and subsequent hoopla surrounding the titular character but I was just a tween when it happened, so all of the details of this fascinating saga felt fresh to me. And I was able to overlook some of the bad writing (Olivia Wilde’s characters is a total mess) and stock pandering and/or exaggerated biopic stuff. Plus. Paul Walter Hauser is the real deal, and I’m not sure if the film would have worked at all with a lesser actor in the role.

SCORE: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (for both)

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theevangelion · 2 years ago

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Alpha Daddy: Chapter II

The days passed. Friday came quickly, though Lena wouldn’t tonight. A night to settle and adjust and see if things felt comfortable seemed more appropriate, Kara wanted to get all of this as right as she could.

Sunset this high up in the city loomed burned orange through the windows, felt aesthetically pleasing in a way that superseded Kara’s ability to string words and explanations why, but the place laid in comfortable disarray like a penthouse doing its best impression of a loft, there were books stacked everywhere, paintings propped and leaned, mismatching antique furniture and restored brass furnishings and all of it sat bathed in terracotta dusk. A wave of honey dulcet quiet in the air. A Friday evening doing its best impression of Sunday afternoon.

All the dust in the air sat trapped and visible like it should, like one expects from hot early Autumn evenings and homes filled with antique brass and mismatching woods overlapping, and so without words to explain why it was all so quietly clean and exactly as it should be, everything felt right regardless, and Kara’s anxieties unwound from the day and took their thumb off tight muscles in her jaw.

Kara pottered around Lena’s place waiting for her to reappear from the shower. She disregarded conversations several blocks away and sirens that could cope without her tonight, fully aware Alex would call if help was needed, half-suspecting that her sister actually probably wouldn’t call at all.

Thinking about it, missile silos could fire nuclear bombs either direction. Alex would still insist she needed some semblance of an ordinary, normal twenty-something year old life—girlfriend included.

So Kara stood there mindless and blank headed, in her girlfriend’s kitchen but out of her body, listening to the running order of cabinets opening and closing in the bathroom, a peeled banana in one hand and a glass of cold white wine in the other. She wasn’t convinced the combination worked. Another bite followed by a sip confirmed her hypothesis. It didn’t stop her, she nibbled and sipped, expecting a different outcome each time, then wrinkling her nose and slapping her mouth from the taste.

It was thick with heat in the air, the warmth kicking out from vents that left sweat prickled on her back and awkward clinginess to her boxers, but Lena liked the place stifling, liked the grey boxers and the shape of her shaft, the sway, the bounce, the absence of tight panties that smoothed and hid away a part of her body that, no matter how many times Lena saw, she always looked then looked again with wide eyes.

It was sweet. It was textbook adorable baby girl behaviour, a clinical symptom of Lena’s softest layers of subspace stirring and nibbling at her bottom lip and slippering pretty panties wet and damp. Lena never liked to admit it, Kara always asked anyway.

“You look so pretty when you squeeze your thighs together. Does it always make you wet, or only when I wear the grey ones?” Kara beamed with quiet confidence and all the correct answers in her back pocket.

“I…” Lena laughed nervously and looked everywhere and anywhere. “I just…”

The blush always went cherry-coloured, and Lena would stutter and stumble and get so embarrassed she couldn’t speak. Around this point, Kara decided it wasn’t adorable or funny and put her out of her misery.

“It’s okay if you’re shy with explicit words. You can just say you like the grey ones, baby.”

The pandering got to her. Kara saw it clear as day when Lena’s jaw went tense, tight and clenching. She loved being managed so softly, she hated being managed so softly, and while the war was going on within her brain, Kara often reached down and briefly stroked her cock over the material of her boxers—adjusting herself a moment too long to be decent.

Something would change in Lena’s eyes.

It wasn’t the same as heat, not even close, it wasn’t frantic or cracked or so desperate that Lena ever looked as though she were fighting against her skin. But Lena would exhale softly between her little crimson lips, then wind the corner of her mouth in her teeth, antsy and chewing and smirking into a primal subspace she felt inadequate and embarrassed about.

“Daddy I like the grey ones,” Lena always managed to quietly rasp the words out.

The rasp got Kara every time—shattered her each and every way. The husking, textured need in the back of her voice. If she wasn’t hard, which she usually already was, then the embarrassed little voice sent her up like a flare.

People rarely guessed her assignation right away—not correctly at least. Everyone had an opinion about that kind of thing, whether it was pertinent, whether it was important to conform and conduct and present. What was an Alpha supposed to look and behave like? She was polite and mild-mannered because that was inherent and earnest. It was Alpha to be those things because Kara felt the statement correct and true.

She didn’t bristle or flare her nostrils or speak crudely.

Except sometimes—usually in grey boxers.

There was something inexplicable about it. Lena would look at her, all green eyes and blushing cheeks, feeling things in parts of her body that she didn’t know how to hide or be discrete about despite wanting to be. Kara growled in those moments and felt her nostrils flare because how could they not?

Lena called her Daddy.

Game over.

No resolve or restraint or mild-manners to be found anywhere.

Daddy. Kara felt that word, felt it everywhere in her body, like all the dumbest stereotypes and cheesiest romance novels were scientific research studies. And so she would growl and clench and touch her like a woman, babytalk her like a little well-behaved good girl. Take her thighs back with warm palms and kiss her dripping cunt and swelling little clit, some nights, slip her tongue inside places that left them both too embarrassed to mention about the next morning.

She handled Lena in precise, dominant ways that were sometimes a little cruel and sometimes abundantly adoring and always so connective that, for days after, Kara felt if she were expected to present publicly in a way that accurately communicated her identity?

White sneakers and the crispest socks.

A baseball cap.

Her phone secured to her belt in a holster and her shirt rolled up her forearms.

Kara wasn’t sure what being an Alpha had to do with anything out there in the world, but it had everything to do with who she was in the small four walls and quiet warmth of privacy. She was Lena’s Daddy—that was that.

The shower ran, the water went in loud splashes off limbs and shoulders and edges of bones. Kara heard it and that was enough, she imagined dripping jet black hair and gleaming pale skin and damp clean freckles, and she smiled wider, thinking of all the places she wanted to kiss and suck and nibble in long trails going back and forth nowhere and everywhere. Little sensitive pink nipples that needed to be bitten and sucked too hard. Lena broke every time and whimpered through croaking rasps where her pronunciations usually sat prim and ladylike.

Kara loved it, loved touching them, loved the feeling of a warm nude body careening into bed on Friday night with a movie on the agenda, Lena’s lips coming up to kiss and peck along her jaw innocently enough, and Kara slipped her hand up a push-pulling belly and grazed fingertips over little puffy nipples that stiffened on her lightest touch.

“Daddy…”

It always came so shakily out of her mouth, so quick and responsive and desperate.

Kara would coo over her always, push her on her back, kiss little stiff nipples in a flurry of pecks and grazing teeth and swirling tongue. A bounce in her upright cock, it stiffened awake with rushing blood flow and webbing precum.

A shower and grower, Kara was humble about it, maybe only because she had felt so ashamed when she was younger. It wasn’t fun being a shy, awkward introvert adolescent with changes and development that sat so at odds with her demeanour. Her cock spilled out of her panties, rarely behaved, hung low and heavy and threatened the hem of her skirt with foreskin and accumulating inches she wanted to slow to a halt. It took time to be okay. It took time to know it was more than okay to feel good and care about girls feeling good, that she was capable of making them feel good. Kara got there, in her own time.

Older and alright with herself, Kara had ten thick solid inches that took up space between her slender legs and could not be avoided or glanced past. She wouldn’t care if she had five, but she had ten, and she wouldn’t push them inside Lena even if she did ask.

Even if she wasn’t a virgin, even if the stars aligned and Lena’s pink lips pressed open on the stretch of her reddened slippery gland, nudging at the little pristine hole, dribbling and webbing from the end of her cock with desperation to fuck the first blood out of her, Kara still would not give leverage and break her way slow and steady inside.

Lena hadn’t proved a heat and Kara would hurt her.

Not intentionally, not saviour-complex overanxious worrying, nor in some arrogant assumed way by virtue of her size and overbearing thickness. Lena hadn’t proved a heat and the little hymen in her cunt was rigid, tight and hypersensitive as a result. A single finger inside, Lena whimpered and winced in pain and puffed the kind of moans that had to be pressed against Kara’s pulse point in order to feel safe and grounded and okay.

If Kara pushed with her cock, Lena would break not as a temporary burning pain giving way to shared pleasures. She would squeal and scream and break the way a dress seam rips under duress and can never be whole or healed after. Kara would never and could never.

It would hurt Lena.

Gentle as she was, Kara made her take the steady slipping finger, hushed and cooed and told a woman four years older to be her brave good girl, relax her muscles then let her little cunt hurt regardless.

There was something about the tight oversensitive hymen barely stretching, sucking so tight on her knuckle that Kara could imagine the burning achiness with clarity. A sudden and constant shifting in Lena’s hips and legs from the pressure. A gasp and wince. An outreach of needy arms thrusting forward that needed Daddy, that slipped and clung tight on Kara’s shoulders.

There and then, Lena’s lips craned and pushed and pressed rapid moans and struggling whimpers into the pulse point of Kara’s throat. Sometimes, more often than she felt proud about, Kara spurted and emptied and glugged out a ruined orgasm that didn’t feel ruined at all.

“Daddy it hurts,” Lena croaked and moaned into her jawline, some nights that always led to ruined orgasms dribbling out of her cock. “Daddy it’s burning—your finger. Inside. It’s stretching and it’s making me sting.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No Daddy. No, you don’t—you’re not understanding. I want more?”

“Well you can’t have more.”

“Please just break it?”

“Break it? Honey, no, it will hurt you.”

“I’m not a silly little girl.”

“You don’t feel like a big greedy one. You really want me to pick you up and force my cock inside? You can’t even get your hand around it, princess. I would have to press you against the wall and slam at your little pinprick hole with everything I had just to break into your cunt…”

“Daddy. Daddy fuck please? You can hurt it. Kara, please—”

“No.”

The pressure alone from a single finger moving in and out, slow and careful and so gentle through her tight hole, had tears dribbling and strangled pain in her whimpers.

“Please Daddy?”

“Remember how much it hurt when I pushed inside your asshole? You begged me to fuck you in your ass, you begged for weeks, told me just how good you had gotten with your fingers, remember what happened that night?”

Lena’s expression slackened and her moans grew loud and close.

“Your head popped inside my bottom too fast, and it hurt and I couldn’t take you any deeper and started to cry, but you kept your head…”

“Kept my head where?”

“Stuck inside my bottom, Daddy.” Lena couldn’t remember it without a flood of arousal dripping her thighs. “You kept it stuck there and made me reach back and stroke your shaft until you came inside of my…”

“Your very pretty, very sore, very stretched asshole.” Kara could count her down like clockwork. “You cried like a little girl. Do you remember after I finished inside of you?”

“Mhm.”

“If you make me ask I will stop and put your panties back on myself.”

“Daddy kissed it better. You kissed it better and rubbed your finger over and round the edges, in circles, until I went to sleep.” The moans went high and warbly and gasping. “Kara please push inside?” Lena always tried one last time.

“No baby.” A little come hither and quickening on her clit was all it ever took. “Sweet baby girl. You look so pretty when you cum so hard that it makes you cry. See, you didn’t need more. You just needed to hear Daddy say no.”

Kara loved rewarding, loved kissing and sucking on little pink nipples, loved the way Lena trembled and rose up and wailed into the feeling of a suddenly lavished clit and French kissed cunt.

Daddy loved saying no.

Daddy loved Lena’s good, cathartic loveliest tears. The whimper when her sensitive little nipples were bitten a little too hard. The croaking, rasped and textured wail when Daddy bit harder anyway. The wide helpless arousal in her green eyes when Daddy twisted and pinched her nipples, cooing the little good girl, twisting and pinching past the tears, past the useless slaps drumming rapid and quick against everywhere and anywhere, focused only on the bucking little cunt lips grinding a puddle on Daddy’s knee until the request came.

Daddy loved saying yes too, sometimes.

Daddy whispered reassurance, permission and praise that swaddled orgasms into happy little baby girl tears and subspace calm. Daddy loved a sore, stretched and hypersensitive little hymen on her finger.

And of course, Daddy loved edging Lena’s pretty fat cunt lips, all swollen and spread and dripping the sheets puddled and damp, to then pull Lena’s panties back up too quickly and pat at her puffy little cunt twitches like she was a sweet, cherished pet, to then feel the frustrated tears dribble on to her hips with a lapping tongue and suckling mouth bobbing her straining cock.

The chastity belt would be on the top of the list of things she loved.

Kara knew it.

She heard the bathroom cabinets open and close. The deodorant. The faucet gushing to brush teeth and gargle. It wasn’t quick enough. Kara wanted to hurry it along and burst in and take her to bed like a little girl to be thrown over her sturdy, solid and strong shoulders. She wanted to be all the things Lena needed. She wanted to rub a nervous, push-pulling tummy, feel the lock click and the belt stay tight and secure on Lena’s hips and waist and denied little sex, smooth on her fingertips running each and every way along the steel straits.

She wanted to hush the inevitable tears.

She wanted to hold her close.

She wanted to ask, just to be sure, and then soften with relief at the inevitable answer.

“Feels good Daddy, I don’t want to take it off. It’s just different. It’s new and it’s a lot.”

Kara half-planned out the things she might say, probably would say, if the words came as she expected, and the moment felt as sweet as she hoped.

“It’s new and it’s a lot and that’s a big deal. It’s not chastity for denial baby, it’s for Saturday mornings curled up eating breakfast in bed and Sunday afternoons pulling my fingers down to your pretty parts at the movie theatre and…all of quiet, perfectly ordinary moments during the regular day that you can feel me there whenever you want to feel close and held…”

In Kara’s mind, she absolutely saw it as earnest truth.

It wasn’t a reason to avoid intimacy. It was a way to embrace it, keep it present and constant, find more reasons and ways to touch and be close and navigate what it meant to be intimate like other couples and yet, somehow, never intimate like other couples despite both craving it.

Kara wasn’t trying to be gross with her runaway thinking, she couldn’t help it, but she heard the faucet turn off and the running order of the bathroom draw to its end, and she tried to not be consumed with the wrong things—tried at least.

The banana had gone straight to her head.

It was the excuse in the absence of needing one. The one that made her laugh to herself. In her comfiest grey boxers and nothing else, Kara stirred back to life and topped her wine glass and poured one for Lena.

“Kara, baby?”

The bathroom door creaked wider, Lena slipped the towel around and Kara smiled at the way she smiled. Dripping black hair, gleaming skin, damp freckles and a thousand other perfectly good reasons to take her mouth and kisses in slow directions and lose herself in the little clean wonder of her girlfriend’s shape.

“Oh. You’re being naughty, uncouth and unsavoury” —Lena’s eyes flew open, then she laughed with the widest grin despite her exasperated and slumping posture— “Do you know how loud your dirty thoughts are? The neighbours complain, Kara!”

Kara snorted into the sip of her drink.

“Sorry baby,” Kara whispered with a smile.

Lena glanced to the empty waiting sofa then back to Kara’s eyeline.

“Wine and cuddles and nauseatingly sweet kisses over trash garbage television?”

“Afterwards.” Kara took Lena’s wine glass from the counter and carried it for her. “Bedroom first. I want you to be a good girl with an edged little pretty cunt under lock and key, and you’re going to be a good girl and take it like I tell you, Lena…” Kara stopped and turned her head as they stood parallel in the hallway, her voice as lavender calm and ordinary as it ever was. “I like it when you cry on my shoulder because you’re feeling things between your legs, baby. I’m going to love holding you tonight in your pretty little new belt and tomorrow I’ll take it off and suck the frustration from your little clit, and we’ll go for breakfast and talk about how it all feels.”

Lena stared like a lame rabbit in headlights.

“Daddy—”

Kara didn’t hang around for the conversation.

“Bedroom, Lena,” Kara whispered sweetly.

Read more, read all my things, come little one.

#supercorp #supercorp smut #abo #omegaverse #supercorp omegaverse #omega lena #alpha kara #daddy kara #lesbian daddy #dom kara #sub lena #d/s supercorp

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torterragarden · 2 years ago

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I see this complaint about sumo a lot, that it's Lillie's story instead of yours, and like that is very true it IS definitely Lillie's story, I just don't think that's necessarily a negative in the way people say it. I get what they mean tho. But I've seen people make similar complaints about swsh, saying that it's really Leon's story and I... don't really agree, swsh always felt to me like it belonged to the player and Hop. I do think Leon's role in the game is really interesting tho and I've thought a lot about the "it's Leon's story" complaint and why it's ALMOST right but still wrong lol

Leon really does give off Main Character energy which I think is very appropriate because he is meant to parallel the player, but I think the complaint can mostly be blamed on two specific parts of the game, one being the explosion in Hammerlocke, and the other being the second explosion later that also results in Dynamax Pokemon rampaging. These are both things that happen off screen. Both times Leon tells you "oh don't get involved in this, I'm champion I'll take care of it" and then he just goes off and handles it without you. yeah tbh I REALLY hate these parts. It's nice that Leon is trying to protect the kids, I like him for that, but I hate that it means I don't get to do anything while these exciting, plot important events are happening. They happen without me. And what makes it worse is that these two events? Supposed to be our build up to Rose being the villain, but because we don't get to see or be part of it, it kind of slips out of your mind as quickly as you hear about it, so Rose effectively gets no build up at all. And there's literally such an easy fix for this, you can still have Leon be like "no no let me take care of this" so he still gets to look heroic, but just have the player and Hop ignore him and investigate on their own anyway so we can actually see... anything. But anyway that's a whole other complaint lol the point is I do get why people feel like Leon is doing more in the story than them because. Well yeah, in these instances he is

And the kicker comes when Rose's plan is revealed, and it's to awaken Eternatus and make Leon catch it so it can be used as an infinite energy source. You know, the usual Pokemon villain nonsense, we've had dumber plots than this honestly lol. But yeah, Rose expects Leon to be the hero who cleans up his mess, and again this is more about Leon than it is about you, right? But the thing is, Leon tries to stop Eternatus and fails, he's incapacitated so you and Hop are forced to step in, you're the actual heroes here (with Zacian and Zamazenta) and despite how poorly this climax was built up to, I really like the idea here. You and Hop parallel Leon and Sonia but you also parallel the two heroes who stopped the Darkest Day originally and god it's so almost good lol. But yeah Leon isn't the hero in the end despite the feeling from everyone that he should have been

Leon is us, but he's a different version of us, a past version of us. I used to think it was pandering that his ace is Charizard, and like it is but it's pandering with a thematic purpose! Most of us started with gen 1 and like it or not Charizard IS the most popular gen 1 starter, Leon having one makes sense because he's us, just like his champion battle theme literally being the hall of fame theme remixed makes sense because he's us, but Leon's story is over, it's happened already. And you see this all throughout the game, you see it with Opal and Piers passing on their Gym Leader titles to Bede and Marnie, you see it with Hop studying to become a professor at the end, you see it with yourself taking Leon's crown and then Leon becoming chairman, it feels like we're seeing the end of all these characters' stories while ours is still happening. This WAS Leon's story, at one point in time, but his part is over and now it belongs to you and Hop

#sage speaks #swsh could have been so good if it was actually good #pokemon #champion leon

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discotreque · 3 years ago

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SNW 1.01: SNW

I really did sit there watching the first bit of the Strange New Worlds premiere with my arms crossed like a grump. I didn’t want to like it. I have never—and this is a thing you have to understand about me, as a Star Trek fan—I have never completely forgiven them for spending NINETEEN FUCKING YEARS doing nothing but prequels and reboots.

And I thought we were clear of that crap. Picard finally gave us post-Voyager stories; Lower Decks is, tbqh, almost everything I’ve ever wanted from a Trek show; Prodigy is turning out to be as much a VOY sequel as PIC is one to TNG. They even yeeted Disco out of the past. So leaving one foot in the nostalgia door felt, at best, really unnecessary, and at worst it felt like pandering to the grossest parts of Trek fandom.

Well, now I have to (a) put on my big-girl pants and admit that I was unfairly judging the show before seeing it, like a dumbass, and (b) commend SNW 1.01 for dragging me, kicking and screaming, into loving the hell out of it anyway, because I am FULLY on board with this shit. The trailer for the rest of the season looks fucking GREAT.

It was impressively less wobbly than a lot of “getting the gang together” pilots, and ultimately a fun, cute, exciting—and appropriately corny, heavy-handed, and slightly silly—Star Trek story… and oh my god, every single one of these characters is my new favourite??? I can’t even choose (it’s Uhura no it’s Chapel no it’s Ortega no it’s Pike no it’s M’Benga no it’s Una aaaaaaaa helppppp)

See you next week, with the zeal of the converted, apparently.

#star trek #strange new worlds #strange new worlds spoilers #(barely spoilers)#amy's episode notes #now i'm going to go take a nap

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silvia7272 · 5 years ago

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ML Salt ~ The Cardigan Story

This is based on a true story.

Honestly, I always remembered this story because it constantly made my Sister and Mum laugh when I told them I outed a liar at school by wearing a cardigan, they were so proud of me because what I did wasn’t mean and I wasn’t even doing it out maliciousness so I thought, hey why not put it in the ML universe?

This isn’t canon to my main series so no Rosina since there isn’t any need for her, sorry sweetie.

And since I doubt Mlle Bustier would never out Lila, I’m changing the teacher to someone who actually has a backbone.

Word Count: 2303

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

I know you may not wish to be tagged for one-shots, but I thought you might enjoy some salt I was able to come up with.

Also, I wrote this in one day so I’m extremely proud of myself.

***

If you told Marinette that Lila’s reign over the school would end over a cardigan, she would tell you you’re as crazy as she was about Adrien.

A lot.

But, she did just that.

She had to thank Adrien really, the ‘advice’ he gave her was what really pushed her.

She wouldn’t outright expose her, no, she had tried that before and look where that got her, near expulsion that’s what. And not one of her friends tried to stick up for her. She always remembered that glare Alix gave her, and since then she had been ignored, turned away by them.

Even after Lila came out with ‘the truth’ she was still seen as an overly jealous girl.

“Lila’s promised she hasn’t lied about anything else she’s said to us, it only acts up around people she doesn’t know as well, maybe next time, instead of being jealous you should give her a chance and stop being a baby. Girl this all could’ve easily been avoided if you weren’t so Adrien crazy”

Really? They actually believed that load of crap?

Whatever, Marinette was done, done with everyone.

If they wanted to show her how wrong she was then she’d let them wait until hell would frost over, because fat chance that would ever happen.

If Marinette was proud of one thing about her then it would have to be her stubbornness to get to the truth.

And she could be extremely patient.

***

It was just an average day at Collège Françoise Dupont. There weren’t any Akuma’s caused by anyone the previous day so Marinette was finally able to have a good night’s rest, something the exhausted teenager really missed.

She felt so re-energised she danced in the kitchen as she made breakfast without a care in the world.

Before she fell over that was.

“…Owww”

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want to be hurt before school hours, now just sit tight and I’ll get you something to eat,” Her Maman said. Marinette felt grateful. After breakfast, she gave her Parents a kiss before leaving.

She had loving parents that supported her every beck and call.

…Well most of the time, but that didn’t matter, she would never let Lila manipulate them ever, her Parents were off-limits.

By the time she arrived at school she was one of the first ones there, Nathaniel in the back drawing his comics, texting Marc as well, it seemed like he was in his own ‘do not disturb’ bubble. Max was talking to Markov about some new type of game, and Rose and Juleka were just cuddling.

She made her way to the back feeling a positive emotion before exhaling.

Because it was about to be ruined.

Lila walked in with Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side.

She was telling a story about her ‘one of a kind cardigan-

Wait-

“My Grandmother made this cardigan especially for me carving her signature on as well, it’s the only one in existence because shortly after she made this, she ended up being in a terrible accident that left her bedridden.” They pandered to her of course. But for once she wasn’t focusing on the lie but the cardigan.

Oh, Lila’s only gone and done it now.

“I’ve always wanted to wear it, but I didn’t want it to end up ruined by someone” Her gaze casually went up to a lone bluenette, but she really wasn’t bothered.

“Don’t worry girl, I’ll keep a watchful eye on your cardigan for you. Ain't nothing gonna come between me and my besties property” They hugged before sitting down in their spaces.

‘Oh my god, I have a plan’ Marinette had that thought circled around her head until break. It was all she thought of.

Mind you, she wasn’t trying to expose everything she’d done, just that one lie. And that would be enough.

As soon as the bell rang, she was ready, she gathered her stuff and rushed home.

And thank god as well, Lila would not shut up about that cardigan, through Literature, Science and PE, it was constantly my Grandmother made it for me this, it’s the only one of its kind that.

Ugh, she wanted to rip her ears out at some point but had to endure it. No one else was bothered since they all believed her, even the teachers!

Yeah, you don’t really need any proof if it was handmade, some of Marinette’s earlier stuff didn’t have her signature on, but still, it was the principle of the matter!

And she could right that wrong.

In her room she was frantically searching for that item as Tikki dodged different articles of clothing, one hit her as she wasn’t looking, and she was down for the count.

“Marinette what are you looking for?” Marinette paused to look back at Tikki before continuing a bit calmer.

“Lila’s been lying about that cardigan and this time I can prove it.” Her eyes lit up as she lifted a cardigan up from her cupboard.

“One of Maman’s friends gave this to me a few years back, it was one of the reasons I got into fashion because of how soft it is and I wanted to replicate that. Don’t you think it looks familiar?” As Tikki looked over it her eyes widened, she knew Lila was lying anyway but she had no idea Marinette had definitive proof of it.

“That’s the same cardigan Lila has!” Marinette nodded before wearing it.

At least it still fit.

“But Marinette I thought we were gonna take the high ground?”

“Tikki it's tiring having to listen to them being lied too. I may not want them to be my friends anymore, but I just want the lying to stop. If I go and tell them that she’s lying with this as evidence they’ll clearly see she’s lying”

“But outing her like that won’t make it better!” Marinette wished she could respond with ‘are you sure’ but didn’t want to piss the mini-god off.

“Fine, what if I just wear it until someone notices, that way I’m not actively looking to publicly shame her? Better?” Tikki gave a reluctant nod, she knew her chosen wouldn’t let up about the situation, besides this whole thing was really just pettiness, nothing too serious. If no one noticed nothing bad would happen.

“Bye Maman, bye Papa” As she began walking back, she grew a bit nervous with her plan.

What if Lila made a whole other lie about her cardigan? What if she lied that Marinette had stolen it out of jealousy and everyone would try to take hers? She’d have to run away and live with a secret identity, all before getting caught and going to prison, and she’d never have her three kids and her hamster named-

“Ahem Marinette, is thou there?” A hand brought her out of her trance

“Ahhh!” She waved her arms before composing herself and seeing D’Argencourt in front of her.

“Ah, yes Monsieur?” How long had he been standing there? How long had she been rambling in her head?

“As I was saying, these new garments of yours, where did they originate from?” It took her a while before realising he was talking about her cardigan, she was so used to wearing her jacket it felt strange she had changed.

“Ohh this, well it was a present from Maman’s friend. They were on sale a few years back, so I thought I’d wear it again” He furrowed his brow before telling her to carry on with whatever she was doing.

“Well, that was weird. Do you think he liked the jacket?” Tikki ponded as her head ever so slightly popped out the small handbag.

“He’s always been weird Tikki. But whatever, let's just get back to the classroom.” All she had to do was wait.

***

‘How the hell hasn’t anyone noticed yet?’ Marinette was secretly fuming in her mind right now. None of her classmates noticed the change in her outfit.

Not one.

Bustier did however, the bluenette was sure because she’d see her teacher quickly glance from Marinette to Lila but never said a word. Probably thinking of that whole, ‘be the bigger person’ crap.

And not even the excuse of maybe Bustier didn’t know, bs. By the time break happened everyone in the school knew about that damn cardigan so don’t get her started.

‘Oh well, looks like that’s it. My petty revenge came flat… At least Lila didn’t pull a Marinette ruined my belongings stunt’ That would’ve been the last thing she needed.

Knock Knock Knock

The door opened before Bustier could reply, a teacher would reprimand a student for this type of rudeness, but it wasn’t a student.

It was a teacher.

And it was Monsieur D’Argencourt.

‘What the-’ Marinette didn’t remember this part of the plan.

“Excuse me Caline, but I need to interrupt the class for an announcement.” Bustier was about to deny but D’Argencourt the stubborn teacher as he was, walked straight on through ignoring whatever Bustier would’ve said.

“Lila Rossi, may you please step in front of the classroom?” Lila looking completely confused let go off Adrien, much to the relief of the boy, and walked in front of her desk.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He didn’t need to repeat the command.

Yes, command not a request.

“Can I ask you where you got your cardigans from?”

“Armand, I don’t think this is appropriate-” He shot a glare back at the teacher.

“I can assure you this won’t take long if I’m not interrupted”

Lila looked over to Marinette and realised with a sinking feeling what was happening. But she would win this time. Just like all the others.

“My Grandmother made this specifically, you see-”

He held a hand up to silence her.

“Yes, that’s quite alright, and Marinette would you like to repeat what you said before?” As Marinette did just that Lila was seething, he cut her off. How dare that simpleton cut off Lila Rossi!

He would pay.

“Well, it appears one of you is lying, and I expect that person to own up to it now” The class gasped as they all looked expectedly at Marinette, they knew she was petty but to do this was so low.

Lila looked at her smugly, she had tried to play with fire but got burned in the process. How could she even think she’d get away with this?

“I was talking about you, Lila Rossi”

“Eh, what?” The class gasped as they tried to say of course Lila was innocent, Marinette was the one lying. Or that Marinette must’ve tricked him.

He shot a glare towards all the class members as they instantly shut up.

“I don’t remember this being a class discussion, if I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Understood?” They nodded before giving sympathetic glances towards the brunette, D’Argencourt almost had the urge to shout at their incompetence but alas they were kids.

“I can tell you why you are lying Lila, with a photo. But as I’m feeling generous, I will give you one more chance to reveal yourself.” The class was silent as they all looked on in anticipation.

But Lila stood her ground defiantly, as if he actually had proof-

Oh…

Oh no she’s doomed…

“Then I don’t suppose this looks familiar? Hmm?” On his phone was a picture. Lila immediately lowered her head, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

3 guesses of what it is?

No.

No one?

Too easy?

Ok, it was the cardigan.

And at a fairly cheap price. No wonder she had it in brand new condition.

“I first knew you were lying once I saw Marinette wear the exact same one, however, hers was clearly worn out, evidently she has worn it for several amount of years. You had already messed up when you said it was the only one made. So please…” Lila looked up to see D’Argencourt giving one of the most frightening glares of the century.

“Don’t ever lie about anything to my face or anyone ever again, you will be court out and I will be keeping an eye on you. Is that final?” She meekly nodded her head, trying to give a frightened appearance to make him have sympathy but he was immune.

“That will be all. I hope your class has learned a valuable lesson of not taking things at face value” And with that, he left. Leaving Marinette with a different impression of her PE teacher, it seemed he didn’t like liars all that much.

Marinette smiled, her plan worked, and she didn’t even out her herself. Tikki surely can’t be mad at her now.

Bustier tried to get the class to go back to normal but she couldn’t. The class erupted into a screaming fit, asking how Lila could lie about that sort of thing?

It wasn’t until someone unexpected said the next few words she wondered if this was a dream.

“Hey if Lila lied about this what else did she lie about? She even said herself she doesn’t lie to her friends but that was a lie” That made the class tick as they soon realised and soon torn into her about it.

Leaving Lila, a ‘sobbing mess’ on the floor. All before she stopped that fake display and arguing back.

But the one who said that…

Was Adrien.

He was able to slip by the crowd and stand next to Marinette.

No words were said, she knew what he would’ve said even without the noise.

‘I’m sorry’

It was a start, and maybe through time, she could start trusting again.

But for now, she just wanted to enjoy this chaos…

Before there was an Akuma alert.

***

I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt. I probably screwed his speech but oh well this is salt, doesn’t have to be accurate.

Phew, hope you enjoyed it, sorry its shorter than the others but this happened when I was in Year 5 and I was 9/10 years old. Woo 10 years ago, god that makes me feel old. Also, not everything was exactly this way, the teacher did out the person in front of the whole class, but she admitted it and went back to her class, we had two classes for maths. Anyway, I actually have to give Lila credit compared to the liar we had at our school, this person actually knew I had that cardigan and actually complimented me on it like months earlier and still had the audacity to say that. I think that’s the reason why I think if I was in their world I wouldn’t believe Lila because I already had a Lila at my school who would always say they’ve done the exact same thing as we had (They even said they had the same Aunt as me living on the same street, crazy right). Mind you they never said anything to me, I think they were too embarrassed plus, I was a goody little two-shoes there.

Anyway I really hope you enjoy it and if you like real-life stories so much I can always try to ask my friends for more ideas, I did have like some slightly toxic friends there that I may be able to tell you about but I’ll try to think how later.

Cya next time.

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rainbuckets8 · 4 years ago

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Why you should watch RWBY

TL;DR:

Summary: RWBY is an epic fantasy with themes like found family, the struggle to remain hopeful, the younger generation growing up, villain redemption, and systemic evils.

Strengths: RWBY has unique and memorable characters. The show is smart. It has excellent cinematography and animation. It has representation. It tackles hard topics. It’s got incredible music and it’s free on RT’s website.

Weaknesses: RWBY has some early growing pains, specifically volume 2’s finale, as well as budget and polish. Later on, volume 4 is weaker than the rest. Volume 8's finale is extremely distressing for a lot of viewers (and we haven't seen the follow up to those events yet). The fandom can be bad at times.

Misinformation: The early volumes being bad, the racism plot line, and the animation (not the same as “budget and polish”) are not as bad as you may have heard from YouTube.

Suggested viewing order

Red Trailer, White Trailer, Black Trailer, Yellow Trailer

Volume 1

Volume 2

Volume 3

Volume 4 Character Short

Volume 4

Volume 5 Weiss Character Short, Volume 5 Blake Character Short, Volume 5 Yang Character Short

Volume 5

Volume 6 Adam Character Short

Volume 6

Volume 7

Volume 8

(I did my best to make this spoiler-free. When there are spoilers, they’re worded ambiguously enough that someone new to the show would never guess what’s going to happen just by reading this.)

What to expect

The world of Remnant is filled with monsters called the creatures of Grimm. Warriors called Huntsmen and Huntresses defend humanity. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang go to school to become the next generation of heroes. Together they make Team RWBY (pronounced, “Ruby”)! Joining them is team JNPR (“Juniper”), made up of Jaune, Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren. But evils even more dangerous than the Grimm are ready to make their move, and school quickly becomes an afterthought…

(I mention these next two topics specifically bc they can immediately turn someone away based on bad expectations.) There is a fantasy school setting, but RWBY is not a show about school. School topics are not a dominant idea: it seems to resemble a setting like Harry Potter, but the actual focus of the show rarely touches on things like classes or homework or tests, and we quickly move on. There is romance and it has a role in the plot, but RWBY is not a romance show. On the scale of romance in FMAB to She-Ra, RWBY falls somewhere in the middle.

What is RWBY about, then? RWBY is like an epic fantasy or high fantasy, despite first appearances. Perhaps not every genre convention is followed, but at its core, RWBY is about an epic struggle of good and evil.

RWBY contains themes such as found family, the struggle to remain hopeful, the younger generation growing up, villain redemption, and systemic evils.

Strengths of the show

The characters are unique and memorable. One of the cool things is that they all draw inspiration from a real life fairy tale, myth, or something else. They designs are all top notch. One character who died with extremely little screen time even got so much fandom love, they included the character in a mid-hiatus short later. The characters have unique weapons, too; in the world of Remnant, a weapon is an extension of ones’ soul, and they reflect the variety of their owners. They’re also just plain cool; Monty was famous for following the “Rule of Cool.” And their individual stories are all compelling and interesting.

The show is smart. As a fandom, we generally pick up on the narrative hints the creators are dropping. And our predictions usually come true, but not in a way that makes the show predictable and boring. We very rarely guess exactly what will happen, but we have some similar idea of it. It’s just excellent foreshadowing.

RWBY also likes to play with tropes, as an extension of this. Often it will challenge them, or subvert expectations. In other cases, RWBY uses tropes to avoid showing us what we already know will happen. This occurs in both characters and plot. For example…

SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR VOLUME ONE FOR THE REST OF THIS PARAGRAPH: Jaune’s entire character arc is about trying to be the anime protagonist, and learning that he doesn’t have to do things alone, and it’s ok to be a support main. The show sets up the narrative in a way that looks like, oh of course the direction it will go is him becoming the main character, but then it destroys toxic masculinity instead.

Our characters are smart, too. Plot-induced stupidity generally doesn’t happen. (A few big mistakes or errors in this regard aren’t actually the fault of the narrative, either, but animation and miscommunication and failure to execute. And those aren’t common.) It goes beyond just “not being dumb,” however. The villains’ plans are incredibly clever, and our heroes sometimes even guess at the usual “plot twists.”

The cinematography is just incredible. There are numerous freeze frames with extreme attention to detail that reveal character motivations or arcs or foreshadowing, there are many effective cuts and moving parts, there are soooo many parallels and callbacks, and visual cues such as lighting and color all are used appropriately to convey emotion and assist the narrative. It is one of the biggest overlooked strengths of the show, imo, simply because a lot of people in the fandom don’t notice these things as much for whatever reason, or else don’t give as much praise about them.

The animation is extremely good as well. Budget issues and technology issues aside (which means a lack of polish), the actual animation? The fight choreography, and all the other parts of animation that aren’t just “expensive CGI” are all wonderful. You can have very shiny, polished turds after all, and RWBY is like the opposite: not very polished, especially early on, but very well animated. All the trailers, volume 1 episode 8, the volume 1 finale, the volume 2 penultimate episode, and basically everything else hold up extremely well even today. If anything, the worst fight animation was in volumes 4 and 5 because of Maya growing pains, and those are an example of being more polished, but not necessarily better animated. Animation of faces has always been good, animation of characters has always felt lively. Aside from a few small actual hiccups (that one person running across rooftops for instance), it’s well done.

There are LGBTQ+ characters. The treatment of one of the recent trans characters, in volume 8, was nothing short of amazing. They worked with a VA who was trans. The moment of canon confirmation was important to the character for backstory, because of course that affects the character’s life, but not the only important thing about the character. The representation is not in-your-face or pandering. And there is a split of representation among the main cast and the minor characters, with promises of more to come (notably they’ve said they’re working on more mlm for future volumes, too).

RWBY is not afraid to tackle hard topics. It deals with things like mental illness, systematic racism, and cycles of abuse. It’s not because the show is trying to earn “gritty and dark” points, it’s because those are some of the topics that real people have to struggle with as well. And the show handles most or all of them very well, in a way that shows respect and an honest attempt to depict these things as best they can. (NOTE ABOUT VOLUME 8: THERE IS A VERY DIFFUCLT CONVERSATION CURRENTLY HAPPENING. I am on the side of, let’s wait and see what happens next because the story isn’t over, so we haven’t really seen the fall out. But I understand why this paragraph feels really difficult to agree with if you've seen the volume 8 finale. I trust the track record of the rest of the show, personally.)

As an example, the show has a theme that villains are rarely evil just because. A lot of villains choose to do bad things because they were hurt in some way. Some lived in poverty; some were hurt by racism; many of them are victims of abuse. But the show doesn’t make excuses for them. It’s possible to be both sympathetic and still choose evil over and over again (that’s called tragic). The ones who eventually do try to do good again are not always forgiven, either.

The music is amazing. I can probably count on my hands the number of times I’ve heard someone say otherwise, which is astonishing when you consider this fandom.

It’s also free on RT’s website. (A paid, “FIRST” subscription removes ads and lets you see new episodes one week early, but they all eventually release for free.)

Weaknesses of the show

Early volumes’ growing pains exist, much like most or all other shows. (Even some of the greatest were not immune to this, like ATLA.) In this case, however, it’s a little bit rougher. A large reason why is that this was kind of the first big thing from RT to ever come out. If you remember back almost a decade ago, their only other big thing at the time was RvB, which was machinima. They pretty much started from scratch with everything, from assets to VAs to animation to writing. Imagine if a random twitch streamer, like Ninja (idk who’s popular these days) said one day, “OK let me just direct something that’s intended to be the next great movie series of all time, like Star Wars, with a $4 bill and an iPhone camera.” Then went out and actually made something. Of course it would be rough…but then it turns out the movie is actually really good. And then you get to watch over the next several years as everything gets better and better until it’s honest-to-god comparable to the MCU. That’s kind of what happened with RWBY.

One specific growing pain was the volume 2 finale. Pretty much everything else up until that point, I love about the show. But the finale just fails to deliver on the build up of tension from other episodes. Some of it is because of later plot developments that we didn’t know at the time; some of it is because of just not great writing; some of it is because of just not great animation; and yes, some of it is budget. Regardless, it’s a low point for the show.

Speaking of, the budget for the early volumes is super small. The infamous volume one shadow people, the infamous person jumping across the rooftops in volume two, and just production quality isn’t high compared to a major release from some established studio. These are real weaknesses of the show that for some people, make it unwatchable, and if that’s you, that’s ok.

One last weakness of the show, the screen time per episode, especially early on, is NOT a full 20 minutes like you may expect of an anime (or anime-inspired-western-media, for those of you who will die on the “RWBY is not an anime” hill). This is a trend that has stuck with the show, a shorter run time per episode, for generally the entire lifetime. On one hand, it means it’s a little less daunting to catch up or rewatch than the number of episodes might imply. On the other, early on, some episodes have a little weird pacing. It also means the writing had to adjust for this, so while RWBY got really good at telling a story within a shorter amount of time, there’s also challenges with that too. Perhaps one of the notable ones is the pacing, with slower moments sometimes feeling like it takes up too much screen time, or not enough. Volume 4 was a particular struggle for the crew, both because they switched animation engines and also for the story.

Common complaints that I don’t agree with

I don’t agree that the early volumes were actually bad overall. Growing pains, yes, but not bad. I attribute that complaint to overly focusing on one character’s storyline, back when it wasn’t clear there was so much more to come and before people realized the show would challenge the tropes instead of falling into them. It’s pretty much just volume 1 when people say this anyway, most of them I’ve heard admit that volume 2 was a lot better (except the finale) and almost everyone loves volume 3. And looking back on it, I do think volume 1 holds up.

Tying into this, the racism plot line is another common complaint. I don’t think it’s actually executed quite that badly. I think it makes sense for there to be regional differences in the amount of racism we see, it just so happened that we only saw a very small and isolated environment, Beacon, for much of the early volumes. (Incidentally, that’s actually similar the environment I myself grew up in.) It’s not perfect, though. But there’s no doubt that the later volumes do a better job portraying this. Again, I attribute it mostly to people not knowing how long the show would run for at the time, so of course if that’s all we saw, it would’ve been bad. But it’s not. I have a lot of respect for Miles and Kerry for even attempting to handle the racism topic in the first place. And for the faults that DO exist in this plot line, I credit them for learning and growing past that too, and doing better in later volumes.

The animation is not bad. I’ve already touched on that earlier, but people confuse “budget and polish” with “animation.” Give me RWBY any day over Michael Bay’s Transformers: no matter how much polish those robots have, they’re still a confusing mess to try and follow. And the polish isn’t even an issue once we get past the growing pains of Maya and get a bigger budget, because wow does this show look good now.

Between these three complaints I hear about often, I think those are the biggest ones. And they’re all generally done in bad faith, based not on just those but on other more provocative statements people also make with them. That’s part of my issue with the fandom, specifically the vocal but small parts of the fandom, because they’re just repeating these things from early days that aren’t true. But YouTubers gotta get those rage and hate clicks somehow, right? Unfortunately it discredits the show a lot and influences other people’s opinions into not giving it a fair chance, because it’s become a narrative of “RWBY IS BAD” when they all won’t shut up about it. So yeah, fandom can be bad, join at your own discretion. (Of course, all fandoms have annoying parts, and my interactions with the fandom have been good overall, otherwise.)

Onto other complaints, some say the cast is bloated. I don’t agree, but I don’t think this one is in bad faith. I think we get the important characters as much screen time as we can, and the minor characters don’t actually detract from that; one of the differences between good minor characters and bad ones, is that bad ones take up too much time. RWBY has a ton of characters but many of the minor ones don’t actually take up too much time. So it appears bloated, but actually I don’t think it is.

Finally, a small word on the no-no topics. Adam, and Monty. Adam is like the champion of the Monty topic. Which essentially boils down to “Miles and Kerry are ruining Monty’s vision for the show.” Toxic fandom is truly awful and I have no respect for anyone who says anything like that. Shame on all of you. This isn’t really anything negative about the show, but the fandom, and tbf all fandoms have toxic parts. But toxic fandom can be a real and valid reason to not watch a show. Thankfully they seem fewer in number these days, but I think they’ve evolved into hiding behind other characters or topics, so you know. Beware. Again, it's not too hard to avoid them or block them, and my interactions otherwise with most fans have been good.

#rwby

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aiyassalt · 4 years ago

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Claudia’s Character Assassination

This post is a follow up on my recent Claudia hot take in which I state that Claudia was another character intentionally ruined and demonized by the writers (not unlike Viren) for the sake of shipping.

I know what ya’ll are thinking: I’m just being a butthurt Claudia stan, but based on recent discoveries (such as a certain article from Polyon), I’m (mostly) making a case based on facts.

“Whoawhoawhoawhoa, aiya?” you cry. “Don’t you think you’re being ridiculous and going a bit too far with your Rayllum hate?!”

Au contraire, my friend, I’m not. An article published by Polygon in the last year (yes, I know. I’m late but whatever) came out and confirmed a few facts:

Callum/Claudia were supposed to be endgame or at least canon.

Rayllum was never in the cards, but the writers, supposedly claim that they decided to switch things up during the storyboarding phase for S2.

“The Callum-Rayla romance sparked in a moment during the storyboarding phases of season 2, when the pair sat down for a heart-to-heart. A lingering glance on Rayla’s part prompted the writing team to consider the potential of the duo, and they continued developing it through the rest of season 2.”

However, further along in the article, the writer talks about how the staff are completely aware of fandom happenings and have developed a…”strategy” concerning fandom.

“The Dragon Prince writing staff are aware of the possible relationships their fans are hoping for, say the creators, and “good ships and trash ships” are a source of constant chatter and scrutiny in the writers’ room. After a season 2 creative retreat, a gallon of corn oil inspired writer Neil Mukhopadhyay to put a name to those moments that leave a bit too much room for romantic possibilities. “Shipping oil” became the go-to slang for when scenes felt slathered with dialogue or character blocking that could send the wrong message.”

So, it starts to become clear that Rayllum didn’t happen because the writers had a lightning bulb moment and realized it “made sense.” It has everything to do with trying to appeal to the fanbase’ wants and ideas of “appropriate” ships.

“Okay,” you say. “So the writers decided to make the juggernaut canon to make fans happy. So what! What’s the big deal? What does this have to do with Claudia?”

It has a lot to do with Claudia (and to a lesser extent, Soren) and it explains why the writing for her character in S3 felt incredibly off and dismissive for her. The writers talked about “shipping oil” for certain pairings and being concerned about “sending the wrong message.” What if the writers decided to possibly tone down certain shippy scenes? Or even go further and decided to cut out scenes or even rewrite certain character arcs to:

Accommodate the sudden pro-Rayllum direction they pushed the story towards and not threaten their endgame ship?

Make the Rayllum fans feel better and more confident about their OTP rather than feel insecure and threatened by “trash” ships getting an upper hand?

LBR, as much as Rayllum like to deny it, they’re not that secure about their ship. It’s why we see a portion of Rayllum fans continually bashing Claudia. Why, throughout S2, we started seeing an uptick of Rayllum fans calling Callum/Claudia problematic and/or abusive (no, I’m not joking or hyperbolizing; this actually happened) and trying to frame Soren/Rayla as “p*dophilic”.

Think about it. S3 seems like it was written by a Rayllum fan with a (“hidden”) hate for Claudia. We never get to hear exactly her own thoughts about her father and her moral choices in S3. We don’t see her worrying and reeling with guilt over Callum and Ezran falling out with her. The girl we see clearly crying after telling Callum the truth about his dead father is suddenly not concerned about her childhood friends being in Xadia while she’s hearing rumors about Xadians possibly prepping for warfare. We witness Callum showing a baffling lack of concern for Claudia, a character who is supposed to be not only his childhood crush, but his childhood friend staying with her father who Callum acknowledged as someone who has changed for the worse (according to the books). We get Nyx, a Skywing elf who possibly has never been in contact with humans, acting like a straight-up in-canon Rayluum shipper and being fine with a Human and Elf being in love rather than being disgusted. I would continue, but I don’t want to make an incredibly long post.

And LBR: if Claudia (and Soren maybe) went with Callum and Rayla in S3 or S4, there would be trouble in paradise for the Rayllum ship and present more nuanced writing. Besides Callum x Claudia and Soren x Rayla having more chemistry than Rayllum, Claudia and Callum have more in common than Callum and Rayla do. And Soren and Rayla serve as better foils for one another and share more parallels together. Both Callum and Claudia are interested in magic, books, art, and history, had to serve as parental figures for their siblings, and are crafty and adaptive wildcards. Meanwhile Soren and Rayla are the youngest members of their individual organizations, good warriors who balance out each other’s weaknesses, and possess a lot of determination and ambition to prove themselves to their parental figures.

Imagine Soren and Rayla bonding over parents disappointing them and putting a lot on their shoulders. Imagine them confessing they have no idea what they want to do in life, and were put on their current career paths due to societal expectations. Imagine Claudia and Callum having a couple of tense moments due to her lying and trying to capture Zym, but eventually reconciling (basically, a gender reversed Zutara arc). Imagine Callum showing Claudia his Sky Magic moves and revealing it is possible for humans to do Primal Magic without needing a Primal Stone. Imagine Claudia then deciding to embark on training and dedicating herself to learn specific type of Primal Magic (such as Water or Moon, or even Earth) with Callum’s help. Imagine Callum and Claudia deciding to go on dates that also function as research trips to explore ruins and to discover the truth as to why and how the myth that humans can’t do Primal Magic was perpetuated. Imagine Rayla and Claudia’s initial interactions being full of hostility due to their past experiences and Claudia being a Dark Mage and Rayla going on a self-righteous anti-Dark Magic rant only for Claudia to break out of her typical goofy and upbeat persona and bring up the history of humans in Xadia and point out the birth of Dark Magic has nothing to do with humans wanting to kill creatures for the shits and giggles, but for survival and fighting against oppression. And as a result, Rayla actually undergoes actual character growth.

The scenarios I’ve described here sound 100x more interesting than the Rayllum Drama Desert mess. I’m also absolutely positive that they would absolutely make certain characters as more sympathetic (such as Viren, especially if Claudia defends Dark Mages), put a dent in Rayllum’s popularity and Rayla’s Perfect Waifu status and drive the Rayllum fandom bonkers. And the TDP writers knew it, which is why Claudia and Soren were given the arcs they have in S3.

I will never be over how Claudia was sacrificed at the altar of fandom pandering, and most of the fandom waving it off because, whatever, she’s no longer in the way and she’s an icky teenaged girl. Never. A refreshing character like her didn’t deserve the treatment she’s gotten thus far and will continue to get if the writers insist on pandering to vocal fan factions. Shame on the TDP writers for making such an ignorant, amateur, and disastrous move.

#tdp critical #anti rayllum

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

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The Mettle Of A Man; Part Nine

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Paladin Danse had felt like the husband in one of those pre-war picnic advertisements the whole damn evening. After helping Codsworth carve the roast, the large man had assisted Backhand in making up plates for everyone. Roasted carrots and mashed gourd made their way onto the plates as well before the Longs had shown up to sit at the rickety old picnic table. It was a bit like taking a shift in the mess hall, though it had been several years since Danse had been required to do such a task.

Despite Codsworth's ramshackle appliances (and the paladin hesitated to even label them as such), the robot appeared to be outstanding at making do with what it had. It easily managed the extra pot and cooking sheet, numerous arms deftly keeping everything from over or under-cooking. Danse was duly impressed.

Sturges arrived with an elderly woman clinging to his arm, the aforementioned Mama Murphy if Danse had to guess. She was a frail-looking thing even by Commonwealth standards, all bundled up against the balmy evening air.

Backhand greeted her warmly, the knight drawing her into a careful hug before urging her to take a seat.

Everyone gathered around the table and the environment was one of lax comradery, much to Danse's surprise. He had never been involved in a true family dinner, but this seemed to be something like what he had heard about. It was a little cozier than the mess hall on the Prydwen; he kept bumping elbows with Backhand and the woman kept brushing it off like it was nothing, laughing at his stern apologies. Jun plied Danse with a variety of questions about the Brotherhood which he did his best to answer, while Marcy and Sturges asked Codsworth for seconds. All the while Dogmeat begged from anyone that would offer him attention, ending the meal with his head resting on Mama Murphy's thigh as the old woman absently scratched him behind the ears.

It was...it was nice.

But now, warm and well-fed, lying on the mattress he had procured, Danse found himself wide awake. His thoughts wandered to the massive machine Sturges was constructing on the outskirts of town, the molecular relay . Could it be possible that the Institute had no true physical openings to the Commonwealth proper? It seemed like a villain's scheme out of those illustrated paperback manuscripts the squires loved to read, not something that had any basis in reality.

Though Ingram had weighed in on the matter, she had also believed it to be fantasy, entirely relegated to the world of theory. As such, she may have been a bit more wild with her calculations. A bit more willing to push the envelope.

Danse turned over, staring at the doorway as he considered whether he ought to bring up his concerns to Backhand. This was her son at stake. But it would do her no good to get blown to pieces by some malfunction or miscalculation.

Hell, they hadn't exactly covered experimental methods of travel in advanced training. The large man sighed and grudgingly slipped from the bed, digging his fatigue pants out of his pack.

He crept across the hallway, noticing a light still shining from beneath the door of Vega's room. At least he wouldn't be waking her.

Gingerly, Danse rapped his knuckles on the door. "Knight Vega?" There was no response. The paladin eased the door open, his words dying on his lips as he took in the scene in front of him.

Elizabeth was sound asleep in the bed, her hands folded underneath her chin in what Danse had come to identify as her favored sleeping position. On her bedside table a single candle fluttered in the breeze from the now-ajar door, starkly illuminating the pallid cryo burns on her forehead and chin in its yellow glow.

Of course she was asleep. She was just as tired as he had been, if not moreso.

His eyes were drawn without his conscious input to the blue crib that sat empty alongside the door, the vacant area inside it a solemn, silent reminder of why he was even here in the first place.

Jesus . Danse felt stupid. What had he been planning on doing? Vega, as your commanding officer, I'd greatly appreciate it if you would come discuss my concerns with me. Pander to my needs . He grimaced at himself, shaking his head. Just what kind of fool was he? Sure Danse, she would just sit down, have some damn tea with you and let you whine about how mechanically unsound all of this seems.

He cautiously moved further into the room and snuffed out the candle before retreating and shutting the door. It would do her no good to burn the place down around her ears as she slumbered.

The paladin retraced his steps across the hall to his room, but if sleep had been reluctant before, now it was downright unobtainable . The bed was comfortable enough. Hell, it was a more comfortable bed than he had experienced in literal months . His brain simply refused to be still.

Danse groaned, staring up at the ceiling. It seemed he was in for another night of patrol duty.

He got fully dressed and ventured outside, closing the front door silently behind him before setting off down the main 'street' of the development. He barely got halfway to the large tree at the roundabout of the cul-de-sac when he heard someone calling his name.

It was Sturges, Danse realized, the other main hailing him from the top of one of the houses. "C'mon up and take a load off!" The mechanic urged, patting the roof beside him.

Danse glanced off down the thoroughfare of Sanctuary, and then shrugged. Eh, what the hell . From an elevated position he could see threats coming.

The paladin heaved himself up the ladder and plopped down beside the mechanic, declining the cigarette when it was offered. "I come up here when I got thinkin' to do." Sturges turned his face upwards. "Everythin' seems so much smaller. More compartmentalized -ish, you know?"

"I'm afraid I cannot sympathize, civilian." Danse replied, wishing he didn't sound quite so stiff.

"Look up for a minute, man. Take in the view. Then try and tell me everythin' down here ain't small potatoes."

Danse dutifully obliged, tilting his head back to observe the sprawling cosmos high above. It was hardly his first time gazing at the stars and pretending to think deep thoughts. He said as much to Sturges, who chuckled.

"I used to sit up here and wonder how I got to be so good at tinkerin'. I don't remember much about where I came from, not like how other folks do. Can't recall bein' little, or havin' anyone else around. It's all just kinda' vague." He took a contemplative drag off the cigarette. "I figure I must have come from the Institute. Maybe them Railroad boys got hold of me, smuggled me out like a puppy from a pet shop." He gave Danse a lazy grin. "Of course, it don't matter much either way. Now, I'm workin' to bring 'em down. At the end of the day, I'm makin' myself useful. And if I really am a synth, I get a kick out of the idea of all them bigwigs losin' their shit over somethin' I did."

Danse knew that his first response ought to be immediate apprehension of the mechanic, followed by interrogation and eradication. But something about what Sturges had said resonated with him, settled in his stomach like a lead weight. "You assume you are a synth merely because your early memories are not as clear as they ought to be?"

Sturges waved him off. "Nah nah, like...they're not really there . I mean, they're there, but it's all kinda'...I 'unno, sterile . Lots of blanks in between, more than the gaps people talk about when they got trauma n' such. Can't remember losin' my first tooth. Breakin' a bone. Whether I had a family. Little things that add up." He glanced over at the other man after a few silent seconds. " Damn , you alright? You're white as a sheet. You been gettin' enough sleep?"

Sterile . That was a word Danse had privately attributed to his own early memories long before this moment. Devoid of any defining characteristics, any instance of real impact . Just hazy, irradiated landscapes and gray ruins. Alone, always alone.

He had known, vaguely, deep down, that most people seemed to have the ability to recall important periods from their childhood that he simply lacked. He had chalked it up to being an orphan, being forced to survive on his own from a tender, unknown age.

But…

But what if it was something far more sinister?

"I just have a lot on my mind." Danse replied finally.

...

It took him four days. Four days where he was out of his armor more often than he was in it, four days of the two of them sitting in what was once her living room as they pored over tattered schematics, defunct wills and shady paper trails of all kinds.

Four days of watching her absently tuck a lock of hair back behind her ear. Four days of her being blissfully, wonderfully armor-free as well. Four days of just getting to be in proximity of her without anything going horribly wrong.

It only took him four days.

Vega had chosen to wear an appropriately light skirt for their less than taxing work of the day, the ragged pink fabric pooled around her as she sat on the floor and studiously sorted through yet another box of somewhat suspicious documents. The sun was setting, a radstorm hanging low on the horizon in the distance. Its green glow muted the pinks and oranges down to a dull yellow, wraith-like beams making their way through every unpatched crack they could find. The light struck the lenses of her glasses when she bowed her head to look closer at a document, the motion sending a few weak prisms scattering across the opposite wall.

Danse couldn't help himself, his mouth dry when he gruffly blurted out, "you look nice today."

Elizabeth gave no indication that she noticed he had said anything, only looking up after several seconds had gone by. "Sorry, what?" She apologized, blinking behind her thick glasses as a troublesome curl slipped forward over her ear to frame her cheek. "I was engrossed in this thrilling tale of larceny."

Danse chuckled feebly, thanking God that she hadn't heard him. "Ah, nothing. Sorry to have interrupted your reading material." His hands twitched, and then clenched on his thighs after she smiled benignly at him and returned to her reading.

Her divorce papers had been among the many documents they sifted through. She had read them aloud, making a theatrical endeavor out of the whole thing. Backhand stood and paced, gesticulating and apparently imitating how her ex-husband had done his job in the courtroom. Danse had laughed at the time. But all the while he wondered about how Nate had treated her, and at her animosity towards the nickname that the man had apparently bestowed upon her. Their divorce was obviously far from amicable.

A nickname. That was essentially all she had left after the divorce she had requested, that and the child which was born on the same day that they finalized the papers.

" He had me sign them in the hospital." Backhand had told him, her voice a little less bright. " I had just come from getting Shaun scooped out of me and he was already in my room. I couldn't even lift my arm to sign. One of the nurse robots had to help me. " Her eyes were far away when she continued, " he didn't even want to see Shaun ."

Danse knew logically that not every human being was cut out to be a parent. Nowadays, it was enough of a struggle just to survive. But he found himself wishing, stupidly , that he had been there two hundred years ago. Wishing that he had been present to send Nate packing, with or without his damned papers.

Finding Elizabeth wounded at Fort Independence had been bad enough. The idea of her laying limp in a hospital bed, half-dead from the effort of trying to give birth with some cretin badgering her into signing divorce papers--Danse wasn't sure how his blood could retroactively boil, and yet here he was.

" He wanted kids ." Elizabeth had said. She never mentioned what she had wanted.

It was becoming increasingly difficult not to think of her as simply Elizabeth, despite the paladin constantly mentally correcting himself. Knight Vega . General Vega . It was becoming increasingly difficult to stop daydreaming about a different life, where the two of them eked out a companionable existence and enjoyed tea in the evenings.

He was so lost. He wondered if she would let him kiss her and in the next breath scolded himself for such a ludicrous idea. She had a life already , she had her dog, Sturges, Jun and Marcy, Mama Murphy, this little settlement. She had the Minutemen and Preston. There was no room for him here. He was an assistant on her quest. He had promised to help her find her son and Danse kept his word, even if it involved things that weren't his to promise.

Danse still couldn't reconcile with truly thinking about her like that since the police station, his body wracked with guilt every time his mind wandered a little too far south. Self control was one of the few things he had left in this world, and Danse did his best to force his thoughts to be chaste when he was alone at night, did his best not to think about what Haylen had said to him during his visit with her and Rhys.

" It's okay to like her, you know. " The scribe had remarked, her smile soft and knowing as her fingers twined with Rhys'. " You're still allowed to enjoy your life, Paladin ."

It was futile. It was pointless.

But wasn't that how everything always turned out with him.

…

Sturges claimed that the machine was ready and Backhand couldn't resist throwing her arms around him. She knew he probably couldn't breathe.

"Tomorrow mornin', bright an' early, we'll fire the bitch up." Sturges grinned, slapping her on the back before pulling away. "Fingers crossed our luck holds and you'll be back with your little boy."

"I can't thank you enough for this." Backhand murmured, taking his hands in her own. "Seriously, from the bottom of my heart Sturges, thank you ."

"Shucks ma'am, you ain't gotta' get all sentimental on me. I'm just happy to help." Sturges replied with his easy grin. "After what you did for us in Concord, this ain't nothing."

"Congratulations, kid." Mama Murphy said from her chair, wheezing a little. She had asked to be moved outside earlier in the day, as it was pleasantly warm in the sun. Sturges and Jun had carried her throne out by the foundation where Sturges had been constructing the 'slapdash relay' as he had dubbed it. "You'll be on top of those Institute eggheads in no time."

"Now, I need you to know a few things for tomorrow." Sturges cautioned Vega. "There ain't no sure way to test this thing. We're flyin' blind, unfortunately. I can't guarantee your safety, General. I'd advise you to treat this like your old army endeavors. Not to be grim or nothin', but just...well, make your peace. Smoke 'em if ya' got 'em." Sturges advised, smiling wanly.

"I'll get in touch with Preston." Backhand replied, believing she understood what the mechanic was getting at. "I won't leave you guys twisting in the wind if I get turned inside out or something." She tried to joke.

"It ain't us he's concerned about, kid." Murphy piped up, watery eyes fixed on Vega's face. "You better talk to that man of yours. Make sure he knows."

"Man?" Backhand asked in confusion.

"Your gentle giant, kid."

"Oh. Oh! " Vega blushed furiously even as she tried to explain that Danse was only here as her sponsor for the Brotherhood, nothing more.

Mama Murphy hummed knowingly, "kid, you can't hide nothin' from ol' Mama Murphy. It's okay that you're anxious. I don't need the Sight to know that you been through a lot." She patted Vega's hand. "Go on, kid. You'll be fine."

It was on trembling legs that Backhand sussed out Danse after her radio conversation with Preston.

" You don't owe the Minutemen a damn thing, General. " Preston had said firmly. " Ronnie will be more than up to the task, if this is where we part ways. I hope you find your son, General Vega, and the Minutemen thank you for everything you've done. You gave us hope , and that isn't an easy thing to find ."

Danse was, as ever, working on his armor. He seemed to maintain his gear almost obsessively. Currently he had one of the legs detached from the frame, painstakingly sweeping the sand and grit out of the joints so he could apply a fresh coat of grease.

"Paladin Danse?" Vega asked, embarrassed by how her voice squeaked. "C-Can I get a word with you?"

"Of course, Knight Vega." Danse replied, placing the leg off to one side and picking up a rag to wipe the excess grease away. He propped his hip up on the power armor station, looking at her expectantly.

Backhand's words dried up and she cleared her throat. "I um, should be able to try to get into the Institute tomorrow." She managed to say.

Danse's eyebrows rose. " Really . Sturges truly has that much faith in his machine?" The man asked, not unkindly. "I can't find any fault with it, of course. What people like he and Ingram can do has always been incomprehensible to me. I am incredibly curious to see whether the device works. Will you permit me to see you off?"

"That's kind of what I wanted to speak with you about." Backhand said hesitantly. "Danse, I...I just wanted you to know that…"

Oh she was a coward , just the worst kind of coward! Danse smiled after a moment. "It's alright, Vega."

Backhand blinked up at him, stunned. "It...it is?"

Danse nodded. "Venturing into uncertain territory is always a tumultuous experience. Take all the time you need. I'll be here to listen." He assured her.

She was going to cry. Oh no , oh dammit . Backhand took a deep breath in, stalling her tears for the moment. "I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your help." She was a coward . "I-If I don't come back."

"You've been a breath of fresh air for me, soldier." Danse's hands landed on her shoulders, his sincere grin tearing chunks out of her stomach. "Despite our strange and rocky start, you've proved yourself ten times over in my eyes. I'm incredibly proud of what you've accomplished, and I hope our partnership continues even after you've rescued your son."

"Y-Yeah." Backhand sniffled, losing the fight with her tears. "Me too, Danse."

"It is entirely reasonable to be apprehensive, Knight Vega. There is no shame in admitting your trepidation." The paladin's thumbs pressed into her shoulders, idly rubbing circles. "Don't let it eat you alive."

Backhand felt like a creep. She wished she was brave enough to ask for a hug, while scolding herself for thinking that way. Danse had been such an anchor for her, it wasn't right to expect more out of him. "I won't. Thanks." She promised quietly. "I should probably...go. I'm sure Marcy needs...um, something."

Danse nodded, removing his hands from her shoulders. Vega silently mourned the loss as she fled like the coward she was, certain that she had turned a violent shade of crimson.

...

I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your help.

Danse loathed himself for clinging to those words. Loathed himself for putting his hands on her, what the fuck was he thinking? He talked a great game, but his self-control never seemed to improve.

He couldn't believe he had gushed like that. Telling her how proud he was, how glad he was to be able to work with her...she had rescued his team, rescued him .

He stared up at the ceiling and rubbed his eyes, then dragged his fingers firmly down the sides of his neck in an effort to soothe away the tension that threatened to lock him in place. His trapezius muscles in particular screamed for mercy, making him grunt and dig in a little harder. After several moments of focused attention, the spasm eased. Danse hummed, relieved. He was always concerned that the next one could be his last. He hadn't exactly treated his body with tender loving care, especially when he trained himself to a pulp.

The rush of endorphins was what did him in every time he worked out, the triumphant feeling when he pushed his body that much further past his previous limits.

Danse absently began to smooth his palms down his thighs as his mind wandered. When he caught himself, he tore his hands away like his own touch burned him. That was...God, it had been a fair amount of time, but…

Danse bit his lip. But …

The paladin shifted his weight, trying to get more comfortable and cringing every time the mattress springs squeaked. He spread his legs a little wider, one leg hanging over the side of the mattress while the other bent at the knee and pressed against the wall.

His touch was, as ever, function over form. Danse slid a hand between the waistband of his briefs and his stomach, hissing out a breath as he felt his body stir under his own fingers. The paladin just rested there for a selfish moment. It had been so long since he had touched himself.

He scrolled mentally through a catalogue of his previous endeavors and the media he had seen over the years, trying to decide on a visual to accompany his activity.

Cutler came to mind, as he always did. His smile, his eyes, the way a blush rose high on his cheekbones when he and Danse engaged in such pleasant diversions. Danse had never failed to tell the other man just how handsome he was, if only to watch his flustered reaction to the compliment.

But God, Danse would give anything to have a moment to himself that wasn't tainted with melancholy recollections. He carefully put the memory of Cutler aside and continued to think, not incredibly surprised with his brain's next course of action.

It settled on that pre-war mag he had seen passed around in the barracks, the one full of lingerie and women who looked outstanding . One of the buxom models came to mind, her blue eyes and brown hair very similar to--

Danse flinched, feeling like an idiot for immediately switching to fantasizing about Vega in some sleazy, delicate…

Barely-there…

Fuck .

Danse bit back a groan. She was pre-war, he reasoned wildly, it was only logical that he thought of her. She had curves and real muscle that wasn't simply visible due to emaciation. God, and she was beautiful to boot. He could at least admit that much.

His traitorous cock decided to make the choice for him, hardening beneath his hand while he wrestled with himself over imagining Vega in something so devastatingly attractive. It didn't have to be Vega, he rationalized, it could be anyone . Just a woman who resembled her. Entirely by chance. He absolutely wasn't about to masturbate to the idea of his ward in a skimpy outfit.

Danse pulled his undershirt up, catching the hem between his teeth to keep it out of the way. He couldn't be loud here, so hopefully the fabric would hold his embarrassing noises at bay.

His hand sank to the base of his cock, encircling it and then tugging lazily upwards. Danse almost crumpled in on himself, oh God , it had been ages . He panted out a breath, teasing the sensitive head of his cock for a moment before stroking back down. No matter his guilt, some portion of him was definitely interested in Vega. Beggars couldn't be choosers when it came to stealing a private moment in the Brotherhood, and so he gave in.

Danse jerked himself off with long, smooth motions, doing his best to keep his pace even. There was nothing worse than falling out of rhythm with his imagination.

God, she was probably so damn warm, so wet , tight, hot . Danse choked a little when he wondered what she would sound like, utterly devoted to his fantasy now. Would she tell him to be quiet, or would she let him ramble? Let him kiss every part of her body, let him devour her, taste her on his tongue…

Danse bit back the groan he desperately wanted to let escape at the idea of her calling his name or calling him paladin while he ate her out, " fuck ," he breathed softly, squeezing the base of his cock.

Elizabeth , he wanted to say her name out loud, God he wanted to say it so badly, he could feel an ache in his jaw from how hard he was biting his undershirt. He wanted to say her name until she loved it again, until whatever hurt she felt over it vanished into nothingness. He used to call me Beth . The man who was Shaun's father. The man she had married.

Danse knew it was stupid for him to be irritated by a man who had been dead for around two hundred years. But she wasn't Beth. She was Elizabeth .

He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, kiss down her neck, learn every scar and mark on her body. At the same time he feared her getting to know him in that manner, really know him. How greedy and undeserving he was, how much of a failure he was.

It was futile to think about. Pointless, even. These feelings, these desires...nothing would ever come of them. Danse knew that. This was just a means to an end and his damned heart, his emotions were going to make a mess of everything.

He silently spilled his release onto his stomach and then went slack, gasping for breath as his cock twitched and jumped against his belly.

The paladin threw an arm over his eyes, grateful at least that his body understood the age-old cue to let him get some damn rest.

...

He didn't sleep well, but at least he slept. Danse was up before the sun, his eyes heavy as he ran through his gear check and suited up in his armor.

Backhand emerged from her house, clad in her combat armor and armed only with her pistol. Danse noted that she had dark circles under her eyes as well, the young woman sipping coffee from her metal mug like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

"Want some?" She asked Danse, darting back inside when he nodded in reply.

The two of them made their way to the old foundation where Sturges had built the relay, companionable silence filling the air between them.

Danse watched the sun rise, his eyes drifting to Elizabeth every now and again. She appeared to simply be enjoying the peace, her own eyes closed as she drank her coffee cross-legged on the foundation.

The paladin cleared his throat. "Knight Vega, I-"

"Up bright an' early, eh?" Sturges called from the residence he appeared to have claimed as his own. "Be with ya' in a moment, General!"

Backhand tipped her mug to him in acknowledgment, looking up at Danse curiously. "You were saying, Paladin?"

If something happens to you, if you don't come back, if I don't say the things that I wish I could- - "Do you have that lucky bandanna of yours?" Danse asked instead, crushing the sentimental nonsense down. "I imagine it may prove useful for ensuring your success."

Backhand laughed, patting her pocket. "Always carry it on me, Danse. The homeland takes care of their own."

Danse inclined his head and fell silent once more, watching as Sturges fiddled with the control podium. Electricity began to arc and sputter from the generators placed around the site, making the mechanic frown and readjust a few dials.

"Not sure how long I'll be able to keep it steady for once I dial in on the signal!" He called over the racket of the generators. Vega nodded, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. Danse watched as the engineer hauled her in close and pressed something into her hands, the man speaking too quietly for Danse to hear. Then, "alright General, it's now or never!"

Vega approached the transfer plate as Sturges turned dials and punched numbers, the man's hands flying over the control panel. Danse stood off to the side, uncertain of what might happen but also unwilling to let her face this alone.

She pressed her fingers to her lips and brushed them against Danse's helmet. "I'll be back." Vega stated with a wink.

Danse rolled his eyes, chuckling a little. "Good luck, Knight." He said, his voice tinged with humor.

And then she was gone. With a flash of light and a burst of noise like a thunderclap, she vanished . Sturges' delight was only dampened by every piece of equipment he had painstakingly built immediately and fatally overloading, leaving the engineer and Danse scorched and dismayed. Danse, for his part, hadn't truly expected the device to work . He had assumed it was just a pipe dream, something for her to throw herself into so that the grief wouldn't swallow her whole.

But she had disappeared .

Part Ten

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse imagine #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse x f!sole #brotherhood of steel #bos #fo4 companions #fo4 companions imagine #bethesda #fo4 paladin danse

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danwhobrowses · 4 years ago

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Why ‘The Karate Kid Part II’ Deserves More Respect

So guess what film I finished watching today? Of course, the Karate Kid franchise is considered iconic mainly for its first entry; Wax on Wax off, Skeleton fights, Sweep the Leg and the Crane Kick all cemented its legacy that allowed Cobra Kai to also be such a success. But imagine my shock when the approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes for Part II is 45% - 21% lower than the Jaden Smith ‘The Karate Kung Fu Kid’ version (and Part III is scored 15%, which is also super harsh but hard to debate outside of the magnificence of Terry Silver). Originally this was just gonna be a general post of how much I enjoyed retreading Part II, but upon seeing that score I had to give it my ‘Deserves More Respect’ posts.

It is an off-chance, but if you haven’t watched this film there will be spoilers within, I encourage you to watch it before reading, and maybe watch it again if you have so it’s fresh in the mind

Let’s start with a controversial point shall we? There are several parts where Part II is actually better than the original. Now I know! There’s a lot about the original which is iconic, but nostalgia does blind you to other shortcomings and while it’s easy to sell the first part because of its mystique, a sequel has the added pressure of rising above and developing on old and new themes set by the predecessor. The Premise In case you decided against refreshing your memory. Karate Kid Part II starts with a recap of Part I, a bit of content that was meant to be Part I’s final scene (in the script, not for filming) and then a timeskip. Ali with an i is gone - brutally dumping Daniel for some Football Player before Senior Prom and after crashing his car, Daniel’s mother is in Fresno for work and Miyagi has received a letter from his home Okinawa in news of his father’s fading health. The stage is set for Daniel and the audience to learn more about the iconic Mr. Miyagi and the life he left behind. Okay, so there is bad in this film Part II deserves respect, but it’s not perfect. It definitely gets messy near the end with Daniel’s antagonist Chozen, he mainly took beats from Johnny Lawrence in physically confronting Daniel when he could with a bunch of no-named goons and he fought pretty similarly to Johnny in catch counters and leg strikes. The opening recap did take a lot of time too, while the ending remained somewhat abrupt having just beaten up Chozen to embrace Kumiko (who had a delayed recovery after being punched once). While not bad, a fair amount of retreaded content felt like downgrades of the original; Chozen and Sato lacked the charisma of Johnny and Kreese, the crane kick was far more impressive than the drum technique and the Tournament setting was grander than the O-Bon festival. But, there are Iconic Moments in this film too Part I may have the Crane Kick and the Skeletons and the Training and Sweep the Leg. But people may forget that Part II had awesome moments too.

Like Daniel chopping through 6 Sheets of Ice! If that isn’t one hell of a power play I don’t know what is. It is a moment genuinely impressive in and outside of the 80s cheese universe of Karate Kid, and it gets referenced in Season 2 of Cobra Kai.

Also referenced in Season 2 is Miyagi vs Kreese. While this is the intended ending for Part I, it certainly acted better at the start of Part II, especially given that is foreshadows the situation Daniel finds himself in at the end of the movie. This moment is equally iconic as it completely encapsulates the character of both senseis - Kreese the confident brute brought to a sniveling mouse when size and power failed him and Miyagi the cool-headed and vastly more intelligent fighter still with the cheeky prankster lightness to him as he honks the scared shitless Kreese on the nose. Perfect.

While I did want to cite the Tea Ceremony as well I think the more iconic moment for Part II had to be Miyagi chopping the log during the storm. The storm itself is a very well-done scene which unmasks several characters in the face of adversity. True tension, worry and stakes are sold as the village are in danger of the cruel whims of nature, an act which is all too real for Sato when the house he’s in collapses on him in the calm before his scheduled deathmatch with Miyagi. Not only is this again some great foreshadowing by the rule of three (Daniel asking if Miyagi can chop a log like Sato is doing with a banner and then Miyagi and Sato meeting and seeing Sato fail to chop a log) it proves a pivotal point where Sato turns from aggrieved antagonist to repenting ally. A great show of power and friendship as Miyagi metaphorically breaks the rift between their friendship that weighs Sato down. Okay, we hear you, but how is it better? I do have to preface that I do still love Part I, I have to because in pointing out where Part II is better I have to pick at Part I’s faults. While the ending is messy Part II definitely has much better pacing, until the skeletons scene Part I doesn’t really pick up because it has to set up, Part II while it does recap doesn’t need to worry about it. Giving Miyagi the main plot was definitely Part II’s strongest suit. Part I profited from Miyagi being the ‘mysterious old teacher’ but learning a lot more about his humanity and history was engrossing and it allowed positive development for Miyagi and Daniel, especially their bond as a surrogate father and son when Daniel personally goes out of his way to support Miyagi on a very personal matter. The main characters maintain their charm as well, still a lovely array of life lessons in Part II more than just finding balance, Miyagi teaches Daniel through words and action on taking time to breathe, to refocus when imbalanced, to forgive rather than to harbour hate, mercy, selflessness and humbleness

“never put passion before principle. Even if win, you lose.” - Mr. Miyagi

The scenes involving Miyagi and his father were some of the most deep and emotive of the series up until Cobra Kai, some still haven’t been topped such as Miyagi’s dad’s first words to his son or when Daniel talked about when his father died. And say what you will about Chozen, he does have a lot of Johnny vibes but a lot of the character we believed was Johnny due to nostalgia goggles was more fitting of Chozen’s manner. The story did a great job in making sure Chozen was always an asshole, at times Johnny did at least display honour and grace but Chozen was always sore about stuff and quick to claim dishonour even when he was in the wrong. Contrary to Johnny it’s more about his family than it is about a girl, which allowed a lot more freedom in the plot. Whether you felt Elizabeth Shue’s Ali with an i was prettier than Tamlyn Tomita’s Kumiko is up to personal preference, but the messy-haired Kumiko definitely had a slightly improved presence in Part II than Ali did, with actual focus on her own feelings outside of attraction to Daniel, her ambition to become a dancer directly linking to the O-Bon Festival - which in turn related to the Drum technique - as well as the delicately beautiful Tea Ceremony scene and actually contributing to the final fight (granted Ali wouldn’t be allowed to). Also Daniel didn’t try to eat her face which is a general improvement to the romantic subplot, extra applause has to go to Tomita here too because this was legitimately her first role - Shue had her second so that’s impressive too - and both women had good careers going forward. The increased stakes definitely worked in the favour of Part II as well, as sequel culture is forced to do, but by moving to Okinawa (actually filmed in Hawaii) we opened the door to better suit Miyagi’s world while keeping Daniel the fish out of water. I can’t speak too much for appropriation because there is still kinda some ‘white saviour’ undertones but I didn’t feel like Japan was treated negatively in this light, its culture of the O-Bon Festival and the Tea Ceremony was treated with the utmost respect and explained without pandering, the flute music had definitely stepped up its game for the soundtrack as did the imagery. Can also appreciate that Daniel does go for the Crane kick when fighting Chozen but is parried. Added hat tip has to go to costuming too. A lot of costumes would have to have distinct Kamon such as Sato’s twin fish and Miyagi’s bonsai on a lot of their clothing

Between Sato and Miyagi the colours of their clothes often code their emotions towards each other, with Sato usually in grey and Miyagi in white or cream, when Sato and Miyagi prepare for death they are in black and when Sato wants forgiveness he moves to a lighter shade. While Part I also used black and white to differ Johnny and Daniel, Part II put Chozen and Daniel in the more Japanese-themed Red and Blue. While both men wear red, blue and whites at time, Chozen’s clothes almost devolve from the white he debuts in as his darker side comes out before flat out embracing yellow after his chance to prove his honour in the storm is refused (and he’s in white then), while Daniel often moves to Red or red tones even in his blue shirt. Kumiko also moves from white to blue, sometimes even purple, in set up to the final fight to have the primary colours stand out in the colourful crowd of the O-Bon festival, but even in the blue Kumiko had red to pair her connection with Daniel. Also her Yukata at the festival is just stunning, the Great Wave off Kanagawa print is a nice touch.

Anything else we should know? It might not be much else about the film itself I can tell you, but I do appreciate something I’m starting to call ‘The Rocky Connection’ when it comes to Karate Kid. Like Part I’s ‘You’re the Best (Around)’ was shortlisted for Rocky III, Part II’s song ‘Glory of Love’ was shortlisted for Rocky IV’s theme, losing to ‘Hearts on Fire’, Bill Conti also chose to score this film instead of Rocky IV. I like to pair this with Daniel’s Rocky-esque character, he has that same kind of swagger but a lot more naive and childlike. Martin Kove also gets a nod because those bleeding hands were legit, he had an accident on-set and the footage was kept for the final cut. Tamlyn Tomita wasn’t the only film debut for Part II, B.D. Wong of...well, several famous roles including but not limited to Shang in the animated Mulan, Dr. Wu in the Jurassic Park franchise, Hugo Strange in Gotham and many more, also had his debut here in a minor speaking role when he’s handing out flyers for the dance party to Kumiko and Daniel before the Ice Chopping Scene. So, why does it deserve respect A film that adds to a beloved character in a respectful fashion without having really any god awful moments does not deserve a 4.5/10 rating. It may not have as emphatic an ending or as great a villain but it has a captivating plot and a good pace, better stakes and much more emotionally driven and responsive scenes. A lot of effort and dedication went into this film to explore new dimensions of the main characters in a fashion which was enjoyable and at times heartwarming. And characters are given human moments, even Miyagi confesses himself not to be perfect and it keeps each character grounded. Even to this day parts of Part II are remembered fondly rather than the campness that Part III had outside of Terry Silver and his magnificent ponytail, the fondness also continues to reflect in Cobra Kai with homages and fan theories of Daniel going to Okinawa again and even re-encountering Chozen. Not to mention it grossed $113m on a $13m budget and got nominated for a Best Original Song Oscar (losing to Top Gun) Part II was a good and enjoyable film which deserves far more credit than to be rated this low, for that it deserves respect.

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thundergrace · 5 years ago

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Y'all not ready.

Y'all are not ready.

That was so good.

It's very easy to hyperbolically say that this first episode of The L Word: Generation Q was better than the original L Word's entire run, but, if I did, it'd be hard to take my opinion seriously.

And, yes, it's not necessary to compare reboots and remakes but I do think it's worth comparing a sequel or sequel series to the original work, especially a socially and culturally significant one that had many controversial and problematic moments that were relevant enough that people were skeptical about how it could reinvent and redeem its name.

Watching this pilot, I did not feel exploited or pandered to. I did not feel minimized or reduced. I felt like these queer people were part of the world and not a little designated queer safe space that still manages to be non-inclusive.

The introduction of the new characters was so entertaining and fun. Like, they're everyone's friends. I know these people. Sadly 😂. And then having all the new characters (aside from Micah) directly associated with Bette, Shane and Alice was smart but also done in a way that doesn't feel at all contrived.

Speaking of Bette, Shane and Alice, this absolutely works as the core group that returns to us and not only that, the direction their lives have taken professionally makes perfect sense as well. They take up space. You're really not stuck waiting for other familiar characters to pop up. They bring enough history and reestablish their bond instantly.

And, the personal drama, conflicts and obstacles unravel quite authentically. You don't want to see them ten years older, making the same mistakes and having not grown for the sake of staying true to the characters we know and love. Yet, you want them believable. Everything they're going through is appropriate for where they're at in life and indeed, they're the same people and are handling (or avoiding) the drama accordingly. It's not out of character.

Overall, I loved this... this is what I needed at 17 but better late than never. Grateful.

#tlwgq #the l word #tlw #the l word generation q #spoiler free

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celluloid-swamp · 4 years ago

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The Handmaiden (2016) dir. Park Chan-wook

★★★★/5

The film narrates the twist-ridden story of Sook-Hee; a handmaiden with an ulterior motive, masterminded by a swindler posing as a Japanese Count, to defraud her employer; heiress Lady Hideko.

- I’ve known of the Handmaiden for quite a while since it came out but I never found the time to really look into it. I knew it would intrigue me being a period piece with LGBT characters but aside from that I had no idea about the thriller aspects. Going into this film with no prior knowledge was I think really the best way to experience it.

- Upon first viewing of the Handmaiden I found myself completely enthralled in all aspects of the story. Split into several parts and including various flashbacks, the entire plot vibrates with suspense ensuring I was gripped at all moments. Some films with twists like these can often make viewing seem like a chore and overly complicated, however these aspects within the handmaiden only enriched my experience. Although, once finished I did reckon I needed to watch it again to fully ‘get’ the story.

- I’m a major fan of period pieces and it’s not uncommon for me to watch something just so I can relish in the delicious costumes and set design therefore regardless of the brilliant story I would have still found myself delighting in the beautiful scenery and outfits. I haven’t had much experience with Asian historical dramas but I finding myself admiring just the aesthetics of the film I certainly plan to explore further.

- The way the relationship between the two characters, Sook-Hee and Hideko, was conveyed was also incredibly admirable. The tension and passion between them permeated each frame and it never felt distasteful or exploitative even during the explicit sex scenes. I admire the director for his respectability as well as his aspiration to accurately portray queer characters, having consulted outside sources for advice on the ‘sensibilities of queer women’ and all the measures taken to ensure the actresses were comfortable during filming. The Handmaiden feels like a genuine portrayal which can feel like a rarity among films which so often pander to the male gaze and fetishise lesbians.

- The only aspect of the film that takes away from my enjoyment was some of the violence at the end that didn’t really feel in keeping with the film as a whole. But I entirely disagree with criticisms that the film was overtly pornographic or explicit. The scenes felt in keeping with the relationship between the two women and entirely appropriate and satisfying. Hideko suffered abuse at the hands of her uncle and her enjoyment of intimacy with Sook-Hee really felt symbolic of her victory over him.

#The Handmaiden #Park Chan-wook

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isabearies · 5 years ago

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Instability — D:BH [04]

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 1054

Warnings: Cursing, mostly just fluff

Author’s Note: Okay, this one I tried to just make really sweet for the holiday season! It’s New Year’s Eve and I just thought everyone needs to relax a little ;) Hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Connor has just been assigned to the deviant case with you and Hank. You have a history with androids, but he just wants a partner. You want androids to be heard, but you’re still terrified of them.

Chapter 4: Just Ask

November 6, 2038

The sky was darker and the rain was the same. Drops of water pitter-pattered onto the car as Hank and Connor sat up front and you sat in the back. You preferred the back, since you got a bit carsick. You sat in back whenever you could.

You pulled up the road that sat adjacent to an elevated freeway, a building to your left that read “CHICKEN feed” in bright neon lights. Hank said nothing as he exited the car. You steeled yourself, you were a detective damnit, why couldn’t you just apologize to an android.

Oh right, because you were a doofus with social anxiety. You always braved the tough cop act, dawning it especially around Gavin (prick). Everyone knew not to mess with you, and you liked it that way. You had a saying that your grandmother used to tell you: “If they can’t love me at my worst, then they can’t love me at my best.” You might have taken this a bit too literally, though, because sometimes you would purposefully act like a total bitch to drive people away. It wasn’t a conscious decision really, it just happened. You would be talking, saying something mildly to severely harmful, and then if they stayed then that was it. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you were scared to get help. Yeah yeah, it’s 2038 and you shouldn’t be scared to get help but people are stuck in their ways and you were people.

Hank stayed, Gavin stayed, Fowler stayed, and that was it, until now. It was odd, Connor had not left yet. He was never harsh with you, he never even asked to leave, he just...stayed. You yelled at him, threatened him for god’s sakes and still he did not leave. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. You shifted in your seat and Connor prepared to follow after Hank.

“Connor,” you sounded pleading, which was not your goal, “Um, I—” You stumbled on your words.

Fuck.

“Yes, Detective (l/n)?” He sounded interested, but just mildly cold. Maybe that’s just his voice?

“Uh, I just wanted to say,” you thought on your words for a moment, “I’m sorry.” Connor was audibly taken aback by your apology. He turned back to look at you. His confusion was visible in his expression; his brows were furrowed, head at a slight tilt, and big brown eyes mirrored his thoughts.

“Why are you sorry?” He was genuinely curious, maybe he forgot about what happened?

Androids don’t forget, dummy.

“I yelled at you, in the bar. You were just asking if I was okay and it wasn’t appropriate. I’m sorry.”

Connor opened his mouth and shut it again. His brown eyes pandered down to your fidgeting hands and back up to your darting eyes. He noticed your face was flushed a dark pink. Wondering if you were sick, he checked your vitals, only to find an increasing amount of cortisol in your system.

“Connor?” He had been staring too long. The silence got a little exhausting. Finally, you managed to get something out.

“You could just ask you know.”

“Ask what?” Again, he was confused. That seemed to be a habit when he was around you.

“Ask if I’m okay, without looking me up or scanning my vitals. It’s better that way,” your voice was not quite patient, but close enough. It was the best you could do.

“Oh.” He looked down, considering you request. It puzzled him. He was an android, he was supposed to scan people. Why would he negate this privilege and ask someone if they were okay?

“Because it’s polite.” Startled, he looked to your face again. How did you know what he was thinking? It seemed implausible. “It’s the human thing to do.”

“Miss (l/n), I am not human,” The answer was obvious. He was not alive. How was he expected to do human things when he was so much different than them.

“You want to work with us, right? Live alongside us. Sometimes it’s better to just ask.” The more you explained it, the more you puzzled him. Even when you yelled at him, you did this one thing he didn’t expect from you. Despite your apparent grudge against him, not once did you treat him like just an android. Yeah, you were stubborn about androids “not getting in your way,” but you never demeaned him for being an android.

Connor looked how your hair fell slightly across your face, your gaze entertained with his. You had stopped fidgeting and looked a little more concerned. Your lips were quite red, probably a lip stain. You were slightly biting the lower corner of your lips. Your cheeks seemed to have deepened in color. Even in this gloomy weather, Connor thought you seemed to glow.

^ software instability ^

“Okay,” he agreed, “But how do I ask?” The question took a second for your to process. To you, it seemed obvious. You just do? Your eyes went down to your feet and back up again.

“Try it out on me. I’ll tell you how you do.”

“H-How are you, Miss (l/n)?” His eyes darted down.

Is he...flustered?

“I’m fine, Connor. Thank you for asking.” The sheepish smile you put on wasn’t forced. It’s the first real smile he had ever seen on you. It amazed him, and he couldn’t help but watch. The faint glow that radiated off you seemed to become blinding. He suddenly felt something odd in his thorium pump. Running diagnostics, he found nothing abnormal in his system. Odd.

A small silence emulated around the car once again, but it felt right. You felt comfortable in the silence, and it almost felt understanding. You both just sat in the car appreciating it.

“We should go out to meet the Lieutenant,” Connor quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car.

Well that was short-lived.

You sat still in the car for only a second, and in that split second, you could have sworn you felt something. It was a weird little thing, barely noticeable to anybody. Like a small fishing line reaching from one part of the car to the other. It wasn’t there, per se, more like a minuscule connection. But it was there, and you saw it.

And it startled you.

—

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