#I think story bits are putting themselves together

[otaku553]

Oc aged up? Redesign? Doodle

[mollyrealized]

How Michael Met Neil

original direct link [MP3]

(Neil, if you see this, please feel free to grab the transcript and store on your site; I had no easy way of contacting you.)

DAVID TENNANT: Tell me about @neil-gaiman then, because he's in that category [previously: “such a profound effect on my life”] as well.

MICHAEL SHEEN: So this is what has brought us together.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: To the new love story for the 21st century.

DAVID: Exactly.

MICHAEL: So when I went to drama school, there was a guy called Gary Turner in my year. And within the first few weeks, we were doing something, having a drink or whatever. And he said to me, “Do you read comic books?”

And I said, “No.”  I mean, this is … what … '88?  '88, '89.  So it was … now I know that it was a period of time that was a big change, transformation going through comic books.  Rather than it being thought of as just superheroes and Batman and Superman, there was this whole new era of a generation of writers like Grant Morrison.

DAVID: The kids who'd grown up reading comic books were now making comic books

MICHAEL: Yeah, yeah, and starting to address different kinds of subjects through the comic book medium. So it wasn't about just superheroes, it was all kinds of stuff going on – really fascinating stuff. And I was totally unaware of this.

And so this guy Gary said to me, "Do you read them?" And I said, "No."  And he went, "Right, okay, here's The Watchman [sic] by Alan Moore. Here's Swamp Thing. Here's Hellblazer. And here's Sandman.”

And Sandman was Neil Gaiman's big series that put his name on the map. And I read all those, and, just – I was blown away by all of them, but particularly the Sandman stories, because he was drawing on mythology, which was something I was really interested in, and fairy tales, folklore, and philosophy, and Shakespeare, and all kinds of stuff were being mixed up in this story.  And I absolutely loved it.

So I became a big fan of Neil's, and started reading everything by him. And then fairly shortly after that, within six months to a year, Good Omens the book came out, which Neil wrote with Terry Pratchett. And so I got the book – because I was obviously a big fan of Neil's by this point – read it, loved it, then started reading Terry Pratchett’s stuff as well, because I didn't know his stuff before then – and then spent years and years and years just being a huge fan of both of them.

And then eventually when – I'd done films like the Underworld films and doing Twilight films. And I think it was one of the Twilight films, there was a lot of very snooty interviews that happened where people who considered themselves well above talking about things like Twilight were having to interview me … and, weirdly, coming at it from the attitude of 'clearly this is below you as well' … weirdly thinking I'm gonna go, 'Yeah, fucking Twilight.”

And I just used to go, "You know what? Some of the greatest writing of the last 50-100 years has happened in science fiction or fantasy."  Philip K Dick is one of my favorite writers of all time. In fact, the production of Hamlet I did was mainly influenced by Philip K Dick.  Ursula K. Le Guin and Asimov, and all these amazing people. And I talked about Neil as well. And so I went off on a bit of a rant in this interview.

Anyway, the interview came out about six months later, maybe.  Knock on the door, open the door, delivery of a big box. That’s interesting. Open the box, there's a card at the top of the box. I open the card.

It says, From one fan to another, Neil Gaiman.  And inside the box are first editions of Neil's stuff, and all kinds of interesting things by Neil. And he just sent this stuff.

DAVID: You'd never met him?

MICHAEL: Never met him. He'd read the interview, or someone had let him know about this interview where I'd sung his praises and stood up for him and the people who work within that sort of genre as being like …

And he just got in touch. We met up for the first time when he came to – I was in Los Angeles at the time, and he came to LA.  And he said, "I'll take you for a meal."

I said, “All right.”

He said, "Do you want to go somewhere posh, or somewhere interesting?”

I said, "Let's go somewhere interesting."

He said, "Right, I'm going to take you to this restaurant called The Hump." And it's at Santa Monica Airport. And it's a sushi restaurant.

I was like, “Right, okay.” So I had a Mini at the time. And we get in my Mini and we drive off to Santa Monica Airport. And this restaurant was right on the tarmac, like, you could sit in the restaurant (there's nobody else there when we got there, we got there quite early) and you're watching the planes landing on Santa Monica Airport. It's extraordinary. 

And the chef comes out and Neil says, "Just bring us whatever you want. Chef's choice."

So, I'd never really eaten sushi before. So we sit there; we had this incredible meal where they keep bringing these dishes out and they say, “This is [blah, blah, blah]. Just use a little bit of soy sauce or whatever.”  You know, “This is eel.  This is [blah].”

And then there was this one dish where they brought out and they didn't say what it was. It was like “mystery dish”, we had it ... delicious. Anyway, a few more people started coming into the restaurant as time went on.

And we're sort of getting near the end, and I said, "Neil, I can't eat anymore. I'm gonna have to stop now. This is great, but I can't eat–"

"Right, okay. We'll ask for the bill in a minute."

And then the door opens and some very official people come in. And it was the Feds. And the Feds came in, and we knew they were because they had jackets on that said they were part of the Federal Bureau of Whatever. And about six of them come in. Two of them go … one goes behind the counter, two go into the kitchen, one goes to the back. They've all got like guns on and stuff.

And me and Neil are like, "What on Earth is going on?"

And then eventually one guy goes, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't ordered already, please leave. If you're still eating your meal, please finish up, pay your bill, leave."*

[* - delivered in a perfect American ‘serious law agent’ accent/impression]

And we were like, "Oh my God, are we poisoned? Is there some terrible thing that's happened?"  

We'd finished, so we pay our bill.  And then all the kitchen staff are brought out. And the head chef is there. The guy who's been bringing us this food. And he's in tears. And he says to Neil, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes to Neil.  And we leave. We have no idea what happened.

DAVID: But you're assuming it's the mystery dish.

MICHAEL: Well, we're assuming that we can't be going to – we can't be –  it can't be poisonous. You know what I mean? It can't be that there's terrible, terrible things.

So the next day was the Oscars, which is why Neil was in town. Because Coraline had been nominated for an Oscar. Best documentary that year was won by The Cove, which was by a team of people who had come across dolphins being killed, I think.

Turns out, what was happening at this restaurant was that they were having illegal endangered species flown in to the airport, and then being brought around the back of the restaurant into the kitchen.

We had eaten whale – endangered species whale. That was the mystery dish that they didn't say what it was.

And the team behind The Cove were behind this sting, and they took them down that night whilst we were there.

DAVID: That’s extraordinary.

MICHAEL: And we didn't find this out for months.  So for months, me and Neil were like, "Have you worked anything out yet? Have you heard anything?"

"No, I haven't heard anything."

And then we heard that it was something to do with The Cove, and then we eventually found out that that restaurant, they were all arrested. The restaurant was shut down. And it was because of that. And we'd eaten whale that night.

DAVID: And that was your first meeting with Neil Gaiman.

MICHAEL: That was my first meeting. And also in the drive home that night from that restaurant, he said, and we were in my Mini, he said, "Have you found the secret compartment?"

I said, "What are you talking about?" It's such a Neil Gaiman thing to say.

DAVID: Isn't it?

MICHAEL: The secret compartment? Yeah. Each Mini has got a secret compartment. I said, "I had no idea." It's secret. And he pressed a little button and a thing opened up. And it was a secret compartment in my own car that Neil Gaiman showed me.

DAVID: Was there anything inside it?

MICHAEL: Yeah, there was a little man. And he jumped out and went, "Hello!" No, there was nothing in there. There was afterwards because I started putting...

DAVID: Sure. That's a very Neil Gaiman story. All of that is such a Neil Gaiman story.

MICHAEL: That's how it began. Yeah.

DAVID: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens.

MICHAEL: Yeah. Well, we became friends and we would whenever he was in town, we would meet up and yeah, and then eventually he started, he said, "You know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens." And I can remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. And...

DAVID: Were you involved at that point?

MICHAEL: No, no, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day.

DAVID: Right.

MICHAEL: And then Terry Gilliam came along and they were chatting, that was the day they were talking about that or whatever.

And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of like the first episode of Good Omens. And he said – and we started talking about me being involved in it, doing it – he said, “Would you be interested?” I was like, "Yeah, of course."  I went, "Oh my God." And he said, "Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come," and I would read them, and we'd talk about them a little bit. And so I was involved.

But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And so, as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, "I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it." And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, “I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this.”  But I just felt like I don't think I can play Crowley.

DAVID: Of course you can [play Crowley?].

MICHAEL: Well, I just on a sort of, on a gut level, sometimes you have it on a gut level.

DAVID: Sure, sure.

MICHAEL: I can do this.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: Or I can't do this. And I just thought, “You know what, this is not the part for me. The other part is better for me, I think. I think I can do that, I don't think I could do that.”

But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, "Well, he wants me to play Crowley" – and then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well.  And he hadn't wanted to mention it to me, but he was like, "I think Michael should really play Aziraphale."

And neither of us would bring it up.  And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, "Oh, thank God you said that. I feel exactly the same way." And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, “I think we've got … David Tennant … for Crowley.” And we both got very excited about that.

And then all these extraordinary people started to join in. And then, and then off we went.

DAVID: That's the other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, “Oh, yeah, I've phoned up Frances McDormand, she's up for it.” Yeah. You're, what?

MICHAEL: “I emailed Jon Hamm.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And yeah, and you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognise that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: And had never been turned into anything.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, “Oh, they better not fuck this up.”

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: “And this had better be good.” And I have that part of me. But then, of course, the other part of me is like, “But I'm the one who might be fucking it up.”

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: So I feel that responsibility as well.

DAVID: But we have Neil on site.

MICHAEL: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner …

DAVID: Yeah. I think it takes the curse off.

MICHAEL: … I think it made a massive difference, didn't it? Yeah. You feel like you're in safe hands.

DAVID: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet.

MICHAEL (grimly): No, I know.

DAVID: But it was a -- it's been a -- it's been a joy to work with you on it. I can't wait for the world to see it.

MICHAEL: Oh my God.  Oh, well, I mean, it's the only, I've done a few things where there are two people, it's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon and The Queen, I suppose, in some ways. But, and I've done it, Amadeus or whatever.

This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as “my character” or “my performance as that character”.  I think of it totally as us.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: The two of us.

DAVID: Yes.

MICHAEL: Like they, what I do is defined by what you do.

DAVID: Yeah.

MICHAEL: And that was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this and the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy.

DAVID: Yeah.  Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

MICHAEL: You know, there's, having talked about T.S. Eliot earlier, there's another bit from The Wasteland where there's a line which goes, These fragments I have shored against my ruin.

And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter what, where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard.  I mean, you can, it can take you down at any point.

You have to find this stuff. You have to like find things that will, these fragments that you hold to yourself, they become like a liferaft, and especially as time goes on, I think, as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between surviving this life and going under.

And the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you and what's meaningful to you will be not-meaningful to someone else, you know. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid, it doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them, and find some way to hold them close to you. 

Make it, go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are. Like doing that with him or whatever it is, these are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely.

DAVID: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

DAVID: For talking today and for being here.

MICHAEL: Oh, it's a pleasure. Thank you.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]

first chapter >> last chapter

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He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.

All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.

John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 

“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 

You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 

“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”

His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 

Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 

“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 

“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 

It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 

You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.

“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”

You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 

Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 

But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 

“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”

“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”

“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”

“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”

“I wasn’t thinking!”

“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 

The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 

He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 

That gets you to zip your lips. 

When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 

A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 

He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 

John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 

Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 

Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 

It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 

“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 

His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.

“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”

“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 

“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 

John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 

And then he’s on you.

He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 

You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 

“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 

“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 

John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  

You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 

“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.

“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”

He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 

The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 

It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 

“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”

You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 

“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 

“I—I’ll—”

“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”

“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”

At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 

Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 

Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 

You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 

“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 

You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 

The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 

He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.

Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 

Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 

It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 

It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 

From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 

When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 

He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 

You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 

When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 

Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 

Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 

Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 

The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  

The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 

Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 

The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 

The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 

When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 

You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 

“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 

She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”

You frown. “Gaz?”

“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”

“Way back when?”

“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”

You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”

The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 

The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 

“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.

Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”

“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”

You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”

She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 

“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”

Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 

You nod instead of answering. 

“Did you give it to him?” she asks.

“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 

“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”

Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 

“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 

Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 

“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 

It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 

You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 

When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 

If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 

It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 

If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 

You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 

It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 

It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.

“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 

He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 

You understand. It sits under your skin too. 

"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."

Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.

And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?

[angelltheninth]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do The Hazbin Cast x Reader, where they and Reader are having a romantic moment to themselves, and before anything more could happen, suddenly something or someone ruins the moment?

See... I both hate and love this trope. It's funny as hell, but frustrating as hell too.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Adam, Vox, Valentino x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, interrupted romantic moment, canon typical violence, blood, suggestive, date night

A/N: I would punch anyone who interrupts me. And I'm not a violent person. So uh... these characters have an effect on me lmao.

Charlie acts very calm unless either or both of you is in any state of undress. There’s no one more affectionate than her, displaying that in front of others is fine with her, she wants others to know of her love for you. It’s a different thing if it’s in a more intimate setting where she expected to have alone time with you. With a deep breath, some blushing and a groan she would try to get rid of distractions as soon as possible but at the same time. she would apologize to whoever interrupted you for shooing them away.

Vaggie has a blade at hand and it is promptly thrown next to the head of whoever interrupted you. Deep down she is a huge romantic and enjoys being romanced a lot, on the surface she is a badass fighter and she had an image to uphold with many people. There’s a lot of yelling and cursing, probably more than one threat of killing someone before she is back by your side, grumbling and murmuring to herself about forgetting to lock the damn door.

Alastor threatens to tear apart anyone who interrupts you, he puts that out as a warning because of how many times it’s happened in the past and he’s grown tired of being in a middle of a dance or cuddling and someone barging in wanting something. Usually he’s the one who walks in without knocking, now he’s getting to see how it feels. It doesn’t feel good, a full record scratch, even his shadow looks pissed off at even the slightest interruption.

Lucifer is in good spirits recently so even something as an interrupted date doesn’t get under his skin, if it was before it would have been a different story. Right now wile a little annoyed he can forgive and forget, after all no one saw anything too scandalous, although some would say that seeing the King of Hell in handcuffs is pretty scandalous by itself. As long as this doesn’t happen again it will be fine, although he knows you will tease him for it later.

Angel Dust obviously doesn’t mind it too much, on the surface at least, he is a porn star so getting watched is part of the job. That’s in the studio at least, at the Hotel he has the privacy he never had before, he likes it a lot actually, it’s almost too good to be true. Maybe he will occasionally flirt with or tease who ever interrupted you but in these four walls he is all yours and he won’t let the mood be spoiled by anyone, including his boss.

Husk groans and pulls your face close to his neck to help you hide your flushed face from the onlooker. How is this so perfectly timed, right when he wanted to take your clothes off and have a bit of fun with you someone just had to walk in. Well they’re really lucky he’s not as powerful as he once was otherwise they would be splattered all over the walls right now and would have to put themselves together while he makes out with you.

Sir Pentious hides his face behind his hat the moment someone enters his bedroom and sees you on top of him. Damn it, he told his Egg Boiz to make sure no one enters his bedroom, which also applies to them, until one of you steps out first, no matter what noises are heard from inside. As soon as you’re done and you think you’re gonna sleep he slithers out and starts working on plans for a new machine to make sure no one interrupts you ever again: a doorbell with a laser.

Adam yells at the person who interrupted the two of you because damn he’s been waiting the whole day to have you all to himself, all moody and pent up. This is his time with you, which means that no one gets to tell him he’s needed elsewhere before he’s done with you. He wraps you up with his wings if he sees you’re getting embaressed but really now, considering everything you do together getting watched shouldn’t be an issue.

Vox flinches when he gets a ping that someone’s crossed in front of his cameras which he set up just so no one catches the two of you in a compromising position. He sighs as he pulls away and covers you with a blanket, hiding your body from anyone’s view but his, which is funny because he has an insight into almost everyone else’s love life. For a demon like that he wants to keep his own affairs fairly private, at least the bedroom kind.

Valentino grins at the person who walks in on the two of you, he has zero shame regardless of your own level of shame he will brag about everything that happens and if someone sees it then even better. Besides he is the Overlord of the the porn industry, you knew things like this could happen when you began your relationship with him. He is so comfortable in fact that he will just keep going, kissing you occasionally to tell you that you’re doing a good job in front of a crowd.

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter two

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: backyard barbecues, the local market, and an unexpected discovery that has you wondering what exactly you may have just gotten yourself into. (5k)

warnings: angst (this early on, i know i'm sorry but it's for the plot i promise <3), lando and max f bickering like an old married couple

a/n: she's here!!!! sorry it took a little longer than expected but i hope you all enjoy this chapter :) pls feel free to come chat in my asks if you want to, i'd love to hear what everyone think about it so far!

previous chapter | masterlist

“Are these guys rich or something?”

Camille voices exactly the thought running through your mind as you roll to a stop to the address Lando had texted you yesterday, gawking out at the sprawling acreage in front of you. 

You peer at the impressive villa through the windshield, taking in everything with baited breath. She’s absolutely right. 

This house has to be two, if not three times the size of the one you’re all staying at, and that’s just what you can see so far. Vines bursting with colorful flowers crawl up white stone walls, curling around trellises of even more foliage, shutters on huge windows. There’s even a massive fountain in the middle of the courtyard, pristine marble, spewing crystal clear water in streams. 

It’s a classic old money countryside villa—worth millions, you assume, not even taking in the gathering of vintage and expensive sports cars parked along the cobblestone driveway. You suddenly feel so, so small compared to the extravagance of just the exterior of the place. 

Who are these people? 

A guy with brown curls similar to Lando’s pulls open the door when you ring the bell, in the middle of yelling something at someone further inside the house, before turning his gaze on you all. His face lights up in recognition at the sight of you. “Oh, hey, you’re the girl Lando won’t shut up about! I’m Max, but I’m sure he’s told you all about me, hasn’t he?” 

So this is Max. Lando’s told you a little about him, but mainly just funny stories. You wonder if Max knows his best friend is going around telling girls he’s just met about the time Max walked into a glass sliding door. 

“A little bit, not much. It’s nice to put a face to the name though!” You say politely. 

Max sighs dramatically, shaking his head in faux disappointment. He and Lando must be close. “I’m the best part of his life, and he doesn’t think to share it! What a knob. Anyways, welcome, come on in, make yourselves at home!” 

He ushers you all inside, leading you through the house and out huge double French doors leading to the backyard. The rest of their group sits on couches gathered around a stone fire pit, drinks in hand, chatting amongst themselves until they see you all coming. Max does the introductions between your two groups, but there’s one person missing. The one person you were looking forward to seeing again is nowhere to be found. 

Max must notice how your eyes search for Lando, because he grins knowingly. “He’ll be out in a bit. Work called.” 

“Oh, what does he do?” Samira chimes in. You fight the urge to throw a stone at her, because you know what she’s doing. She’s getting information on Lando because you haven’t got the guts to do it yourself yet. 

“Has he not told you yet?” Max raises a brow, taking a sip of his drink. When you shake your head, he presses his lips together, like he’s debating whether or not to tell you himself. “Yeah, sorry, I think I’m gonna stay out of this one. He gets pissy when I meddle with his budding relationships.” 

Budding relationship. Your face flames hot at the insinuation, but Samira takes it in stride, raising a skeptical brow. 

“What, is he in the mafia or something?” 

“‘Course not, that’s ridiculous. Pretty boy like him, he’d never make it in the mafia,” Max snorts. “No, he’s…look, it’s not really my place to say. I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready.” 

Lando materializes from inside at that very moment, brows furrowed. There’s a tic going off in his jaw and he looks a little pissed off about something, but as soon as he looks up and sees that there’s company, he composes himself in a split second. 

“Hey, guys!” He chirps, hand raising in a wave. He makes his way over to where you all are, plopping down in the empty spot beside you without hesitation. “Glad you could make it.” 

“Thanks for the invite,” Maren replies, ever the polite one. “And the coffee yesterday.” 

Max makes an offended noise from the back of his throat at his friend. “You bought them coffee yesterday? Where was mine? You never buy me coffee.” 

“Mate, you don’t even drink coffee!” 

“Maybe I would if you bought it for me!” 

The two boys continue to bicker with each other in the same way all evening, which leads you to believe this is just how they are with one another. It gives Lando another dimension in your mind, and you like it.

There are a handful of common interests amongst your friends and Lando’s, ones that spark conversation immediately. As the night goes on, it feels like you’ve all been friends for a while, and you’re glad. Part of you was worried things would be awkward between everyone, but thankfully that isn’t the case.

It passes the time quicker than you expect. Soon enough it’s nearing midnight and you’re close to nodding off onto Lando’s shoulder, fighting to stay awake and looped into the ongoing conversation despite the sleep threatening to overtake you.

It certainly doesn’t help that he exudes warmth from where you’ve wound up pressed against each other on the small couch. You turn your head to look at him, to take in the little details of him. The angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose. The smattering of moles across his face and neck.

One wayward curl hangs over his forehead, and you want to reach out, brush it away. You don’t think you’re quite at that stage of comfort with each other yet, but then he tears his attention away from the rest of the group and meets your gaze with what you can only describe as pure fondness dripping from his lazy grin. 

“You alright?” He says softly, shifting his body to face you a little more. 

You nod, because you’re more than alright. For the first time in a while, everything feels just the way it should be. “Are you?” 

“Hm?” Lando replies noncommittally, sipping his drink. “Fine, why?” 

“Earlier, after your phone call, you seemed…upset. I don’t mean to pry, I just wanted to see if everything was alright.” 

“Oh, that? Nah, that was nothing, just my boss. Wanted to talk work stuff, but I wasn’t feeling it, y’know?” He shrugs. It feels like there’s more to what he’s saying, but you don’t want to push too hard. You’re still familiarizing yourself with him. “You’re sweet to check on me, though.” 

“Okay. But if you, um, if you need to talk or anything, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Lando traces a finger briefly over the thin strap of your dress, just over your shoulder, before dropping his chin into his palm. You already know he’s about to change the subject. Involuntarily, you shiver at his touch, and he definitely notices, because he suddenly looks a little smug.

“Pretty dress,” He hums, tilting his head. 

You weren't trying to make a good impression on Lando, but you weren't exactly not trying, if that makes sense. It doesn't really make sense to you, but you’d gone for cute but comfy with a dress you’d borrowed, hoping it says you’d made an effort, but not too much of one. 

Suddenly you can’t remember what you were just thinking about not being at a certain stage of comfort with one another. Is it weird that you're secretly pleased he liked it enough to mention it?

“It’s not mine,” You say softly. Lando lets out a noise of question. “I borrowed it from Maren.” 

“Ah. Well, you should definitely get one for yourself then. It’s a nice color on you.” 

You want to say thank you, or really just say anything at all, but the moment your gaze flicks back up to his, you’re lost in his eyes again. Everything around you blurs into the background until it feels like it’s just the two of you. You’re teetering on the edge of something, and fuck, it would be so easy to just go over. To let yourself fall and fall and fall into his waiting arms at the bottom. 

Suddenly you hear your own voice in your head.

Don’t get attached. 

Clearing your throat, you pull back from Lando as smooth as you can manage with him muddling up your brain like this. “It’s late. We should get going,” You say, a tad louder than necessary. 

“She’s right,” Camille chimes in, taking note of the slight urgency in your tone. “We’ve got a guided hike in the morning—sunrise, can you believe it?” 

Lando’s mouth dips into a tiny frown for a moment, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared. He nods understandingly. “Sure. I’ll walk you out.” 

You all say your goodbyes and thank you’s, to which the boys wholeheartedly agree you should all do this again sometime before you part ways. 

Lando trails behind a bit like he’s unsure, but catches up to you quickly on the way out, shoulder bumping against yours lightly as you fall into step with each other. His hand brushes yours and lingers a little, pinkies almost intertwining. 

“Tonight was nice,” He says casually. 

“Yeah, it was,” You agree, bobbing your head. 

“Would you—I dunno, maybe want to hang out again?”

“With you guys? ‘Course we would, I’m sure the girls would love to.” You smile, casting a glance at your friends. They’ve all coincidentally already gotten into the car, but if you squint hard enough you can see them gawking at Lando and yourself through the windshield.

How very not subtle of them. 

Lando rocks on the balls of his feet almost nervously, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “No, I meant, like…just the two of us.” 

“You mean, like, alone?” 

“A date. I’m trying to ask you out on a date,” He blurts, nose scrunching. “And failing miserably apparently.” 

“Oh!” You feel your face burn hot, yet you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. You’re about to take him up on the offer, but before you can say a word, another voice pops into the conversation. 

“Yes! She says yes! Whatever you’re asking, her answer is yes!” Samira yells through the window enthusiastically, muffled through the glass but still very audible.

Neither you nor Lando can stop the laughs that escape your mouths, especially when you turn around and all three girls are shooting you excited thumbs ups. 

“Guess that’s settled then,” You giggle, turning back to face him. 

“It’s a date.” He pushes forward, catching you by surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. As cliche as it sounds, the touch of his lips against your skin, although fleeting, sends a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. “I’ll text you later to plan, yeah? Get home safe.” 

He waits for you to pull around the circular driveway, and as his waving form gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, a glimmer of hope worms its way through you. 

In the back of your mind, you know you should keep it in check. This could be totally casual. A short summer fling that won’t hurt anyone no matter how it ends. But maybe, just maybe, it could turn into something more. 

-------

Your schedules don't end up giving you a free afternoon together until a few days later, though you come to realize it only makes you look forward to seeing Lando again even more. 

You're supposed to be meeting him at the local market in the center of town at half past one, but you find yourself there early, wanting to get a lay of the land before he gets there.

Evidently Lando had the same idea, because you spot him within the first few steps into the open air marketplace, squatting next to a stand with crates and buckets of bright flowers. He’s already got a bouquet clutched in his hands, but still he browses through the different bunches. 

“Flowers for Max?” You joke. 

Lando shoots to his feet so fast he nearly hits his head on the lightbulb hanging above, only managing to miss it by mere inches as he startles at the sudden voice. When he realizes it’s just you, he snorts with laughter. “He wishes! They’re for you, actually.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you,” He says teasingly. You don’t even know what to say. Flowers on the first date might be normal, yet nobody’s ever done it for you before. You’re touched, but he must take your silence as something else, because his smile drops the tiniest bit. “Unless you see something you like better? I can still put these back.” 

You study the flowers he’s picked out already. A little on the smaller side, it boasts a beautiful mix of both soft and brighter colors while still being simple—it’s exactly the sort of thing you would’ve chosen if you were buying flowers for yourself. “They’re perfect.” 

He pays for the flowers and passes them over to you with the biggest smile on his face, one that grows even bigger when you tuck them carefully into the crook of your arm after giving the delicate blossoms a sniff. 

You notice the camera hanging around his neck at that moment, despite knowing close to nothing about golf, you do know a thing or two about photography. “Golfer and photographer? Impressive.” 

“Amateur at best.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you're just being modest.” 

“Not even a little bit. I just enjoy taking pictures of things I like.” 

He swings around to face you fully, bringing the camera up to his eye and pausing only a second to make sure you're in focus before snapping a photo of you. The shutter clicks twice before you have the sense to hold up a hand out in front of you, a surprised laugh spilling from your mouth. Even then he grins, takes another one before lowering the camera. "What, you don't like having your photo taken?" 

“I’m just not very photogenic!” 

Lando scoffs immediately, shooting you a pointed look. “That is such a lie.” 

“I probably just broke your fancy expensive camera,” You joke. 

“We’ll just have to wait til I get it developed and see. I think it’ll turn out wonderful.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” 

“I’ll buy you dinner. If I’m right, then…you let me buy you dinner.” 

You let out a noise of surprise. “Well, that doesn’t seem very fair, does it? You’d have to buy me dinner either way.” 

“I can think of worse things than taking a pretty girl out for a nice meal.” His words take you by surprise, but judging by the smug grin on his face, Lando takes pride in eliciting a reaction from you. “Shall we?” And just like that, he’s sauntering off down the path like he didn’t just leave you at a loss for words, pep in his step even as he turns around to shoot you a roguish smile. “You coming or what?” 

You push aside the fluttering in your chest, giving your head an amused shake before catching up with him. It’s cute that he thinks he’s funny. Even cuter that he seems rather eager to take you out on a second date before the first one has even started. 

The two of you wander through the market aimlessly, stopping here and there at various stalls to have a look around. If you had the means, you’d buy everything you see. You wind up picking up some gorgeous looking fruit and a bottle of locally pressed wine, a few small souvenirs for your family back home, but the most important thing you buy isn’t even for you. 

Lando had lingered at a stall selling handmade jewelry early on, seemingly interested in a woven bracelet of blues and whites, but didn't pick it up. Part of you wonders why, but it sparks an idea in your head. 

You tug at Lando’s arm lightly, smiling guiltily when he turns to look at you. “I think I left my phone at that fruit stand a few stalls back.” 

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your body, you muppet,” He chides, shaking his head fondly. “C’mon, let’s find it.” 

“No, I can get it. Why don’t you find us something good for lunch? I’m starving.” 

“Are you sure?” Lando cocks his head, shoulder bumping against yours. “I don’t mind.” 

“I’ll be right back,” You promise. To sweeten the deal, you make the bold move of pressing a kiss to his cheek. He freezes under your touch, but you pass it off as him not expecting it and being taken by surprise. “Two minutes, okay? Maybe less.” 

As soon as you confirm he isn’t paying any attention to you, you slip back through the crowd, finding the same stall and buying the bracelet he’d been looking at. You tuck it safely into your pocket, quickly making your way back to Lando before he realizes you’ve been gone long and comes looking for you. 

“All good?” He asks upon noticing you reappear by his side. 

You wiggle your phone in the air. “Never better. What's for lunch?” 

Lando grins happily, reciting the spiel that the very friendly older man at the food stand gave to him when he’d decided on the delicious looking food. Sure, maybe he stumbles over his pronunciation a little bit, but you find his giggled embarrassment sweet. 

You find a semi-secluded bench a little jaunt away to enjoy your food, and you do enjoy it. You think it might be one of the best things you’ve ever had, and when you tell Lando, he looks pleasantly surprised. As you continue to savor every bite, Lando’s eyes light up with amusement, so much so that you wonder what’s suddenly got him all smiling big like this. 

“What?” You say incredulously. 

He gestures to the lower part of his face. “You’ve got a little…” 

Mortified, you mirror his actions on your own face, searching for the food you’ve somehow gotten smudged on your chin. After a few tries that have him shaking his head, you whine, “Help me, please?”, to which he obliges with a soft chuckle. He reaches out, thumb rubbing at the corner of your mouth briefly. 

This moment almost seems too intimate, but then again, so have a lot of moments between the two of you. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’ve still got something on your face, but then his gaze flicks down to your lips again almost imperceptibly, and you have an inkling of what’s about to happen. 

“Did you get it?” You ask softly. You’re not sure why you break the silence, but it's definitely not because you don’t want him to kiss you. If you think about it, you’ve wanted Lando to kiss you this whole time. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I got it," He replies. His hand lingers, long fingers splaying flat under the curve of your jaw now. You surprise yourself by shifting forward slightly, as if encouraging Lando to close the gap. He leans in closer and closer still, and your eyes fall shut on their own accord, heartbeat hammering against your rib cage. 

You nearly melt the moment his lips touch yours, held up only by the firm grasp of his hand cupping your face. It’s a little awkward with the food in between the two of you blocking you from pushing closer to him, but you make it work, reaching over it to wrap your fingers around Lando’s forearm. You feel like you need it to ground yourself, because holy shit, you’re kissing him. 

Well, more like he’s kissing you, because you’re definitely not the one leading the way. Lando kisses like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and judging by how you feel weak in the knees when you’re not even standing, he does know exactly what he’s doing. 

You’re falling, falling, falling, getting lost in him, until— 

“Wait, hang on,” He breathes, pulling away. Your eyes flutter open in an almost dazed sort of way, focusing on him in hopes of finding him in the same state, but all you’re met with is…guilt? Sadness? Shame? Maybe a mixture of everything, you’re not sure. All you know is that it has your heart plummeting in your chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Everything hits you at once, and suddenly you’re crashing back down to reality. Lando thinks kissing you was a mistake. You were so sure he liked you back, sure enough to go on a date with him, and now here you are with egg on your face, feeling unbelievably stupid. Hurt. 

“I’m gonna—I have to go,” You mumble, scrambling to your feet. You don’t even have an excuse prepared, you just need to get out of here, get away from Lando before you spontaneously combust from the sheer embarrassment. 

His hand encircles your wrist before you can make it even a step away. 

“No, no, don’t! Please, just let me…let me explain. I promise things will all make sense in a second, if you’ll just hear me out,” He says pleadingly. Despite your better judgment, you sit back down, expression guarded. Lando blows out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. “Look, I like you. I really like you, and I wish things were as simple as that, but there’s things I’ve not told you. Things that, if you knew, you might not want to be with me.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, burying your burning face into your hands with a muffled groan. “Oh my god, you are in the mafia, aren’t you?” 

“The—what?” Lando blurts, sounding wildly confused. “No, I’m not, I’m not in the mafia. Are you mad? I’m a Formula 1 driver!” 

You crack one eye open, then the other. “Formula 1.” You repeat, disbelieving. “Like, the racing thing?”  

He nods enthusiastically, tells you everything—how his childhood dream turned into a career, how he gets to travel all around the world doing what he loves. The fame, the lifestyle, the opportunities he’s worked so hard for, all while sounding entirely humble and grateful for everything and everyone who’ve gotten him to where he is today. 

It’s impressive, to say the least. The fact that he’s still fairly young and has already accomplished more than what some people have in a whole lifetime. Then he gets to how the chaos that doing what he does at the level he does it at wreaks havoc on other parts of his life, and you feel a wave of sympathy roll over you. 

The tradeoff for all that success is not getting to have a normal life in almost every aspect, and given the downward set of his brow as he tells you about it, this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation with someone. 

“It makes being in a relationship…difficult, is the best way I can describe it. I’m never in one place more than a week most times, and the whole time zones thing makes it harder too. And after these two weeks are up, I’m already off to somewhere else, jumping right back into the second half of the season and hitting the ground running.” 

Realization hits you like a truck at this point, and you have to fight the urge to laugh out loud. Of course Lando is who he is. Of course you had to form a connection with someone with a life as complicated and as far away from your own as possible, someone who couldn’t be in a normal relationship even if he wanted to. 

“I wish it were different, but I just—I wanted you to know what you might be getting into if we…” He trails off, but you know what he means. If we want to get involved with each other. If we want to be together. 

“So like, long distance, but infinitely harder.” You’re doing your best to put a light spin on the massive amount of new information you’ve just acquired, but you’re barely managing to process it all, let alone even think about what it would be like to date someone as well known as Lando. 

“Yeah, something like that,” He says softly, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. “It’s—well, it’s a lot of baggage for anyone to have to deal with. Lots of eyes and ears, pretty public. Not really your cup of tea, I’ve noticed.” 

He’s right. You’ve never been one to enjoy being the center of attention, preferring to fly under the radar. Blend into the background. And you hate to say it, but knowing all of what he’s just told you changes things. You don’t think you can handle being thrust into the public eye, and it makes you feel like the most selfish person in the world to walk away from him just because of who he happens to be. 

Your life would be forever altered, your sense of privacy and security gone, and that isn’t something you want to compromise. You’re comfortable being nobody significant. With Lando, that would change, no matter how many measures you take to make sure it doesn’t. 

As much as you’ve come to like him—and you really like him—it’s just not something you can see yourself being fully okay with. 

“I’m so sorry, Lando,” You say quietly. He just smiles sadly, like he already knew it was coming, and you can't help but think about how many relationships—platonic or romantic—that he's lost out on because of his status. The thought alone makes you feel even worse. “I like you too, but I can’t—I don’t think I can be what you want me to be. It’s not me, it’s not the way I can live my life.” 

“Don’t be sorry. You haven’t got a reason to be,” He murmurs, thumb rubbing across your knuckles comfortingly. “Knew it was too good to be true, didn’t I?” 

“I’m sorry,” You say again, hoping that Lando knows you truly mean it. “I wish it were different, but—”

Lando shakes his head, interrupting before you can grasp for any other ways to apologize. He squeezes your hand reassuringly again. “Hey. It’s alright, I promise. I’d never ask anyone to do something they aren’t comfortable with. Especially not you.” 

Even when he’s sad, he’s still so thoughtful. It would take a different kind of awful monster not to want to be with him. Apparently that monster is you. 

You wish you were someone else, someone who could take huge changes in stride and never miss a step, but you’re not. Someone who knows what they want and goes for it—who knows who they want and doesn’t let anything get in their way. 

Unfortunately, you’re not that kind of person. 

“What do we do now?” 

Lando drops your hand to run his fingers through his curls, down to the back of his neck sheepishly. “Dunno about you, but I’ve—d’you think there’s any chance we can still be friends? I really do enjoy spending time with you lot, we all do.” 

“Friends would be nice,” You say softly. It feels strange to agree with him so wholeheartedly. 

Maybe it’ll be awkward between the two of you, maybe you won’t even be able to sit next to each other with what’s happened today, but you can’t bring yourself to care all that much. The only thought running through your mind is that you don’t want to lose Lando, even as just a friend. 

You’ve gotten attached. 

The bracelet you’d bought Lando burns a hole through your pocket. It would be weird to give it to him now, after you’d just turned him down, but you can’t exactly just return it either. You don’t really want to. 

Maybe it won’t go to him, but you’re sure you’ll find something to do with it someday.

The girls are waiting in the living room when you finally make your way home, gathered on the sofa with identical innocent smiles like you hadn’t seen them with their heads poked through the curtains. Samira bounces off the cushions with what you can only describe as a gleeful cackle to grab your flowers, showing them off to the other two like a game show host before grabbing your hand and dragging you into the center of their blanket pile. 

You know they're expecting good news and you wish you could give it to them, but you can’t. 

“So??? How’d it go?” 

“He got her flowers, obviously it went well!” 

“Okay, spill, now,” Camille presses, easing the bouquet out of Samira’s hands and setting it on the coffee table. “What’s he like, what’d you do—” 

“When’s your second date?” chimes in Maren excitedly. The other two nod their vigorous agreement. 

“Lando’s amazing,” You sigh, letting yourself fall back against the plush pillows. “He’s super sweet and really funny, we walked around and looked at all the vendors, and then we had lunch and talked for ages, and…there won’t be a second date.”

“What? That’s impossible, you guys were like, made for each other!” 

You sigh, rub at a flower petal that’s fallen away from the bouquet. “It’s complicated. I don’t—I’m not ready to get into all of it again this soon, but long story short, our lives are just too different. Being with him would mean compromising things I’m just not ready to lose right now.” 

If any of them wants to push for a better explanation, and you know they do, they refrain from doing so. They know you’ll tell them when you’re ready. 

But even Samira can tell you’re not quite as okay as you insist you are, and she’s been rooting for you extra hard. She leans her head onto your shoulder, squeezes your hand reassuringly. “You did what was best for you, and that’s all that matters.” 

“We agreed to still be friends, so we can still hang out with the guys and stuff like that, but—I mean, yeah, it just didn’t work out.” You don’t think you sound very convincing at all, but it’s the bed you've made, you’ve got to lay in it. “I just don’t really want to talk about it right now, but it's fine. I'm fine.” 

It has to be. You have to be. You’ve made sure of it.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new chapter :)

[innerfare]

Smutty Mihawk Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Mihawk headcanons

Genre: pure smut (afab!reader)

CW: a little bit of knife play (cutting clothes not skin), dirty talk, low-key masochist Mihawk, exhibitionism on the down low

———

Bisexual icon.

King of sexual tension.

Marine hunter? More like marine fucker. 

Is eternally bored, but has a keen interest in lingerie, and he rather likes cutting it off you. He never thought he would enjoy drawing a knife or sword during sex, but he finds the trust you put in him invigorating. 

A very passionate lover. His insistence on being the best carries over into the bedroom. As such, he’s no fan of quickies. He wants you tied up in his four poster bed, the curtains pulled back to allow moonlight to filter in from the balcony, your naked body sprawled across his silk sheets until the sun rises. 

Talks dirty but getting a moan out of this man is like pulling teeth. Also won’t tell you if you’ve pleased him. Your only indication is that he comes back for more. 

Of course, if you do want to get a moan out of him, the best way is to hurt him. Likes if you rake your nails up and down his back, yank his hair, bite him (especially the spot between his thumb and index finger after sucking his fingers), squeeze his face in your hands, maybe even slap him.

And then there's his bondage kink. If you tie him up, it better be to whip him. He'll start out goading you in that bored tone of his, accusing you of half-assing it, telling you to hit him harder. You know you've gotten to him when the comments cease and he bites his lip, his brow furrowing.

Doesn’t just fuck. He spars. 

Saying it again, cannot emphasize this enough, he loves a biter.  

Wants a partner who wants to be chased, as most people either throw themselves at his feet or run away with no hope of being caught. Will chase you down the halls of his castle and ravage you wherever he catches you. Poor Perona has a list of sofas she no longer sits on, counters she refuses to put food on, and entire staircases she avoids. There are even certain mirrors she doesn’t want to look in, even if the marks have been wiped away. Zoro doesn’t fully believe her when she gives him the rundown, thinking nobody can be that feral, particularly not his stoic teacher, who in his mind is the picture of restraint and civility, until he’s training by himself one day in the courtyard and happens to see you appear in one of the towers, only for Mihawk to appear after you and rather lewd sounds to follow. Also sees Mihawk fucking you hard in a window one time, and over a balcony another time. Zoro quickly learns not to enter the wine cellar between the hours of six and ten PM. 

Lives for dangerous sexual situations. Has fucked you in the woods at night despite the menagerie of dangerous beasts running around, has fucked you from behind in an open window several stories high, your front half hanging out, has even fucked you in his small boat on stormy, raging seas. Every duel he has ever enjoyed has been charged with sexual tension.

In addition to these trysts, he wants you in his bed every night after dinner. You either shower or bathe together, and then he works you into a sweat so you need another one.  

Worries deeply if you ever reject his advances, thinks it must be his fault. “Have I displeased you in some way? Tell me, my love, and I will make it right.” It’s times like this that any veneer of disinterest falls away and you see just how much he cares for you. 

Has certain pet names reserved for the bedroom. “My mewling kitten,” is his current favorite. 

Always does that thing where he strokes your temple with his thumb when he fucks you in missionary. It’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture when you’re struggling to take all of him, but it riles you up more than it calms you down. Uses his other hand to pull one of your legs up as far as it will go, so he’s pinning you down but comforting you about it. 

Loves to feel you up in the bath.

If he has more than one glass of wine, he will be going down on you. The more wine he has, the bigger his appetite for you. It gets worse with stronger liquor. When the Red Hair pirates come to stay and Shanks insists on breaking into the whiskey Mihawk keeps for that very occasion, you know you won’t be sleeping until they leave (and that Shanks will be going down on you, too). 

His favorite is to go down on you on his dining table. It makes you feel very exposed considering he strips you down but remains clothed (as is common with Mihawk when he's domming) and the dining room is very large with many doors that anyone could walk through. But that's what Mihawk enjoys about it.

If you go down on him, his hands will most certainly be in your hair. He loves smoothing your hair, and if it’s long, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail to get the best possible view of your pretty face. 

Once moaned Shanks’ name in bed. Neither of you ever addressed it, but you do always flirt with Shanks when he and his crew come around because it seems to peak your lover’s interest. You haven’t proposed a threesome because you don’t want to share him with the Red-Haired drunk. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[tsumuus]

crushing on you | captains

a/n short headcanons on if the haikyuu captains had a crush on you. not proofread.

characters tetsuro kuroo, daichi sawamura, wakatoshi ushijima, shinsuke kita

masterlist

tetsuro kuroo

you two have been friends since the beginning or high school

he noticied his feelings for you after a bout a year

realizing how much he enjoyed your company and how his heart skipped a beat when you were near

he gets more flirty

making playful comments and constantly teasing you

the way you react confirms his suspicions as to whether you like him back

still takes him a while to put two and two together

you often visit him during practice

but only because he practically begs you to come watch and support him

he does it so he has an excuse to spend time together

he'd try to impress you with his skills

often looking to see if you were watching

becomes more protective than he already is

invites you to his games aswell

makes sure you have a good seat so he can see you cheering him on from the stands

keeps his feelings to himself for a few months

unsure of how to proceed with putting your friendship at risk

he asks kenma for advice

he seems disinterested

but kenma knows you too and thinks the two of you couldn;t e anymore perfect for each other

and encourages kuroo to just take a chance

daichi sawamura

you and daichi have been friends since middle school

bonding during group projects

you two always seemed to end up be paired together

he realized his feelings much later

probably around second year of high school

he noticed how much he relied on your support and how his heart always seemed to flutter at your smile

he's protective ash

he becomes moe playful the closer you two get

he loves telling jokes he knows will make you smile

very attentive to all your needs

tired? he'll take notes for you so you could sleep during class

bored? he'll tell you funny stories about tanaka and nishinoya embarrassing themselves until you don't seem as bored

anything like that

keeps his feelings to himslef for a while

he confides in sugawara who teases him for waiting so long to do anything about his feelings

which leaves him a blushing mess

encourages him that theres nothing to worry about and to just go for it

wakatoshi ushijima

you and ushijima became friends at the start of high school

he just loved how determined and hard working you are

took him a long time to realize his feelings

hes a little dense, not stuopid, and thats okay

he just finally seemed to realized why he felt so different whenever you were around and how much he appreciated your company

he might not notice it but he becomes a tiny bit more reserved and quiet after

observing you from a distance and lowk getting a little flustered whenever youre around

so so so protective

like hes afraid to get too close to you but also doesn't want anyone else to get near you either

you guys have a similar schedule, just switch volleyball for wtv club your interested in, so you two walk from place to place together everyday

he'll send you pictures of little things that remind him of you

not realizing how initimate it usually is

i don't think he keeps it to himself for a while

i think after he figures it out himself he would bring it up with tendo and semi rather sooner than later

the two of them quick to offer any help to confess to you

they think youre the sweetest and a perfect fit for their captain

shinsuke kita

you two have been friends since elementary school

growing up in the same rural area and attending all the same schools

he probably didn't realize his feelings for you until like second or third year of high school

since you often came to games and practices to show your support

it took a lot of teasing from his juniors to finally realize

he's always been attentive and protective

but it reaches a whole new level since he realized his feelings

lowkey becomes more playful

matches your playful personality

which lowk confuses you because he's never acted like this before you think theres something off about him

but he's just nervous

sure he's had crushes before

but your his longest friend, theres something different about this situation than all the rest

he's always checking in on you

asking to spend more time than usual

he feels as if he should keep his feelings in

not wanting to ruin what the two of you have

also because graduation is coming up and he still wants to see you after

doesn't want to ruin the whole friendship if you happened to not feel the same

but his team sees how good you two are for each other and encourages him to take a leap of faith before he even has a chance to ask for their advice

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[inbarfink]

After all these years, ‘I Remember You’ is still one of the great highlights of Adventure Time Storytelling. And not just in the basic ‘what???? Silly children’s cartoon does something SAD??? HOLY SHIT MIND BLOWN’ way. But with the execution of that Something Sad. How it manages to pack so many Complex Emotions into just 11-minutes of television. And especially the way it utilizes the basic Adventure Time format for that purpose.

So Adventure Time is a Board-based show. Each episode has an outline pitched and written down by the writer’s room, and then this outline goes to a team of (usually) two Storyboard Artists who develop that simple outline into a full story. And with the show’s art-style deliberately eschewing staying perfectly ‘on-model’ in favor of having the animators take direct reference from how the different storyboarders draw the characters

And the show being generally extremely versatile in terms of themes and tone - AT has allowed a lot of their Storyboarders to really express themselves and their unique artistic vision as part of the Big Collaborative Narrative that is Adventure Time. 

Now, the Boarders who worked on ‘I Remember You’ are Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar. These two were a Storyboarding Duo from the start of S4 and until Sugar left the AT Crew during S5, and they always struck me as a curious combination. I think really from all of the individual boarders working on AT during that time, these two really are the closest to having like… Totally Opposite Artistic Sensibilities as boarders. 

With Sugar favoring a style that is very loose and sketchy and also very rounded. Focusing on expressions and subtle body language and lighting. And being famous for going deep in depth into Big Moments of Emotional Catharsis

And Sanchez having a very clear art style that emphasizes strong silhouettes and clear lines that suggest flatness. Focusing more on major poses and the character’s positions in the space. And having just a really great eye for AT’s brand of silly humor.

Like, I almost kinda suspect these two were paired together so they can each cover for the other’s “weakspots” in writing ‘Adventure Time’. 

And there were a few episodes that did some really interesting stuff with this very contrasting pair - ‘Jake the Dog’ is another example. Giving most of the Farmworld scenes to Sugar and most of the Time Room scenes to Sanchez both plays to their personal strengths as storyboarders and helps to emphasize the strong emotional contrast between these two scenarios. 

And ‘I Remember You’ is actually kinda unique among Adventure Time episodes cause… Most episodes will have the two boarders alternate between working on the episode throughout it. Like you’d have Boarder A draw a bit and then Boarder B and then Boarder A again… But “I Remember You” is divided between Sanchez and Sugar… basically perfectly in the middle.

So the entirety of the first half of the episode was boarded by Sanchez

Until Ice King pushes Marceline and then leaves the room in shame.

And then, Sugar takes over.

And, like, even if you don’t know anything about the Behind the Scenes of Adventure Time or who Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar even are - the Shift is noticeable. The shift in tone, in narrative focus, in the subtleties in which the characters are drawn. 

The entire first half of the episode has this thin veneer of just being a Silly Goofy Ice King Episode. Sanchez’s talent for Adventure Time’s brand of comedy is on full display… but there is also this underlying feeling that Something is Happening just under the surface. And these hints of the Big Emotions of ‘IRY’ expressed via Sanchez’s kinda goofy style really create this balance between putting the audience into a false sense of security that this is just a Very Normal Episode about two characters hanging out and the Tension constantly brewing in the subtext. 

And then it all comes to a blow.

And then the Shift happens. And now we are in Sugar’s court.

And this subtle shift in the artstyle and storytelling also coincide with Marceline finally openly expressing her feelings and the Reveal of Simon and Marcy's shared past. The episode changes focus from Ice King's silly antics to Marceline's feelings. Everything changes, everything in the first part of the episode gets recontextualized and... even on the most basic level, the episode is now Noticeably Different.

I would almost say that Sanchez’s half of the episode has Ice King define the tone, while Sugar’s half of the episode has Marceline define the tone. But more than anything it’s the catharsis. The reveal and release of those emotions that were building up so expertly through the Sanchez half of the episode. All of the Sugar-boarded scenes in this episode are really heartbreaking on their own, just through the tragedy of the story and Sugar’s expert knowledge of howto convey emotion in the visual medium - but it’s so enchanted by what came before it.

“I Remember You” is truly a great testament to how ‘Adventure Time’ could use every aspect of its medium to tell a great story in such a short time.

[shigayokagayama]

What are the biggest losses between the manga and anime? I just finished watching mp100 and I'm curious what the manga has!

ok biggest losses are kind of hard to define because like. anime and manga are two inherently different mediums and there are a good amount of cuts that improve pacing and then a good amount of cuts that people sort of argue over the merit of so im just going to go for biggest differences. i would also highly recommend reading the manga just because it is a pretty different experience tonally along with the minor plot differences and cut scenes + theres a bunch of omakes that both flesh out characters that dont get too much focus and have some really good bits in them. putting the rest of this post under a cut bc i ramble

mogami arc

this one is kind of inescapable i feel like but the anime version of the mogami arc had a LOT of things trimmed for a couple different reasons. season 2 already got an extra episode in order to do the fire scene as a cliffhanger so with the way things shook out the director had to choose between a. cutting a bunch of stuff out of separation arc to make it one episode so mogami arc couid stay three episode or b. cutting a bunch of stuff out of mogami arc so separation arc could stay two episodes. imo they made the right choice, whats even the point of adapting mob psycho if you dont get confession arc right, but some of the cuts to mogami arc will be dearly missed and others will be fought over to the end of time. cuts include:

minori being established as a brat in a video everyones shown and the video being part of how reigen deduces shes possessed (reigen deducing her possession in the manga is generally just a lot better done and after you read the manga the scene in the anime feels so awkward because you know whats missing

the psychics deciding to band together to beat this little girl to death to save themselves and shinra stepping between them to protect her and getting utterly thrashed, not by mogami, but his fellow psychics

reigen trying to convince mob to leave without him and call for help while he distracts him which leads to this

the general mogamiland section lasting a lot longer and being more brutal (notably the stray cat mob feeds getting killed in front of him)

mob getting fucking torn to pieces by spirits during the fight instead of ambiguously dying offscreen

generally would recommend if nothing else reading the manga version of this arc and confession arc because i feel like these are the only two where you lose like. a significant amount of the story and themes from the cuts. speaking of....

2. WHY THE FUCK DID THEY CUT THIS I WILL BE MAD UNTIL I DIE

maybe its just because i reread this arc on its own probably 50 times before the anime came out but this is the only arc where the cuts actively piss me off because there is absolutely no reason they had to do it. they cut a bunch of important shit, left in things that didnt need to be there, and added scenes that contribute literally nothing to the overall point. if they just did any one of those things or combo of two of those things i wouldnt be as mad but it feels like they put a bunch of filler in then speedran the actual story

cut #1 that pisses me off: HOMOPHOBIA?????

THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A HEART IN HIS EYE. WHY DID THEY NOT INCLUDE THIS. THIS IS THE CULMINATION OF TERUS ARC. THIS IS HIM SEEING THE PERSON HE HAS IDOLIZED AND DEIFIED IN HIS HEAD AT THEIR LOWEST AND STILL CHOOSING TO LOVE HIM, AND THROUGH THIS HE IS CAPABLE OF BEING LOVED EVEN THOUGH HES NOT PERFECT BECAUSE NO ONE IS. WHY WOULD YOU CUT THIS?

cut #2 I NEED WHOEVER CUT THE DIALOGUE FROM THE FIRST PANEL IN PRISON

the lack of inclusion of the first panels dialogue along with the cuts to the mob and shigeo conversation (WHICH WE WILL GET TO) make me think the person who adapted this arc fundamentally misunderstood what was happening. this line. is. THE POINT. THIS ISNT SOME SEPARATE SCARY THING. THIS IS MOB. HE IS CHOOSING TO DO THIS BECAUSE HE IS SCARED AND ANGRY AND HURT BUT HE IS IN CONTROL OF HIS ACTIONS AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN.

cut #3 HE DOESNT WANT TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR HIS ACTIONS

this entire conversation is so good and i was looking forward to watching it voice acted for so long and its just. gone. for me the "i am shigeo kageyama who are you" reveal felt like a gut punch because the opening being "i knew i would be needed" made me go "oh hes like possessed or his powers are sentient or something" and this conversation was the slow unraveling of my view of these as two separate people and instead as a scared, traumatized teenager who has convinced himself that the parts of himself he hates are something else outside of his control instead of an intrinsic part of who he is because if he's convinced that the parts of him that are able to feel desire and frustration and anger and malice are him then he'll lose all these relationships he's worked so hard to cultivate as his perfect, non confrontational self. and of course that isnt true. all his friends and loved ones are making their way to the center of a damn hurricane because they see he's in distress and want to help him. but he cant see that so he pushes them away. ugh. mob. protagonist of all time.

cut #4 WHY WOULD YOU CHANGE THE COMPOSITION OF THIS I CAN LITERALLY SEE HOW THIS WOULD BE ANIMATED IN MY MINDS EYE W

can you imagine how beautiful this would be in motion. just. god.

cut #5 HE WAS TALKING OUT LOUD. REIGEN HEARD ALL THIS

:(

cut #6 the bowling arc

so the scene where reigen takes his shoes off is supposed to be a lot more solemn bc like. taking your shoes off before killing yourself is a trope in japanese media (ive heard it started in media and bled over into real life but i might have it backwards?). reigen knew he was probably going to die. anyway i cant take this scene seriously because of this edit

the bowling arc.

cut #7 WAAAAAAAAAAAA

WAAAAAAAAAAAA *sniff* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

cut #8 homophobia again

rip pensive fruity tea sip

cut #9 mob threw the cake directly in reigens face on purpose

i literally experienced every stage of grief realizing this got changed. why. its so perfect. why would you change this.

3. World Domination arc

so WD arc is in a very interesting place where it had a lot of scenes cut but unlike the other two most of the cut content youre like. yea probably best not to include that. ill start with the good content that got cut then go into the weird content

serizawa got his power drained by toichiro. i am quite sad this scene didnt make it in because its sorta heartbreaking

teru fighting off the claw assassin is shown and we see that teru can both make shadow clones AND hold a barrier while attacking, he seems to be the only esper with this ability!

the reason dimple could tell mob's family was alive is that there was no sense of grudge at the house which would have been left behind by people passing in a violent manner

mob briefly goes unconscious during the start of the toichiro fight and dimple possesses him and says "shit"

dimple possessing mob shoots shibata with a gun

we get mukai lore.

it doesnt make any sense and just raises more questions but we get it.

toichiro has a team of telepaths to recap where everyone is because this arc took an entire calender year to update

literally everyone shows up to fight shimazaki. i cannot stress enough how many people show up to fight shimazaki. it would be faster to list espers who dont show up to fight shimazaki

the middle school delinquents show up and start fighting the claw grunts literally completely out of no where and this is never brought up or referenced ever again

when mob and ritsu get home ritsu says all their stuff is in boxes and they need to hurry and redecorate the house before their parents get home which implies that shou packed the entire households worth of belongings into boxes and hid it somewhere before lighting their house on fire which is such a funny mental image that i cant even be mad at it. loony toons ass plot point.

4. other random interesting cut things

takenaka is just generally more of a bitch during alien arc. "ah i think they took him" remains one of the funniest goddamn panels in the manga

peak

alien arc overall is a lot funnier in the manga, i have a slight preference for the manga version just bc theres a lot of really good bits that didnt make it to anime but the anime version is so heartfelt and nostalgic it makes me happy

between omakes and small things that got cut or changed for the anime teru just feels way more fleshed out in the manga. like. anime teru is a completely different person. its hard to explain if youve never read it.

the all girls school part originally went right before the ghost family stuff and was the beginning of mob's existential crisis about why spirits and people get different treatment but tbh it works well where it is i just wish it werent. like that.

the scene where ritsu and teru shake hands was teru draining ritsus power which he seems to have learned to do from encountering ???%

teru.

ow

thats all i can think of off the top of my head, im sure ill realize i forgot something some time after posting this but. yeah. read the manga its good

[s1m0nth3swag]

More milkman x reader smut but can you do chubby reader?? Please

Yes ofc!

As a chubby guy myself, none of my stories are ever written with a certain body type in mind, BUT obviously, I'm gonna write smth when requested so yeah!

Also I hope its okay that I brought body issues into this because I just think it fit the situation and the idea I had was just immediately "Francis would just be the absolute sweetest when making sure his partner loved themselves as much as he loves them".

Thanks so much for the request, anon!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Smut, more soft, GN!Reader, Chubby Reader, Francis being just a tiny bit obsessed, established relationship, mentions of insecurity/ body image issues, Francis being a sweetheart and showing Reader that he loves them no matter what ♡♡

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

Nothing annoyed you more than the days when you would feel like you didn't look good. You stared at the mirror, looking at your body with slight disgust and disappointment. You felt like you were too big in all the wrong places, and you can't help but hate yourself for it. You should work out, eat less, all that. Instead, you threw on a wide hoodie - one that belonged to your boyfriend Francis, hid your legs with loose fitting pants, and snuggled up on the couch, determined to ignore the thoughts you were having.

Francis was at work, so you were alone, and honestly, that wasn't helping one bit. You knew he'd help you, he always said that he loved you no matter what, not for your body but your soul, or something like that, but right now you doubted his words a little.

Once Francis returned, he found you on the couch still. You were focused on some random show you had put on to distract yourself, but he noticed the way you hugged your body uncomfortably. "You okay, love?" He asked, walking over and sitting down on the couch beside you. You nodded solemnly but didn't look at him. He immediately knew what was going on. He sighed, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you onto his lap, cradling you softly. He placed kisses on your cheeks and neck, murmuring softly. "You know I love you, baby.. you're the absolute most perfect being on the planet for me." He tells you, but your insecurities have long taken over. You cling to him desperately, and even though deep down you knew he wasn't lying, you didn't fully trust his words.

After a few minutes of sitting together, Francis telling you that he loved you and peppering your face with kisses, he softly picked you up and carried you to the bedroom - for a simple milkman, Francis was stronger than he looked.

He muttered something along the lines of showing you that he was being honest before pulling the hoodie off of you. You protested, tried to keep the fabric covering your body, but Francis wouldn't let you. He didn't even give you the chance to say something. Instead, he held your hands over your head and placed soft kisses all over your upper body. He paid special attention to the areas he knew you hated most, muttering praises in between each kiss. You were a flustered mess, and though the feelings about your body didn't magically disappear, they definitely weren't your main focus anymore. The way Francis' lips felt against your now feverish skin was almost heavenly, and you swore he was probably an angel sent to you by God just to help you through life. It would explain a lot, actually.

Your boyfriend took his sweet time with you. He didn't pull off your pants before he was 100% sure that you didn't think about your body type anymore. Soft kisses against your thighs, his hand ghosting over the hem of your underwear as you practically begged him to finally take them off. "Promise you aren't thinking lowly of yourself anymore?" He hummed, grinning against your skin. You whined, pouting. "I promise, jus'.. please..?" You muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Wouldn't be able to deny you any longer anyway." Francis chuckles, sliding your underwear down slowly, making you squirm impatiently. You hated that he was still fully clothed, so you did your best to tug at his shirt, mumbling something about unfairness. "Always so needy.." Your boyfriend hummed, but he gave in to your request, his shirt hitting the ground, his pants following soon after. The only thing separating the two of you were now his boxers - and of course, Francis had to be a dick about taking them off.

"You're so stunning... Do you know that baby?" He purred. "Tell me you know that." His hands slid over your thighs, squeezing lightly as he patiently waits for you to repeat his words. You wanted to protest, but at the same time, you knew he wouldn't let you get off easily. "I know.." You mumble, looking away from him. "Ah-ah. Look at me. Be honest." Francis smiles, placing a kiss against your thigh. You grumbled, looked at him, and repeated your words a little more strongly. "There you go." He hummed in answer, leaning up to press a kiss against your lips.

Francis made a point of giving you praise after every thrust. He refused to go faster since he wanted to make sure you fully understood. It didn't seem to bother him that you almost cried while begging him to move faster. He just kept dragging his hips slowly, mumbling a praise with a shaky voice and pressing kisses onto your cheeks or lips. While sure, it was really sweet, you couldn't help but genuinely want him to be a little rougher. You knew this was soft torture for him as well, since you could feel him twitch inside you, eager to chase after release. Francis only gave in after he had made sure that you knew he really wasn't playing around. He loved you. He didn't want you to feel bad about yourself just because of the way your body looked. You were more than attractive to him, after all.

You whined when he finally thrust into you properly, clenching around him as you gripped onto his back harshly. Francis let out a soft groan, snuggling his face against your neck as he finally allowed both of you to reach the high you had been begging for - and he had denied himself just to make sure you were focused. He didn't even care when he came inside you, too lazy to pull out in time as he pressed wet kisses against your neck.

"Promise you believe me, sweetheart?" He hums, resting against you. "Promise. For now." You chuckled, slightly tired after all that. Francis sighs and pouts, looking at you sternly. "Do I need to start all over again?" He asks, smiling as you shake your head and kiss him. "Just cuddling will do." You mumble against his lips.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

THERE'S A CASTLE ON THE HILL, AS THE STORY GOES...

As promised, some initial thoughts on the things I loved about seeing this show. Spoiler free, since most of us haven't gotten to see it yet, and under the cut since I do wax a bit poetic...

Cinderella’s Castle is, in a strange way, an exercise in irony. The show is a retelling of an ancient story that is beloved and recited throughout so many cultures, and yet somehow feels completely fresh. The modern take on glam-punk lighting, a score infused with styles from 80s synth to anime, a high fantasy set with the costumes to match, the spirit of Jim Henson lingering through both the puppets and some larger and intangible vibe, a script combining that Starkid humor and Hatchetfield darkness with a whole different style of speaking… all of these beautifully executed elements melted together into something that I’ve never before seen. To take a tale as old as time and make it unique is no easy feat, but Starkid did so with magic and charm to spare.

Like any good Starkid show, Cinderella’s Castle is relentlessly dynamic: fun and tragic and exciting and just-plain-silly, with many twists and turns and character moments will make you gasp or cheer just as often as you laugh. It simply rollicks. The story clicks right along, especially in act 2, but the characters are so distinct and fun that I found myself almost wishing the Langs had sacrificed their plotting and pace just to spend more time hanging with every single member of this ensemble of personalities.

And that’s also a tribute to the actors themselves. Jeff is David Bowie reborn as the impish and fabulous narrator. Jon and Joey bring Hop A Lot and Crumb to life with so much charm and presence that they practically had the audience eating out of their hands from the very first second. Like, seriously, you will not believe how invested you will immediately become in these talking animals. Kim’s Fairy Queen is as radiant and terrible as promised; her portrayal of immortal inhuman power compels and commands and stands fully distinct from the Lords in Black. Lauren and Mariah are delightfully disgusting as the vile but deeply lovable troll step-sisters; you can feel the fun they’re having practically radiating off of them. Curt’s Tadius is dryly funny and put-upon, but also provides a vitally grounding and centering presence in the larger-than-life world of the Lands That Are. His big scene with Bryce is probably my favorite part of the whole show. James Tolbert is nothing short of an absolute STAR as the Prince, stealing scene after scene after scene with ease and charm and more jokes about genitalia than I think any of us expected. Angela once again displays a completely different facet of her never-ending range, exuding such elegance and control even in trollish filth that I do fear that the kids on the internet are going to start calling her “mother” with greatly increasing frequency. "Facade" was an absolute highlight of the night. And of course Bryce anchors, propels, and heightens every scene she’s in with such apparent ease you forget she’s been rehearsing for weeks and isn’t simply Ella herself. Ella is this world’s bruised, brave, and angry heart, and you will absolutely root for her every step of the way as she wrestles with who she is and learns what it means to claim her own power.

This was Starkid’s biggest budgeted show to date, and you could tell. This group of Michigan Wolverines and friends have accomplished incredible things since the Very Potter days of a single door and some cardboard columns, and I’m so proud of how far they’ve come. And yet Cinderella’s Castle, the fifteenth musical in the fifteenth year, still retains some of that core Starkid magic that I’ve always believed boils down to love. You can so often see that love emanating from the performers on a Starkid stage: love for the show, for their friends, for their craft, for the audience’s energy pushing them through. And the sense of love and support and community radiating from the audience is just as palpable. The man sitting behind me last night was at his first ever Starkid show, and afterwards he remarked in awe how that was the best audience he’d ever been in. And all that love isn’t unearned—it is built and it is nourished by a proud history of creativity, of song and of dance and of laughter and tears. And Cinderella’s Castle, I think, is going to prove an installment worthy of both Starkid’s past and future.

Starkid family, Bogs Hollow grants thee Starlight.

[claymoresword]

We Bleed The Same | Part: 2

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, angst, pregnant cersei, kid fic elements, y/n & cersei's relationship is so not healthy but we move

Note: So we end here. although i do think there's room to expand this story into a full fic but idk if anyone would want that (let me know if you do and i'll consider it) but eitherway hope you enjoy!

ps. this one kicks off with a bit of smut so i'm sorry in advance or you're welcome lol

Loud, unrestrained moans fall from the queen's lips as you cup her breasts. She throws her head back once more, grinding hard against your lap, your length filling her to the hilt.

Cersei's hair flows past her shoulders in tumbles of gold, her chest heaving with every trembling gasp and breath.

Gods, she is beautiful.

Cersei takes her pleasure from you without reserve this morning, as she often does.

Since arriving in King's Landing this seems to be all she has done, anytime the both of you are allowed a moment together undisturbed.

A simple conversation somehow always escalates, and you find yourself in the queen's bed– your hot, writhing bodies entwined.

Cersei halts her movements suddenly, bracing her hands against your breasts as she finally comes undone around your shaft. The sensation of her clenching around your cock makes you groan, your eyes flutter shut for a prolonged moment and you nearly fail to realize Cersei climbing off your lap.

You shake your head at her as she collapses next to you, breathless and full of incredulity, although thoroughly satisfied. You'd let Cersei ride you all day and night if that is what she truly desired.

“I swear, it will fall off one of these days.” You quip in between heavy breaths, glancing at your own member.

You earn a chuckle from Cersei, one low and sultry, her chest is still heaving wildly as she turns on her side to look at you.

“Oh, no we can't have that..” She says in return, her tone aimed to mock, she feigns disinterest as she traced your abdomen with her fingers.

You merely scoff in response, deciding to reach over the queen to grab the goblet sitting on her side table.

You lift the rim up to your lips, taking a sip before eventually throwing your head with the intention of emptying the cup.

Although before you can, you feel Cersei strike you on the chest with the back of her hand, causing you to nearly choke.

“Don't you dare drink it all.” She warns, and you swallow what little wine made it into your mouth before surrendering the goblet.

Your expression twists in annoyance, yet the queen appears entirely unfazed by it.

“You do not need to hit me every time you want something.. Asking politely is what most civilized people do.” You take the jab at her but still, the older woman hardly reacts.

Cersei instead shrugs innocently as she puts the now empty goblet aside, a faint smile tugging on the corners of her lips. “I am the queen. I don't have to ask for anything.”

Your retort dies in your throat as Cersei suddenly inched closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your around her instinctively, holding her close.

This woman drove you insane.

The queen is entirely uninhibited and treacherous, like wildfire; Cersei does as she pleases. Nothing in the mortal world could dream of containing her.

She is maddening, she is cruel, and so damned intoxicating.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

-

Soon a comfortable silence settles between the both of you, it goes on for long enough that you feel yourself nodding off, but the sound of Cersei's voice prevents you from falling asleep.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.” She declares quietly, her lips brush against your jaw before she breaks away to look at you properly.

“What is it?” You ask with genuine concern as you meet her gaze. You attempt to search her expression for any cause to worry, but Cersei betrays nothing of the sort.

“I am with child.” She says suddenly, and as her voice reaches your ears you can hardly believe what you are hearing; you pause.

“I am carrying your babe in my belly.” Cersei rephrases, as though you hadn't understood her the first time.

Still, you don't speak, merely letting out a chuckle in disbelief as you glanced at her belly, before placing your palm flat against it.

This only works to frustrate the queen even more. “Say something, you imbecile.” She hisses.

“Are you.. happy about this?” You find yourself inquiring, and Cersei only scowls at you as though it was the dumbest question she had ever been asked.

“Yes, of course I am.” She insists, grabbing your face with both of her hands, forcing you to look at her.

“You are going to be a mother, alongside me, at long last.” As Cersei speaks the words, they finally begin to sink in.

Yet, all you feel is an impending dread.

You are not prepared to be a parent. In truth, you haven't even given the idea much thought at all.

“The Gods have blessed us.” You say instead, and Cersei nods, her pleasant smile proves that she is content with your response.

You let her pull you into her embrace once more, and you hug her tightly in return– keeping your thoughts to yourself.

“A child born from you and I.. they are fated to do great things.” Cersei utters assuredly under her breath, only for you to hear.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You had spent all that afternoon in the Red Keep's training yard, sparring with anyone who would agree to it.

Knight or squire, it mattered not, you simply needed a distraction from the unpleasantness that was constantly gnawing in your chest.

You are not ready to be a parent, you aren't certain you would be even decent, let alone good at it. but still, Cersei's happiness is what matters most of all.

You have to see this through no matter what.

“Begging your pardon, My Lady–” A voice rips you from your thoughts, you turn around to see a young squire standing behind you.

You watch him quizzically, and the boy stumbles over his words as though only just realizing that he has to explain himself. “The– the Lord Hand has sent for you. He has asked for an audience in the king's solar.”

You scoff bitterly at that. Ned's new duties as hand of the king had resulted in him evading you at every turn.

Always too busy to spend time with you and his own children– but now he summons his sister through a squire and expects you to obey his command without protest.

He is unbelievable.

“Tell my brother that I'm busy here, I'll see him when I can” You insist sharply, scowling just at the thought of entertaining Ned's command right now.

You observed as the squire's face grew pale at your refusal, he advances forward nervously.

“Forgive me, My Lady, he did mention it was urgent.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You wince as you massage the knot in your shoulder whilst climbing up the steps towards the king's apartments.

Frankly not giving much thought to what your brother needed from you, or having much care for what he has to say at all.

A hand still on your sword arm, you push the heavy wooden door to Robert's solar open with your back.

The sight that you are met with when you enter makes your face fall.

Robert sits at his desk, Cersei stands next to him whilst Ned remains on the other side of the king.

Your expression twists further in confusion when you spot Catelyn stood by the window, a small child in her arms.

This does not make any sense– she is supposed to be in Winterfell.

“Has something happened?” You ask, entirely afraid of the answer. You turn to push the door closed, in an attempt to delay whatever this is, for as long as possible.

“Y/n–” Your sister by law is first to address you. Catelyn decides to set the child she is holding down before continuing, but before she can get a word out, the little girl sprints towards you, clinging to your leg.

The feeling of her tiny arms wrapped around you makes you stiffen involuntarily. You have never seen this child before, and yet there is something so familiar about her, some sort of inkling that you can't quite place.

“Who is this?” You ask, running your fingers through the girl's hair as she looked up at you giddily.

“A woman came to me, back in Winterfell–” Catelyn begins to explain, advancing towards you, but again, she is not allowed to speak for long.

“That is your bastard daughter, apparently.” Cersei answers your question bluntly, her tone laced with venom.

The look she sends your way causes your blood to run cold, you swallow, shifting uncomfortably. Your instinctive attempt to get the child to release you is to no avail.

The Gods make their japes, at the face of distress, they see fit to mock you.

You let out an uncomfortable laugh, one that causes Cersei to roll her eyes.

“I don't understand.” You utter, in hopes that dismissing it will somehow make it all ring untrue.

“Cat told me the woman that approached her used to work at the brothel.. when she became heavy with your child she had to find work elsewhere– she does not have the means to raise this little girl.” Ned explains, and the situation only begins to sound even more bizarre to you.

“That's.. not possible, I haven't been to any brothel in–” You start but the king swiftly cuts you off.

“Three years?” Robert chimes in, followed by a belly laugh that only makes you want to punch the man.

“Guess how old that girl is.” He inquires, and you grow quiet.

Cersei appears dissatisfied with your silence, she steps towards you in a last ditch attempt to help you and everyone else in the room see reason.

“How could you possibly believe that she is your daughter?” The queen questions openly, glancing at everyone else in the room before settling her gaze upon you.

“The whore is clearly just looking for you to feast her bastard in the king's hall.” Cersei accuses. Her words are harsh but you catch something else within her gaze, a look of desperation and true sorrow– it shatters you.

Ned shakes his head at Cersei's claim, it appears he has made up his mind on your behalf. “My sister's bastard or not, in the north we look out for our own. Whether this child is truly yours is unclear, but we cannot throw her out in the streets.”

You take in your brother's words, although you still fail to speak, it feels as though your voice does not matter in this instance, when things have already been decided.

Robert grumbles as he rises from his seat, evidently through with this discussion.

“Raise her here or don't, y/n. It matters not to me. She is your responsibility now.” The king says as he pushes past you to exit the room.

You watched as Cersei's expression hardened the longer she looked at you before finally averting her gaze in disgust.

“Your Grace,” You try but Cersei merely pushes past you harshly taking her leave as well.

Now you are at a loss. The child still sits by your feet, free of any predicament, entertaining herself by fiddling with the metal tip of your scabbard.

You look between your brother and his wife, and they only stare at you expectantly. You feel there is nothing left to do as you let out a sigh in defeat.

You crouch down to meet your daughter.

As you reach out to lightly pinch the girl's nose, she lets out an adorable giggle that makes you smile, before you look up at Catelyn once more.

“What is her name?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

A few days have passed since a child had been thrust into your care unexpectedly and Cersei still refuses to speak to you.

Every one of your attempts at begging for her audience has been met with swift refusal.

It seemed the more you tried, the more it worked to provoke her.

The queen has since dismissed you as protector, and appointed another in your stead.

To add insult to injury, she has decided her brother, out of all knights, should take your place.

Cersei knows how to wound you and she does it well. How foolish of you to forget that.

-

This afternoon you approach the queen consort's bedchambers once again, only to see Jaime standing in front of her door.

You curse under your breath. You had hoped to force your way inside one way or another, but now that task is going to prove far more difficult.

“Let me see her.” Your request sounds more like a demand as you settle in front of the knight.

Jaime regards you with nothing more than a blank stare, looking you up and down before responding. “The queen is not to be disturbed, she is abed.”

You grimace at that before gesturing to your surroundings. “It is not yet nightfall.” You state a plain fact, and Jaime merely shrugs.

“The queen is not to be disturbed.” This time the knight does not bother to look at you as he speaks.

This alone fills you with a blind rage, you grip the hilt of your sword tightly, fighting every urge that tells you to unsheathe it.

Instead of challenging Cersei's twin to a swordfight, you lunge forward with the desire to strike him, but at the last moment, your fist makes contact with the wall next to his head instead.

Satisfied enough with the way Jaime flinches, you turn on your heels, storming off before the knight and do anything to retaliate.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

For most of the late evening you had resolved to spend more time with your daughter.

So far, the little girl has surprised you in more ways than one. You had quickly learnt that she is shy around the other children, albeit not unkind to them. She loves to giggle, and is mostly well behaved– for a three year old.

The first few days with her had you constantly doubting if she was even your daughter at all, but you soon came to accept that your denial is hardly fair to her, none of this is.

You will give her a chance regardless; a place to call home. She deserves a mother, especially if the one that birthed her cannot care for her anymore.

-

As the hour grows late, you carry your daughter to bed, tucking her under the covers before placing a kiss on her forehead.

The girl grabs ahold of your collar then as she often did to make you stay with her for a little while longer, but sleep swiftly takes over, causing her arm to fall to her side.

You chuckle at the sight, stroking her hair one last time before retreating. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

As you make the move to turn away, the sudden feeling of arms wrapping around your torso makes you flinch.

Soon recognizing the familiar scent of lavender oil, you let out a breath of relief.

You turn in Cersei's arms to look at her, an easy smile appears on your lips as you meet her striking emerald gaze.

Such joy it is to finally feel her close to you again.

Cersei.. your love, your heart.

“I didn't think you would speak to me ever again.” You remark, caressing her cheek with your finger.

Cersei doesn't respond immediately, merely raking her fingers through your hair before harshly gripping a fistful of it, causing you to wince this time for a different reason.

“Do you love me?” She inquires, yet her expression remains unreadable to you.

She aims to make you uncomfortable, and it is working.

“You know that I do. More than anything else in this world.” You respond in earnest, a pleading look accompanies your words.

She nods at that, satisfied enough that she releases her grip on your hair.

Now she reaches down to guide your hand, holding it in place against her growing belly.

“Do you swear to never choose that girl over our child?” The queen demands, swiftly looking at the bed where your daughter sleeps peacefully and then back to you once more.

What Cersei asks of you is bold, it is perhaps unreasonable, even. Yet you don't hesitate with a response.

“I swear it.”

Cersei allows herself to smile then, she finally pulls you in for a searing kiss, one you return eagerly.

She breaks away and her mouth finds your jaw, and soon the shell of your ear before embracing you once more.

“If you ever betray me, I will have you gelded and your cock fed to the dogs.” The queen whispers her threat with a sweet smile, but you know that she meant every word.

“I will not betray you.”

[karlachismylife]

Saw this and immediately thought of you! I hope your hiatus goes well!

Thank you so much, love! This cuteness was helping me keep it together during my hiatus and as you can see I survived, all thanks to you! Honestly the "thought of you" part just makes me tear up. Being the Hyena CEO of COD fandom is one of my biggest accomplishments (and also the most pleasant one cuz I get cute hyenas in my askbox).

So now that I'm out of my hiatus, let me tell you that these two? SoapGaz all the way.

CW: basically a short spinoff of the Queen of the Clan, can be seen as both canon and non-canon to the main story, so fem!chubby!reader and this is already established poly 141 x reader (ooh spoilers), a little bit of animal (well, shapeshifter) genitalia touching (non-sexual no matter how hard Soap- okay I'm out)

It's already at dusk that you're suddenly tasked with a simple thing everyone just kinda forgot about: there are new camera traps that need to be installed in the further part of the sanctuary, in the middle of the hyena territory, and since your reputation of a hyena whisperer has been firmly established, no one even thinks of other candidates for the late job.

You'd be quite grumpy about it if you didn't know you'll have the sweetest company to keep you safe and entertained.

Once you load the equipment into your backpack and receive written instructions - at least they didn't make you remember all the complicated measurements you'll have to make before setting up the traps - you roll your scooter out onto the dirt road and set off into the quickly darkening night. Fresh wind smells a little bit like sun-warmed dust and grass as it hits your face on the moderate speed, crickets and night birds weaving their song of nature cooling off after sunset, sounds loud enough to fill your head through the revving of weak engine and air swishing in your ears.

Not wearing a helmet is one of the least reckless things you've been up to just last month, and you can't lie, you feel a little bit power-drunk and allmighty after what you've gone through. Certain fellas do nothing to put you back on earth, shamelessly encouraging your power trip.

After all, the more confident the queen, the stronger the clan.

It's as if the wind picked up your thoughts, filled with the same four someones as always, and carried it over into the breathing with full chest savannah - because you're not even halfway to your end point and there's already loud whooping, two familiar voices, cutting through the air closer and closer to the road. Luckily for all of you, they make sure to get even louder and run a few dozens meters through the tall grass framing the curb, before two large silouettes jump out on the road to escort you in leisurely pace.

There's something so satisfying in the realization that you actually managed to indentify them just by their voices - Gaz's melodic, always slightly purring whooping somehow still distinct even when there are Soap's excited, hasty whoops, almost tripping over themselves and getting grabled with the inexplainable accent he carries into his hyena form too. Their big forms traverse the road effortlessly, even Soap's bulky body taking on that predatory elegance to match Gaz in his dark, determined trotting - they make some loops around you and your scooter, tails raised in excitement, and and shut up only after you turn the engine off at your stop, propping the machine on its stand.

Soap nearly jumps you, balancing poorly on one hind leg and trying to paw at you with both front ones, screeching and whining with his widest smile and tongue lolling out. You chuckle and boop his wide nose, ready to bend down for some kisses, but Gaz, ever the polite one, nudges your hip with his dark muzzle and raises his leg too.

Right. They really wanted you to get in onto the whole greeting ritual - sitting you down for a gentle talk and reassuring it that it's not weird, if it's them. They're not animals, they're just... animal-shaped. Your arguement about palming crotches as a greeting being weird with humans to was kinda just thrown away. After all, they're your clan, they're yours, why would anything be weird between you?

So you oblige, crouching with a sigh and running some quick bellyrubs down their patiently waiting bodies, until you reach two proudly erect hyena members. It's just a ritual, it'll help them with watever scent-hierarchy-service thing they've got going on, you have to remind yourself, as you briefly skim over their genitals and pull your hands away, wiping them off on the boys' fur and slapping Soap's fluffy butt for trying to grind into your palm.

"You try that again and I'm never touching you again, Stinky, you hear me?" You even make a point out of returning the old nickname, and watch with satisfaction as Soap's fluffy ears lower miserably and he dips down to the ground, the embodiment of guilt.

Not for long, though - after he gets a kiss on the nose from you, Gaz jumps Soap and bites his scruff, starting a scuffle. Their commanding officers seem to be busy, so Sergeants have a lot of energy to spare - you know that better than anyone.

Yesterday bitemarks on your thighs still sting as you unload your backpack and pull all the equipment out. Leaning your butt against the scooter, you put on the little headlamp and start reading through your instructions, laughing and fighting off both Soap and Gaz that stopped playfighting just to rummage and sniff through your things.

"Shush! Mum's reading, it's important," you throw at them, earning two sets of outraged huffs - no need to understand hyena language to hear the "you're not our mum" hidden between grumpy sneezes. It works, though, both hyenas plop their asses next to you, Gaz leaning against your hip to get some chin scratches and Soap playing with the strap of your backpack, throwing it around, tugging and chewing on the buckle in the middle. "Okay, it shouldn't be long. Hey, can you help me?"

They both jump up immediately, Soap puffing his chest out and fluffing up his mane just to show how helpful he is, Gaz just standing patiently, only reaching his neck to try and sneak a peek into the paper you're holding.

"I'll be doing some measurements, and you guys please dig a little holes where I say, okay? Not deep, just... well, to fit that thing, see?" You nod at one of the camera traps and after they both inspect it with thorough sniffs and shy nibbles and grumble in understanding, you get that laser tape measure - much easier to use alone and in the night.

Finding one of the spots you need to measure from, you crouch, set the laser and look down at the number on the screen. Too close. With a grunt, you scoot a little further and press the button again. Aha, there!

"Okay, so can you now make a hole right where the laser dot is? Guys?" Confused by the lack of movement from your usually very eager to help and serve hyenas, you look up.

Only to see them both staring at the little dot of your tape measure with tails on high alert and legs in a wide stance, prime for pouncing.

For fuck's sake, you forgot they're basically overgrown spotted cats.

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

[viviennevermillion]

When you faint because of the heat

notes: new theme. i am speed. set during tamashina-mina and yasamina silk events. there's also no translation out yet at the point of writing this so I apologize if I accidentally fuck something up, i'm piecing this event story together from twitter threads and japanese-speaking mutuals exposing themselves to my annoying questions. varying lengths again because what is consistency?

contains: character x gn!reader, established relationship

characters included: leona, jamil, malleus, lilia

warnings: spoilers for new event, heatstroke

dark content creators & consumers dni

Leona may have acted like he wasn't very keen on going home and bringing anyone from Night Raven College along, but he did care a lot about his homeland and he was feeling a little proud that he got to show it to you. He just wished he wasn't the loathed second prince while doing that. The others? It didn't matter to him if they enjoyed their trip. But you were his significant other and he wanted you to have a good time. So if he already had to go back to the Sunset Savannah? He might as well bring you along. He didn't want to admit it but you brightened up every moment at least enough for it to be tolerable for him. And even though he felt like the trip was going to be quite the hassle, he was looking forward to it at least a little bit in the aspect that he'd get to spend some time with you in his homeland. Maybe he'd even show you the palace. The others could wait outside.

You wandered the plaza with Leona and the others, sneaking your hand into his at one point. "Careful, y/n~", Leona teased and looked at you with his signature smirk, "the people of Sunset Savannah still don't know I have a significant other, we don't want anyone from the royal guard to tackle you for your affection now, do we? They might throw you in jail and then you'll never get to see me again." You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend. "If you weren't the prince, I'd dunk you in the fountain." "So violent, huh?", he said with an uncharacteristically dramatic sigh, "drowning in the fountain built to commemorate my beloved nephew would be a fitting end for me, huh?" You poked his side. "I'd be foolish to believe I could get rid of you by drowning you in a fountain", you joked and now Leona took your hand in his for a moment and squeezed it gently, still smirking at you.

"Could you people stop flirting for two seconds?", Vil looked at you both with a disappointed expression. "This is their version of flirting?", Lilia put a finger to his chin in confusion. "It is and I hate it", Vil replied dryly.

All of you noticed that it had become even hotter in the plaza and none of you were really dressed for the occasion. When Jack fainted, Leona was shocked and needed a moment to process what was happening. "Y/n, could you hand me the water you packed? Y/n...?", Leona turned around to see you unconscious in Vil's arms after he had caught you. "Oh for fucks sake", Leona held his head.

He made his way towards you. "Move, prickly queen", he hissed at Vil and picked you up from the ground bridal style. Vil stared at him like "tf did you just call me?"

"This really isn't the time to get jealous, you know?", Vil sighed and Leona carried you to the shade as the others helped bring Jack there. They could see Leona seemed a little distressed over you fainting though. He put you down on a bench and sat next to you, waiting for you to regain consciousness before he helped you drink some water.

"Ah shit, how are we supposed to win if y'all die on me like a starving gazelle with three broken legs?", Leona growled and rubbed the back of his head. Despite his annoyed expression, anyone who knew him well enough could tell he was worried about the two of you.

"Do you think you two can walk with us or should I call the corpse wagon?", Leona asked about your condition, ignoring Vil's sarcastic commentary of how charming he was yet again.

At the hotel he has you sitting sideways on his lap and resting against his chest. His tail is wrapped around your waist and he holds your cheek with one hand before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He looks up at Vil and Lilia smirking at him in a teasing way and Kalim letting out an "aw" sound.

"Fuck you starin' at?", Leona commented dryly. "I'm sorry", Kalim apologized and looked to the ground.

Jamil was glad you were coming along because not only would he get to show his homeland to you but you would always cheer him up and help him relax when he was feeling too stressed with his responsibilities. When he joined you in the evening after a long day of running after Kalim, you'd sometimes massage his shoulders or kiss the tension away. He'd need that today, he mused. He'd make sure to show you all of his favorite things about the Scalding Sands in return.

What he wasn't expecting was for you to faint from the heat. If anyone was an expert in keeping people safe and comfortable, it was Jamil. He had warned you about the harsh desert heat. Repeatedly. Yet it had still happened.

So now that you had fainted despite him making sure you're hydrated and otherwise protected from the sun, the only thing that was left for him to do was to make sure you'd get back on your feet as soon as possible.

It wouldn't be Jamil if he didn't bring a first-aid kit so he uses anything in there that could possibly help you.

He ignores Kalims worried commentary of the situation and makes sure you're provided with the best possible support.

Kalim orders food for you specifically so you get your energy back.

Jamil has an arm wrapped around you and makes sure you drink enough water. When the food arrives, you enjoy the exquisite meal. "Out of all things, you had to order a gourmet lunch that's more expensive than a street food vendor's entire shop?", Jamil stares at Kalim with his typical half-lidded expression, "you know a wet burger would have been much cheaper and been here earlier right?" You immediately stop eating, still having a bite in your mouth while staring at your boyfriend in shock upon the realization of what Kalim had ordered for you. "Just eat it now, Kalim is just like that", Jamil sighs, gesturing for you not to worry about the cost.

Jamil presses a kiss to your forehead and holds your hand as you continue your trip, urging you to take things slow for now. He stays by your side and keeps you safe. Once you're wearing the outfit Kalim's family had specifically prepared for his friends, Jamil at least doesn't worry anymore about you not being dressed appropriately for the desert climate. "You look beautiful", he squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your lips, relieved you're safe and seem to be doing well.

Malleus is so hyped when he not only gets to go on a trip to the Scalding Sands without his retainers but gets to be with you on top of it all. It's like Halloween and Birthdays and International Gargoyle Day (something he may or may not have made up) in one.

If he's waiting for three hours in front of the dark mirror before the trip out of sheer excitement you can bet you're waiting with him. "They're not going to forget about us, we don't have to get up at 4am for this, Mal-", you protested as he dragged you out of bed to get ready for the trip.

He wants to share every moment with you. The trip has barely begun and he already feels like these are going to be memories he'd treasure forever.

When you faint because of the heat, he's super worried. He catches you and holds you in his arms with a panicked expression. So terrified he's losing you for a moment. "Viper, y/n is dying", he calls out with noticeable fear in his shaking voice. The people around you are raising an eyebrow and staring at your group. "They're not dying", Jamil corrects Malleus hastily and tries to signal to the concerned spectators that you were going to be fine, "they've just fainted from the heat. Let's get them somewhere in the shade and provide them with water."

Malleus nods and water droplets start forming from thin air everywhere around you. "Not with magic", Jamil gestures wildly and is happy to see the car Kalim called arrive, "we brought bottled water. No. more. magic." Jamil is so stressed out already, he's glad when you wake up again because that makes him avoid more fun surprises from their royal guest out of worry.

The thing is that Malleus getting into a relationship with anyone is not something to be taken lightly and could have a huge impact on the political landscape of Briar Valley so until you're sure you actually want to rule over his kingdom with Malleus, your relationship unfortunately has to stay a secret. Which means none of your classmates except for Lilia, Silver and Sebek are actually aware you two are an item.

"You're all seeing this right? This is not a mirage?", Cater whispers audibly with a shocked expression while in the limousine. The reason for his bafflement is Malleus gently holding you in his arms while you were resting and recovering from your heatstroke. Malleus holds Twisted Wonderland's equivalent of a Capri Sun, letting you drink from the straw while he had an arm wrapped around you. There was still worry in his voice and he would have loved to be alone with you right now to give you some affection in order to cheer you up.

He stays super close to you throughout the rest of your trip to make sure you'll be okay because you really did a number on his poor inexperienced heart.

He's simultaneously so relieved you're okay that he's even more affectionate than usual. He shares one of those melons with you and says it's so your love lasts forever. ❤️

Lilia was so excited to take you on this trip. The last time he visited the capital of Sunset Savannah, it hadn't been urbanized yet so he was looking forward to exploring the modern metropolis with you and being able to provide you with some stories and trivia about the past during the trip.

Lilia himself is pretty sensitive to the sun and he definitely warned you about the heat.

Nevertheless, you faint early on in the trip due to a heatstroke. Did I not pay enough attention to them?, Lilia asks himself as he carries you to the shade.

He thinks it's unlikely anything too bad is going to happen to you but he's still worried. He holds you in his arms the whole time until you wake up. He gently rubs your wrist with his thumb and kisses your forehead gently. You come to your senses not long after, your eyes flickering open and looking into the face of your lover who is giving you a soft smile. True love's kiss, Lilia mused and chuckles.

"We were quite worried about you, dear", he pats your head, hugs you and Kalim hands him the water bottle. Lilia helps you drink if your hand is shaking and you struggle to hold the bottle on your own.

He raised Silver and one overgrown dragon fae, he knows how to take care of someone, so you're in good hands unless he brings up his cooking. Then it's time to hit the bricks.

Lilia has an arm wrapped around you all the way back to the hotel, so you have some support if you're still low on energy or feeling a little dizzy.

He makes sure you get something to eat and drink enough water once you're back at the hotel.

He holds you for a while and kisses your lips gently. "Don't scare me like this again, okay?", he chuckles as you nuzzle his neck and hug him back.

He'd let the medics do a check-up and he'd be really happy if you're in the condition to continue exploring the capital with him and the others but if not he vows to take note of everything that might interest you and show it to you before you go back to Night Raven College.

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Is shattering permanent in the comic (especially with the force fusions and cluster) or can it be fixed down the line like future did? Asking for your opinion on this too bc I found out about it in Future and it makes me feel weird (bc now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension, so haven’t been able to read or write stories). Maybe I’m seeing this wrong? Would love your thoughts

Hmm...

So to answer your first question: The comic for WDAU works on the same rules as canon does. I have no intention to over-write anything canon clearly stated to be true.

The ability to put back together shattered gems is definitely a part of that.

So yes, theoretically, even in WDAU, gems being shattered is not 'the end' because they can be eventually re-instated through the work of the diamonds, IF they someday decide to Change Their Minds like they did in the original series.

That being said...

I want to talk a little bit about something you said, because it tickles my brain in an interesting way:

"now it feels like any SU stuff and shattering has no consequence or tension"

And the best way to talk about stuff, I've found, is to ask questions about our underlying assumptions. So my questions for you (all) today are:

For us humans, death certainly IS a constant that remains ever-permanent, and thus it's easy to compare it to shattering and draw that parallel... but is that a fair comparison?

In fiction, death is often circumvented and there still remains reasonable tension in things like magic-heavy worlds, vampire novels, sci-fi where almost any sickness is eradicated, etc. Is this not quite similar to what shattering is for gems?

Is the perceived permanency of shattering the only reason it feels like a heavy consequence?

Are there OTHER consequences of being shattered that make it just as interesting, if not more than, to be explored as a plot device?

Must there be an ever-looming threat of something horrible and permanent happening to make a story good?

There isn't a right or wrong answer to these questions, necessarily. I'm not posing these in order to lead you to a singular, 'absolutely correct' conclusion or way of writing.

For some stories, death DOES need to be permanent in order not to make light of what the characters go through! In some forms of writing, there IS no other way around that consequence.

But I daresay SU is not one of those stories.

Let me put it this way - 100 years ago, medicine had only BEGUN to develop into the thing we know it as today. Sure, there were therapies and treatments for diseases, broken limbs, poisonings, etc. Some of them were quite good, even! But overall, the death tolls back then from basic illness were MUCH higher than they were today.

Pnumonia, Malaria, Syphillis, Smallpox, Bubonic Plague, AIDS.

These were things that people died from, with near CERTAINTY, for the LONGEST time. They were considered the road to a permanent black screen.

And today? Even though they are still, without proper intervention, JUST as deadly, we now have new tools and vaccines to combat them. Hell, if you get vaccinated fast enough you can get bit by a rabid dog and live to tell the tale, unscathed! Rabies used to be a one-stop-shop to the afterlife.

Despite this, we still view these diseases with appropriate fear. They are still dangerous - in the right conditions.

In the right conditions, the consequences for a LOT of things can be permanent. If permanency is what you're looking for.

So alright, the Diamonds can heal shattered gems now. Booooring. How easy it is to fix any shattered gem! What a simple solution to anything tragic.

But................... will they ALWAYS do so?

In fact...will the Diamonds ALWAYS be around?

Will the gems who got shattered always be picked up, piece by piece, and be brought back to them, perfectly preserved? Or will they lose pieces of themselves along the way - literally?

And what NEW consequences can we think of, when we stop thinking of the permanency of death, and start thinking of the Impermanence of those tools that keep us here longer and longer?

Just food for thought. 👀