#The comic is just focusing on the same problem | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miajooz · 23 days ago

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Lust Quest? ₊˚⊹♡

overview ꨄ Ellie—your girlfriend, was sitting at her desk practically the whole day playing her favorite game. You didn’t mind usually, but the lack of attention was definitely annoying you. After awhile of nagging, she got fed up with you.

warnings ꨄ Ellie is lowkey kinda mean..choking, strap-usage (r!receiving), fingering (!receiving), choking, hair pulling, degrading, dumbfication, deprivation of pleasure, edging, ect! NOT exactly a drabble, IM SORRY GUYS! I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

wc: 5.6k

You’re not exactly sure how you got in this situation. Better yet, where you managed to lose where this situation made sense. Your girlfriend, Ellie, was playing on her PlayStation—like always, it seemed. Ever since you got her that desk sized T.V, she hadn’t been able to peeled herself away from the same thing.

She was playing some sort of zombie game that you actually had no care for, but there was something about the way her fingers moved the joysticks so calculatedly that was so enamoring. Or the way her brow would be furrowed in either annoyance or concentration, the way she’d bite the inside of her bottom lip and breathe heavier—it was so hot.

Everything about Ellie was hot, everything she did put you in a trance you found yourself stuck in at every waking minute. Even your unawake moments—she lived there, taking over your mind as if she had the right to.

The only downside was how focused she got on the game. You’d be trying to have an actual conversation with her, and she’d be shooting a zombie in some hotel basement, complaining and groaning. It was irritating to say the least, you only really managed when she’d let you sit on her lap—as long as you promised to stay still, that is. But even in that position, you found yourself feeling envious of a gaming controller. The way both hands were gripping it tightly, the way she’d tighten her grip when she got angry. You missed when your thighs would be her stress relief toy.

What a low blow, where had your self worth gone?

Even though she’d squeeze your thigh as if it was the only thing keeping her sane, or burry her face in your neck and groan frustratedly—it wasn’t enough. You still couldn’t stay still, you still couldn’t help but squirm and sigh in annoyance when her eyes would be trained on the screen in front of her instead of her literal girlfriend.

You complained, you whined, you didn’t stay still, you didn’t stay quiet—but she seemed so unfazed. That only made you try harder, stubbornness was a two-way problem in this relationship.

Your complaining didn’t go unnoticed, though, she’d usually brush it off and laugh—but not this time.

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Ellie had pushed her gracefully gifted T.V closer to the wall before slamming you down on the desk. The impact forced a sharp yelp from your throat, along with multiple figures, comics, and whatever other shit she had on her desk to fall off. The cluttering sound of things falling didn’t faze her, she just looked at you with narrowed eyes and an agitated expression.

“Baby, do you know what staying still means?” she asked, her voice was so condescending. It was as if she was talking to you like you were stupid—maybe because she knew you would be in a few minutes. You were always left hazy when she was done with you, even you were painfully aware of that fact.

“I’d stay still if you actually paid attention to me. Do I have to get on my knees and plead for basic attention?” you spat, equally as angry. It was unknown if it was the anger or the heavy sexual tension that made the room feel so tense—most likely the latter.

“Oh, please. You get plenty of attention, you just don’t like when my focus is on something other than you.” she argued, the way she was running her hand up your thigh was a stark contrast to her bitter tone.

You knew it was true, she showered you in attention and affection. Even in her more distant moments, you could see how hard she tried. Yet, it was still so frustrating when she focused so hard on something other than you, something that wasn’t even real, pixels on the T.V you bought her.

“You’re so infuriating, Ellie. You speak as if I’m some kind of attention whore.” it was as if your whole comment got ignored—at least for a moment. Ellie placed her calloused, rough hands under your thighs and yanked you towards her. A strained gasp left your throat from the force, it was nerve wracking; but arousing in away.

“Not far from it, sweetheart.” she murmured, ensuring your legs were wrapped around her waist securely before starting to kiss up your neck. Making sure she was in her rightful place between your thighs. “Look how you act when you’re not the center of attention.” You scoffed and tried to shoot her a dirty look, but she was clearly occupied. She kissed along your jawline in a way that made you feel wanted for the first time that day. The pecks you received seemed almost forced, but not reluctant. It was as if she was forcing herself to be gentle with you.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around her, tracing them up and down her back softly. There was no desire for roughness on your end, it was really only attention you wanted. You wanted more of her hands, more of her kisses, more of everything.

Ellie continued, the wet kisses she left were making your spine tingle. So passionate, but so angry. She bit down on your neck particularly hard, earning her a small hiss—you could feel the way her lips curled upwards against your neck. She sucked the sore part of your neck softly, almost teasingly. It was teasing in the way that it was as if it was a wordless apology for her roughness; but you knew better than that.

Ellie pulled away for a brief moment, making eye contact with you again. She kneaded the plush of your thighs in her hand like they were pillows, in a way that felt like they belonged to her. They did in a way, they looked so pretty in her hands, or wrapped around her waist, or around her head when she ate you out.

One of Ellie’s hands slid up to your inner thigh, her eyes still trained on you—watching you, piercing your irises with hers. It was as if she was taking apart your soul and searching for any remorse, or maybe she was just searching for any other reaction besides annoyance. She was finding it for sure, you were an open book. A small smirk crept up onto her lips when she looked at you, all you could do was gulp and furrow your eyebrow in response.

“Is this all you need to stay still, baby? You need me to wear you out?” she questioned, her expression was twisted into one of almost mock pity. The tone in her voice was so condescending, so mean. “That’s fine, just stay still and be good, yeah?”

Regardless—you ate it up. You were practically drooling when she spoke to you that way, and she knew it.

Ellie’s hands slid a bit further, moving to the left a bit to press against your clothed cunt—with far more pressure than necessary. You writhed under her hand, desperately searching for friction but also just feeling so twitchy from the sudden contact.

“Ellie, come on..” you urged, trying to rut your hips against her hand, in an act to chase friction and pleasure but also to convince her to actually please you. Ellie seemed unsatisfied by this act, she immediately pulled her hand away and placed it roughly on your hip, keeping you in place. When you still tried to wiggle, she brought her other hand up to your throat.

Your breath hitched—fuck, she was so hot it was painful. The way she eyed you made you want to melt in her hands.

“Do you not know what ‘stay still’ means? I don’t think you’re dumb, are you?” she asked, though it was more of a mocking thing than a question.

“I’ll give you what you want, but since you were such a fucking brat you have to wait.” her tone was so harsh, her hand pressing on your throat as a warning. she wasn’t actually trying to choke you, she just needed that shock factor.

Despite the roughness, you were practically frothing at the mouth, your cunt clenching with every squeeze, every word. The way she scolded you and looked at you in that angry way—it was so alluring. The way her toned bicep would flex when she squeezed your throat, or the way one eyebrow would furrow more than the other.

“Mmh, m’sorry.” you managed to mumble out, looking at her with pleading eyes. it seemed to work, because she did stop squeezing your throat a bit. Her hand lingered there, the one that was holding your hip went to the waistband of your shorts instead.

“You’re not sorry at all, sweetheart.” she tutted, slipping her thumb under the waistband in a slow, torturous manner. “But you’re gonna try and apologize so I’ll be soft with you, right?” it was a rhetorical question, she didn’t want you to answer it. Now both hands were on the lower half of your body, sliding under you to grip your ass. Her hands lingered there, squishing and kneading the flesh roughly.

With a swift motion, Ellie lifted you up a bit and worked both your shorts and panties off, dropping you back onto the desk when she was done. A small yelp left your lips, especially when even more things fell off the desk—this was getting old.

Ellie grabbed your thighs roughly, forcing them open. She eyed you like a piece of meat, but also like a work of art.

Her hands slipped in between your thighs, her fingertips brushing against your wet folds. Her lips curled into a slow, lopsided smirk—the eye contact was making this so much worse. You were so wet you thought you would leak all over her damn desk, your cunt ached with such need that only she could satisfy.

“Fucking soaked, and I thought you wanted me to be soft.” she scoffed, her ring and middle finger moving to your aching clit and tracing soft circles. “Do you like it when I’m mean to you?” she asked, looking at you with a devilish, expectant look in her eye as she worked your clit lazily.

You let out a soft whine in protest, wanting to rut against her fingers but realizing how bad of an idea that was. Her question was left unanswered, you were too busy panting and silently begging for her to give you more.

Ellie was unsatisfied, she pulled away just enough to land a slap on your clit. You cried out, your legs kicking softly in surprise—but not in an attempt to kick her away. She watched as your hole clenched around nothing, her fingers pressing against the wetness softly. “Or don’t answer, that’s fine. But I already know the answer by how wet you are for me.”

Without warning, she shoved her fingers inside your aching cunt. It wasn’t in a rough way, more of an impatient way. but you weren’t ready, especially since she didn’t even start you out with one.

“Ellie!” you cried out, the roughness to her movements was such a turn on. Her fingers moved in slow, scissoring motions, despite the rough start. You could feel her stretching you out, prepping you for something. You could feel your poor pussy stretching to accommodate the abrupt entrance of her fingers.

“Oh I know, baby. Feel good? Atta girl, you’re taking it so well.” she praised, the switches between comfort and degrading were confusing you—that’s exactly what she wanted to happen. “Greedy, look how you’re sucking me in.” she commented playfully, tilting your head down so you could actually watch her fingers working your poor hole. A string of weak whines left you from the sight, both from embarrassment and pleasure.

Ellie just shushed you, her fingers curling inside your warm heat and causing you to squirm a bit. “Shh, you’re fine, sweetheart. You wanted attention, right?” she asked, her eyes locked on yours, holding an almost uncomfortable amount of eye contact. “ Do you think I’m stupid enough to not notice you grinding on my thigh while i’m trying to play a game?” her voice was patronizing, so mean in the way that made you tied between the want to make her angrier or the want to make her softer.

“No..” you mumbled in response, trying to bury your face in her neck. There were wet squelching sounds every time she made a scissoring motion or delved in particularly deeper. You were in heaven, soft moans and pants escaping your throat—desperately looking for something to scramble and cling onto.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, she was unsatisfied, again. Not that she was actually angry—she just liked an excuse to be rough with you. Though that wasn’t too barbaric, you loved it.

She moved her hand up towards your neck again, you knew what was coming. She grabbed the side of it, squeezing a bit harder now. Her thumb was pressing against your trachea with enough pressure that made you feel nervous but turned on all at once.

“No? No what, baby? You can’t be that stupid already, my fingers can’t take away your literacy.” she mocked, it was just a filler question to make you feel stupid—to make you think. There was still that smirk on her face, the smirk that told you she was enjoying this, the smirk that told you how much she liked fingering you and watching you fall apart on something that was strictly hers.

The weak whines and moans that left you only fueled her, her fingers started fucking into you at an unnecessarily rough pace. Ellie wanted to make you see stars, and oh, you would.

When she started fingering you faster, all you could do was weakly grab onto her arms. One hand was on the bicep of the arm in charge of fingering you, while the other was on the one choking you. Your hands practically scrambled there, your thighs shaking and your hands squeezing her biceps as a means to ground yourself.

“Ellie, fuck! No—I don’t think you’re stupid!” you cried out, barely managing to choke out the words between pants and weak moans. The way her fingers were stretching you out was so addictive, you could feel yourself clamping down on them with every thrust, a coil in your stomach tightening unbearably. But she just looked at you, her eyes darting between your pussy sucking in her fingers and the needy expression on your face. Something in her eyes was just so sultry.

Ellie was addicted to the feeling of your walls around her fingers, sucking her as a silent plead for more. It was a beautiful sight, all she could do was let out a soft groan every time she could feel you tighten around her.

“Come on baby, do you wanna cum?” she taunted, a grin still on her face as she watched you fall apart, as her fingers worked your pussy like it was second nature, like she was meant to do it. Like every single thrust of her digits was a silent word, a word of belonging, everything you couldn’t sum your relationship up with in simple words. Like every moan validated how much you belonged to her.

“Beg for it, maybe I’ll be generous.”

And you did.

You nodded feverishly, both hands scrambling to the arm closest to your pussy, squeezing her bicep. “Please, Els! I need it, please just let me cum—shit!” you squeezed your eyes shut, but the pressure on your throat tightened. Your eyes flew open and you let out a weak yelp, in response, she immediately loosened her grip. “I’m..so close!”

You assumed that if you begged she’d she asked you to, she’d let you cum.

You were terribly mistaken.

Ellie watched with a smirk as your back arched, listened as your breathing got a bit deeper. And then as abrupt and as harsh as she started—she pulled her fingers out. You couldn’t believe it at first, your mind was far too clouded by pleasure to even process what happened. But when you came to your senses, you saw her smiling at you innocently—or not so innocently.

Did she seriously deprive you of orgasming even though she made you beg? How cruel.

“What the hell?!” you complained, you could already feel tears prickling in your eyes. You wanted to cum so bad, your cunt was aching so bad it hurt. All the blood had rushed there, making you hyper aware of how horny you actually were. Especially after being worked up like that.

Ellie frowned at you, though it wasn’t in sympathy; more of a mocking frown. “I said maybe I’d let you, are you that brain dead already?” she asked, popping her now sticky fingers into her mouth right in front of you, sucking them clean. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t realize. I’ll help you think again when we’re done, yeah?”

A weak moan escaped your throat, stray tears streaming down your cheeks. She seemed a bit remorseful, but you couldn’t even think of the fact that could be false too. She stepped back a bit, stroking your hair comfortingly and kissing your forehead. “Stay put, sweetheart.” she commanded softly, before walking over to her nightstand.

Ellie crouched down to second drawer, that was the drawer. You immediately felt hopeful, it was obvious she was getting a toy. Your guess was right, she pulled out a green strap, one she used on you quite often—maybe she liked seeing her favorite color wreck your cunt by her own doing. Then she brought it over to you, setting it between your thighs as a tease, but you weren’t amused.

She quickly discarded her pants, throwing them in the same place she threw your attire beforehand. Ellie’s eyes were on you again, so intimidating but so sexy. You bucked your hips a bit, maybe trying to at least get to touch your clit to the toy near your sopping heat. It didn’t go unnoticed, though, Ellie immediately picked the strap back up and held it. There was a knowing smile on her face, it only grew when she brought the strap to your lips.

“Suck.” is all she said—plain and simple but direct in the most sensible way she could be. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and teary eyes, you opened your mouth. Ellie watched the way your tongue lolled out, immediately pushing the silicone into your mouth.

Weak groans escaped you as she pushed it further, your throat now struggling to accommodate the entrance.

“Open up your throat, baby.” she coaxed, moving to rub your neck softly. You bobbed your head up and down since she held it at an angle, looking at her through your eyelashes.

Ellie let out a groan, her hand moving from your throat to your face. She cupped both your cheeks, making you groan and stop bobbing your head. “Your lips look so pretty when you’re wrapped around things. Both lips are the same, i guess” she joked.

You actually laughed at that, causing you to gag on the silicone into your throat. She pulled it out after that, her eyes sparkling at the sight of drool connecting your lips to the toy. She needed to be inside you, she needed it now.

She immediately worked to slip it on, she was so used to the act of doing so it took little to no time at all. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight, it was ridiculous to be so experienced at putting. a fucking strap on.

Ellie didn’t immediately start ravaging you, which was unusual for her. She was never exactly known as a patient person, especially when it came to the idea of watching you squirm.

Instead, she plopped back down on her chair, her eyes looking up at you with a deep, sultry hint in her eyes. She simply smiled and patted her lap, beckoning you towards her with her pointer and middle finger. “C’mere, baby. ‘You wanna ride me?”

That was probably the sexist thing you had ever seen. Damn.

You were quick to hop off the desk, your legs trembling with sheer need. Arousal webbing between your thighs in a way that made you feel filthy. The whole room felt heavier, as if your clouded mind was contagious to the world around you.

Within seconds you were hovering over Ellie’s lap, your eyes darting between the strap and her naturally alluring eyes. She grabbed your hips softly, guiding you closer until the tip was splitting your folds apart like it was separating rose petals. With a gentle hold on you, she softly eased you down further. Your teeth clenched together a bit as you sank down onto the object, immediately clamping down on it tightly with both relief and slight spurn.

“Mmh, Ellie..” is all you could manage, your head tilting back a bit so you could sigh. She held your hips still, letting you adjust—or so you thought. Usually she’d start you off, bouncing you up and down in a way that had you questioning how much she likes maneuvering you and all your life choices.

But not this time, she simply held you still.

Even when you tried to do it yourself, thinking that’s what she wanted to see—she held you still. You immediately got antsy, the aching in your cunt couldn’t be ignored, it was throbbing with need. You were so horny, one more antic away from leaving to finish yourself off in the bathroom.

“Ellie, please? Why aren’t you letting me move?” you questioned, your voice was pleading but also a bit irritated. The way you just sat there with her strap inside you was torturous, you were sure your pussy would clamp so hard you wouldn’t be able to move if she let you.

“I don’t know, Do you deserve it?” Ellie asked, a sardonic and sarcastic tint in her tone.

How cruel was she? She already ripped an orgasm away from you and now she was denying you any pleasure? All because you nagged her for attention.

“..What?” you managed, your breathing a bit labored. With desperation, your hips tried to buck forwards and up and down and deeper—everywhere. But Ellie didn’t even let you move an inch, keeping your hips firmly situated.

This was absolute torture. Your eyes immediately prickled with tears again from sheer need.

“Do you deserve it? It’s a simple question, baby. I know you’re not that stupid.” she teased, tilting her head at you. “C’mon, my baby is so much better than that.”

You were dumbfounded, blinking at her with confusion and desperation as tears streamed down your face. Ellie offered you a pouty frown—though it was so obviously bullshit.

“Awh, baby. Don’t cry, maybe if you apologize I’ll be nice.” she suggested, her voice clearly hinting at you to act on that.

“Apologize? Why?” you asked, but you knew damn well why. Silently, you cursed yourself for dragging this conversation on instead of just apologizing. Your poor hole was throbbing so bad, it almost felt good—almost.

Ellie had such a condescending smirk on her face, but everytime you looked at her you’d clench around the strap. “Well, do you want to cum? I could make it so much worse if you don’t wanna cum..” she said, trailing her hands up and down your lower back, squeezing your ass, “You know, keep you all still for longer. I could just sit here and mold you around me.”

A weak noise crawled out of your throat, you immediately shook your head feverishly. “No, Els! I’m sorry for nagging you so much, please—please, I wanna cum!” you pleaded, a few stray tears spilling from your eyes.

Fortunately for you, Ellie seemed satisfied. She slid her hands back up to your hips, adjusting her grip on you. With that, she started bouncing you up and down at a slow pace. It was tortuously slow, but relief crashed over your body when you finally felt something.

“Good girl, see how easy it is?” she praised, which was obviously sarcastic again. She kept you going at a slow pace, bringing your hips down deep—but not deep enough. bringing you forward a bit to just barely brush against the devastating spot inside you—but still not enough. she practically had your body mapped out, something she took personal pride in.

This was torture for you, but in the best way. Your breathing was labored, your pussy gratefully sucking in the silicone, the plush of your flesh puffing besides the firm grip she had on you. It was intoxicating but depriving all at once.

“Els, please! I need more, I’m sorry!” you apologized again, your voice coming out more in hiccups rather than coherent words. Yet she seemed to understand anyway, she was used to seeing you in such a mess.

“Oh I know, baby. You’re so sorry, so, so sorry. It’s okay, sweetheart, I can’t fault you for just wanting attention.” her voice almost seemed softer now—a stark contrast to the event taking place. Ellie adjusted her grip on you once again, raising you you up and then slamming you back down.

A sharp cry left your throat at the sudden force, the tip kissing your cervix in a way that made you squirm. “F-fuck, baby!” you practically squealed, hearing a small laugh come from her as she watched you fall apart. Your sopping hole was sucking her in so good, she eventually loosened her grip on your hips so you could move on your own.

“You have such a pretty pussy, y’know? I love the way you suck me in like that.” she commented, her voice was low and full of whatever magic she had in her vocal cords that made your panties sticky every time she spoke. She almost felt like she could feel you sucking her in, but watching was just as satisfying.

You continued bouncing up and down on her strap, humiliating squelching sounds coming from between you and the silicone. The room was full of wet sounds, panting, huffing, moans, tension, and the ambiance of sex. Your lips were stuck in a parted opening, soft moans and gasps leaving you everytime you felt her deep inside you. Like she was making an imprint inside you, like she belonged inside your warm heat, like her eyes were drinking up all the juices from your cunt that she couldn’t.

“Just like that, you’d think you were made for riding me.” she joked her fingers moving to your tits. she circled her thumb around of of them softly, pausing to press down a bit harder. She moved towards the left one and licked it softly, relishing in the way you squirmed and moaned. She pinched and sucked at your nipples softly, but enough to keep you satisfied.

As much as Ellie adored watching you ride her, she wasn’t getting enough friction from it—she wasn’t the one supposed to be deprived of pleasure. She stilled your hips again, her fingers digging into the plush of your thighs firmly.

Before you could even grasp it, she pulled out of you. Her strap’s absence leaving you completely empty. You stumbled to your feet, but before you could even whine she was bending you over the desk. A gasp of air was squeezed out of your lungs as you were pushed down against the desk. She pushed your head into the wood, your cheek pressing against it as you writhed.

Without warning, Ellie slammed back into you. A sharp cry left your throat, both in surprise and from the feeling of her deep inside you again. Your face was smooshed into the desk, silencing you wordlessly. “Don’t whine, I know you love being stuffed.” she said, stroking your hair but keeping your head pinned down.

“Ugh..I can never get over this angle.” Ellie rasped, her voice was so husky and seductive. Despite her attempts to seem unaffected, she was biting her lip and panting behind you. It was hard to act so mean when you looked like this, when you were bent over a desk full of her, when you looked back at her with those lovely, pleading eyes.

Oh, she was just as much of a mess as you were.

Ellie started off slow, fucking into you with deep, satyric thrusts. Her eyes were trained on the way your sopping cunt sucked her in greedily every time, her mind full of thoughts she wouldn’t say out loud for once.

With ease, her hand slipped onto the back of your head, pulling it up by your hair. The way your back arched when she did so was so rousing. She moaned at the sight, her fingers caught, tangled in your beautiful hair. She couldn’t help but pick up the pace from the erotic sight, the friction of the strap rubbing against her clit made her sigh.

Your hands were sprawled out on the desk, desperately looking for something to help keep you up, to help you ground yourself from the object being thrusted in and out of your shaking body, the feeling was both addicting and overwhelming. Your hips tried to meet hers in the middle of each thrust, but you were becoming limp.

“You’re so pretty, baby. I should fuck you in front of a mirror sometime so you can see.” she suggested breathlessly, fucking you like an animal. Ellie’s thrusts were powerful, rough, deep, overwhelming—but also so fucking raw feeling. You felt as if she was rearranging something devastating inside you every time she’d hit the spot that made you want to scream.

“Els..fuck! Right there!” you managed to gasp out, the sound of skin slapping and wet squelching sounds from your pussy becoming all the more audible. Your eyes were seconds away from rolling back, you felt your stomach tighten in a way that was uncomfortable but delicious at the same time.

Ellie laughed, “Yeah? Good spot?” she said, trying to angle her hips in the spot that made you moan like that. She kept her hips angled there, her pelvis smashing against the plush of your ass with each thrust.

Ellie offered you a lopsided smirk, even if you couldn’t see it—you knew she was reeling with satisfaction. She tilted your head back further, the arch in your back only made her slide in deeper. “C’mon, I wanna hear you. Just like that..you sound so sweet, baby.” she groaned out, the pleasure building up in her as well. The way you moaned her name so breathlessly made her feral, it made her want to drive even more sounds out of you.

You couldn’t even think straight, all your mind was focused on was the feeling of your cunt being stretched perfectly for her, just in the way you knew she loved to see.

Ellie had memorized the way you’d tense up, the way you’d start your squirm, the way you’d try and fuck yourself against her when you were about to cum—you didn’t even have to warn her. “Are you close, babe? I’ll let you cum this time, promise.”

You immediately gasped, the hope you felt was almost sad. After that much torture, she had better let you cum. “Yes—please! I’m so close, don’t stop!”

“Yeah? ‘You gonna cum for me? Go ahead, lemme see it.”

That was all you needed, the raspiness, monotonous but needy tone of her voice always made you clench. Your head tilted back a bit further, pressing up against her fingers tangled in your hair. A long string of moans left you, majority of which were pathetic gasps of her name. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, a release of tingling sensations bursting through your body all at once.

Ellie watched in awe as your walls spasmed around her strap, it was a sight that never got old, with a few more thrusts, she hung her head low and groaned, cursing and biting her lip as she also finished. She’d always had such an embarrassing orgasm face—so she usually hid it.

It wasn’t embarrassing, it was just adorable in the way it was so slutty. Adorable in the way she tried to act so mean but when she came—she just fell apart.

Both of you just remained there for a moment, panting and trying to catch your breath. Soaking up all the remaining pleasure and energy from the room around you. Your mind felt hazy, you felt like all your brain cells were gone the moment you came—perhaps gone in the humiliating amount of liquid arousal between your thighs.

Ellie pulled out soon enough, groaning as she saw your stretched out pussy staring at her. She put her hands on your shoulders, guiding you to stand up straight. You stumbled into her chest, hands scrambling to grip at her shirt for stability. She just laughed, kissing the top of your head tenderly like she didn’t just fuck your brains out and be a bitch to you.

You held her back, burying your face in her neck and groaning. All you could think about was the wetness webbing between your thighs and the smell of your girlfriend.

Ellie cleared her throat, rubbing your back softly. “Let me clean you up.” she said tenderly—before ruining it. “Wanna watch me play my game? I learned something super cool.”

You were absolutely dumbfounded, was she serious?

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” you commented, sighing into her neck weakly.

Ellie blinked and stared at the floor, registering your answer into her brain—poorly, might I add.

“So..yes?”

“You’re so insufferable.”

TAGS!! <3 @valeisaslut (50x) @eriiwaiii2 @haithone @usuck

A/N - this is kind of ass, i apologize. been struggling to write for some reason, FORGIVE MEEE. anywho, i hope you all have a nice easter!

#ellie williams #wlw #ellie williams tlou #lesbian #tlou part 2 #ellie williams imagine #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #wlw love

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comicaurora · 4 months ago

Note

A bit of a strange question, but if there were any of your videos you were to "remake" today for any reason (ex: you feel like you misrepresented the original text or spread misinformation), which would it be and why? None of them is a perfectly valid answer

Again: bit of a strange question, but I've been thinking about my own creations and how I could have done so much better with some of them, but I also know that is a sign of my growth and constantly chasing "what if I did this instead" isn't always healthy for nurturing a creative mindset, and I was wondering what your opinion might be as a Creator of Things with a bit more experience than I

There's been a few trope talks where I've thought later of other angles I could've explored that might warrant sequels or part 2s, but I don't dislike any of the summaries enough to justify a rework.

I always find "I could've done this better if I made it now" to be a bit of a fallacy. I'm only better at making things now because I made all those earlier things. If I knew everything I'd learn from making a project before I started the project, it wouldn't come out the same.

I think when it comes to the "rework remake perfect" instinct, it helps to zero in on what the impulse is really grounded in. In my experience, more often than not, it's not actually about making the art better, except incidentally. It's usually about showing that you are better. It's demonstrating your competence and your higher standards and your skills, and more importantly it's overwriting the proof that you were once less than perfect. If people look at your old work and think that's all you're capable of, they'll be judging you poorly!

If that's the motivator, it's a very unhelpful one. You can't control for being harshly or incorrectly judged. It's a fruitless effort to stave off potentially upsetting outdated criticism, and it's not even going to work. Fear of critique is an unreliable and untrustworthy motivator.

If it really is about making the art itself better, perfecting your magnum opus with your newly leveled-up skills, that's a little more solid. But from where I'm standing, it's always better to use those skills to make something new instead of polishing something old. The older, unpolished work has already acquired its audience that finds it appealing for reasons that might never occur to you. Trying to bury or overwrite it just deprives that audience of the thing they like, and maybe makes them feel bad for having liked it in the first place. Also, usually when you look back on the older work, you'll conclude that the problem is everything and it'll need to be torn down and started from scratch. I know when I revisited the first three chapters of the comic, when I let my critic brain spin up, it wasn't shading or lineart I wanted to fix - it was panel composition, overall pacing, the entire structure of the chapters as a whole. I would've had to make them all over again to be happy with them, and they wouldn't be the same story by the end.

I've been thinking a lot about the Discworld through this lens lately. It ended up over 40 books long, but everyone agrees that the first two are not what you should start with, because they're the worst ones. They're entirely parodic, purely referential of at-the-time major fantasy series, and borderline mean-spirited in places. If you haven't read Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and Dragonriders of Pern, you're not gonna understand like a full 50% of The Colour Of Magic.

It's clear that when he started in on them, Pratchett was entirely focused on taking the piss out of a genre he found mostly shallow and unimpressive. But the Discworld wouldn't leave his head, and everything he made fun of he clearly eventually found himself overthinking. He'd make little one-off jokes in the early books about Dwarves having no women and a hundred words for gold, and then twenty books later he'd have a Dwarf gender revolution make waves across the Disc, and then he'd write Thud!, a book that delves deeper into the nuances of Dwarf societal structure than Tolkien ever did.

If you look for them, there are continuity errors everywhere in Discworld. In his introductory book, Carrot defused a dwarf bar full of rowdy brawlers by guilting them all into writing to their poor lonely mothers back home. Shortly thereafter, Carrot will be outraged at the mere concept of an openly female dwarf. Pratchett even eventually wrote Thief of Time, a book that loosely explains that the Disc makes no sense because history has been broken and put back together incorrectly twice, and therefore any continuity errors are because of that.

He's the writer. He could've gone back and fixed it, edited the reprints to be less disruptively discontinuous with the later books. Instead he continuously moved forward and allowed the world he made to grow without cutting it off from its roots. And because he didn't bury his older, far worse work, we have the privilege of following the Disc's evolution from the very start, and seeing how this shallow, stock fantasy world parody became something incredibly rich and complex without ever pretending like its early installments never happened.

Anyway, that's why I think it's better to move forward. You make more good stuff that way.

#asks #not aurora #writing stuff

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uchispeach · 4 months ago

Text

Killer

Dark! Bully! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: NON CON, SMUT, rough sex, manhandling & degradation, choking, breeding kink, bullying, violent & abusive behavior, Mean! Rafe, Bully! Rafe…

A/N: Sorry for disappearing, I’ve just had a shit ton of family problems. I hope I can update a bit faster from now on! ALSO lmk if you want this to become a series! 💕

A laugh, dripping with mockery, echoed through the vast room, sparking a ripple of chuckles and whispered insults from the nearby group of boys.

Rafe Cameron’s body stretched lazily in the chair, making it seem almost comically small under his heavy frame. Even with his limbs sprawled out in complete relaxation, the outline of his hard muscles pressed against his shirt, as if daring to break free at any moment. You couldn't deny he looked attractive, exuding an undeniable magnetism in that confident, almost predatory pose, his new buzz cut only amplifying the arrogance that oozed from him. But that ugly, smug smirk? It made your bones ache and your throat dry up in ways you couldn’t explain.

His eyes, the color of storm clouds, lingered on yours with a deliberate intensity, delighting in your discomfort, relishing in every flinch and subtle shift of your gaze. You turned away, hoping your disinterest would bore him eventually, but you knew it wouldn’t.

No matter how hard you focused on the lecture, his presence was like an intrusive, constant drill on your brain—his burning gaze a distraction that gnawed at your senses. How naive had you been to think he'd ever leave you alone? Every time you raised your hand in class, you could count on him to whisper some stupid joke under his breath. How foolish had you been to think he would ever stop tormenting you? This sick dynamic between you two had been a game since childhood, and if anything, he seemed to thrive on it.

His once-small fingers had grown long and strong -now covered in silver rings. Those same digits that used to tangle on your hair and pull from it until your scalp burned in pain. His legs were now far longer, but they had always been longer than yours, outpacing you as they chased you through the school halls in all infant and adolescent years, always with the aim of making you stumble and fall to your knees. But his mouth had never changed. It had only sharpened, evolving into something far more dangerous.

You’d convinced yourself you were above all of it. Charleston had felt like a fresh start, and you’d thought the Pogue curse might finally be something you could outrun. But when Rafe Cameron showed up once more, everything you’d built: your confidence, your peace of mind—began to crumble, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the raw, unresolved tension between you.

You were studying to be a teacher, the first in your family to receive a scholarship that promised a brighter future. Your days were filled with lesson plans, textbooks, and the weight of academic expectation. Every second of your time was accounted for as you worked tirelessly to carve out a new path for yourself, one that didn't involve being brought back to the past or the memories of him. You didn’t have time for distractions, certainly not for him. But here he was, always lurking just at the edges of your life, a dark cloud you couldn’t escape.

Rafe was studying for an MBA, the complete opposite of you, and yet fate had forced you into a shared class. You would’ve done anything to avoid him, but trapped in between those fours walls, mere meters away from him - it just seemed impossible.

And there he was, at your left, staring with a look of sick pleasure every time he found you trying to focus. His presence was suffocating, like the air itself became dense with his attention. His words, the snide remarks whispered under his breath, were like a weight on your chest, making every breath harder to take.

He harassed you constantly in that class—every. single. time. Without fail. No matter how much you tried to bury yourself in your notes, no matter how hard you tried to ignore his mocking chuckles, his eyes always found you, always zeroed in on your every move. He’d challenge you with pointless questions, make stupid comments about your work, his voice dripping with condescension. But it didn’t stop there. His reach extended beyond the classroom, following you into the hallways, his tall frame casting a shadow that would make your stomach turn. He would appear out of nowhere, as though drawn to you by some sick fixation, and make his presence known with a smirk or a taunt, forcing you to look up from your books, to meet those stormy eyes full of wickedness.

He would ‘accidentally’ bump into you, making your school supplies fall over. He licked his lower lip when you bent over to pick the mess up. His front would get dangerously close to your back in any queue, sometimes getting bold enough to grind slightly against you. He would move you around like a rag doll, always putting his huge palm on your ass to push you to the side. Still, there was nothing as uncomfortable as having his dirty eyes scanning you from head to toe at any given time - he licked his lower lip in amusement, making your cheeks grow hotter.

You’d always hoped, prayed, that once the class ended, he’d disappear—vanish into his own world and leave you to yours. But you were wrong. Every time the teacher dismissed you, and you gathered your things to leave, he’d be right there, waiting. It was like clockwork. His long, strong fingers would slide into the pockets of navy trousers, the scent of his manly cologne wafting over you in an intoxicating way. His gaze would follow you as you tried to make a clumsy exit, his footsteps closing the distance between you with every passing second. You hated that you could never outrun him. Hated how he always found a way to corner you.

And just as you thought you might make it out of the door, safe, free—he’d appear at the threshold, standing in your way with that damn smirk of his, a look that seemed to promise nothing but trouble.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice would slither through the air like poison.

Your heart would pound in your chest, but you’d force your eyes to look anywhere but at him, hoping and praying, that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day he’d leave you alone. But you knew better. You always knew better.

And now, you could feel it again; the familiar pressure of his presence, creeping closer, dark and inevitable.

“What’s that I’ve heard?” He scratched his head while pressing his brows together, pretending to be deep in thought. “…Oh, right” Now, enlightened; he stepped forward. Your almost wobbly legs did their best on distancing themselves -though, they weren’t allowed much movement after hitting a desk.

The back of your knees stung against the protruding piece of wood. “You tryna leave…study abroad, right?” Your eyes peeled in horror, and you hid in yourself as much as you could when his tall frame overpowered yours. “No, no. Look me right in the eye.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. Without any hesitation, his cold rings found their place under your chin, burying in your skin when lifting up your face. “How-how do you know?” Your stuttering made him smile -predatory grin adorning his harsh features. “Everyone thinks you’re smart…” The pain on your neck amplified at the uncomfortable position.

“…But I think you’re just a dumb bitch.” He spat at you. Tone as rough as the domineering grip on your jaw. “…Bragging left and right - you really thought I wouldn’t find out?” He shook you with erratic movement. The pain you felt under his digits distracted you from a perverted knee slowly opening its way between your legs.

His unruly eyes took a break from tormenting yours as he admired your skirt’s fabric draping over your thighs. The blond snob flashed you his hungry canines while biting into his lower lip.

The horror only amplified when a sharp thrust attacked your clothed sex. His impatient knee continued to roughly rub against the cotton underwear, cruelty reflected on the fast pace. “Ha. Would you look at that? The dirty slut is getting wet!” You whined in disgust when Rafe pressed harder on the soaked circle.

The scarce dignity you thought you held was harshly stripped from you. On his arms you were nothing but a squeaky toy he got to bite and squeeze whenever he desired, and little by little you felt victim to a raw resignation.

The next thing you sensed was his palm abandoning your neck and moving onto your meaty thighs. He gave the flesh a squeeze, followed by a lusty groan leaving his pinkish lips.

Your mind tried to wander away, but the situation was just too much; too much stimulation everywhere, too much heat coming from his larger body, too much degradation directed your way in mean words and touches, too much torturous pressure applied to your virgin cunt and too much pawing at your unexplored parts.

The next thing your brain registered was a rip. The sound of something being torn apart, and if you didn’t see the light fabric pooling around your feet, you could’ve almost swear it was the noise your spirit made when breaking in half. “And I was thinking about making it nice for you…fucking you on a bed of roses or some corny shit.” He talked with nothing but mockery, while leaning onto your chest. “But I guess you prefer it when I treat you like a cheap whore.” The Cameron boy finished it off with a chuckle, his muscles flexing hard under the rumbling laugh.

You wanted to contradict him, defend your honor and pull him off of you, but all protests got stuck in your throat when he took you by it and slammed your upper body against the desk. The rigid wood wasn’t welcoming. Your head spinned uncontrollably at the beast-like hit.

The lack of oxygen didn’t stop you from hearing him unbuckling his pants. Panic grew louder as you heard his clothes falling to the Classroom’s floor. Worries clouded you in a tumultuous storm, and you did your best to cover yourself up when the only layer covering your vulnerable hole was pushed to the side. “Open your fucking legs or I’ll break your useless skull!” He demanded in a crazied tone, ripping your limbs apart and throwing them over his shoulders.

“Please, don’t.” Your eyelids squeezed together, shielding your irises from looking at the violating scene. “That’s right, beg me” Warm breath imposed itself above your slit, followed by a warmer liquid dripping down your folds. “Gotta make it wetter…I don’t want you breaking at the first use.” Even though your sight was all black, you could imagine his satisfied grin decorating that diabolically handsome face.

You tried pulling away when a foreign limb rubbed against your sex, desperate to be let in. “Rafe, no-” You were cut short by your own screams, eyes peeled open at the feeling of his cock entering all at once.

“Fuck! Tight ass pussy.” He sounded in heaven, palms manhandling your knees to your chest while pounding ruthlessly into you.

The rest of your body went numb, being rocked up and down at the bestiality of the boy’s attack. His groans and moans overpowered your miserable sobs. Your withering form contrasted his blessed expressions, pure passion exuding from his now sweaty body.

“Your whorish cunt is squeezing the shit out of me…she doesn’t want me to leave!” He continued to talk while creating some deeply loud wet noises.

Your neck and waist’s skin burned under his cutting rings and the unsolicited friction of his grip that kept you still. Your ears got lost at the multiple pet names he called you, as well as the dirty sentences of encouragement he occasionally threw your way.

After almost an hour of feeling him impale you on his dick, you grew tired of screaming and crying, now reduced to quiet whimpers and even quieter pleas. “Stop-” He did the opposite to that, toned pelvis slapping hard against you as his tip bruised your cervix in persistent thrusts.

The cries that left your esophagus were now primal and raw, long nails holding onto his huge back. “That’s right, cry for me. You fucking deserve it!” That only made the tears fall faster down your cheeks, reaching your mouth on a salty taste.

And when his movements finally went sloppy and his member felt softer, your suffering only sharpened. “Tell me you love me” He barked at your face, drops of unintentional spit hitting your distressed face.

You thought you heard wrong, that between his chocking, and suffocating weight your brain had imagined the unimaginable. “Tell me you love me!” His features tensed, making a vein pop on his front.

Was Rafe Cameron asking for words of affirmation from you? Was the same guy who just butchered your purity asking you for your heart? Or was it just another inhumane prank? Another limit of yours he wanted to cross?

Clearly you took to much time thinking and not acting because the next thing you felt was the blond burying impossibly deeper into your core and making you know a new level of uncomfortability. “Tell me you fucking love or I’ll come inside you.” The light on the room was vast, you were sure of it. Such an elite university could only have the best illumination for its elitist students; still, his burly body completely covered yours.

His sharp jaw and eyes were enhanced by the darkness found in his stare. “I-” He trembled lightly in excitement at your shaky voice. “I love you.” You finally decreed, unknowingly sealing your fate.

His smile was like nothing you saw before, too devilish and twisted you actually doubted smiling was ever a nice gesture. And when you felt a dense liquid flooding your womb in overwhelming warmth, you swore you could see the devil in his eyes.

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likelytowritesomestuff · 2 months ago

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What 'Ducktales 2017' gave us

(in honour of the 4th anniversary of the finale)

Each one of the triplets having their own personality

Donald Duck being a good parent exactly as Goofy was shown to be in the 90s

David Tennant playing Scrooge McDcuk

Lin Manuel Miranda playing Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera...

... latinx Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera!

Mark Beaks, a character that is slowly becoming more relevant as time goes by

Female characters allowed to be flawed (Bentina, Gandra, Goldie, Della...)

DELLA DUCK!

Disabled Della Duck!

Tons of neurodivergent coded characters (Huey, Violet, Dewey, Webby...)

An entire episode that talks about autism without talking about autism

'I'm Boyd, I'm a real boy!'

Goldie and Daisy allowed to be more than someone's love interest

Goldie being a femme fatale with a fear of attachments

Scroldie with a happy ending!

Daisy being a girl boss who knows her worth but at the same time being a great girlfriend for Donald

Donald canonically going to therapy and good rep of what it means

Not one, but two great Christmas episodes!

A great modern rendition of the 3 caballeros song

Josè and Panchito being the former bandmates of Donald's college band

a Bond-style episode

a 'Ocean's Eleven'/'Die Hard' inspired episode

EMO DONALD MY BELOVED

Fethry, Gladstone and Rockerduck finally animated (for someone grown up with the italian comics it was a great moment)

WEBBIGAIL WANDERQUACK, MY PRECIOUS DAUGHTER

LENA SABREWING, MY OTHER PRECIOUS DAUGHTER

an honest portrayal of having an abusive parental figure, focusing especially on its consequences

this version of Gyro

'I do not wish to date an Earth... male'

Launchpad being dumb and at the same having great emotional intelligence

Drake Mallard becoming Darkwing Duck to honor what the superhero meant to him growing up (even if the actor tried to unalive him)

'They want grim and gritty, right? Well, happy to play the part!"

an iconic Halloween episode

'Sup party people!' and all the reunions that followed after (each one of them perfect and tearful)

Powerline being a canon singer in the Ducktales Universe

the Wandavision episode before 'Wandavision' even aired

Scrooge being more obsessed with adventures than money

'You thought there was a real genie inside?'

'What the...' 'Fowl!'

The moon song

The duke of making a mess

The Darkwing Duck episode an hour long

'BURRITOS!'

Catherine Tate playing Magica De Spell

The 'All I do Is Win' scene

Glomgold and all his sharks related plans

'According to the Junior Woodchuck guide...'

Sharpie

The freaking multidimensional portal that must cause problems in every Disney animated series

The mandatory Dragonball and Sailor Moon reference just like in every other Disney animated series

The poor teen possessed by the villain at a certain point, even worse if it's their abuser and they are trying to free themselves by them that happened in every Disney animated series

The finale plot twist

A great showrunner that ran a blog on Tumblr and answered our questions without giving to much spoilers

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mellosdrawings · 2 months ago

Note

what's Leverage (this is an invite to infodump)

Hohoho ok ok ok. Wiki-level infodump incoming!

So, Leverage is a 5 seasons TV show from the early 2010s that has come back in 2021 with a follow-up show called Leverage: Redemption. It is a Robin Hood kind of series in which a group of thieves help poor/honest citizens get back at the rich/powerful who wronged them/stole from them/abused them.

Despite most episodes following the same format, it manages to stay interesting and attention grabbing thanks to its peak attention to details. Everything you see in the episode is a hint for how they get the bad guy, which should be a staple of the police genre but which is particularly well done here.

It's a character focused series, with very interesting development and overarching themes and plots. It also does an amazing work at blurring the line between "good" people and "bad" people. Some good guys are absolute pieces of shit, some bad guys are just down on their luck. Several episodes have the main gang changing plans totally because the "bad" guy they were trying to scam ended up being just another victim, so instead they started offering their help to fight the actual bad guys. Many times the bad guy is a piece of shit but when there needs to be nuance, the job is done incredibly well.

There's also a very purposeful Found Family Trope that's just... great. It's awesome.

Now, I just said it's a very character focused show so I'll have to dive in more into the actual characters. I'll be trying to keep it to the very first episode and remain vague on the rest but there will be some spoilers ahead! Especially so since every single in-show introduction is a masterpiece that I must talk about.

The Mastermind: Nathan "Nate" Ford is the brain of the group. He's an ex-Insurance employee who got fucked over by said insurance company when they refused to pay for his son's medical fees (something I'm sure many US citizens can relate to). He ends up having to work with criminals he has previously hunted down before, which gives him a good overall knowledge of how they all work while his time in the insurance company explains why he knows so many scams.

Despite being the "token good guy" in the first season, I'd say he's the most interesting at first. He's a self destructive genius with a terrible alcohol problem, and that alcohol storyline is just so beautifully handled in the first 2 seasons, I was completely hooked. Starting season 3 the line between honest man and criminal blurs though, as it should considering his activities for the past couple years, so he lost my interest just a bit. Still a very strong character with amazing storylines and a terrible personality.

Among the Found Family Trope, he is the depressed alcoholic father who pushes his kids too far but would still do everything to make sure they come home safe. His arc is literally going from deadbeat dad to the dad that steps up.

The Hacker: Alec Hardison is an early 20 years old sassy chatty black kid who, not content of being one hell of a hacker, is also an amazing grifter who picks up skills on the fly. While the sassy chatty hacker who is the comic relief of the show is a common trope, he's one hell of a charming character who will weaponise everything he has underhand to get away with stuff. Absolute kudos to his actor who was also in his early 20s at the time who regularly offer some of the best performances ever seen on TV. I swear that guy is too good.

His introduction depicts all that in seconds. He's the first thief to appear, already talking his head off and giving his opinion on the technology he's been given for the job. His introductory flashback is interesting as it doesn't show him in the middle of hacking, but instead getting caught by police having fun in a hotel room he stole and giving a Star Wars reference. Just from both of those you flag him as a young easy-going guy who still messes up a bunch.

In the Found Family Trope, he is the youngest child who messes up a lot. He has the most obvious father/child undertone with Nate, and an equally obvious bigger/younger sibling undertone with Eliot.

The Hitter: Eliot Spencer is a thirty something years old man whose job is keeping the rest of the gang safe. When it comes to the hardened ex-military trope, you expect scary brooding man who always avoids being hit while getting rid of his opponents in seconds. That's not quite the case with Eliot. Yes, he gives off scary and brooding vibes, but he actually has the biggest heart of the gang. He's regularly shown being the one who worries the most for others, and there's an ongoing thing about him being the defacto person to go to get help help when you're 18 and under. Eliot has an incredible amount of screentime being soft and helping/protecting children.

Not only that, Eliot isn't some kind of super soldier. He gets hit. A lot. But the point is that he always gets back on his feet to continue the fight. His hitter prowesses come more from the fact that he has a lot of knowledge in the matter, rather than from being a perfect fighter. He also has an underlying theme with self-control and anger issues. Eliot is a character that is constantly annoyed/angry, and who uses fighting as a self-regulating tool.

On top of all that, he's also a good grifter who, when not there to hit people, is there to hit on girls. He's regularly used as eye candy to keep the attention away from the others. He's also (not so) surprisingly low key. Eliot is often described as "hiding his game well", his opponents often underestimating him.

Eliot is the second thief to appear on screen, being asked by Hardison what exactly was his job here and not answering, nailing in the "low key" aspect of him that confuses his opponents. It's reinforced by his introductory flashback which has him sipping coffee while having guns pointed at him, then cutting to the outside of the room so we don't see his skill in action, then back to the room where he's still sipping his coffee, unfazed, while everybody else is K.O. The last part of his introduction comes when he finally shows what he is capable of, appearing out of nowhere to put out of commission several guards who hold Hardison at gunpoint, to which he finally answer to Hardison earlier question of what exactly he was here for, with a smile. That's where you start getting a glimpse of his softer side that is entirely focused on keeping his team safe.

In the Found Family Trope, he is the eldest son. He bullies Hardison at least once per episode (and Hardison fucks him over about as many times too), and is the one who, with Sophie, keeps Nate in check so that he doesn't go overboard. Nate and Eliot have a lot in common and while they are rarely clashing, there is definitely a tension between them.

The Thief: Parker is a (most likely autistic (edit: she is indeed autistic, it's canon)) young woman who loves money and throwing herself off of buildings. She starts off as quirky/weird/off putting until we (and the main gang) start to understand her. She is both the most obvious and the most complex character of the bunch, who unabashedly loves what she does and has a lot of fun with her new partners, all the while having absolutely no idea how to handle interpersonal relationships.

She is the one that grows the most during the show, picking up skills left and right (fighting from Eliot, grifting from Sophie, etc), developing her interpersonal skills and empathy, learning to rely on others and falling in love. Her evolution is just the best and she never gives up her whimsy while developing.

She's the third thief to appear on screen, but she's actually the first one being mentioned! Nate tells his client that "Parker is crazy" before agreeing to take the job. She appears hanging upside down from a rafter, interrupting the boys to ask playfully if she can have an earpiece too, and finally jumping off the building with a joyful yell before Nate can give the go. Then in her introductory flashback, we see her as a young kid, with a terrible family situation, literally blowing up her house after her "father" dared her to become a better thief to get the bunny plushie she wanted. And so you know Parker is the wild card of the team who is actually pretty forthright once you've pinpointed her interests.

In the Found Family Trope, she's the middle child who has... whatever is going on with Hardison and Eliot. While the boys have more obvious family interactions with Nate (the father), Parker mainly has them with Sophie (the mom) who teaches her the most out of everybody. Nate still regularly is there to explain things to her when she's confused, and Eliot teaches her how to bully Hardison (lovingly of course).

The Grifter: Sophie Devereaux is an actress that the gang fetches when their client fucks them over. It's a bit hard to depict her personality like the others because her whole theme is that she has identity issues. As a grifter she has many identities, and she plays them so often that she comes to forget who she even is in the first place. She's a quick witted, caring person who helps tempering Nate and coming up with plans, she's a femme fatale who either seduces or instills fear in her preys, she's the one who puts at ease the clients who come ask the group for help, she's the one who comes up with on the spot solutions when something goes awry and needs an immediate fix, she's the one always at the forefront of the plans keeping the attention on her so the others can do their jobs, etc etc. Sophie is everything and nothing all at once, which makes her a fascinating character that is difficult to explain properly.

She's the last thief to appear on screen, being brought by Nate. She's introduced as a terrible actress, all three thieves being appalled by her prestation on stage while Nate is smiling wildly. Then we get a glimpse of the romantic tension between her and Nate when he asks her for help, and another glimpse at their closeness when the three thieves turn to her when Nate confuses them, only for Sophie to tell them he really hasn't changed. Her introductory flashback focuses on her stealing a painting, being intercepted by Nate, and them both firing at each other. Finally the last part of her introduction comes when she shows off her actual acting talents while grifting the bad guy, startling Hardison who was still worried about her acting skills.

Sophie is introduced with her acting skills and her relationship with Nate instead of her personality or quirks like the other (the only quirk here being that she's a terrible actress on stage but an excellent one when she's grifting), which keeps nailing down her identity crisis.

Since we're on Sophie, I'd like to point out how well the writing team handled the actress being pregnant and needing to stay away from the show for a while. Her reason for being away tapped into her identity crisis, but she still was there to give advices to the others, mainly the "kids". While it was obvious in one episode that they placed the characters and angled the camera to avoid showing she was pregnant, the rest was handled beautifully well.

The show seems very respectful of its actors, to the point it lets them showcase their skills in season 3 like Hardison and Eliot's actors' music prowesses. It also allows them to shine in the filler episodes by having them play other roles, to which they deliver amazing performances (especially Hardison's actor. I'll never shut up about him, he's just perfect).

And yes, that was the time when we still had filler episodes! And they are GREAT! Some of my favorite episodes are filler episodes, like one where the whole gang go over a theft they all accidentally did together years ago, constantly fucking each other over without realising, all from their own perspectives. There are jabs at each other, like Sophie's accent or Eliot being a ladykiller and a terrifying psychopath, but there's also an insane amount of details scattered. One of my favorite being that everybody else saw the head of security carrying a rifle while Eliot was the only one (save Nate) to see it as only a box. It's a minor background detail that the show doesn't even point out, but when I caught it I got super invested in the episode. At first I believed it was because Eliot hates guns and sees them as sticks to beat people up with, but with the last perspective being shown with the "truth", it turned out Eliot was the only one seeing it as a box because it was a box. Eliot would be attuned to the amount of danger the objects around him would pose, and so wouldn't mix up a box for a gun. Once more, it's a background detail but it just ended convincing me that the showrunners care a lot about this show.

Ok I'm officially out of fumes. I think I could go into more if I dove into the actual episodes but I don't want to spoil more than I already did. All in all, great show, handles heavy stuff like addiction and grief and neurodivergency incredibly well without being condescending, scratches a hitch by fucking over powerful people in the most horrendous ways, makes you aware of the kind of scams there are around, etc etc.

It's just one hell of a good show. 10/10 would recommend. I only wish the 5 seasons box set wasn't so expensive, I can't throw that much money in it ToT

ONE LAST THING! If you wanna watch, the seasons are all available on Youtube (US only, get your VPN ready if you're not from there) in the RIGHT ORDER! The first season was aired out of order by the network so you will probably find it in the wrong order online too. It's not much since each episode is mostly contained, but it did make me pause at one point because of consistency issues.

Season 1 link

Season 2 link

Season 3 link

Season 4 link (careful, the Playlist starts with the last episode and finishes with the first. You gotta reverse the order of the Playlist!)

Season 5 link (careful, the Playlist starts with the last episode and finishes with the first. You gotta reverse the order of the Playlist!)

Redemption S1 link (careful, the Playlist starts with the last episode and finishes with the first. You gotta reverse the order of the Playlist!)

You're welcome 😘

#Leverage #Leverage (2008)#Leverage TV #nathan ford #nate ford #alec hardison #eliot spencer #parker leverage #sophie devereaux #analysis

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ourseasone · 11 days ago

Text

CHAPTER 002 ✱ YOU’RE INTO GUYS?

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The midday bell rings across the campus of Byuksan High School, and in an instant, the energy in the building shifts. Classrooms empty as students spill into the corridors, voices rising in a chaotic symphony of teenage chatter, laughter, and the rhythmic thud of sneakers on tile floors. Sunlight streams in through the tall windows, casting long, golden beams across the bustling hallways. It’s lunchtime — a sacred, much-needed break in an otherwise dragging school day. Among the sea of students are you and Suho, navigating the crowd with the ease of two boys who have spent years weaving through these same hallways.

You have one arm slung lazily over Suho’s shoulders, a familiar gesture that makes you look like an inseparable duo out of a comic strip. The morning classes crawled by at a painfully slow pace, especially for you, having endured most of them alone while Suho snoozed with his head buried in the crook of his arm. Now free from the monotony of lectures and chalkboard scribbles, your only mission is to make it to the cafeteria in one piece and grab something edible before the good stuff disappears. You amble along, chatting about nothing in particular — class gossip, the cafeteria’s suspicious mystery meat, whether Mr. Han’s toupee is a government experiment — the usual.

“Hey… if I ate a whole candle,” Suho says, his tone eerily sincere. “Do you think I’d glow?”

You yawn, barely registering the absurdity of the question at first. But when you turn to look at Suho, you find your best friend staring at you with an expression of such intense curiosity, it’s impossible to ignore. You blink slowly, pretending to give it some thought — the kind of exaggerated, mock-scientific thinking one reserves for the dumbest of hypotheticals.

“Only if you scream while chewing,” you reply with a perfectly straight face. “That activates the wax enzymes.”

Suho’s eyes widen in awe, like you’ve just unlocked the secrets of the universe.

“So, wait… if I eat a candle and scream loud enough, I become a light source?”

“Temporarily,” you say with a nonchalant shrug. “You basically turn into a human flashlight. But it only works if you’re experiencing emotional distress.”

“Wow, that’s kinda efficient,” Suho says, nodding like he’s already calculating the savings. “Think about how much money I could save on electricity bills.”

You laugh, pulling Suho in a little tighter as you walk, amused by how genuinely he seems to be considering it.

“Sure,” you say. “Right up until your stomach melts and you start farting fire.”

Suho doesn’t even flinch. He looks you dead in the eye, voice dropping to a deadly serious tone.

“Dude. That’s not a problem — that’s literally evolution.”

You nearly trip over your own feet laughing. “No, that’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. Possibly arson.”

Suho grins wickedly. “Okay, but what if I eat two candles?”

Now thoroughly entertained by the absurdity of the conversation, you turn your head to give Suho a questioning look. Your eyebrow quirks in amusement as you mirror his grin. You’re just about to fire back with something equally ridiculous — maybe something like 'Then you qualify as a lamp and need a license' — but before you can get the words out, fate intervenes. As you’re focused on Suho, your eyes fixed on his face, you fail to notice the person directly in front of you. In the chaos of the crowded hallway, it’s all too easy to get distracted, and sure enough, you accidentally slam into someone with a sharp thud.

You jerk back in alarm, your heart racing as you whip around to see what’s happened. Your stomach drops when you see the unfortunate person sprawled out on the floor, eyes wide in surprise.

“Oh shit—” you mutter, stumbling back a step as the shock of the moment hits you. You instinctively grab onto Suho’s arm, using your friend to steady yourself. Your heart races, and you can’t shake the feeling that everything has just gone horribly wrong.

The guy you bumped into is sprawled awkwardly on the floor, looking a little dazed. It’s not clear if he’s sitting up or if he’s fallen completely, but he’s not moving much, save for the slight bob of his head as he tries to shake off the disorientation. His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, partially obscuring his face. Meanwhile, his AirPods are scattered around him, and his backpack has landed in a strange twist, one strap hanging limp on the floor like a forgotten appendage. Your eyes widen in surprise as the sight registers.

Guilt immediately bubbles up in your chest, and you pull away from Suho without thinking, rushing over to the boy’s side. Your feet move faster than your brain can process, already crouching in front of him before you even fully realize what you’re doing.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask quickly, your voice more frantic than you intend, laced with genuine concern. “Damn, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t paying attention at all.”

Your hands move without thinking, adjusting the boy’s twisted backpack, straightening it with a soft sigh. Your eyes dart to the scattered AirPods, immediately scanning the floor for the tiny pieces. The sight of them makes you feel like you’ve just caused a disaster. A small, apologetic smile tugs at your lips as your fingers gently brush across the cold floor, and a small sigh of relief escapes you when you finally find all the pieces. You pick them up one by one, treating them as if they were fragile treasures.

Just as you’re about to hand them back, you look up, only to find the boy staring at you. And not just a glance — he’s locked in a silent, intense gaze, his dark eyes fixed on your face with an unblinking focus that feels almost like being caught in the headlights of a speeding car.

And that’s when you fully register who he is. Yeon Sieun — that’s his name, the one on the tag stitched neatly into his uniform. You’ve seen him around before, sure, but never up close like this. Sieun’s dark brown hair is soft and slightly tousled, falling into his eyes in a way that’s almost endearing. The bangs just barely brush his forehead. But what really strikes you are his eyes — dark, deep, and so expressive. There’s something mesmerizing and… honestly, really breathtaking about them, something that pulls you in without warning. You can’t help but think, Wow, those are some eyes. You couldn’t tear your gaze away even if you tried.

“…My AirPods,” Sieun mutters, his voice soft but clear, snapping you out of your trance.

You blink, realizing just how long you’ve been staring. You look down at the earbuds in your hand, then back at Sieun, mentally scrambling to catch up with the situation.

“Oh! Right, your AirPods,” you say quickly, the words spilling out faster than you intend. You instantly feel like a complete idiot, realizing how ridiculous you must seem. “Sorry about that. Here.”

Sieun’s fingers brush against yours as he takes the AirPods, and you can’t help but notice the stark contrast in your hands. His are smaller, more delicate, while yours feel large and clumsy in comparison. The moment lingers for a second too long, and you find yourself standing awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. You shift your weight, feeling a sudden rush of heat in your cheeks as you reach down to offer a hand to help Sieun up.

Sieun, however, just stares at your outstretched hand. His gaze flicks between your face and the hand offered to him for what feels like an eternity. Long, awkward seconds stretch by before he finally hesitates and, with a small sigh, places his hand in yours, letting you pull him up to his feet. The height difference becomes more apparent now, with Sieun having to tilt his head up slightly to meet your eyes. It’s… cute. Really cute. You can’t help but think it’s endearing, but you quickly push that thought aside, focusing instead on the odd tension in the air.

Just then, a pointed cough pierces the silence, and you snap your head around to see Suho standing a few steps away, arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. Oh, right. You’re still in the middle of a school hallway, and this moment of awkwardness isn’t going to last forever.

You quickly turn back to Sieun.

“Are you okay?” you ask again, your voice softer this time, a genuine concern lingering in your words. You never really got an answer the first time, and you need to make sure the boy is all right.

Sieun blinks, taking a moment to process before muttering under his breath, “Hm. You walk like a drunk giraffe.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, a light chuckle escaping you despite the awkwardness of the situation.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you reply, the awkward tension of the situation easing just a bit.

Just to be sure, you quickly scan Sieun for any visible injuries. When you don’t see any bruises or scrapes, a small sigh of relief escapes you, and a genuine smile returns to your face. Then, without thinking too much about it — more out of habit than anything else — you reach up and brush a stray lock of hair away from Sieun’s forehead, a gesture you often make with Suho when you’re joking around.

“I’m really sorry again,” you say, your voice warmer now. “See you in class, Sieun.”

You give a quick wave and turn to rejoin Suho, who’s already giving you a teasing look. As you begin walking away, Suho gives you a playful slap on the back, causing you to stumble a little.

And Sieun stays there for a moment, watching you walk off with a look of complete disbelief in his eyes.

If the hallways had been loud, then the cafeteria was on a whole different level — it was complete and utter chaos. Voices bounced off the high ceilings, chairs scraped across the floor, trays clattered, and someone in the back was already yelling over a spilled drink. It was the usual lunchtime madness at Byuksan High School.

You and Suho had managed to snag one of the last empty tables, sitting across from each other with trays of lukewarm cafeteria food between you. Suho, as expected, had not stopped talking since you sat down — and worse, he hadn’t stopped teasing you either. For ten excruciating minutes, he’d been reenacting the hallway incident with far too much enthusiasm; flailing arms, dramatic sound effects, and talking with his mouth so full of rice that you had to look away to keep your appetite.

“Yah,” Suho said again, barely containing another round of laughter. He pointed his chopsticks across the table like they were weapons. “You demolished that poor guy. Like — full body slam. Out of nowhere. Just bam!”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you chewed on a mouthful of rice. You didn’t dignify the reenactment with a response — instead, you casually tapped Suho’s chopsticks aside with your own and shot him a look.

“Yah,” you mimicked dryly. “Eat your damn food before I glue your mouth shut.”

But Suho wasn’t fazed. In fact, he doubled over laughing, almost choking on a piece of kimchi in the process. Several nearby students glanced over, clearly wondering what was so funny. You, though thoroughly annoyed, couldn’t help the faint grin tugging at the corner of your lips. No matter how dumb Suho was being, his energy was infectious. You shook your head and exhaled, somewhere between amused and exasperated. This was just Suho — loud, ridiculous, and completely incapable of letting a moment pass without turning it into a joke. But still, you wouldn’t change a thing. As chaotic as he was, Suho had a way of making everything around him feel a little lighter.

Still, even as Suho went on ranting about how you might be charged with ‘attempted murder by shoulder-check’, your mind drifted. Back to the hallway. Back to him. Back to Sieun. The image returned in full detail; tousled hair, serious eyes, that slightly blank but piercing look — like he could see right through you without saying a single word. It had lasted seconds, maybe less, but it had stuck to you like gum on the bottom of a shoe. Inescapable.

“Yeon Sieun,” you murmured, almost to yourself, letting the name roll off your tongue like you were tasting it. “He was kinda cute.”

The words hung in the air for a second.

Suho froze. Literally froze — like someone had hit pause on him. His cheeks were still puffed out, his mouth full, eyes wide open. For a second, he just sat there, unmoving, staring at you with a look that hovered somewhere between shock and betrayal. If you had thrown a pencil at his head right then, he probably wouldn’t have even blinked. He looked like a hamster who had just witnessed a crime.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“What did you just say?” Suho demanded, leaning forward now, chopsticks clutched in one hand like he was ready to cross-examine you.

“That he was cute?” you repeated, nonchalant as ever.

“Yeah, that!” Suho jabbed his chopsticks through the air like he was pointing out a crime scene. “That.”

You just stared, visibly unfazed.

“What?” you asked again, head tilting slightly, your tone genuinely confused — as if Suho were the one acting weird, not you.

There was a beat of silence as the two of you just… stared. Suho was squinting now, chewing much more slowly, eyes narrowed like he was trying to read hidden subtext in your face. Meanwhile, you looked like a golden retriever trying to understand quantum physics — head cocked, eyebrows lifted slightly, lips pressed into a casual line. Then came the question, dropped in a flat tone, like it was both an accusation and a revelation.

“Wait… you’re into guys?”

“Yep,” you said without missing a beat, lifting a spoonful of rice to your mouth as if you were talking about the weather.

The sound that followed was a metallic clink — Suho had dropped his chopsticks straight onto his tray. He was now leaning over the table, mouth slightly open, eyes comically wide. He looked like someone had just revealed a long-lost twin or told him the cafeteria food was actually edible.

“Wait— seriously?!”

You looked up mid-chew and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I told you. Like… two years ago? Three?”

Suho’s eyes went wide. “No, you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did. You were half-asleep, and I said, ‘By the way, I think I like guys.’ You grunted and then asked me if I wanted your extra pudding cup.”

Suho squinted, trying to rewind the memory. Slowly, realization dawned.

“Wait. That… actually sounds like something that happened.” He looked betrayed by his own brain. “I thought you were joking!”

You chuckled, setting your spoon down. “Yeah, I figured you did. But I wasn’t. You just never brought it up again, so I assumed you got the memo.”

Suho leaned back, eyes still wide, but the shock was quickly melting into amusement. “Damn. And here I thought you were just a sad little loser who couldn’t get a girlfriend—”

Before Suho could launch into another overly dramatic reaction, you reached across the table and shoved a big bite of rice into his mouth using your chopsticks. Suho sputtered mid-protest, nearly choking on the unexpected ambush.

“Mmph— what the— mmphf!” he mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

“Chew,” you said, grinning as Suho glared at you with puffed cheeks like an angry squirrel.

You both burst out laughing after that — loud and unfiltered, the kind of laughter that made other students glance over, but neither of you cared. The conversation drifted into nonsense again : dumb jokes, petty arguments about food, and exaggerated gossip about your classmates. Nothing heavy. Nothing different. And yet, even as you polished off the last bites of your food and wiped your mouth with a crumpled napkin, your thoughts kept circling back to one place.

Or rather, to one person; Yeon Sieun.

No matter how loud Suho got or how silly your banter turned, you couldn’t shake the memory of those eyes — quiet, unreadable, and somehow still echoing inside your chest.

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note ∘ ∘ ∘ i hope you’ll enjoy this chapter! feel free to let me know what you think of the story and please don’t hesitate to reblog or leave a like — it really helps motivate me to keep writing! 🩶

taglist ∘ ∘ ∘ @suunani @naelvze @ecrvea @eijizwrld @dudekiss3r @ten0rikuma @nnryota @yeon103 @reiyaus @strawberrywith-chocolate2 @daichiwkmi @jaymiwrld @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @nightshadelover12 @edensparadisee @heeknow @mazettns @academiq @iluvkyo @cinnabells @carnalcrows @wingoodlilboymyway @marsredbrrr @energydrinkstastegood @aeilani @prettywhenicry4 @starrykie (let me know if you wanna be added!)

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babvc-au · 3 months ago

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Alrighty Folks! The Time Has Finally Come!

Hopefully this is everything and i didn't miss any panels or doodles for this post, but here is almost everything about BABVC's comic sketches, wips, doodles, refs, and even scripts i never finished, plus more! Doodles and other art stuff will be added to the end of this post. (Due to how many wips i have and such, there will be multiple reblogs happening as i go through this so bare with me.)

So, did you want to know how BaBvc would have went? Here's your answer. (This will contain a mix of the script, old comic wips and context)

Now, well jump to where we left off in the comic with a smol refresher.

Scene 6 Nightmare:

It's dark and bendy is in a black like void. He hears voices.

"Why? You had a chance!" OB growls.

"Who's there!?" Bendy shouts.

"Why did you resist?" OB

"What?"

Bendy's eyes are suddenly covered by cold clawed hands. And he tries to pry them off.

"Why!?" OB

"What are you talking about?! Who are you!" Bendy growls trying to fight them off.

"Don't keep me waiting much longer" we see the claws retract and three tails around Bendy.

"I'm sick of waiting"

The last shot is of Bendy's demon cross eye.

“But, how…?”

He hears a yawn from Boris as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “good morning, Bendy”

Boris blinks at Bendy’s hand and the bag, "You better not eat that so early in the morning, Bendy.” Boris scolded, ears pinned back.

“What? No, i wouldn't do that. But...” Bendy says, looking at the can thoughtfully. "Did you get some more after last night…?" He asked the tall wolf. Boris raised a brow at him, confused.

"What do you mean?" He asked. "That's the same bag from last night when we went to the market right?" He asked.

"Well yeah but, I lost it, remember?" Bendy said and looked up at his younger brother. Boris stares at him in confusion. "...You did?" He asked.

Camera focuses on the can in his hand.

Scene 8:

Bendy and Boris enter Berry cafe and take a seat at a booth.

"So you honestly don't remember?" Bendy starts looking across the table to his younger brother.

"I really don't. I only remember us getting the stuff, and then after that, it's all blurry. Like I blacked out or something, and then it was morning." Boris replied. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine you lost it? Maybe it was a dream that you had last night." He points out.

"..." Bendy thinks, "Maybe you're right. I've been having weird dreams, and I guess it's possible." He says tiredly. "Though it really felt like I wasn't dreaming." He mumbled to himself.

Then Melody comes around shortly after and asks them what they would like to order. "Hello, welcome to Berry's Cafe. What would you - oh! It's you two, the usual then?" She smiles and lifts her paper and pen.

Bendy lifts his head and gives a small smile. "Ah, yeah, for me, at least. Boris?" He looks over expectantly for his order.

"Oh! um, what's the special today?"

"New York cheesecake drizzled in strawberries and syrup, it's so good!" she smiles and hugs her notepad dreamily.

Boris perks at that smiling "Guess I know what I'm getting now, (haha) and can I get a hot coco with that, thanks Melody."

"No problem! I'll put your order in right away." She nods and walks away allowing Bendy to see the other residents in the cafe. And surprisingly enough he sees someone familiar. His eyes widened a little, shocked.

(Isn't that-?)

Bendy looks at his right wrist and rubs it lightly.

(So it hadn't been a dream? I should probably thank him.)

Bendy stood, making Boris look at him. "Bendy?"

"I'll be back."

Bendy walks away and heads for the familiar person.

"Uh, Hey." he says. Catching Cupheads attention who opens his eyes. He looks a little confused and shocked to see Bendy for a moment.

"I wanted to say thanks for the other night you really helped me back there." Bendy says looking to the side awkwardly.

Cuphead says nothing for a minute. His shock turns to annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever, watch yourself, you're lucky I found you when I did." Cuphead says with a steady look. "Didn't your mom teach you not to walk around at night by yourself?"

"It's dangerous." He glares, narrowing his eyes.

Bendy furrows his brows at the semi aggressive tone. "Hey, I came to thank you, not get a lecture! And I wasn't by myself."

"..."

"Anyway like I said, thank you, seriously." Bendy frowned.

Cuphead stands up and looks down at Bendy, who looks up at him in return nervously as they stare at each other.

"Here you go sir, your order." Tostie says, giving Cuphead two drinks.

"Thanks," he says.

She walks away.

"There you are, Cuppy!" A new voice sounds in the cafe besides Bendy.

Mugs comes over and stands by his brother's side. Who gives him an exhausted look.

"Here." Cuphead hands him the second drink.

"Oh! Were you in the middle of something?" Mugs looks between Bendy and Cuphead.

Cuphead gives Bendy another glare.

"No. Let's go." He walks off, but Mugs falters and gives Bendy a nervous smile and a wave before he follows.

"Geez, what a jerk." (At least the other guy was nice) Bendy sweats but shrugs it off heading back to Boris.

"Was that someone you knew?"

"Uh, not exactly," Bendy says as he slides back into the booth.

It's silent for a moment before Boris speaks up.

"Bendy, listen, I know you're just as confused as I am, but you haven't told me a single thing about what happened last night, I was really worried about you."

"I know, I promise to tell you when I've made sense of it, ok? Just… give me some time."

Boris sighs, "...Ok"

Bendy looks away and out the window covered in fog with a thoughtful look. It starts to snow a little.

Scene 9

Cuphead glares ahead. (The hell? Did I not wipe his memory correctly? And what's with that weird smell?) He rubs his nose.

Mugman watches him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cuphead mutters. “I just need to go to the casino… again.”

Mugman frowns. “Huh? Why?”

“I’ll tell you later—unless you wanna come with me.”

Mugman hesitates, then nods. “Mmm… I’ll go with you.” Cuphead glances at him, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he keeps walking.

(Que this scene where they report to The Devil about Bendy being immune to memory wiping)

"Sir, I've come to report something." [Kneeling]

"What is it?"

"There's someone i met that's immune to memory wiping."

"..."

"Is that so..."

(Thus, The Devil orders Cuphead to keep an eye on Bendy and to report back if anything happens.)

Scene 12

Cuphead (bat form) climbs through the crack of the window in the kitchen. He hops to the ground and transforms back into his toon form. He dusts himself off and then looks up. Unexpectedly Bendy was in the doorway and saw everything.

(Que a funny nervous Bendy stares and throws a mug at Cuphead.)

Bendy runs to his couch and starts his spiel.

"What are you doing in my house!? Are you going to kill me!? You're a vampire! Aren't you supposed to stay out of houses unless you're invited!? Or something!?

"Huh?"

"Wait a minute, vampires have other weaknesses! I think I have a few things!"

Bendy runs out of the room, and Cuphead is left in confusion.

"Okay...this is weird." -sigh-

Bendy comes in and out with various "vampire deterrents"

"Garlic!?"

"No"

"A cross!?"

"Nope"

"A stake!?" (It's a twig)

"Na-da"

"Sunlight!?" (Its a flashlight.)

"Did you forget you saw me at the café?"

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months ago

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sept 2024 4koma update

No updates for the usual manga adaptations! Only a 4koma update this month!

This time it features Cater (and his clones) playing basketball with the Basketball Club members. While playing, Cater also focuses on filming himself for Magicam.

During the course of the comic, we learn that the teachers would never allow for Cater to use his UM for class. However, Cater brings out a clone if there is an odd number of students per class and they need to partner up. (Usually it’s Idia, lol) The problem with this is that Cater doesn’t have the endurance to keep his clone around for the entire class, so it usually poofs halfway through.

Vargas cameos at the end to train them all even harder. Cater bails on Ace, Floyd, and Jamil, leaving them to their fates. Scummy of him, but very in-character 😂

This particular update made me realize how much continuity there is in the 4koma. For example:

Cater states that he and Idia are the same class. This is true; they are both in Class 3-B.

Floyd expresses annoyance and anger when Ace comments that he and Jade are the same because they are twins. This is something that Floyd has historically disliked, demonstrated in the Beans Day event as well as his own School Uniform vignette.

Cater is shown using his UM. When his clones vanish, he disappears in a cloud of playing cards. This was first depicted in the Episode of Heartslabyul manga and implies that this is how his UM works in all interpretations. One discrepancy, however, is that in the Episode of Heartslabyul manga, all the cards are diamond suits. In the 4koma, the suits are varied—you can see hearts, spades, and clubs in addition to diamonds. (A friend theorized that the Heartslabyul manga is pre-Riddle OB and the 4koma is post-Riddle OB; in that time, Cater has realized the value of friendship and so the suits represented on his cards changed. But that’s just a theory—a gaaaaame theory!)

Cater has used his UM in other physical activities to get the upper hand or to get the task done faster. For example, to paint the roses or to get running his laps done sooner.

With all this continuity going on, maybe we can take some of the lore drops in the 4koma as basically canon? 🤔 (Like how certain characters are in certain courses together!)

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ripplestitchskein · 1 year ago

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The most compelling thing about this whole relationship, and I’d argue the show in general, and what the episode highlighted so exquisitely is that they are perfect for each other, they honestly are exactly what the other one needs but their individuals issues are preventing them from seeing and actualizing it. It’s a delicious character driven conflict. There is no big bad keeping them apart. There is no ill intentioned person pulling the strings and putting things in their head to foster this miscommunication. It is solely their own traumas and issues fucking them over in the most relatable ways. What is brilliant about it is that the entire linchpin of this, and the overarching theme is that this is all a circus show, that the root of it is that both of them have been putting on these acts their whole lives and if they would both just STOP performing they would get what they need. The conflict now is one of them is trying to stop acting altogether while the other is scrambling to stay on book.

Blitzø needs someone who will appreciate him, build him up, encourage him, love him without condition, obligation or most importantly, as merely the consequence of putting on a good performance. Stolas does that from the beginning, he sees and admires Blitz as he is, his problem is actually rooted in the act Blitz puts on. Even Blitz’s closest friends and family, and Blitz himself, can’t or won’t allow Blitz to stop the performance though.

Millie, Moxxie, and Loona all love him, but even they went into this episode putting pressure on Blitzø to perform even going so far as to follow him so he wouldn’t fuck it up. The sex toy shopping spree was just gathering props in service to that performance, to this show they are encouraging him not to bomb.

Fizz, who recently learned the lesson Blitzø needs to learn, who stopped performing for the benefit of others, is probably the only one approaching it from a “What kind of stuff do you guys actually like?” perspective, but because Blitzø is so focused on doing a good job he really doesn’t consider what he actually wants, he’s buying things he thinks will support the show. Lighting, costumes, props. Even the Stolas Sex Stuff box is basically just a prop comic box.

He needs to get his act just right and put on the best show he can so they can keep the book and to allow the show to go on.

But like his performances in the past, Blitz chokes. For the entire scene in the bedroom he is basically saying “Let me run that again, I’ll get the lines right this time!” And the reason it is so heartbreaking is that what Stolas wants, is just him, not the facade of a clown doing his best bits, just the person behind it. We see in The Circus Blitz has been told his whole life that not only does he need to keep putting on that show but that if he doesn’t he’s worthless. There’s always a better act waiting to take your spotlight, you can be bought and sold on a whim.

The Circus and its parallels in The Full Moon perfectly encapsulate this issue. He kept doing the same thing over and over, trying to make that balloon horse and it’s when he improvs and is himself that someone appreciates him, laughs with him and sees the value of him as Blitz not the clown, but because its not the audience as a whole it’s not worth anything and that’s when someone else swoops in to wow the crowd. We see this over and over in the show: he keeps trying the same schtick and when he flops he just gets more and more desperate to get his self assigned role right.

In Stolas’s case he was actually really good at his act when he followed the scripts he was given. Everyone around him seems shocked by his recent behavior, they really bought the happy family, regal prince play he’s been putting on all this time. Blitz comes back into his life and gives him a new script. In The Circus Stolas is himself at first, showing off his books and enthusiasm for knowledge but his audience isn’t responsive so he switches “What do you want to do? Give me the script for how you want me to act.” From when he first wakes up bouncing with enthusiasm and told “Stop being yourself, act like a Prince” he calms himself and tries to be what he’s supposed do be and he keeps doing that until Full Moon.

While Stolas enjoys their game and his new playmate he is pretty much putting on an act the entire time, looking to Blitz for cues over and over until they are under the tree. In this scene both Stolas and Blitzø are, in my opinion, both completely genuine and without artifice. Blitz expresses what he really wants, and Stolas is delighted and supportive of it, admiring him and expresses that he hopes he’ll do a good job with his grimoire and when Blitz says he’ll maybe hire him, Stolas is delighted but expresses that he hopes he’ll “qualify”. This shatters my heart into pieces, because even here while Blitz is dreaming his big dreams of being a boss Stolas is still “I hope I can learn how to do a good job with the role I’ve been given. I hope I can be what you want me to be.”

When they meet again 25 years later he looks to Blitz for the script again and fulfills the role Blitz more or less implies he wants to the best of his ability, if not over the top and over dramatized as it’s a new role for him. It still doesn’t fit quite right though. He’s still acting.

In The Full Moon Stolas is still following a script but one he’s at least written himself this time, no doubt influenced a bit by his romance novels and telenovellas. When Blitz approaches him and tries to seduce him again he flushes and wavers to go back to the character Blitz assigned him but he has a new script now and he gets back on task. He has a whole performance he is sticking to. He presents the crystal and has a little animation to explain it and everything.

But then we come to the moment when he isn’t acting anymore, when he genuinely tells Blitz this is how I feel, this is what I want, this is who I am. He even takes off his hat, you can hardly see his royal outfit, just his earnest face as he waits for the reaction of presenting himself as just Stolas saying what he wants and not Stolas the performer saying what everyone wants to hear.

Blitz is too caught up in trying to get them back on script, to keep up the show. He tries desperately to stick to the act, which Stolas is trying to break free from. This unfortunately confirms what Stolas suspected. It was always a play, it was always just a performance, like Stella and the other Ars Goetia, Stolas is only valuable if he says his lines right. Even his daughter lashes out when he starts breaking character. Those around him only value him if he is acting to type, he is not enough as just Stolas.

The horrible irony is he truly was awakened by Blitz. Hs stops acting because of him. He learns that he wants to be himself and not a scripted version designed to please others, but sadly it is Blitz, the catalyst for all of it, who is still stuck in performance mode. Stolas realizes because of Blitz something real, but during their conversation is shown that even Blitz just wants him to stay in character, that there is nothing real here, just more lines for him to say. So Stolas exits pursued by imp.

A lot of Blitz’s fury in this scene is because Stolas is not fulfilling his role any more. In this way he is no different than Stella or even Octavia. He is angry when Stolas stops saying his lines. He has gone off script. But where Stella is upset because it ruins her image, and Octavia is upset because it upset the fakery of her perfect family, Blitz is instead panicking because he NEEDS to get this performance just right. When he fails bad things happen, he is replaced, he is unloved, he is sold off, he is forced to do things he doesn’t want to do.

So he lashes out, he tries to FORCE Stolas back into the role he assigned him, to incite a confrontation from the character of pompous royal asshole stepping on the lower class and using them for their own gain instead of just a person earnestly trying to be genuine. Why is Stolas not saying his lines? Why isn’t he fulfilling his role? So he tells him what he is supposed to be. He yells at him to get back into character.

Stolas is devastated to realize the trope he’s been fulfilling in Blitzo’s life, he’s not the romantic love interest but rather the villain of the piece. He doesn’t even want to be in this show anymore, he wants to just be Stolas, and he is absolutely destroyed to learn that rather than just being himself, rather than even being the love interest, he is instead the antagonist in Blitz’s play. But he doesn’t want that role, or probably any role, any longer, he’s finally breaking out of these performances and being himself, so instead of reverting to type, Stolas sends Blitz off stage completely.

In this way it’s really beautiful for Stolas’s character growth, he could have just given in, stepped back on stage. He has so many opportunities to pick up these old characters he’s played, but instead Stolas follows through and just shuts the show down completely.

#stolitz #helluva boss #helluva boss the full moon

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