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aspoonofsugar · 2 years ago

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I have to be frank it black sun makes way more sense as the beauty and best played straight ( blacksun got years of teasing mutual attraction and development ( from v1 to blacksun goodbye scene inv6 which had romantic this isnt the end connotations ) with sun going out of his way to help blake like beauty did for the beast and sun had done more for blakes arc then yang ) while bb got nothing for a romantic relationship nothing hinted at them being more then friends till arguably v7 ( the last 2 eps of v6 at best none of the blake and yang moments there were inherently romantic so it reeks of direction change either the change was made after v6 or during the writing of v6 last eps due to bbs popularity )

Hello anon!

I have to be frank, as well... I disagree completely :)

At the same time, though, I think your feelings and reasoning is understandable and valid. I'll tell you more, you are actually right in saying Blake and Sun are another example of Beauty and the Beast :P

I'll explain my reasoning immediately, but before that, let me say I have already talked about Blake's arc, Yang's arc, Black Sun, Bumbleby and ships in RWBY. You find all the asks and metas, if you click on the links. In any case, I'll be taking parts of these posts to answer you.

Now, let's start...

BLAKE'S ARC AND THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ALLUSION

Blake's arc and development can be summarized with this quote:

Blake: When you've been at someone's side for so long, after a while they become a part of you. But that's just it, they're only a part of you. Don't forget about the rest.

At the beginning of the series, Blake has been at Adam's side for so long her whole self has become his. This is the essence of their abusive relationship. Blake is initially presented as a shadow, both because she is a Faunus and because she is Adam's shadow. She follows him around, she obeys his orders and has been poisoned by Adam's White Feng propaganda. In order to follow Adam, she has cut all her other positive relationships, like the ones with her parents. This is why the moment she leaves Adam in the Black Trailer, she finds herself alone.

This dependence is made clear also through Blake's Beauty and the Beast allusion. Adam is initially:

Blake's Beast romantically

Blake's Beast when it comes to the Human/Faunus conflict > specifically, he and Blake are both beasts that fight against society for freedom

Blake's cursed Rose who is poisoning her life

In short, Adam is Blake's everything. This is why Blake's growth and salvation does not really lie in her finding Adam's substitude. The point is not that she is in a bad relationship, but then she finds a shiny new love interest and everything is alright. The point is that the relationship with Adam has grown so dangerous and abusive specifically because it has isolated Blake from others. So, Blake's recovery lies in her finding a huge support system made of different Beauties, Beasts and Roses ready to help her.

This starts with her team:

Ruby is Blake's new Rose. She resembles Blake's younger self and makes Blake believe into idealism once again. She is also the one who leads Yang and Blake to meet.

Yang is Blake's new Beauty/Beast when it comes to her romantic subplot. She becomes Blake's partner and ultimate love interest

Weiss is Blake's new Beauty/Beast when it comes to the Funus/Humans subplot. Their parallel journeys mirror the evolving balance of the world and I would not be surprised if by the end they share a moment where they fight side by side in something Faunus related.

In short, all Blake's subplots and sides that are initially focused on Adam get separated and she finds a different relationship for each.

This doesn't stop with her team of course! Throughout the Mistral Arc she finds 2 other Beauties and Beasts that play a key role in her development.

They are:

Ilia: she is the Beast the Beauty redeems and the Beauty who lost herself in the shadows, like Blake is initially.

Sun: he is the Beauty that helps the Beast and at the same time he is the Beast who lets go of the Beauty:

Blake: I have to admit, I think I was kind of getting used to having you around. Sun: I go where I'm needed! And… you don't need me anymore. Blake: Well, when you say it like that, it sounds sad. Sun: Look… despite the drama and the fighting and the numerous attempts on my life, I had a lot of fun! But you're with who you're supposed to be now.

Neptune: I don't know, man. It just feels like you're letting her go. Sun: It was never about that, brainiac.

It is funny to me that you consider Sun and Blake's goodbye as foreshadowing of their romance because it clearly isn't. If anything, the message is the opposite: Sun is giving up on Blake. He has initially followed her out of genuine care and romantic interest. However, by the end of their adventure he realizes Blake is already where she needs to be... aka her team and Yang:

Sun: You think you're being selfless, but you're not. Yeah, that chameleon friend of yours got me pretty good. But I'd do it all again if it meant protecting you. And I can promise Yang would say the same.

Notice how he juxtaposes himself to Yang and Ilia to Adam in this scene... this is not by chance...

This development in itself is rather meaningful in Blake's story. It ties with the deconstruction of toxic masculinty tropes her arc is about. Sun is a friend, who has been there for Blake when she needed him. This doesn't make him entitled to her, though. His selflessly helping her without the final "getting the girl" represents this.

Back to Blake's arc and allusion. A sure way to easily find Blake's numerous beauties and beasts is to use her shadow/light motif. Blake's name means both white and black, which is mirrored in her color scheme. This also means she is both light (beauty) and shadow (beast). This is also why she is linked to the twilight:

You can find this motif with all Blake's Beauty and Beasts. She is the white and black to Adam's red and black. This means they are both shadows (so no complementarity) and that Adam has tainted Blake's white (the light) with red (the blood) (see the White Feng symbol turning from white to red). At the same time, she is the black to Weiss's white and the shadow to Yang's light.

Ilia and Sun's symbolism is instead made clear in Blake'svolume 5 character short, where she keeps moving between day (Sun)

And night (Ilia)

Ilia and Sun are Blake's shadow and light in the Mistral Arc and their help is necessary for her to grow and face an even darker shadow together with an even brighter light:

In short, it is not only about Blake and Adam and Blake and Yang/Sun, but rather it is about Blake and her huge support system that is presented to us through the lens of her fairy tale.

In the post you are referencing, I specifically talk of Blake/Adam as an inversed Beauty and the Beast and as Blake/Yang as a straight version because I was thinking about it structurally.

What is Beauty and the Beast structure in a nutshell? It goes like this.

The Beauty's Father gives her a rose from the Beast's garden. The Beauty leaves the Father to live with the Beast. After a while, Beauty and Beast grow closer, but at one point Beauty asks to leave to visit her Father. The Beast says yes, but gives her a time limit. If Beauty doesn't come back before that the Beast is gonna die. The Beauty overstays at her Father's, but then rushes back to the Beast when she realizes she loves him. She finds the Beast dying, but her love restores his Prince-like form and they live happily ever after.

This structure fits Adam and Yang. Not Sun.

Blake meets Adam through her father's organization. He appears as a beautiful rose, but in reality he is a beast. Blake leaves Ghira to stay with Adam. However, after a while, their relationship becomes abusive and Blake leaves Adam. This hurts him and he grows obsessive and crueller. As a step in her healing process Blake goes back to Ghira until she grows strong enough to face Adam. Obviously not to rejoin and heal him, but to fight him off.

Blake leaves Ghira and loses herself. After a while she finds a precious rose (Ruby) and meets Yang. After they spend time together in the same team, Blake leaves and goes back to Ghira. This hurts Yang deeply. However, differently from Adam, Yang is able to grow and to welcome Blake back once she returns.

Blake never leaves nor hurts Sun, so there is really nothing to forgive here and there is no need for the Beauty and Beast's reconciliation, which is key in Blake's fairy tale. You could argue Sun leaving Blake in volume 6 is the Beauty leaving the Beast. Still, Blake doesn't suffer for this and Sun leaving has really no consequences for her.

Similarly, both Adam and Yang have a rose, which links them to Blake. Sun instead completely lacks the rose symbolism. Another hint he is not the main Beauty/Beast to Blake's story, even if he is clearly important.

Now, I don't care if you think Blake's story is well written or not. What is important is that you realize this is what we canonically have in-story. This is clearly the reading the authors want us to go at. Now, let's see if you are right about Bumbleby being shoved into the story in volume 7.

BUMBLEBY'S FORESHADOWING

Black the beast descends from shadows. Yellow beauty burns gold.

This is the very first time Blake and Yang are mentioned and they are literally called Beauty and Beast. Now, I know there is a huge discourse about this line and some people say it is bullshit. Some others instead argue that Blake and Yang were meant as a platonic version of Beauty and the Beast, while Sun and Blake were meant to be romantic.

Even dismissing Red Like Roses, though, volume 2 and 3 still clealry code Blake and Yang romantically.

Yang and not Sun is the one who convinces Blake to go to the party:

Yang: And if you feel like coming out tomorrow, I'll save you a dance.

So, symbolically she is the one who brings Blake to the dance:

Sun: Sooo, does this mean we're going… together? Blake: Technically, though my first dance is spoken for.

Notice that Blake and Yang wear complementary outfits (black and white, yin and yang), while Black Sun have both black clothes.

Not only that, though:

Blake: I had someone very dear to me change. It wasn't in an instant, it was gradual - little choices that began to pile up. He told me not to worry. At first they were accidents, then it was self-defense. Before long, even I began to think he was right. This is all just… very familiar. But you're not him. And you've never done anything like this before. So… I want to trust you. I will trust you. But first, I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me that he attacked you. I need you to promise me that you regret having to do what you did.

Adam: And as I set out upon this world and deliver the justice mankind so greatly deserves, I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love. Yang: Blake! Where are you!? Adam: Starting with her.

Yang is directly compared to Adam aka Blake's previous partner and lover and she is Adam's target the moment he is trying to hurt Blake. Like, crazy ex-boyfriend targets new love interest is a recurring trope. Not to count Yang losing her arm is juxtaposed to Pyrrha screaming Jaune's name while he is being attacked by Cinder. Arkos is clearly romantic and the 2 scenes happening frame beside frame is a way to equate the 2 relationships.

Just to be clear, Yang losing her arm to Adam is something decided since the very beginning:

Scathing eyes ask that we be symmetrical, one sided and easily processed. Yet every misshapen spark's unseen beauty is greater than its would be judgement.

The Yellow Trailer's quote foreshadows this event and it was confirmed by Yang's voice actress. If Yang losing her arm to Adam is something planned early on, I don't see why Yang and Blake fighting Adam together shouldn't be. It is a very rational development that lets 2 of the main girls overcome their respective trauma.

Before we explore Bumbleby's fight against Adam, though, let's focus for a moment on some songs. Bumblb and All That Matters were released respectively with volume 4 and with volume 5 and they are both Bumbleby's songs. You could argue Bumblebee is not "canon" because it was a later addition. Still, All That Matters is canonically a song about Yang's feelings over Blake leaving and it is clearly romantic. It also plays in key moments like Blake and Yang meeting again and the group hearing about Blake and Yang's fight against Adam. Both times, the one who starts the theme song is Ruby:

Blake: Well… I'm not going anywhere. Ruby: That's all that matters. That we're all here together. Right? Yang: Yeah.

Blake: I'm so sorry… Yang: Don't be. This isn't on you. Blake: But-- Ruby: You're safe, that's all that matters

Again, very clear symbolism, Ruby is the rose that brings the Beauty and the Beast together.

Now, let's explore Bumbleby's fight against Adam. Throughout the fight Yang and Blake's bond is clearly coded as romantic. There is literally no ambiguity here. For starters, Adam is 1000% jealous of Yang and Blake. This is an actual line he spits:

Adam: What does she (Blake) even see in you (Yang)?!!

The implication is that Blake is now in love with Yang and Adam is jealous and doesn't understand why her ex-girlfriend would choose Yang over him. There is no other interpretation possible. Sure, you may argue that in real life a jealous bitch thinking 2 people love each other is no proof this is actually the case (in many cases they may very well be wrong). However, this is no real life, but a story, which means lines like this and in such a context are as clear as day... they are framing Yang as Blake's love interest.

Thematically, the whole fight frames Blake and Yang's relationship in juxtaposition with Adam and Blake. Adam was abusive and a liar, who kept hiding things from Blake. Yang instead wears her heart on her sleeve and has had no hesitation to race to Blake's side, when she was in danger. Similarly, both Adam and Yang were left by Blake and were both hurt by this. However, Adam has kept obsessing over Blake and decided to stalk her and to hurt her. He is given the chance to let go, but doesn't. Yang instead works to empathize with Blake's decision and tries to understand her point of view. When Blake comes back, Yang forgives her and is ready to stand beside her once more.

This is ultimately why Yang wins her 1v1 against Adam. Adam is blinded by jealousy and rage to the point he loses sight of Blake. For all his obsession over her, he is quick to forget her existence during the fight. Yang instead never loses sight of Blake and fights to block Adam's vision of her, waits the right moment and then uses Adam's sword to bait him to where Blake is. In this way she and Blake can finish the fight. This is the thematic meaning of the fight. Yang sees Blake for who she is, while Adam only sees himself.

The scene itself is full of symbolism related to both Beauty and the Beast and Goldilocks aka Blake and Yang's fairy tale.

On the one hand Blake spells out the just right:

Blake: She's not protecting me, Adam. And I'm not protecting her. We're protecting each other.

In other words, Blake herself is Yang's just right.

On the other hand Yang and Blake allude to the Beauty and the Beast together thanks to the song Nevermore. Nevermore alludes to Evermore, which is a song in the 2017 remake of The Beauty and the Beast. By the way, the remake came out in March 2017, while volume 6 came out in October 2018... so they were rather close by.

Speaking of symbolism, there is more actually... The episode where Yang and Blake defeat Adam is called Seeing Red, which is apparently the title of an episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer where 2 queer characters die (can you confirm @hamliet?). RWBY plays with this and makes its episode and inversion with Blake and Yang killing Adam. Finally, there is the very unsubtle motorcycle symbolism...

Bumblebee smashes Adam in the face and then sails toward new adventures in the river... again... the meaning is really not subtle...it means that Bumbleby as a ship is sailing.

In short, by volume 6 we have... 1 romantically coded dance, Bumbleby being compared to Arkos, Yang being compared to an ex love interest, said ex love interest targeting Yang twice out of jealousy, 3 love songs, heavy handed Beauty and the Beast and Goldilocks symbolism and other generic unsubtle symbolism...

Other than this, we have 2 perfectly structured paralell arcs that are so since the Black and the Yellow Trailers. Each girl has to go through opposite development and grow on her own with the help of family and friends. Only in this way they are able to meet each other again and to accept each other to defeat a common enemy together...

As you can see, there is actually a lot and to tell you the truth...Blake and Yang's journey throughout volume 4 - 5 - 6 is where their bond is really developed and tested. They are set up as each other's objective throughout the Mistral arc, they go through a conflict and solve it. This is how you make a bond important narratively, not through jokes or 2 characters being cute together, but through conflict. I am saying this because it is true that volumes 7 and 8 have gone out of their way with the Bumbleby cute stuff, so that everyone has realized they are meant to end up together. However, these volumes have really not been as important as the Mistral arc for their relationship. They are shown to be closer as a result of them defeating Adam. However, they have not really received that much focus compared to Mistral and that is alright... it is not every character must receive the same amount of focus in each arc.

In short, the meat of Bumbleby is Mistral and not Atlas. As a result, the idea this relationship has been invented in Atlas is false for the simple reason all its development is before they even reach the Kingdom.

BLACK SUN WAS TOTALLY THERE... AND THIS WAS A MISTAKE

Ok, now let's talk about Black Sun. I 100% agree with you that the ship was there and it was being built on romantically... which is honestly the whole problem.

As shown above, it is not that Black Sun was romantic and Bumbleby was not. They were both romantically - coded. As for why, there can be 3 explanations:

They were not sure they could make Bumbleby canon, so they were ready to use Sun as a spare (I honestly think this is partly true).

They wanted to have Sun be Blake's unrequired love interest, so that he can add a piece to the deconstruction of toxic masculinity (what they end up doing)

They wanted to show Black Sun as a Teen Immature love and Bumbleby as end game (probably a thing they wanted to accomplish, but were too ambitious with)

This last one may have very well been the idea here. After all, the Beacon Arc focuses on such immature loves and Black Sun happens at the exact same time Weiss develops her crush on Neptune. Now, I think we can all agree Weiss isn't ending up with Neptune... However, Black Sun has way more focus and is way more important than Neptune and Weiss's thing. Let's briefly summarize Black Sun teasing.

Sun starts flirting with Blake the moment he sees her, Blake goes to the dance with him and blushes at him during the Vytal Festival while a love song is playing:

After this, we have Blake and Sun’s interactions in volume 4 and 5. There it is made clear as day Sun has still feelings for Blake. Moreover, their interactions are full of jokes/tropes usually found in slap-stick comedies...(btw this is also why the discourse about Blake “being abusive” for slapping Sun or Sun “being creepy” for stalking Blake is missing the context imo). Like, meeting the parents with the mother teasing the relationship and the father disliking the partner is a romantic trope. There is also Blake and Sun's whole conversation about words where Blake tells Sun about what her loved ones represent to her. She talks of Sun as "earnest", but adds she has yet to properly decide, which obviously led many shippers to read it as foreshadowing.

At the same time... this is really all tbh... there is a lot of teasing and Sun is super important for Blake's arc because he fits the role of the Helper... However, he is not set up as some kind of objective, Blake does not really show any kind of romantic interest for him in volume 4 and 5 and she even talks of her teammates as the people she loves the most in the world:

Blake: Shut up! Do you think I like being alone? Every day… every day I think about them! Ruby, Weiss, Yang… they were my friends! I loved them like I never thought I could love anybody. And I hope they hate me for leaving.

Finally, Sun is never compared to Adam and the antagonist he helps Blake defeat is rather Ilia, who is another romantic interest, but of the unrequired love type.

Speaking of unrequired love... it is true Black Sun has 2 love songs, (Not Fall in Love with You and Like Morning Follows Night) but the theme for both is unrequired love:

See, you'll never understand What I feel, what I see (…) Trying to search for this happiness Lost in the lights But it seems that it's all Just out of my sight Just out of my reach, Can't seem to get it right Like I'm cursed with this turbulence (…) Yet I still believe in you Every breath, every word Every smile, every glance Could be another chance That you'll finally see The love that is me

Girl of my dreams you would make my life complete But you're a distant dream to me Then I know and I know that you're-- Out of my league How could it ever be? What am I supposed to do- Just sit here and not fall in love with you?

The implication is that Sun likes Blake and that he is running after her, hoping she will notice him. This seems to confirm the unrequired love reading...

However, the point is that all in all... Black Sun is a mess. It is romantically coded, but thematically, structurally and symbolically it is not as deep as Bumbleby. Moreover, it can't really decide if it wants to be a teen first love or an unrequired love and it is ultimately never addressed. Sun simply gives up on Blake after having helped her and leaves.

As you can see, I am really not happy with this resolution myself and even if it is true Sun is definately coming back in Vacuo... I am also not that sure he is gonna be that important or that his relationship with Blake has to or needs to find a closure by this point. After all, it is clear Bumbleby is endgame, so a love triangle would really add nothing to it.

There is also another problem with Sun himself, that ultimately makes him a less interesting romantic interest for Blake than Yang... so far he lacks an arc of his own... you insist he has been more important than Yang in Blake's arc because he has helped her a ton, right? However, what about Sun's own arc?

A romantic relationship should drive both partners to grow, so that they can end up together despite conflict. The conflict can be either external or internal. Bumbleby has both kinds of conflicts. On the one hand Blake and Yang trigger each other. On the other hand Adam gets in the way of their bond. This means they both have to grow as people (internal) and defeat Adam (external).

Black Sun lacks this on Sun's side... sure you may say the conflict arises on Blake's side... she is scared to open up to people and there is the whole White Feng Sun must help Blake to fight... However, this makes for a very one-sided relationship with one character way more complex and rounded than the other... All in all, it is a kind of dynamic that has its limits for the story.

Mind you, the writers actually wanna us to think that Sun has changed thanks to Blake. In Before the Dawn we have this:

Sun didn’t rise to Scarlet’s bait, which was pretty strange. But it also wasn’t his style to devote himself to a cause like this. He usually went wherever his whims took him, whether that was across the sea to help a friend or to get noodles at three in the morning. To pledge to fight a big cause with no clear solution or end in sight? That really didn’t sound like Sun. Maybe his time with Blake in Menagerie had changed him.

However, this is an example of telling and not showing... really in the series this never comes up nor it is ever explored. It does not contradict the story. It actually makes sense when considering what little we know of Sun and if we reread some interactions with Blake using this interpretative key. However, it is surely not one of the main topic explored in Blake and Sun’s relationship, while I think it could have been great if it were. Ironically, though, I think Blake and Sun's romantic teasing actually goes in the way of said explorations.

Volumes 4 and 5 are full of slap stick comedy jokes and romantic teasing and so anchored on Blake's own arc with Ilia and the White Feng, that Sun has very little time to have an arc of his own... Basically, all the space that could have been used to explore him is given to Blake and her own struggles... Sun is adorable and the best person ever to have around... but this is actually it... he does not change, nor is he particularly challenged by the events around him.

In the end, his struggles with his teammates and his flaws have been explored in the novel rather than in the series itself. Sure, he might have an arc in Vacuo, but given there are tons of characters that need development and a part of his problems have been dealt with in Vacuo, I am not sure he is gonna be super focused on... we'll see. One thing is for sure... if he were meant to be Blake's final partner these sides of him should have been focused on while they were together... however, they were not because ultimately his bond and dynamic with Blake is never symmetrical... he fits the role of the helper in her arc and that is more or less it...

CONCLUSION

I actually think you have all rights to be annoyed by how Black Sun has been solved, but I honestly think you have got the wrong target... the problem isn't Bumbleby whose whole story is clearly set up and rather well structured, but Black Sun itself, which could not really decide what it wanted to be... Hopefully, I am wrong and Sun and Blake's screentime in Vacuo will give us a resolution and make some choices clear, but as for now, I doubt it.

Finally... I am kind of meh to the whole idea... "THERE WAS DIRECTOR CHANGE DUE TO BB POPULARITY!"... I mean... RWBY has had so far no problem killing off Pyrrha and Penny... 2 very popular characters in popular ships... if they were going for... "Let's give the people the ships they want!"... I can assure you they would not have killed off those 2.

And that is all... thank you for passing by and have a nice day!

#rwby #asksfullofsugar #bumbleby #black sun #anonymous

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gorgxoxus · 5 months ago

Text

My Wishlist for Bridgerton season 3 Part Two: (and did it come true)?

Spoilers ahead for the book/ whatever we’ve been fed by Netflix/ Shondaland:

In no particular order:

1. Pen and Eloise conversations/ makeup including all the stuff to do with Cressida pretending to be Lady Whistledown/ trying to get the bounty money. Eloise talking to Colin when he knows Pen is LW, and helping them come back to each other. Pen and Eloise hug (that will emotionally destroy me if it happens).

This was exactly right!!

2. A conversation or two between Pen and the Queen. Maybe even a Pen/ Colin asking Queen Charlotte for a quick marriage license that leads to some sort of LW conversation after Colin knows. Queen Charlotte giving Pen the choice to continue as LW, before any announcement to the ton.

Pen wrote a letter to The Queen telling her it was her and asked for an opportunity to speak. The Queen after hearing it, lets her continue!!!!! It was better than I predicted!

3. More Featherington sister and mother chaos/ comedy. The back half of the season will be stressful so I want them to break it up with whatever fun things they say/ get up to.

They had less scenes than I wanted them to! But Prudence getting upset about the attention on Pen actually broke my heart a little. Their ball that Pen bankrolled was amazing!

4. Colin’s love confession ‘I love you for our future and our past, the children we will have etc’

WE DIDNT GET THAT 😭. But the mirror scene, the multiple I love yous, and the speech at the end were amazing.

5. Mama Bridgerton getting courted and gardened. And whatever drama that will bring between Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton.

It was amazing to see her courted, I hope it continues. And Violet and Agatha had some of the nicest conversations in the whole season I loved it.

6. Will being able to keep his club

Unfortunately not

7. This is not a wish but a thought ‘is Pen going to stop because she’s engaged and that’s when the bounty goes out because she’s stopped writing for a few weeks or longer’?

The Queen is too petty, but she does stop for a bit because she is engaged.

8. When Pen and Colin have their fight when Colin finds out she’s LW, Pen grabs Colin for the kiss and we get gender swapped iconic Jess kiss. A second steamier carriage scene.

It was more of a classic kiss where they both go in, and its later. Also poor Pen asking where Colin is going, I believe he was out for a walk because in the book he loves them.

9. I know it may end with pregnancy at the end of season 3 because of the heir situation but ending the season with Pen and Colin going travelling

Just babies (the heir no less) but it was a pretty perfect ending.

10. Cressida finding out Pen is LW and confronting her. It’s such a good scene in the book. And Pen having to tell Colin about it and Colin being pissed because ‘it was bound to happen after you put out the pamphlet saying it wasn’t her after she confessed to be LW’

YES THIS WAS EVERYTHING.

11. Hyacinth saying something iconic about LW because she had some cracking lines in the book about her.

Nope, but she had some cracking lines about Gregory.

12. Colin being stressed about Pen writing letters.

This didn't go anywhere, why was it said?

13. So many frank discussions between Pen and Colin because I trust Shondaland to deliver emotional, long, beautiful discussions between the main characters. And even between Pen and Eloise.

Colin and Pen had less conversation than I expected, but Pen gave it good to Colin when he was angry about Whistledown. I loved her speeches about what she wrote, her power she gets from it and that she stood on her two feet and said she wanted to continue. Pen and Eloise had amazing conversations, they are both powerful and smart women.

14. Colin declaring his love and intentions and care for Penelope to Lady Featherington.

YES! GREAT SCENE!! NO NOTES.

15. Colin delicately getting Pen down from the carriage at the start of episode 5 because I hate that she fell in the book because he was so fast and aggressive at getting her down. Colin and Pens discussion as they walk towards Bridgerton house where Pen is like wtf and says something about accepting the proposal. And when the get to Pen and Colin’s new house, a proper kneeled proposal with the ring.

We didnt see her get out of the carriage, but I'm taking it as show canon that she didnt fall. There is no discussion and Pen looks so stressed. The ring scene happens at Featherington house and is not kneeled, but is so cute.

16. Pen and Colin in Colin’s room or Pen’s room

NO! but that's ok.

17. Francesca’s wedding and introduction to Micheal.

YES!! MICAELA STERLING I DIED! IT WAS PERFECT. NO NOTES. SO EXCITED FOR WHATS TO COME THERE.

18. Something queer happening with Eloise and Cressida and a continue of their friendship despite all the bounty storyline’s and how messy that will become. Cressida and Lord Debling?

I didn't like the route they took Cressida, I hope we see her again. You can have Peneloise and Creloise, i'm sure of it.

19. A conversation between Lord Debling and Penelope (I think I’ve seen a spoiler that this is happening) where he congratulates her on getting what she always wanted. Imagine if things didn’t happen between Colin and Pen the carriage and Debling pulled out of the proposal. That would’ve been so scandalous for Penelope and the Featheringtons if she didn’t get a proposal at all.

Lord Debling dipped!

20. Masquerade ball in episode 8 and introduction to Sophie.

There was a mention of the Masquerade ball to come!

21. LW continues, and ideally I don’t want a ton announcement at the ball by Colin like in the book? But we’ll see. Something in the epilogue that tells the audience about the future of LW.

YOURS TRULY, PENELOPE BRIDGERTON. IS NICOLA/ PEN GOING TO NARRATE THE STORY NOW?!!! Also, I love that she ended her letters to Colin Yours Truly, Penelope that is so cute.

22. Colin’s journals, Pen reading more of Colin’s journey, the beginning of writer Colin and published Colin?

No scenes of her reading the journals in part two (she did mention it once or twice), but we did start to see writer Colin and published Colin.

So much shit is going to go down!! I’m so excited.

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #I was pretty close with my wishes/ predictions omg #but there was still some shocking moments that had me falling out of my chair

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picnokinesis · 1 year ago

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Ahhhhh Yazs last chapter! I loved it and was surprised how easily the Doctor came out to her about being genderqueer and her pronouns, because I expected her to be a bit dodgy about the subject, maybe the conversation with Jack helped her a lot. I kinda hoped that she would tell Yaz about her former name, John, but baby steps LOL. AND RIVER YEEESSSSS. I didnt know that she visited her, I can imagine that River wasnt exactly happy to see her but it is cute that she gave her that mixtape awwww

Ahhh thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!

You know, it's quite funny with the Doctor, but honestly I think that there are so many other things on her mind at the moment, so many things that she is actively avoiding talking about, that talking about her gender and sexuality is relatively easy territory HAHA! But also I think it has a LOT to do with the context of the conversation. For a start, Yaz came out first, and in my personal experience (which a lot of that conversation was inspired by honestly haha) it is SIGNIFICANTLY easier to come out to someone who has also just come out to you, because it suddenly becomes less of a terrifying thing and much more a 'oh my days we're family' thing, which is really lovely. And you can be a lot more frank about it too, and more open about the complexity of the whole thing, because this is another queer person who will most likely get where you're coming from in a way that a cis straight person probably wouldn't so much.....so I think, for the Doctor, that has a lot to do with it. But I also think Yaz really went about it the right way too, which helped a lot - she didn't try and put any names on what the Doctor experienced, and just left it open for her to say what she wanted. And this helped the Doctor a lot, because she honestly doesn't know in some ways, and in others it's ended up being a bit complicated. But you'll see all of that in a lot more detail from the Doctor's side when you get her pov of that scene!

You are right, though, in that there are definitely times when the Doctor would have been more cagey about this sort of thing - and I think that would have been if she'd felt like she needed to give a clear cut answer, or felt like she was being pressured to explain it all more than she feels comfortable with. There is a lot that she doesn't say to Yaz. There is a lot that she doesn't say in general, actually, which is partly why her section is significantly longer than anyone else's haha (as well as the fact that she sleeps less than everyone else sksk)

About the name John, though - well, unfortunately, at this stage in the story, she will definitely not talk to ANYONE about that, and it's because it's all entangled in the past she can't really remember. It's a direct thread pulling back on everything between her and Koschei and she...isn't dealing well, let's say.

AND THIS IS GETTING LONG BUT YES RIVER!! Oh, River.....yeah, that meeting in 2018 was really complicated. I feel like it was significantly more difficult for River than for the Doctor, who just had no context for anything. But I really wanted them to meet like that, because it's meant to be a parallel between that moment in River's first episode in the show, where she looks at the Doctor and he just does not know her at all. The album that she recced though, in case it wasn't clear, wasn't in 2018, but way back when they were sort-of-dating - and as I said in the ask I just answered, it was because it resonated with her a lot and she thought it would resonate with the Doctor too. If you haven't listened to it, I do recommend it actually because it's a GORGEOUS album and very raw in places.

Sidenote - not sure if you saw the asks I replied to about campervan!River aaages back, but if not, they're here and here!

#taka replies #long post #anon #campervan au

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lmk-aus-galore · 2 years ago

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Cinema Sins/Wins Rip off of Lego Monkie Kid

‘A hero is born’ part 1

I wrote this in my old account after I no-clipped it into the back rooms so it’s now just ‘lilacartsmadison-deactivated’

So I’m going to redo this.

Inspired by @satansaidmyturnintheh3llscape

Rules:

-I won’t be counting Animation Mistakes, because Idk how to do that, and I myself am a beginner animator (more like incredibly amateur, to the point I’m asking my sister for help) Unless of course the Animation is obviously and clearly having a mistake for me to watch. The other reason is because I don’t want to keep repeating a scene just to check for an animation mistake.

-I also won’t be counting flashbacks as ‘mistakes’ because most of them are based on bias.

-I’ll be formatting it like this

-Neutral

-Sin

-Win

-Most of this is Commentary, so there won’t be a last sentence nor win or sin counter.

-This is mostly for fun, no need to get offended.

With all that said, let’s get into the episode

———————————————————————————

-Intro

-._.

-Narration, great way to introduce the audience to those who are a big fans on Journey to the West

-Stunning Animation! Props to Flying Bark Studios!

-There were villagers around here that ran in the direction of the axe, so nah they dead.

-I love how the animation makes it look, especially since this perspective makes it look so incredibly biased.

-Again this whole flashback just speaks on how the narrative is being told by someone in the sidelines, as Monkey King seems to be depicted as a mighty hero throughout the whole fight scene not making witty banter compared to reality

-Not a fan to when they close up to his face though-

-Is it just me or does the ending scene just make him look buffer?

-The transition in Tang’s narrative voice makes me giggle, you can just tell his personality just by his voice

-MK for the win

-Tang saying MK’s name introducing us to our main character further

-‘Pearls of Wisdom dripping from my lips’ Tang sounds like his nose was stuffed here

-PIGSY DON’T SMACK A SPOON AT YOUR STAFF

-Tang and Pigsy’s names being revealed, introducing us to the side characters

-‘Well wisdom don’t pay the rent you freeloader!’ So…does this imply that the shop is rented? I mean it’s confirmed in ‘Noodles or Death’ that Pigsy bought the place, and since Mk is the only one that lives there (Since Pigsy has to open the shop as seen in ‘The Skeleton Key’) shouldn’t Mk be the one paying rent? Or is this implying that Tang and Pigsy live together? FreeNoodles shippers, if you will

-This scene kinda gave me an explanation as to why he was friends with Sandy

-Idk where the game sound is from

-Tang does the oven ding

-PIGSY DON’T BEAT UP YOUR CUSTOMERS

-‘No Pigsy!’ Tang I’m sorry, but you sound like that one bottom boy in a yaoi anime

-MK’s phone is cracked, relate

-Nice tunes

-Stunning Backdrops

-Ok but the Impossible Delivery Episode makes sense considering this was Wukong’s impression of MK since he did tune out everything and end up under a construction site.

-Love the little detail that Wukong can’t hide his tail no matter what form he is XD

-MK’s so cute-

-You know, after watching Season 4 the scene where he climbs kinda…makes sense???

-This was pointed out in the wiki, so I thought to add it, I didn’t see the Horn change direction, but his hands did briefly turn purple here

-‘It’s going to take a few robots to lift the Monkey King’s staff, only those deemed worthy can wield it’ What is this Mjolnir?

-I mean technically yes, but you also have to be really, really strong. Since Y’know…IT’S A DAMN PILLAR

-Season 1 artsyle is so goofy ngl

-The scene where Red Son tries to lift it reminds me of that one scene in avengers where they try to lift Mjolnir and Hulk just struggles.

-‘Mother are you sure this is the right mountain?’ ‘No! Maybe it was that other mountain with a magical staff sealing away my husband!’ The sass here! I would never talk to my mother that way! XD

-Why did they react before the place started shaking?

-Frankenstein reference

-Reminds me of Kai from Kung Fu Panda ngl

-I almost forgot what DBK looked like before they gave him armor, it looks so weird, did the mountain cut off all his fur? He was so furry in the flashback

-‘Flesh, Bone, I have returned to the Realm of the Living!’ This implies that DBK died while being sealed in that mountain, but was brought back since he was supposed to be sealed. I actually look at the scene and how he was sealed, he could’ve actually died ngl, I mean look! The way the mountain was sealed on top of him, made it look like he was crushed or suffocated, since he only has immortal youth. That or DBK was exaggerating and actually thought he died because there was nothing he could see.

-Wukong man don’t be a jerk I know you wanna know, but you could’ve Y’know shown him a little earlier?

-I still can’t believe Red Son is Wizard Cookie, sounds more like Licorice with Father Issues.

-And this is where all the simps started saying ‘Demon Daddy’

-I heard the sound of stone breaking, either MK broke a stone as he fell on top of Red Son or one of them broke a bone

-Demon Bull King’s dramatization makes sense when you look at Red Son

-‘Waste not your energy on this…peasant’ Red Son sounds like Peridot XD

-‘Monkey King’s staff’ Who the frock is whispering that? Destiny?

-Epic Main Character Moment

-‘That staff doesn’t belong to you little boy, hand it over’ Moments like this makes me believe MK has the face of a teenager, when he’s an adult.

-Fun fact, Red Son has the Samadhi Fire symbol on his back, not sure how long ago Season 3 was planned out, but If it was still in the works during Season 1, then consider this the inspiration for the plotline

-‘Dang it!’ Proceeds to wipe off Noodles XD

-Sooo…does the staff have a mind of its own?

-‘would you get down here so I can kill you!’ Not many cartoons say this out loud, tbh, they normally just say another iteration of it.

-The whole chase scene is fabulously animated

-I just realized when MK stole a Hoverboard, the guy who was taking a photo, was able to take Red Son’s face.

-Ok I’m just assuming that it’s really easy for MK not to pay attention to his surroundings. Which is why Wukong wanted him to focus.

-Blueprints are Lego blueprints, which reminds me that this in fact is a Lego show

-Mei’s theme song for the win

-._.

-Poor MK getting dragged as Mei lands her bike

-Mei for the win

-Mei has the same braincell with MK

-‘Uhh, I actually I almost died back there’ ‘But you didn’t!’ Manifesting

-How did Pigsy afford a private arcade machine beside his shop? Or did Mei buy that?

-Seeing MK try to beat Mei’s high score man…

-‘Well in that case- where does he live?’ this part feels like it was cut off mid way, like those edits in a compilation that just randomly cut off a character’s line to make it sound funny.

-Why does she have a kill button? How does she have a kill button? Why does she need to know where he lives in order for it to work? Is it a death ray?

-But damn she really do be me when my sister speaks about that one boy in her class that I don’t like.

-‘Woah, zero stars? Congrats! Better than nothing right!’ There goes her braincell

-That door cannot muffle him out, I guarantee you.

-How long has it been for Red Son to return home, get scolded by DBK and build an entire armor for him?AND IT WORKS?!

-Family issues right now

-So…quick question…how does Iron Fan’s hair work? Like judging by the color of the horns, that’s her hair…right?

-‘The more rare the item, the more powerful father will become!’ No wonder he lost, the moment he lost the staff to MK he weakened, which is why his power was somewhat equally matched to Wukong

-I wanna know what era this takes place or if China actually has this advanced technology.

-Again! How long has time passed? And why does he tell Tang now?

-Who placed the book under the bowls?!

-This again was pointed out in the wiki, but they forgot to animate the layer.

-Poor Tang.

-I really do have a feeling Tang does indeed have combat experience.

-Like how logical this is, since if I told them that an ancient stone monkey and a Bull demon were real and used a staff just to prove it I would call falsehood too

-Welp, Pigsy, there goes the bills

-Also Staff has a mind of his own.

-When Tang fanboys about that staff, I kinda think his voice was…Idk changed a little? I guess they’re still solidifying the characters

-‘He’s at the shoe store…’ ‘This better not be one of your puppy videos Mei’ this confirms that Mei has used a different topic just to show off a puppy video before

-The fact that there’s a hashtag and people telling that Demon Bull King is real, (obvi not believing it) means that the legend was really passed down from generations and is so popular to the city’s origins, I kinda like how this is portrayed and seen, but it could also be because SWK is so popular throughout China that some people actually know the legend word by word

-If that Shoe store worker doesn’t have dedication I don’t know who does. Bro really needs that pay.

-I wanna name him, suggestion: ‘Qing Chen’ probably not the best name so I’m open to suggestions.

-DBK and Red Son got that drip

And that’s the end of part 1! See ya in Part 2! Bye!

#lego monkie kid #mk lmk #lmk #lmk mk #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk mei #lmk demon bull king #lmk red son #lmk princess iron fan

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butchviking · 2 years ago

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I think ultimately the intentions for me don't justify something that has a negative impact - your mileage may vary and that's totally cool, the world would be boring if we all agreed on everything! i think i hold mcr in particular to a high standard because when all the other bands on the scene were taking advantage of their fans, mcr always seemed different - remember that bit on their dvd where some bands on some tour were asking girls to show them their breasts in exchange for backstage passes, so gerard got onstage and was like 'if a guy tells you to show him your tits, you tell him to fuck off'? they've always had a sense of responsibility for their fans, so i want them to have that energy for their gnc/dysphoric/trans fans. anyways it was lovely chatting with you, have a lovely day/night depending on your timezone!

my mileage definitely varies but also, if intent matters less than impact, u have no reason at all to hold anything against him! sure, he stated an INTENT to release binders... but he hasn't actually done it, so there's been no impact at all! actually i put off buying a binder lol cause i was like you're gonna feel soooo stupid if u finally cave n buy one and then frank iero drops his binders 3 weeks later. so when u think about it every day frank iero does not release a binder he is having a positive impact on me personally! on a less silly note i do wonder if he's done more research and/or been informed by anyone abt the risks & harms & if that has anything to do w why there's been no significant updates on the whole thing.

& yes ofc i remember that 😭 i think about that all the time. i believe his exact words were "spit in their face and scream FUCK YOU!"... thank u gerard way for all that u are and have ever been to teen girls & young women everywhere. so sincerely from the bottom of my heart im so grateful to him. (at the same time he's obviously felt way Too responsible at times and got a whole hero/martyr complex abt it and. its not healthy i wouldn't wish that on the others. its ok for them to be just some guys its NOT their responsibility to be right abt everything all the time nd thats ok.)

its midday here but im on night shift so its like midnight for me nd i should really get 2 sleep 😭😭 goodbye my sweetheart i hope u have a lovely day or night too <3

#ask #anonymous

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lordabovehelpme · 3 years ago

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I honestly don’t think Frank would be super dominant in bed like a lot of people write him to be. Not that I dont love it! But just think, everything else in his life is rough, blood, sweat and pain, but in bed with intimacy he would be gentle, and praise his lover left and right

Okay anon- we are on the same brain wave! 🧠

I totally agree with you! I see a ton of people writing him all gruff and dangerous, and while he is (and I have a hoot reading those) I also feel like it’s something he wouldn’t be around his lover.

Here’s my thoughts...

If you don’t know him that well, like he hasn’t let you in yet or you’re just a quick fuck- that’s all you are. Then he’s all gruff and pushy and dominant. Because he doesn’t necessarily care about what you think or to be honest, care at all. So I totally understand writing him like that for those situations.

However.

Once you wiggle your way into his heart, he gets protective and boy does he care. He’d tear the world apart if something even barely harmed you, including himself. So there’s that fierce affection for you that makes him fall to his knees, that brings out his smiles, that threatens to make his heart burst.

Like you said, his life is full of death and blood and pain. And there’s no way in hell he’s bringing that to you. He’s already amazed you’ve stuck with him for this long, afraid that his sins and actions will taint your brilliance.

In the bedroom, (or elsewhere- I don’t judge) I can totally see him spending extra time making sure you’re ready for him.

He holds you from behind, putting your legs over his thighs so you’re spread for him. He rubs his hands over your body, touching you everywhere but where you want. And not until you’re nearly begging him, he’ll start to rub circles on your clit.

You’re all breathless and leaning back against his shoulder, eyes half opened and your own hands gripping at his forearm.

He fingers you, eats you out, making sure you’ve cum at least once before he even gets his cock out.

I can see this going two ways, the first being classic missionary where he can see your face, making sure that you’re not showing any signs of discomfort while he slides into you. The second being him having you on top, letting you work down on him at your own pace.

And he’s always asking if you’re okay, if it feels good, if you need to stop, if it’s too much. Somehow it makes you feel even more sensitive, maybe it’s because he’s pouring as much love as he can into your skin.

Afterwards, he’s all cuddles and kisses. Like melted goo, puddy in your hands. But not before he slides a warm washcloth between your thighs, telling you how amazing you are, how pretty you are, how perfect you are. Kisses pressed against your flesh as he lets his heart run wild.

It’s never about him, and even when you try and make it, it’s because he wants to give you eveything and please you.

So yeah- thank you for sharing!

I’m actually in the middle of writing a softer intimate scene with frank right now. So keep your eyes out! Hehe

#sweet anon #frank castle x reader #frank castle

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maxwell-grant · 3 years ago

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Having asked your thoughts on designing Frankenstein's daemon, might I now ask your thoughts on bringing Count Dracula from the written word into illustration? (I'm definitely in favour of the 'Hairy Old Mountain Man of Horror pretending he's people' look from the original novel; one of the small tests too many Draculas fail to pass is an absolutely tragic lack of the Evil Beard and/or Wicked Moustache explicitly described by Mr Stoker).

Unlike with Frankenstein, where I think the design needs to be painstakingly thought out in order to achieve the best balance of the creature's traits for horror and tragedy alike, I think with Dracula you can actually just take an approach of "whatever works". Because as I mentioned before, I think much of the appeal and longevity of Dracula is how the character's both a layered villain as well as a shapeshifting narrative force that can be tailored to whatever you want to do with. Granted, there are bad or dissappointing Dracula designs, of course there are, but in regards to the leeway you get for reinterpretation, you get a lot more of it with Dracula than with other literary icons.

Like with Frankenstein, I'm gonna bring up how I'd tackle a less grim, more comedy-centric Dracula first, one that's less a force of horror and more of a charismatic villain, and I think to that end I definitely agree that people are sleeping a lot on the hairy old man barely-passing-off-as-humanoid of the original story. Despite very much loving these performers, I'm actually not a fan of takes that mold Dracula too closely to people who've portrayed him, like Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee, partially because I think it's a waste of an opportunity to create your own Dracula design. Since I can't draw (yet), I'll do what I usually do and make a board of images to try and convey some of my thoughts on one way I'd design Dracula.

(Pictured: Kiwi's design for Dracula, Hotel Transylvania concept art, Nandor, Castlevania Dracula, Charles Dance in Dracula Untold, Vladislav, a Transylvanian rug)

I used the images in my other Dracula post and I’ll post it here again because I absolutely adore @kiwibyrd's designs for Dracula and it's main heroes, in particular I love the way it strikes a good balance at making sure Dracula looks distinctly separate from the humans, but not too much that he couldn't conceivably operate in society as just a harmless old man. I also adore the mustache and bushy eyebrows and pointy ears and I think these three are wonderful features to keep on any Dracula design. I'm also very partial to the Hotel Transylvania concept art, even if it makes me incredibly depressed to look at all the great designs they had for Dracula that they threw in the trash because they somehow decided making him look like Adam Sandler was the idea to go with.

I deeply adore What We Do In The Shadows, both the movie and the show, and Jemaine Clement's Vladislav is one of my favorite (maybe even my actual favorite) on-screen Draculas. But I also enjoy Nandor just as much, and I think it's really great that as a character he's completely different from Vlad while also being ostensibly a take on Dracula, and in particular I bring up his Jersey look because "Dracula in common clothing" is a criminally underrated concept for a joke.

As a character, I'm very partial to comedy takes on Dracula that play him up as a decadent aristocratic supervillain, the kind that can get away with talking in third person. I also have this idea for a version of Dracula who dresses ostentatiously in finely-broidered Romanian or Transylvanian patterns, maybe even wearing a rug as a cape, claiming that he's carrying the legacy of his people on his back. And of course he's lying, he's not Vlad Tepes and he's not even Romanian, he is just a parasite pretending to have a history to be proud of, but good luck getting him to admit that. And finally, I'd like this version to be played by Charles Dance, and I consider it a tremendous crime against humanity that he has yet to play Dracula proper even despite being in a film with the character's name on the title.

So that's kinda how I would design a take on Dracula for something more comedic or more based around him as this guest character and personality on-set. Now, if we're talking a more serious version, I think the possibilities increase, and I won't be getting into all of them because I may prefer to keep them to myself, but I'll elaborate a few ideas.

For example, the edition of Dracula I personally own comes with these really scratchy, really creepy B&W illustrations related to the story, that I can't find scanned online so I'm uploading them here so you can look at. They don't necessarily depict the scenes but rather some of the story's moments, like Van Helsing staking Lucy, Renfield in a straightjacket, Dracula as a coachman, and they are more focused on conveying the horror of the concepts at play.

Dracula never looks the same way in any of the illustrations, in fact you kinda have to piece him out of them by trying to find teeth or capes or eyes or bat-features to see where he's hiding this time. In the first, it's the half-man half-bat, in the 2nd, he's the shrieking bat silhouette next to Renfield, and in the latter, he's the gaping jaws and eerily humanoid eyes in the wolf. The effect to me almost feels like if you were to look at a bunch of tv static and then see a humanoid shape form for a split second before everything went back to normal, something like you'd get from Slender Man or other modern creepypastas, and I’ve argued before that Dracula’s form of horror is a very modern one.

In terms of illustrations of Dracula that keep up the original traits while still pulling off horror, I definitely have to hand it to the one at the left of the image above, drawn by regourso on Deviantart (account deleted at present). Going back to Castlevania’s many takes on Dracula, two in particular that stick out to me would be Castlevania: Judgment’s armored dress Dracula, who’s got this great twisted heart/rose motif going on in his outfit, and Dracula’s final form in SOTN where he just sits in his throne and his cape twists into all these monsters, particularly how it’s depicted by witnesstheabsurd’s depiction.

I’m not particularly a fan of how Dracula’s “final form” in these games is usually just some big demon, and part of what I like about his final form in SOTN instead is that, while it’s not a particularly challenging final boss, I do find it interesting the idea of us never actually getting to see what Dracula’s true final form looks like, only an ever-shifting pitch-black torrent of teeth and claws and bloody veins pouring out because that’s ultimately what Dracula is and brings to the world.

On the flip-side of the rotten old monster, we have the charming seductor Dracula, and while I’m really not a fan of how various adaptations have convinced people that “the point” of Dracula is that he’s a seductive force and an allegory for Victorian xenophobia and I’m reeeally even less of a fan of adaptations that make Dracula some misunderstood tragic hero (and I think I’ve made rather violently clear my feelings on interpretations that play up a romance between him and Mina), that the seductive force part exists is impossible to deny, so conversely, while on one hand we can have Dracula as the gargantuan whirlwind of predatory violence, we can also go for Dracula as the tantalizing lover.

I’ve seen a lot of opinions proclaiming Frank Langella as the best Dracula because he was the best at actually being seductive while still playing Dracula, although I haven’t yet seen his performances. If I had to point at one picture I look at and do buy for a second the idea of Dracula as a romantic character, it would be that particular still of Raul Julia in the left of the above image. And it’s strange for me to think of Raul Julia as attractive because I mainly associate him with his brilliant comedy performance of M.Bison (I know it’s far from the highlight of his career but, look, I grew up with Street Fighter, I can’t help it) but those eyes are definitely looking pretty convincing to me, if nothing else.

And I’ve included this still of Sebastian Stan in the right because, during a conversation between me, @krinsbez and @jcogginsa about who could be a good fit for Dracula, jcog suggested Sebastian Stan, partially because he’s Romanian, and I’ve learned recently that Stan was actually interested in playing the character in Blumhouse’s upcoming remake. And you’d think I’d hate this idea considering how much I don’t care for tragic anti-hero Draculas, but who says that’s what he’d have to play?

Do you have any idea how much actors, who are traditionally known for heroic or supporting roles, usually LOVE it when you give them a chance to cut loose as the main villain?

I’d want Sebastian Stan to put all of his charm, all of his talent, all of his good looks and etc, into playing the absolute most vicious, bloodthirsty and irredeemable Dracula put on screen. Someone who is exceedingly, eerily good at being a lovable protagonist, who’s all smiles and charming eyes and politeness mannerisms and maybe even a funny accent, and then it isn't as funny when he's flying through your window intent on kidnapping babies to feed to his brides, except he may take a moment or two to do so because he's feeling pretty hungry himself right now.

Now, admittedly this is kind of a lot to juggle in regards to a single character, which is why my answer for questions like these inevitably has to be “depends on what I’m going for”. That being said, if I was going to try and cast someone who I think could both look the part of Dracula, as well as respectively, play “cartoon aristocrat” Dracula, “mercurial embodiment of evil” Dracula, as well as realistically be an attractive, even seductive performer who can charm viewers even as the character descends into horrible villainy, and juggle these performances even?

I think I’d have to go with Mads Mikkelsen. Not specifically because of Hannibal (I actually haven’t watched it yet), although it’s definitely a factor, the thing that actually made me pick him specifically is, other than his looks, his voice, his reputation for playing sinister characters, the fact that he loves the role and wants to play it, or how many people are deeply in love with this man, or that people already joke that he looks like a vampire, was watching him in Another Round, and specifically that glorious final scene where he’s just dancing to his heart’s content and just, moving with such spring in his step and such joyful vitality even though he’s past his mid-fifties, and that was the moment where, in regards to how much you all love this man, I went

And now I am going to add “casting Mads Mikkelsen as a dancing Dracula” to The List of Reasons Why I Became a Filmmaker.

#replies tag #dracula #horror tag #bram stoker #charles dance #sebastian stan #mads mikkelsen #castlevania #raul julia #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #vladislav #nandor

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faccal · 2 years ago

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I swear, the way Lord John Grey looks at Jamie is gonna be the death of me. So full of love, sadness, David Berry is such an expressive actor he literally only needs his eyes. I'm almost halfway through season six, and there's a scene where the current governor is reading aloud a letter Jamie had written to him, standing down from his position for Indian relations, mentioning personal obligations are preventing him from continuing (he didn't exactly say that, but I have poor memory, lol) let me tell you, the confused and even angry expression John made just staring at the letter when the governor set it down. He then asked John if it was a letter of resignation or possible rebellion (Jamie is joining the Sons of Liberty y'all) John's face immediately relaxed and he went back to his calm, cool, masked self stating "I'm sure it is only the former."

The episode goes on and they see each other at Mistress McDonalds (the way these two men stare at each other, look at each other, see each other, is gonna fucking kill me) they have to stop some people from tar and feathering a printer (side by side, John grabs a broom covered in tar for defense lmao) and later when Jamie tells John what he's gonna do, John's eyes get full of so much sadness and worry. When he says something about Jamie potentially dying he seems to cut off and his left eye twitches really badly. (I've never seen his eyes twitch once in this show)

He also then says "you may lose your life" to which Jamie replies "or gain my freedom", with a retort of "freedom from what?" From John. Honestly I just, these bebes are so tragic and sad and I just wish they could all be happy. I really want John to be happy but Jamie loves his wife so I'm just sad about these two men and how far they've come. The whole episode John looks so sad, concerned. Anytime he looks at Jamie it's almost as if he's worried it's the last time. I just....ahshdhdjdhjcc. These men deserve better, as does Claire. These three have been through so much and I love them all.

Also in one of the promos for this episode, Sam (Jamie) talks about where his character is during this episode, and David (John) mentions how his character is torn between his loyalty to the crown, and his loyalty to the Fraser family *cough* Jamie *cough cough*.

I shouldn't ramble about these two, but they equally make me so happy and also terribly sad all at once. My books should be in within the next two weeks, I order them on the 16, the nine outlander books and the four lord John novels. I intend to buy the other side novels she's written, in order to get more information and to see my babies on paper. The Scottish Prisoner is about Jamie's time with John at Helwater* (originally I put Ardsmuir but that's only because I hadn't actually explored what each individual Lord John novel was about.) I'm excited to see them all on paper!

I must. Consume. Everything. Lmao, I just can't handle these two damnit. Also I've grown to love Claire, I really didn't care for her in the first season as much. I did enjoy her character and I loved the story, but upon my third watch through, I did start caring more about her. Frank's story is pretty tragic I think,and I do believe she was selfish for not letting him go, but these characters are portrayed so realistically. Often times you'll see unrealistic characterizations, or characters who always know the right way and nothing goes wrong. They have no flaws. These characters in Outlander, do have flaws. They have emotions,thoughts, opinions, they aren't created two dimensionally (for the most part, there are exceptions) and I just love the depth of each of the main characters. I just, enjoy the show. I am Scottish, mainly, though my family has lived in America for a long time. My ancestor Hateville, who came over and settled a town near where I work, is buried close by as well. I watched for the Jacobites and stayed for the storyline lol (and some of the drama)

Alright, enough of my nonsense and rambling, for it already makes little to no sense.

#outlander #lord john grey #jamie fraser #claire fraser #if these two men look at each other tragically one more time im gonna explode #the angst #the sadness #its glorious and i love it #but also they deserve happiness wtf

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bakugosbratx · 4 years ago

Note

omg could you do a dark villain Shoto x fem reader smut?

NSFW 18+ The Pawn— AU Villian! Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ content. Unprotected sexual intercourse, alternate universe, toxic relationship, stolkholm syndrome, fluff, angst, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, murder of family, punishment, bdsm, power play, yandere tendencies, etc.

Words: 2,410

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry it took me forever to do it. But I hope it meets what you’re looking for. This is my first time writing for Shoto so I apologize in advance.

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @quietlegends @idfkwtfgof

“Any last words?” Shoto questions with a demeaning scowl of disgust, his index finger becoming restless on the pistol’s trigger. The barrel of the gun is resting on the man’s temple while he pleads for mercy.

“I’ll have your money by next week, I swear!” The man cried.

“You said that last time. To be quite frank, I’m not really fond of your lying, Y/L/N.” Shoto admits, cocking the gun so it can fire. The terrified man’s eyes grew wide as tears stream down his face.

“Shoto,” his breath hitches, “p-please. I have a family to take care of. A wife and two children. Please.”

Horrific muffled screams filled the kitchen where your family reside as the gunshot went off. Blood leaked from your father’s bullet wound onto the floor beneath him. You all were forced to watch, tied up and helpless. Shoto even had his crew gag you so your words would not disturb his business meeting. He hates interruptions.

“Disgusting.” Shoto complains, referencing to some of the blood covering his face. Igniting his left side, he sets your father’s corpse on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled your snot filled nostrils as more whimpers escaped your cloth covered lips. This caught Shoto’s attention.

“You,” he calls out as he makes his way towards your tied up body. He picks you up with ease, throwing you over his muscular shoulder. “Are coming with me.”

Your muffled remarks were no use as well as your kicks. You are terrified and not sure why Shoto, Japan’s notorious killer, is doing in your household right now, but you know it’s not good.

“Sir,” one of the men stopped you two as Shoto is making his way towards the exit. He pauses his motion, waiting for the man’s question. “What do you want us to do with the other two? Heroes will be here any moment.”

Shoto pondered the man’s words for a moment. You are silently pleading that he will just let them go, but that was not even a thought in his mind. “Leave them be.”

“But sir—“

“The house will be burnt to ash in any given moment,” he activates his left side for emphasis, “if you want to stay alive, I suggest you gather up the others and get a move on.”

The man nodded and Shoto begins walking out of the house. You struggle in his grasp, but Shoto remains undisturbed by your antics. Throwing you into the back of a van, he slams the double doors. Now all you are left with is your thoughts.

This doesn’t seem real. It truly can’t be. Your family is being massacred and there is not a thing you can do about it. You can even hear their muzzled screams as your house goes up in flames. Still, you are useless as the van starts and drives far away from the crime scene.

Shoto Todoroki is Japan’s worse nightmare. Numerous accounts of murder, abuse of power, kidnapping, anything terrible had Shoto’s name on it. No one knows much about the villain’s personal life except for his heroic father with a bad temper. Some say it is his fault for the way his son turned out and Shoto would agree, but Shoto’s crimes will not be taken from him. No, they are all his doing and he is proud of it.

“Y/N,” Shoto called, making you snap out of your thoughts. You turn to meet the man that now claims you as his. “Are you alright, love? You hardly touched your food.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You mumbled, giving a soft smile. Bringing the ramen noodle soup to your lips, you forced yourself to eat the food. Your stomach is in shambles as the thoughts from that night came back. There are still many unanswered questions and unknown puzzle pieces, but that is a life you need to forget about. You are Shoto’s now. You have no choice but to be his.

Shoto studied your features. If there is one thing Shoto is not is dumb. He is observant. Just one wrong look and you are in deep trouble. Considering you have been living with Shoto for over a year now, you have grown accustomed to his ways. You have learned to appease him in anyway to make you happy. Especially if it is going to keep you alive.

“You know I don’t appreciate when you lie to me.” Shoto nonchalantly reminds you, noticing how quickly you swallow when the words flow out off his tongue.

“I-I’m not lying, Shoto. Honestly.” You stammered, hoping he would not notice the fear trickling in your eyes. He did, though. Shoto noticed everything about you. One of the many things you despised about him.

The rest of super was ate in silence. As you have learned, this is never a good sign. When Shoto is quiet, he’s plotting. Usually, it’s your punishment. You can see it in his eyes and the subtle touches he does to you. All to make you feel uneasy. Just like he can read you, you are learning to read him just the same.

Once dinner was over, he gathered the dirty dinning wear and washed them. You remained in your chair until you are granted permission to stand up. Your heart is racing with anticipation. What is Shoto plotting? Especially for something as simple as lying.

“Y/N,” Shoto paused to make sure your attention was his. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight along with your body stiffening. You hear him walking towards you, his one cold hand and other warm one rest on your shoulders. “Go upstairs to our shared bedroom.”

“Y-Yes, Shoto.” You mumbled, scurrying up the steps like the good behave girl he taught you to be. If only your filthy little mouth could stop lying.

Shoto is quick to follow after your trembling body. His presence is swallowing you whole as he march up the stairs behind you. Your clammy palm turns the golden doorknob into the master bedroom. You immediately turn around, groping your butt in fear for what may happen to it.

Shoto shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms folded. His face held its usual unamused look as he glares at you.

“I’m giving you one last chance to be honest with me, Y/N.”

“I-I have been honest a-all along, Shoto.” You argued. Shoto’s glare intensified.

“You were thinking about your family again, weren’t you?”

“What? No, I-“

“You’re just like your father.” Shoto scornfully chuckled, strolling towards you. His right hand folded around your neck, giving it a nice squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “and you know how much I truly despise your father.”

His hot breath seemed to linger on the shell of your ear. Your eyes harden as they meet his. His icy hand seemed to make this choking experience even worse. You would get frostbite if it gets any colder, but something in you snapped. You have not fought back in months. You became the submissive girl Shoto desperately wanted you to be yet you are still in the same position as many times before.

“You’re one to talk.” You choked out. The hold on your neck became stronger, circulation being lost to your organs. You are pushed onto the bed, Shoto’s muscular form on top of you.

“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster again, understand me?” Shoto growls as he watch you struggle beneath him. You started to turn pale as your body loses its natural color from lack of air flow. His hatred from his father and yours is taking over as you slowly start to become unconscious. He finally lets go.

You cough, grasping for air. It felt like there was not enough in there to supply your deprived body. Especially with Shoto’s suffocating presence on top of you.

“You have some real nerve talking to me like that, Y/N. When will you learn that your family is the true bad guys in the situation, not me. They screwed me over and I came for what they owed me. You’re just a pawn.”

“You’re lying..” You mumbled out in disbelief. Shoto’s devious grin just grew wider at the tears in your eyes.

“I’m not like your father.” Shoto spats, venom dripping from every wretched word. Your heart is aching and this only fuels the fire.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, warm tears streaming down your face. Shoto only chuckled at your mere offense.

“I plan on it.”

Your look of disgust was ignored as Shoto’s lips trailed from your neck to your lips. You forced yourself to kiss back. You always do. You two had sex plenty of times and sadly, you enjoyed it, but when it’s used for punishment or after he has tears down any sheer ounce of self esteem you possessed it is quite difficult to get in the mood.

“Why do you keep me here?” You finally breathe out as your lips disconnect. Shoto furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Because your family is dead.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed. Shoto is very intelligent, but someone who is also literal. He does not always catch onto what you’re actually trying to ask. “I mean, if I’m just some pawn, why keep me here? Why not let me have the same fate as my family?”

Shoto stayed silent. He pondered how he should answer this. He just started touching you outside of the bedroom a couple months ago. It even took him a long time to have sexual intercourse with you. He knows he could have killed you off. He is sure of it. You have been a pain in his ass since he collected you for payment yet you’re still here.

“I don’t know.” Shoto answered, truthfully.

You sigh. You are not sure what answer you were expecting, but knowing where this is leading does not make you feel any better about yourself. You just feel more used.

Silence over fell you two. Shoto is in deep thought as so are you. You are worried that your days are numbered now, but Shoto was not even thinking about that. He is more thinking of himself and how he can’t murder you. He actually likes having you around. He may never say it and his facial features will never show it, but with you by his side, his frozen heart starts to thaw. Just by your simple glimpses and touches.

Part of him hated you for that.

“Shoto,” you whisper, catching his attention. You made yourself look away. You have so many conflicting thoughts. Shoto is all you have now and in all honesty, you have grown not to hate the guy. You love the soft touches and the way he keeps you warm at night. He is so observant of the slightest of things. That’s more than your family has ever given you.

Your right hand cupped his cheek. He seemed slightly tense by the action, but he instantly fell into your touch. Your thumb grazed his cheek.

“I-I,” you meet his gaze, “I enjoy your company.” You admit. Shoto kept silent, but your words meant something to him. You both are not good with this kind of stuff. You were never taught it. This is the closest thing you two will ever get to ‘I love you.’

Your lips connected once again. During the process, each one of your articles of clothing was discarded to the ground below. Shoto kissed down your exposed breast, stomach, and finally stopped at your pussy. He swiped his tongue between your folds sending chills down your spine along with needy moans escaping your parted lips.

“Shoto, please.“ You whined, wanting him to make you soaked already, but you are on Shoto’s terms. He gets to decide everything.

Luckily, he did not make you wait long as tongue swirled on your sensitive clit. Your legs rested on his shoulders as he devoured you. Small groans is all Shoto could do as his tongue explored every inch of your pussy. Not a spot was missed nor would he allow there to be. Your clit was being the most spoiled. Your entrance was then meet shortly after. You did your best to conceal your sweet melodies of pleasure, but Shoto is not allowing you to do so.

“You have a voice for a reason. Use it.” He orders in a low growl amongst your cunt.

“Shoto,” you sob, “I’m about to cum. Please.”

You arched your back as your cunt was about to release. Shoto sped up the pace, helping you meet your climax even sooner. On que, you sing sweet little melodies of moans as you release into the man’s mouth. Every drop was swallowed by him.

Shoto stood up, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. Understood?”

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, Shoto.”

Shoto aligned his erection with your weeping entrance. Shortly after, your walls are hugging his length as it dives deeper and deeper into you. Each thrust loosened you even more and he kept a steady pace. You gripped the expensive European satin bedsheets as you babbled incoherent words and phrases. You kept your eyes locked on Shoto the whole time just like he ordered.

“Shoto.” You finally moan aloud as his dick is inside of you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He groans. Your crying cunt was dripping with your slick onto the fabric of the bed and on Shoto’s cock.

“Yes.” You manage to blurt out as you gasp for more. His cock felt amazing no matter how much you wanted to hate him for it. This is one of the ways he shows affection. You learned to accept that.

Shoto’s hands find their way to your bouncing titties. The difference between temperatures sent your body into overdrive. He loved seeing the lewd faces you make as he used his power to pleasure you. Shoto’s dick did not stop thrusting into you through this process either though it is twitching.

Pre-cum leaks into your cunt. Shoto removes his hands from your breast as he picks up the pace. His knees start to buckle beneath him as cum flows from his cock. Every drop is milked from him until he pulls outs.

This is his way of saying ‘I love you.’

©bakugosbratx

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marvelouspeterparker · 4 years ago

Text

all worth it

pairing: tom holland x interviewer!reader

summary: tom is an actor, doing interviews is a part of his job. but there’s just something about you that makes him feel like the stress that comes with press tours and interviews is all worth it.

warnings: none, just fluff

notes: literally got this idea from looking at an onward interview gif (the one where he recites the lines from back to the future, iykyk) also imagine the pandemic never happened in this jfskgh

so tom loves his job, obviously

he gets to be his number one favorite superhero, make people happy, do what he loves, and more

but that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to his career

there is actually a lot of stress that comes with being in the limelight and that includes people constantly watching your every move, being critiqued, questioned and put on the spot

and the perfect time for all this to occur? during interviews

now some of the time, interviews are nice, sometimes they’re even fun

but unfortunately a lot of the time, the same questions are asked in each and every one, one after the other, for hours on end and it honestly gets very boring and very draining very fast

so to be quite frank, he wasn’t expecting much when he walked into the next room for his last interview of the day

but when you walked in, he couldn’t help but perk up a bit

you were pretty and you seemed very nice as well, greeting everyone, including the crew as you made your way over to tom, jacob and zendaya

some of the interviewers would just walk straight to their seat and start the questions almost immediately, no warmth in their manners––but you, you were different

you shook each of their hands, smiling wide as you said hello

you couldn’t really contain your enthusiasm, you were a big marvel fan, and a fan of each of them, so you couldn’t tame your smile even if you wanted to

your energy was infectious and tom was more than grateful for it

when you reached him, he looked into your eyes deeply and you had to snap out of your daze before you made a fool of yourself

‘hello darling’ he licked his lips as he looked up at you, a gracious smile on his face and you blinked a couple times before responding

‘hi it’s––so nice to meet you, i’m a big fan.’ you turned to look at the others, ‘of all of you, really.’

they all ‘aww’ed and accepted your compliments, thanking you as you took your seat

when you were given the green light to start, you gave a curt nod to the crew behind the cameras and started right away

you were professional and good at your job, making the cast feel welcome and at ease after a long day of work

you told jokes, asked interesting questions that others hadn’t and since you were a marvel fan, you were able to ask specific questions that showed your genuine interest in the comics, the films, the plots and more

tom could feel himself getting more comfortable as the interview went on and the smile never left his face throughout the entire thing

when it ended and they turned the cameras off, you all felt a bit disappointed that you would have to say goodbye so soon, you were all having a good time and genuinely laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt

you thanked them all for their time and jacob was quick to wave you off

‘no thank you––i think we can all agree that we saved the best for last today.’ he looked to his friends and they nodded along

zendaya chimed in ‘for real, this was fun.’

you smiled, honored that you managed to make their day a little better and tom spoke up quietly, making you turn to look at him

‘yeah this, this was really great. thank you y/n.’

you could feel your cheeks heating up but you nodded, smiling as you tried your best to calm your raging heartbeat ‘my pleasure’

tom would have loved to speak with you more afterwards honestly, but unfortunately as soon as he exited the room, he and his friends were being ushered towards the next location for the day, preparing for the long week they still had ahead of them

though you had hoped to see more of tom, you only had one interview with him, so you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon

or so you thought, anyway

your boss surprised you with a chance to go to the premiere, and interview some of the cast and other actors on the red carpet of course (since you were there for work)

you honestly thought that if tom did see you, he would only give you a small wave, maybe a slight head nod at best since you’d already interviewed him, but to your surprise, when he saw you, he smiled immediately and made his way over to you, swerving away from his entourage (which consisted of his brothers, assistant, and others you didn’t recognize)

‘hi love, how are you?’

his eyes were shining under the bright lights on the carpet and there were hundreds of shouts and conversations going on around you, but he somehow managed to make you focus only on him, from his voice and presence alone

‘good! how are you? you excited? nervous?’

he laughed, tilting his head, ‘both, but you know, i’m really proud of this film and i’m ready for people to see it’

you didn’t have much time to talk since there were plenty of other interviewers, journalists and on top of that he had to take pictures so you wished him good luck and he thanked you genuinely

‘i have to run, but be sure to tell me what you think of the movie afterwards, yeah? i know you’re a marvel fan, wanna see if it lives up to your standards’ he winked and you stuttered for a bit, agreeing as he walked off

you were shocked that he wanted to hear your opinion, but granted there was a camera on you both, which you might have forgotten about while you were talking

but you couldn’t help but think, was that flirting? does he really want to know what i think?

you tried to push the butterflies down and focus on the film as you watched and honestly, it was easy to forget about everything else once you looked at the screen

the film, the plot, tom––everything was so captivating and entertaining, you couldn’t look away even if you tried

it wasn’t until after the film had ended, and you’d stayed for both end credit scenes that you realized you had no way of contacting tom

surely he would have things to do after this, after parties maybe? so you most likely wouldn’t see him outside

and it’s not like he followed you on instagram––he probably wouldn’t even see your dm if you sent one

as you were on your way out, thinking about all this, you felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned, a smile on your face

but soon realizing it wasn’t who you’d hoped, you tried to not let the disappointment show on your face but as you looked clearly, you realized the man looked familiar

‘hi’ he smiled, ‘i’m tom’s assistant’ you nodded, greeting him a little confused

‘tom’ he started, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘wanted me to give you this’ he handed you the paper and you opened it, feeling your stomach jump when you realized a number was scribbled on it, signed -tom ;)

without even realizing, you stared at the ink on the paper for a few seconds silently before his assistant snapped you out of it

‘he wanted you to know that he’s not a dick and he would have come if he could’

you laughed and looked up at him

‘honestly he felt really bad he couldn’t come himself, trust me.’

you nodded and put the paper in your bag, ‘thank you, i’ll be sure to use this’ you smiled

he smiled too, ‘tom hopes you will’

you had a feeling that tom would be busy that night, and probably hungover the next morning, so you waited a couple of days before contacting him

and during those two days, tom was honestly freaking out inside...and outside

were you not interested? was he too forward? did he do something wrong? did you get the wrong idea of him?

he was even texting harrison, jacob and zendaya about it in their group chat

tom: i’m an idiot aren’t i

zendaya: yeah but we already knew that

tom: 😑

harrison: i’m sure she’ll text you, maybe she’s just busy

jacob: yeah man, you’re a total catch

jacob: and anyway if she doesn’t want you, i’ll have you 😏

tom: thanks babe 😘

zendaya: i’m just gonna go––

tom: but anyway, i don’t think i’ll ever shoot my shot ever again because this is just embarrassing

not even a full minute passed before the he send the next text

tom: nevermind she just texted me

tom almost dropped his phone when he saw the message pop up

maybe: y/n: hi tom! this is y/n :) i’m free to give you my thoughts on the movie when you are

you felt like you were going to be sick when you hit send on the message––you didn’t want to bother him, it’d been several days, what if he changed his mind?

and you––nevermind he responded immediately

tom: hi darling :) i’m glad you used my number

tom: i’m free to talk now actually, we could facetime if that’s easier? only if you want, of course

you paused when you read his text, luckily you had showered and gotten dressed today so you didn’t look a mess but you opened the camera just to check if you looked alright

were you really about to facetime tom holland?

when you finished fixing your hair, smoothing down your eyebrows and licking your lips, you swallowed your nerves and replied

y/n: sure, i’d like that

he took a deep breath and hit the call button, eagerly waiting for it to connect when you answered

when you both came into view, you smiled, greeting each other shyly

‘was a little worried when you didn’t call me that night’ he admitted sheepishly

your brows raised, surprised ‘oh i just––i assumed you would have been busy you know, after parties and all that’ you laughed and he joined you, a small smile on his face

‘darling even if you called me during the party, i would have left just to talk to you––missed hearing your voice honestly’

when you paused to answer a blush coated his cheeks and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked

‘sorry was that lame?’ he laughed nervously and you shook your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile

‘no––that was, really sweet actually. i––like talking to you too, it’s really nice’

soon you get to talking about the actual movie and you couldn’t stop the praises from flowing

‘honestly it was incredible tom, you were incredible, i loved it’

‘thank you love, i’m really glad you enjoyed it, i was hoping you would.’

and the way that tom smiled bashfully and blushed, even pointing the camera away from his face to hide at one point had you swooning more than ever

after that, you and tom texted here and there, sometimes even facetiming, and he wouldn’t hesitate to compare you to his other interviewers and even tell you about it

‘had an interview today, can’t even compare it to yours, love’

you just rolled your eyes, a smile on your face ‘oh shut up, tom’

you talk often but due to both of your busy schedules, months go by before you see each other again

you run into him at red carpets for other marvel movies, and there’s never a dull moment between the two of you

‘‘there’s my favorite interviewer’ his smile was wide as he walked up to you. ‘you excited for this one?’

you scoffed, fully having a conversation with tom as though you weren’t on camera ‘of course i am, it looks amazing’

‘even better than my movies?’

you raised your hands in surrender, ‘legally, i can’t answer that’

he put a hand to his chest, acting dramatically offended ‘wow well, i guess it’s time for me to go then’

‘at least save me a seat?’ you joked

‘you know i will’ he smirked

by the time ‘the devil all the time’ press came about, you hadn’t told tom that you were assigned to interview him, honestly it was a last minute schedule change

honestly, he’d gotten good at hiding his bad moods from the public, but you’d known him for enough time now to be able to see when he wasn’t at his 100%

which is why you could see him visibly brighten up when he walked into the room and saw you

‘what are you doing here?’ he asked, clearly (pleasantly) surprised as he hugged you

‘uh, my job?’ you joked, ‘you didn’t actually think i only interviewed for the mcu did you?’

he blushed, ‘well i uh––no, obviously not’ he said unconvincingly but you brushed him aside as you got ready for the interview

once you started, tom couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, you were just really good at your job and he enjoyed being with you, even when it was for work

‘so obviously audiences are used to seeing you as peter parker, a rather lighthearted character, despite all the hardships he’s had to face––would you say approaching a character as dark as this was challenging in any way? mentally, emotionally, or just in regards to the fact that the public would be seeing a new, more sinister, villainous side to you?’

‘i mean it was a little daunting, definitely. but i was excited to sort of branch out mentally and challenge myself emotionally for this role––the story was fascinating to me and i was just so proud to be a part of this project, i tried not to think of any downsides.’

he paused and licked his lips, a glint in his eyes. ‘and honestly, we all have a little bit of a dark side, don’t we?’

you paused. of all times to flirt––

‘well hopefully not to the same extent of your character,’ you joked and thankfully the conversation smoothly transitioned elsewhere

now the fans took notice of your bond with tom

they noticed that tom seemed to smile the brightest and laugh the loudest during your interviews, even jumping into other conversations and answers to questions that were directed to his costars

there were dozens of videos, hundreds of edits––

‘tom falling for his interviewer for 9 minutes straight’

and you’d seen them––it was sort of impossible for you to not

you’d been tagged in so many of them, even your friends sent them to you

i mean you weren’t blind, tom was attractive and he did make your heart flutter but you assumed that he didn’t want a relationship since his career was only progressing, skyrocketing either––it would probably be difficult to maintain a solid relationship, or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you so you said nothing

it wasn’t until he had a break from filming that he asked you to hangout, and still you thought nothing of it, until he asked what time he should pick you up

you paused, and he even thought that you froze when really you were just processing what he said

‘like a––date?’ you asked hesitantly

he smiled, scratching the back of his head nervously, ‘yeah? yeah i––like a date.’

you smiled, ‘i would love to tom. but aren’t you worried about pictures spreading online? headlines and all that? i wouldn’t want to add any more stress––’

‘i promise love,’ he interrupted your worried rant, ‘you make it all worth it.’

#idk how i feel about this might delete it we’ll see #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland hc #tom holland headcanon #tom holland headcannon #tom holland fluff #tom holland x interviewer!reader

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laurasimonsdaughter · 3 years ago

Text

The Counterfeit Marquise

A literary fairy tale published in 1697, presumably by Charles Perrault and François-Timoléon De Choisy (who spent a considerable amount of his life in drag, just like the protagonists of this story).

Translated by Ranjit Bolt, featured in Warner’s Wonder tales: six stories of enchantment (1996).

Cw: gender disphoria.

The Marquis de Banneville had been married barely six months to a beautiful and highly intelligent young heiress when he was killed in battle at Saint-Denis. His widow was profoundly affected. They had still been very much in love and no domestic quarrels had disturbed their happiness. She did not allow herself an excess of grief. With none of the usual lamentations, she withdrew to one of her country houses to weep at her leisure, without constraint or ostentation. But no sooner had she arrived than it was pointed out to her, on the basis of irrefutable evidence, that she was carrying a child. At first she rejoiced at the prospect of seeing a little replica of the man she had loved so much. She was careful to preserve her husband’s precious remains, and took every possible step to keep his memory alive. Her pregnancy was very easy, but as her time drew near she was tormented by a host of anxieties. She pictured a soldier’s gruesome death in its full horror. She imagined the same fate for the child she was expecting and, unable to reconcile herself to such a distressing idea, prayed a thousand times to heaven to send her a daughter who, by virtue of her sex, would be spared so cruel a fate. She did more: she made up her mind that, if nature did not answer her wishes, she would correct her. She took all the necessary precautions and made the midwife promise to announce to the world the birth of a girl, even if it was a boy.

Thanks to these measures the business was effected smoothly. Money settles everything. The marquise was absolute mistress in her château and word soon spread that she had given birth to a girl, though the child was actually a boy. It was taken to the curé who, in good faith, christened it Marianne. The wet nurse was also won over. She brought little Marianne up and subsequently became her governess. She was taught everything a girl of noble birth should know: dancing; music; the harpsichord. She grasped everything with such precocity her mother had no choice but to have her taught languages, history, even modern philosophy. There was no danger of so many subjects becoming confused in a mind where everything was arranged with such remarkable orderliness. And what was extraordinary, not to say delightful, was that so fine a mind should be found in the body of an angel. At twelve her figure was already formed. True, she had been a little constricted from infancy with an iron corset, to widen her hips and lift her bosom. But this had been a complete success and (though I shall not describe her until her first journey to Paris) she was already a very beautiful girl. She lived in blissful ignorance, quite unaware that she was not a girl. She was known in the province as la belle Marianne. All the minor gentry roundabout came to pay court to her, believing she was a rich heiress. She listened to them all and answered their gallantries with great wit and frankness. My heart, she said to her mother one day, isn’t made for provincials. If I receive them kindly it’s because I want to please people.

Be careful, my child, said the marquise: you’re talking like a coquette.

Ah, maman, she answered, let them come. Let them love me as much as they like. Why should you worry as long as I don’t love them?

The marquise was delighted to hear this, and gave her complete licence with these young men who, in any case, never strayed beyond the bounds of decorum. She knew the truth and so feared no consequences. La belle Marianne would study till noon and spend the rest of the day at her toilette.

After devoting the whole morning to my mind, she would say gaily, It’s only right to give the afternoon to my eyes, my mouth, all this little body of mine.

Indeed, she did not begin dressing till four. Her suitors would usually have gathered by then, and would take pleasure in watching her toilette. Her chambermaids would do her hair, but she would always add some new embellishment herself. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in great curls. The fire in her eyes and the freshness of her complexion were quite dazzling, and all this beauty was animated and enhanced by the thousand charming remarks that poured continually from the prettiest mouth in the world. All the young men around her adored her, nor did she miss any opportunity to increase that adoration. She would herself, with exquisite grace, put pendants in her ears – either of pearls, rubies or diamonds – all of which suited her to perfection. She wore beauty spots, preferably so tiny that one could barely see them with the naked eye and, if her complexion had not been so delicate and fine, could not have seen them at all. When putting them on she made a great show of consulting now one suitor, now another, as to which would suit her best. Her mother was overjoyed and kept congratulating herself on her ingenuity. He is twelve years old, she would say to herself under her breath. Soon I should have had to think about sending him to the Military Academy, and in two years he would have followed his poor father. Whereupon, transported with affection, she would go and kiss her darling daughter, and would let her indulge in all the coquetries that she would have condemned in anyone else’s child.

This is how matters stood when the Marquise de Banneville was obliged to go to Paris to deal with a lawsuit that one of her neighbours had taken out against her. Naturally she took her daughter with her, and soon realised that a pretty young girl can be useful when it comes to making petitions. The first person she went to see was her old friend the Comtesse d’Alettef,11 to ask for her advice and her protection for her daughter. The comtesse was struck by Marianne’s beauty and so enjoyed kissing her that she did so several times. She took on herself the task of chaperoning her, and looked after her when her mother was busy with her suit, promising to keep her amused. Marianne could not have fallen into better hands. The comtesse was born to enjoy life. She had managed to separate herself from an inconvenient husband. Not that he lacked qualities (he loved pleasure as much as she did) but since they could not agree in their choice of pleasures, they had the good sense not to get in one another’s way and each followed their own inclinations. The comtesse, though not young any more, was beautiful. But the desire for lovers had given way to the desire for money, and gambling was now her chief passion. She took Marianne everywhere, and everywhere she was received with delight.

Meanwhile, the Marquise de Banneville slept easily. She was well aware of the comtesse’s somewhat dubious reputation, and would never have trusted her with a real daughter. But quite apart from the fact that Marianne had been brought up with a strong sense of virtue, the marquise wanted a little amusement and so left her to her own devices, merely telling her that she was entering a scene very different from that of the provinces; that she would encounter passionate, devoted lovers at every turn; that she must not believe them too readily; that if she felt herself giving way she was to come and tell her everything; and that in future she would look on her as a friend rather than a daughter, and give her such advice as she herself might take.

Marianne, whom people were starting to call the little marquise, promised her mother that she would disclose all her feelings to her and, relying on past experience, believed herself a match for the gallantry of the French court. This was a bold undertaking thirty years ago. Magnificent dresses were made for her; all the newest fashions tried on her. The comtesse, who presided over all this, saw to it that her hair was dressed by Mlle de Canillac. She had only some child’s earrings and a few jewels; her mother gave her all hers, which were of poor workmanship, and managed at relatively little expense to have two pairs of diamond pendants made for her ears, and five or six crisping pins for her hair. These were all the ornaments she needed. The comtesse would send her carriage for her immediately after dinner and take her to the theatre, the opera, or the gaming houses. She was universally admired. Wives and daughters never tired of caressing her, and the loveliest of them heard her beauty praised without a hint of jealousy. A certain hidden charm, which they felt but did not understand, attracted them to her and forced them to pay homage where homage was due. Everyone succumbed to her spell and her wit, which was even more irresistible than her beauty, won her more certain and lasting conquests. The first thing that captivated them was the dazzling whiteness of her complexion. The bloom in her cheeks, forever appearing and reappearing, never ceased to amaze them. Her eyes were blue and as lively as one could wish; they flashed from beneath two heavy lids that made their glances more tender and languishing. Her face was oval-shaped and her scarlet lips, which protruded slightly, would break – even when she spoke with the utmost seriousness – into a dozen delightful creases, and into a dozen even more delightful when she laughed. This exterior – so charming in itself – was enhanced by all that a good education can add to an excellent nature. There was a radiance, a modesty in the little marquise’s countenance that inspired respect. She had a sense of occasion: she always wore a cap when she went to church, never a beauty spot – avoiding the ostentation cultivated by most women. At Mass, she would say, One prays to God; at balls one dances; and one must do both with total commitment.

She had been leading a most agreeable life for three months when Carnival came round. All the princes and officers had returned from camp, and everywhere entertainments were being held again. Everyone was giving parties and there was a great ball at the Palais Royal. The comtesse, who was too old to show her face on such occasions, decided to go masked and took the little marquise with her. She was dressed as a shepherdess in an extremely simple but becoming costume. Her hair, which hung down to her waist, was tied up in great curls with pink ribbons – no pearls, no diamonds, only a beautiful cap. She had dressed herself, but even so all eyes were fixed on her. That night her beauty was triumphant.

The handsome Prince Sionad was there, dressed as a woman – a rival to the fair sex who, in the opinion of connoisseurs, took first prize for beauty. On arriving at the ball the comtesse decided to go and sit behind the lovely Sionad. Chère princesse, she said as she drew near and introduced the little marquise, here is a young shepherdess you should find worth looking at. Marianne approached respectfully and wanted to kiss the hem of the prince’s dress (or should I say the princess’s) but he lifted her up, embraced her tenderly and cried delightedly: What a lovely girl! What fine features! What a smile! What delicacy! And if I’m not mistaken, she is as clever as she is beautiful.

The little marquise had responded only with a bashful smile when a young prince came up and claimed her for a dance. At first all eyes were fixed on him, owing to his rank. But when people saw her answering his questions without awkwardness or embarrassment; saw what a feel she had for the music; how gracefully she moved; her little jumps in time; her smiles, subtle without being malicious and the fresh glow that vigorous exercise brought to her face, total silence, as at a concert, descended on the hall. The violinists found to their delight that they could hear themselves play, and everyone seemed intent on watching and wondering at her. The dance ended with applause, little of it for the prince, popular though he was.

The acclaim that the little marquise had received at the Palais Royal ball greatly increased the comtesse’s affection and concern for her. She could no longer do without her and she offered her rooms in her house, so that she could enjoy her company at her leisure. But on no account would her mother agree to this. The little marquise was almost fourteen and, if the secret of her birth was to be kept, it was vital that no one should be on intimate terms with her except her governess, who got her up and saw her into bed. She was still quite ignorant of her situation and, though she had many admirers, felt nothing for them. She cared for nothing and no one but herself and her appearance. People spoke to her of nothing else. She drank down this delicious praise in long draughts and thought herself the most beautiful person in the world; the more so since her mirror swore to her every day that the praise was justified.

One day she was at the theatre, in the first tier, when she noticed a beautiful young man in the next box. He wore a scarlet doublet embroidered with gold and silver, but what fascinated her were his dazzling diamond earrings and three or four beauty spots. She watched him intently and found his countenance so sweet and amiable that she could not contain herself, and said to the comtesse: Madame, look at that young man! Isn’t he handsome! Indeed, said the comtesse, but he is too conscious of his looks, and that is not becoming in a man. He might as well dress as a girl.

The performance went on and they said nothing more, but the little marquise often turned her head, no longer able to concentrate on the play, which was The Feign’d Alcibiades. Some days later she was at the theatre again in the third tier. The same young man, who drew such attention to himself with his extraordinary adornments, was in the second tier. He watched the little marquise at his leisure, as fascinated by her as she had been by him on the previous occasion, but less restrained. He kept turning his back on the actors, unable to take his eyes off her and she, for her part, responded in a manner less than consistent with the dictates of modesty. She felt in this exchange of looks something she had never experienced before: a certain joy at once subtle and profound, which passes from the eyes to the heart and constitutes the only real happiness in life. At last the play ended and, while they waited for the afterpiece, the beautiful young man left his box and went to ask the little marquise’s name. The porters, who saw her often, were happy to oblige him; they even told him where she lived. He now saw that she was of noble birth and decided, if possible, to make her acquaintance, even if he went no further. He resolved (love being ingenious) to enter her box by accident.

Ah, madame, he cried, I beg your pardon: I thought this was my box. The Marquise de Banneville loved intrigue and made the most of this one. Monsieur, she said to him with great frankness, we are indeed fortunate in your mistake: a man as handsome as you is welcome anywhere.

She hoped in this way to detain him so that she could look at him at her leisure; examine him and his adornments; please her daughter (whose feelings she had already detected) and, in a word, have some harmless amusement. He hesitated before deciding to remain in the box without taking a seat at the front. They asked him a hundred questions, to which he replied very wittily. His manner and tone of voice had an undeniable charm. The little marquise asked him why he wore pendants in his ears. He replied that he always had: his ears had been pierced when he was a child. As for the rest, they must excuse these little embellishments, normally only suitable for the fair sex, on the grounds of youth.

Everything suits you, monsieur, said the little marquise with a blush. You can wear beauty spots and bracelets as far as we’re concerned. You wouldn’t be the first. These days young men are always doing themselves up like girls. The conversation never flagged. When the afterpiece was over he conducted the ladies to their coach and had his follow it as far as the marquise’s house where, not daring to enter, he sent a page to present his compliments.

During the days that followed they saw him everywhere: in church; in the park; at the opera and the theatre. He was always unassuming, always respectful. He would bow low to the little marquise, not daring to approach or speak to her. He seemed to have but one object, and wasted no time in attaining it. Finally, after three weeks, the Marquise de Banneville’s brother (who was a state councillor) called and suggested that she receive a visitor – his good friend and neighbour, the Marquis de Bercour. He assured her that he was an excellent man and brought him round immediately after lunch. The marquis was the handsomest man in the world; his hair was black and arranged in thick, natural-looking curls. It was cut in line with the ears so that his diamond earrings could be seen. On this particular day he had attached to each of these a pearl. He also wore two or three beauty spots (no more) to emphasise his fine complexion.

Ah, brother, said the marquise, is this the Marquis de Bercour? Yes, madame, replied the marquis, and he cannot live any longer without seeing the loveliest girl in the world.

As he said this he turned towards the little marquise, who was beside herself with joy. They sat and talked, exchanging news, discussing amusements and new books. The little marquise was a versatile conversationalist, and they were soon at ease with one another. The old councillor was the first to leave, the marquis the last, having remained as long as he felt he could.

After this he never missed an opportunity of paying court to the girl he loved, and always made sure that everything was perfect. When the good weather came and they went out walking to Vincennes or in the Bois, they would find a magnificent collation, which seemed to have been brought there by magic, at a place specially chosen in the shade of some trees. One day there would be violins; the next oboes. The marquis had apparently given no instructions, yet it was obvious that he had arranged everything. Nevertheless, it took several days to guess who had given the little marquise a magnificent present. One morning a carrier brought a chest to her house which he said was from the Comtesse Alettef. She opened it eagerly and was delighted to find in it gloves, scents, pomades, perfumed oils, gold boxes, little toilet cases, more than a dozen snuff boxes in different styles, and countless other treasures. The little marquise wanted to thank the comtesse, who had no idea what she was talking about. She found out in the end, but reproached herself more than once for not having guessed at once.

These little attentions advanced the marquis’s cause considerably. The little marquise greatly appreciated them. Madame, she said to her mother with admirable honesty, I no longer know where I am. Once I wanted to be beautiful in everyone’s eyes; now the only person I want to find me beautiful is the marquis. I used to love balls, plays, receptions, places where there was a lot of noise. Now I’m tired of all that. My only pleasure in life is to be alone and think about the man I love. He’s coming soon, I whisper to myself. Perhaps he’ll tell me he loves me. Yes, madame, he hasn’t said that yet; hasn’t spoken those wonderful words: I love you, though his eyes and his actions have told me so a hundred times. Then, my child, replied the marquise, I’m very sorry for you. You were happy before you saw the marquis. You enjoyed everyone’s company; everyone loved you and you loved only yourself, your own person, your beauty. You were wholly consumed with the desire to please, and please you did. Why change such a delightful life? Take my advice, my dear child: let your sole concern be to profit from the advantages nature has given you. Be beautiful: you have experienced that joy; is there any other to touch it? To draw everyone’s gaze; to win all hearts; to delight people wherever one goes; to hear oneself praised continually, and not by flatterers; to be loved by all and love only oneself: that, my child, is the height of happiness, and you can enjoy it for a long time. You are a queen, don’t make yourself a slave: you must resist at the outset a passion that is carrying you away in spite of yourself. Now you command, but soon you will obey. Men are fickle: the marquis loves you today – tomorrow he will love someone else.

Stop loving me! said the little marquise. Love someone else! And she burst into tears.

Her mother, who loved her dearly, tried to console her and succeeded by telling her that the marquis was coming. There was a lot at stake and this incipient passion caused her considerable alarm. Where will it lead? she asked herself. To what bizarre conclusion. If the marquis declares himself – if he plucks up courage and asks for certain favours – she will refuse him nothing. But then, she reflected, the little marquise has been well trained; she is sensible; at most she will grant such trifling favours as will leave them in ignorance – an ignorance essential to their happiness.

They were talking like this when someone came to tell them that the marquis had sent them a dozen partridges, and that he was at the door, not daring to enter as he had just returned from hunting.

Send him in! cried the little marquise. We want to see him in his hunting clothes. He entered a moment later, all apologies for powder marks, sun burn and a dishevelled wig. No, no, said the little marquise. I assure you, we like you better dressed informally like this than in all your finery. If that is so, madame, he replied, next time you will see me dressed as a stoker.

He remained standing, as though about to leave. They made him sit and the marquise, kind soul, told them to sit together while she went to her study to write. The chambermaids knew what was what and withdrew to the dressing-room, leaving the lovers alone together. They were silent for a while. The little marquise, still flustered after her talk with her mother, scarcely dared raise her eyes, and the marquis, even more embarrassed, looked at her and sighed. There was something tender in this silence. The looks they exchanged, the sighs they could not contain, were for them a form of language – a language lovers often use – and their mutual embarrassment seemed to them a sign of love. The little marquise was the first to awake from this reverie.

You’re dreaming, marquis, she said. What of? Hunting? Ah, beautiful marquise, said the marquis, how lucky hunters are! They are not in love. What do you mean? she rejoined. Is being in love really so terrible? Madame, he replied, it is the greatest happiness in life. But unrequited love is the greatest misfortune. I am in love and it is not requited. I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. Venus herself would not dare put herself before her. I love her and she does not love me. She has no feelings. She sees me, she listens to me, and she remains cruelly silent. She even turns her eyes away from mine. How heartless! How can I doubt my fate? As he spoke these last words, the marquis knelt down before the little marquise and kissed her hands – nor did she object. Her eyes were lowered and let fall great tears.

Beautiful marquise, he said, you’re crying. You’re crying and I know the reason for your tears. My love is irksome to you. Ah, marquis, she answered with a heavy sigh, one can cry for joy as well as pain. I’ve never been so happy. She said no more and, stretching out her arms to her beloved marquis, granted him the favours she would have denied all the kings of the earth. Caresses were all the protestations of love they needed. The marquis found in the little marquise’s lips a compliance that her eyes had hidden from him, and this conversation would have lasted longer if the marquise had not emerged from her study. She found them laughing and crying at the same time, and wondered whether such tears had ever needed drying.

The marquis immediately rose to leave, but the marquise said to him pleasantly: Monsieur, won’t you stay and dine on the partridges you brought? He needed little persuading. What he desired more than anything else in the world was to be on familiar terms in this house. He stayed, even though he was dressed in hunting clothes, and had the exquisite pleasure of seeing the girl he loved eat. It is one of life’s chief delights. To watch at close quarters a pink mouth that, as it opens, reveals gums of coral and teeth of alabaster; that opens and closes with the rapidity that accompanies all the actions of youth; to see a beautiful face animated by an often repeated pleasure, and to be experiencing the same pleasure at the same time – this is a privilege love grants to few.

After that happy day the marquis made sure he dined there every night. It was a regular affair and the little marquise’s suitors, who had had no cause to be jealous of one another, took it as settled. She had made her choice and they all admitted that beauty and vanity, however powerful, are no defence against love. The Comte d’****, one of her most ardent admirers, had a keen sense that his passion was being made light of. He was handsome, well built, brave, a soldier: he could not allow the little marquise to give herself to the Marquis de Bercour, whom he considered vastly inferior in every respect to himself. He decided to pick a quarrel with him and so disgrace him, thinking him too effeminate to dare cross swords with him. However, to his great surprise, at the first word he uttered when they met at the Porte des Tuileries, the marquis drew his sword and thrust at him with gusto. After a hard-fought duel they were parted by mutual friends.

This adventure pleased the little marquise. It gave her lover a war-like air, though she trembled for him nevertheless. She saw clearly that her beauty and her preference for him would constantly be exposing him to such encounters, and she said to him one day: Marquis, we must put an end to jealousy once and for all; we must silence gossip. We love one another and always will. We must bind ourselves to one another with ties that only death can break.

Ah, beautiful marquise, he said, what are you thinking of? Does our happiness bore you? Marriage, as a rule, puts an end to pleasure. Let us remain as we are. For my part, I am content with your favours and will never ask you for anything more. But I am not content, said the little marquise. I can see clearly that there is something missing in our happiness, and perhaps we will find it when you belong to me entirely, and I to you. It would not be right, replied the marquis, for you to throw in your lot with a younger son who has spent the bulk of his fortune and whom you still know only by appearances, which are often deceptive.

But that’s just what I love about it, she interrupted. I’m so happy that I have enough money for us both, and to have the chance of showing you that I love you and you alone.

They had reached this point when the Marquise de Banneville interrupted them. She had been closeted with her agents, and thought she would refresh herself with some lively young company, but she found them in a deeply serious mood. The marquis had been greatly put out by the little marquise’s proposal. Ostensibly it was very much to his advantage, but he had secret objections to it, which he considered insurmountable. The little marquise, for her part, was a little annoyed at having taken such a bold step in vain, but she soon recovered, deciding that the marquis had refused out of respect for her – or that he wished to prove the depth of his feelings for her. This thought made her decide to speak to her mother about it, and she did so the following day.

No one was ever more astonished than the Marquise de Banneville when her daughter spoke to her of marriage. She was sixteen and no longer a child. Her eyes had not been opened to her situation, and her mother hoped they never would be. She was careful not to agree to the match, but to reveal the truth would have been a painful solution both for her daughter and the marquis. She resolved to do so only as a last resort. Meanwhile she would prevent, or at least postpone, the marriage. The marquis was in agreement with her on this, but the little marquise – passionate creature that she was – begged, entreated, wept, used every means to persuade her mother. She never doubted her lover, since he did not dare oppose her with the same firmness. Finally she pushed her mother to the point where she said these words to her: My dear child, you leave me no choice: against my better judgement I must reveal to you something that I would have given my life to conceal from you. I loved your poor father and when I lost him so tragically, in dread of your meeting the same fate, I prayed with all my heart for a daughter. I was not so fortunate: I gave birth to a son and I have brought him up as a daughter. His sweetness, his inclinations, his beauty, all assisted my plan. I have a son and the whole world believes I have a daughter. Ah, madame! cried the little marquise, is it possible that I …? Yes, my child, said her mother embracing her, you are a boy. I can see how painful this news must be for you. Habit has given you a different nature. You are used to a life very different from the one you might have led. I wanted you to be happy and would never have revealed the sad truth to you if your obstinacy over the marquis had not forced me to. You see now what you were about to do? How, but for me, you would have exposed yourself to public ridicule?

The little marquise did not answer. Instead she merely wept and in vain her mother said to her: But my child, go on living as you were. Be the beautiful little marquise still – loved, adored by all who see her. Love your beautiful marquis if you like, but do not think of marrying him. Alas! cried the little marquise through her tears, he has asked for nothing more. He flies into a rage when I mention marriage. Ah! Could it be that he knows my secret? If I thought that, dear mother, I would go and hide myself in the furthest corner of the earth. Could he know it? In floods of tears now, she added: Alas, poor little marquise, what will you do? Will you dare show your face again and act the beauty? But what have you said? What have you done? What name can one give the favours you have granted the marquis? Blush! Blush, unhappy girl! Ah, nature you are blind: why did you not warn me of my duty? Alas! I acted in good faith, but now I see the truth and I must behave quite differently in future. I must not think about the man I love – I must do what is right.

She was uttering these words with determination when it was announced that the marquis was at the door of the antechamber. He entered with a happy air and was amazed to see both mother and daughter with lowered eyes and in tears. The mother did not wait for him to speak but rose and went to her room. He took courage and said: What’s the matter, beautiful marquise? If something is distressing you, won’t you share it with your friends? What? You won’t even look at me! Am I the cause of this weeping? Am I to blame without knowing it?

The little marquise dissolved in tears. No! No! she cried. No! That could never be, and if it were so I would not feel as I do. Nature is wise and there is a reason for everything she does.

The marquis had no idea what all this meant. He was asking for an explanation when the marquise, who had recovered a little, left her room and came to her daughter’s aid. Look at her, she said to the marquis. As you see, she is quite beside herself. I am to blame. I tried to stop her but she would have her fortune told, and they said she would never marry the man she loved. That has upset her, Monsieur le Marquis, and you know why.

For my part, madame, he replied, I am not at all upset. Let her remain always as she is. I ask only to see her. I shall be more than happy if she will consider me her best friend.

With this the conversation ended. Emotions had been stirred, and would take time to settle. But they settled so completely that after eight days there was no sign of any upheaval. The marquis’s presence, his charm, his caresses, obliterated from the little marquise’s mind everything her mother had told her. She no longer believed any of it, or rather did not wish to believe. Pleasure triumphed over reflection. She lived as she had done before with her lover and felt her passion increase with such violence that thoughts of a lasting union returned to torment her. Yes, she said to herself, he cannot go back on his word now. He will never desert me. She had resolved to speak of it again, when her mother fell ill. Her illness was so grave that after three days all hope of a cure was abandoned. She made her will and sent for her brother, the councillor, whom she appointed the little marquise’s guardian. He was her uncle and her heir, since all the property came from the mother. She confided to him the truth about her daughter’s birth, begging him to take it seriously and to let her lead a life of innocent pleasure that would harm no one and which, since it precluded her marrying, would guarantee his children a rich inheritance.

The good councillor was delighted at this news and saw his sister die without shedding a tear. The income of thirty thousand francs that she left the little marquise seemed certain to pass to his children, and he had only to encourage his niece’s infatuation for the marquis. He did so with great success, telling her that he would be like a father to her and had no wish to be her guardian except in name.

This sympathetic behaviour consoled the little marquise somewhat – and she was certainly distraught – but the sight of her beloved marquis consoled her even more. She saw that she was absolute mistress of her fate, and her sole aim was to share it with the man she loved. Six months of official mourning passed, after which pleasures of all kinds once again filled her life. She went often to balls, the theatre, the opera, and always in the same company. The marquis never left her side and all her other suitors, seeing that it was a settled affair, had withdrawn. They lived happily and would perhaps have thought of nothing else, if malicious tongues could have left them in peace. Everywhere, people were saying that, while the little marquise was beautiful, since her mother’s death she had lost all sense of decorum: she was seen everywhere with the marquis; he was practically living in her house; he dined there every day and never left before midnight. Her best friends found grounds for censure in this: they sent her anonymous letters and warned her uncle, who spoke to her about it. Finally, things went so far that the little marquise went back to her first idea and decided to marry the marquis. She put this to him forcefully; he resisted likewise, only agreeing on condition that the marriage would be a purely public affair, and that they would live together like brother and sister. This, he said, was how they must always love one another. The little marquise readily agreed. She often remembered what her mother had told her. She spoke of it to her uncle, who began by outlining all the pitfalls of marriage and ended by giving his consent. He saw that, by this means, the income of thirty thousand francs was sure to pass to his family. There was no danger of his niece having children by the Marquis de Bercour whereas, if she did not marry him, her notion that she was a girl might change with time and with her beauty, which was sure to fade. So a wedding day was fixed on, bridal clothes made and the ceremony held at the good uncle’s house. (As guardian he undertook to give the wedding feast.)

The little marquise had never looked as beautiful as she did that day. She wore a dress of black velours completely covered in gems, pink ribbons in her hair and diamond pendants in her ears. The Comtesse d’Alettef, who would always love her, went with her to the church, where the marquis was waiting. He wore a black velours cloak decked with gold braid, his hair was in curls, his face powdered, there were diamond pendants in his ears and beauty spots on his face. In short, he was adorned in such a way that his best friends could not excuse such vanity. The couple were united for ever and everyone showered them with blessings. The banquet was magnificent, the king’s music and the violons were there. At last the hour came and relatives and friends put the couple together in a nuptial bed and embraced them, the men laughing, a few good old aunts weeping.

It was then that the little marquise was astonished to find how cold and insensitive her lover was. He stayed at one end of the bed, sighing and weeping. She approached him tentatively. He did not seem to notice her. Finally, no longer able to endure so painful a state of affairs, she said: What have I done to you, marquis? Don’t you love me any more? Answer me or I shall die, and it will be your fault.

Alas, madame, said the marquis, didn’t I tell you? We were living together happily – you loved me – and now you will hate me. I have deceived you. Come here and see.

So saying he took her hand and placed it on the most beautiful bosom in the world. You see, he said, dissolving in tears, you see I am useless to you: I am a woman like you.

Who could describe here the little marquise’s surprise and delight? At this moment she had no doubt that she was a boy and, throwing herself into the arms of her beloved marquis, she gave him the same surprise, the same delight. They soon made their peace, wondered at their fate – a fate that had brought matters on to such a happy conclusion – and exchanged a thousand vows of undying love.

As for me, said the little marquise, I am too used to being a girl, and I want to remain one all my life. How could I bring myself to wear a man’s hat?

And I, said the marquis, have used a sword more than once without disgracing myself. I’ll tell you about my adventures some day. Let’s continue as we are, then. Beautiful marquise, enjoy all the pleasures of your sex, and I shall enjoy all the freedom of mine.

The day after the wedding they received the usual compliments and, eight days later, left for the provinces, where they still live in one of their châteaux. The uncle should visit them there: he would find, to his surprise, that a beautiful child has resulted from their marriage – one to put paid to his hopes of a rich inheritance.

#Charles Perrault #François-Timoléon De Choisy #genderqueer folktales #trans representation #laura retells #except not really it's more like laura copy pastes this time

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alicemitch09writes · 3 years ago

Text

too much of a good thing

pairing: Suna Rintarou x Reader

summary: It felt like he was in a dream, a hazy, realistic dream.

Lucid dreams, was it?

It felt like he was in a lucid dream.

Because he knows that the life he has now is too good to be true.

Having her with him, together with him, is too much of a good thing in his life.

Crazy how he had to carry all of five years to love this woman one-sidedly, only to have her return his feelings - albeit, slowly - and take his heart for hers in exchange.

Equivalent exchange, was it?

Everyday since she said yes, though, he wonders if he's doing everything right.Is he treating her right? Is she comfortable with him? Is he loving her right? Can she feel how much he's loved her?And more importantly, is she falling for him?

One look.

It'll take just one look into her eyes.

She'll look into his eyes, (e/c) eyes bright and clear, and all worries would fade away.

genre: romance, smut, fluff

author’s notes: I I blame my horny readers at Tumblr. And me, the idiot for falling to their whims. Also, because the idea came to me hard. Hmm

This is a direct sequel to outsider looking in which is part of a series. You or may not read the series, but it's important that you read the mentioned fic before reading this. Otherwise, you'd be lost and confused.

Also, um, what I wrote here is from a smut piece I wrote when I was 16 and I was so in love with Yamamoto Takeshi from Katekyo Hitman Reborn. However, I did write new bits here and there. But wow, reading your past work (that never got published because I was too shy to even share my works, let alone my OC) but awed at my writing.

Also, so much was heavily rewritten because I wrote horny teenagers, Suna and Reader are young adults here. Lastly, please don’t judge me I was so awed, weirded, amazed, yet shocked at how much I had written when I was younger. I faintly remember blushing the whole time I wrote it out. Also, what really fueled me to write this was Frank Ocean’s ‘Ivy’ and then, 'StikwitU' by Pussycat Dolls. Oh, another song that could help, especially for the last part is ‘Somebody to Love’ by Queen.

Shoutout to the amazing anons who wrote drabbles for OLI! The last scene is dedicated to you guys :”>

also available on ao3.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot.

It felt like he was in a dream, a hazy, realistic dream.

Lucid dreams, was it?

It felt like he was in a lucid dream.

Because he knows that the life he has now is too good to be true.

Having her with him, together with him, is too much of a good thing in his life.

Crazy how he had to carry all of five years to love this woman one-sidedly, only to have her return his feelings - albeit, slowly - and take his heart for hers in exchange. Equivalent exchange, was it?

Everyday since she said yes, though, he wonders if he's doing everything right.

Is he treating her right? Is she comfortable with him? Is he loving her right? Can she feel how much he's loved her?

And more importantly, is she falling for him?

One look.

It'll take just one look into her eyes.

She'll look into his eyes, (e/c) eyes bright and clear, and all worries would fade away.

Now, he would be lying if he said that today was making him nervous - real nervous. Because, after long, tedious weeks of training, school work, whatever life throws at them, they finally have a day to themselves. For a date. A real date. Not those casual dates where they'd eat at the nearest convenience store or fast-food restaurant, which she'd frown heavily at (because of the selection of food that is high in salt), straight after practice. No.

This time, after four painstaking months, they had a free weekend.

Suna did not waste any opportunity to ask her out on a date.

Thing was, he was nervous.

Nervous as fuck.

Because this was his first love he was talking about, (L/N) (Y/N), the woman he's been in love with since he was 16!

In a fit of panic, he approached Murase-san, of all people, the best dating spot in Hiroshima, seeing as she's a native of the area. Boy did the woman give the smuggest look, eyes teasing, happily egging on the poor boy. Eventually, she told about Shukkeien Garden, Hiroshima Castle, Hijiyama Park, Hiroshima Museum of Art, excluding the Peace Park out since he's mentioned that they've already visited the place for their class trip back in high school.

Komori, unintentionally hearing and seeing the way his teammate seemed out of it, gave some helpful tips.

"Just be yourself, man!" he grinned. "And have fun!"

Washio quickly shushed him, seeing (Y/N) and Murase-san enter the gymnasium. The latter met his gaze, winked playfully.

"Good luck man," Washio patted his shoulder.

Saturday was the day.

Sun was out and bright, skies were blue, the weather overall was generally favorable. So much so that the city was bustling.

Busy for a weekend.

Weekenders probably making the most out of it, like they were.

Deep breaths, he thought to himself, deep breaths.

First, Suna picked her up at the station so they could go to the heart of Hiroshima.

Throughout the ride, Suna was plagued with thoughts, safely tucking her to his side on the train and off it. Side by side, they walked down the busy city with all the weekenders around them and the occasional tourist here and there.

Anxiety roused him at every time, supremely conscious that this was finally happening, that she was finally here with him, all this was happening right now.

What did Komori say again? Be yourself and have fun? Easier said than done.

Something takes hold of his hand, smaller, gentler. He looks down, meeting (e/c), breath hitching at how the sun shines down at her.

"Are you alright?"

Swallowing, he nods.

Cocking her head, sunlight glinting off from her pearl studs and piercing, she looks unconvinced. "Are you sure?" she squeezes their hands, expression softens to worry.

Four months dating. That was something.

After years of pining after her, years of yearning, here they were now.

He remembered telling her that he's loved her since he was 16, remember how she sweetly came up to him, wrapped her arms around him, kissed his chest, and stared at him with all the love in the world. She was the only person who knew what it was like to be in unrequited love, except his was well-hidden and hers was harshly thrown out. Remembered how she was the first one to hold his hand in hers, uncaring how clammy and calloused they were from a day of practice. Remembered the first time he met her all those years ago as an outsider in Hyogo.

Feeling himself relax, he squeezed her hand back, smiling truly.

"I am now,"

Things like this can't be rushed, it takes time - painstakingly long or short. But hey, he was willing.

Baby steps, he reminds himself.

He flicks his eyes towards her and smiles, mirroring her own expression, her own happiness.

Tucking her aside, letting people freely walk past them, he allows himself to bask in her glow.

"By the way, I forgot to say this," tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, holding her feels like he's holding her favorite flower "but you look really pretty."

His most precious little sunflower.

Immediately, her face darkened, head ducking to avoid his eyes. Laughing, he chased after her eyes, laughing harder when she was, too.

She was dressed in a buttoned-up dress with sunflower prints, a gift from her family, and sandals. On the other hand, Suna wore a simple long-sleeved buttoned-up, with sleeves folded neatly to his elbows, with some loafers. Picture perfect. How could she not look any perfect?

The rest of their date goes swimmingly well.

He always knew she had a penchant for flowers, remembering her eyes lit up when their bus passed by Ono city, her whole face brightening when their juniors gifted her a bouquet of sunflowers for her birthday and gave her a sunflower frame during their graduation. Basking in silence, the two walked around the Shukkeien Gardens appreciating the flowers all around them, the beautifully structured garden felt as though they had traveled back through time.

More often than not, he found himself reaching for his phone to capture her - something she didn't notice until he told her to walk ahead at the Rainbow bridge. She had blushed profusely before retaliating with her own phone, and the two were having an impromptu photo war.

Eventually, a caretaker saw them and asked if they wanted a photo together, which they did by the pavilion.

Adjacent to the garden was the Hiroshima Art Museum.

Call him a snob, but all the stuff in that place was nothing compared to the woman beside him, who wrapped her arm around his shoulder, telling him bits about the art on display. He'd listen, but wouldn't care about the art, he just liked hearing the sound of her voice.

Together, they left for lunch to Okonomi-mura, where both laughed at how different the okonomiyaki was compared to the one they're used to back in Hyogo.

Each time he turns to her, it feels like he's entered a new dimension and paid witness to a new being, but it was just her. Like a Pokemon, she's evolved, shinier, brighter, newer, and polished.

He's always taught the old her was cute, but this new her? It was beautiful.

To think that people think her a downgrade version of her sister? What a joke.

They've missed out then.

Even then, though, she's had a fair share of admirers - there was that one asshat from Nigawa Gakuin, Kageyama Tobio pleasantly surprised him, especially with the way he stared hard at her, then there was his captain, too, not to mention the twins. Of course, it was obligatory for best friends to think that their best friend was good-looking, especially if you grew up with them. However, whereas Osamu saw her like a sister would, Atsumu stared as though he was seeing a flower bloom for the first time.

Everyone else? They sucked.

But it's okay, at least he has her.

Leaning his head against his palm, her hand in hers over their table, he can't find himself to look away from her.

"You've been staring at me all day."

Mesmerized, taken, just plain awe that he could call her his.

"Is it bothering you?"

"No, it's just..." she stutters out, unable to find herself replying. Suna laughs, lifting her hand to his, pressing a kiss.

"Can't help it. I've been looking forward to this date all week."

When their food arrived, quietly, he heard her reply. "Me, too."

All things considered, it was a good date.

Without much of a plan on how to end the date – and to be quite honestly, he didn’t want it to end – they ended up at his apartment since it was closest. It was a pretty wide nondescript apartment he's had over two years now, with a lease under his name.

Embarrassingly enough, there really isn’t much to his place yet – just the standard furniture that came with the place. Anything else, to give it a personal touch? Nothing.

Yet, the only thing (Y/N) said after stepping in was that, “It looks comfortable.” And you know what? That’s enough for him, a sort of approval from his girlfriend.

Also, cut him some slack, he isn’t a slob!

On the way to his place, she suggested that she cooked him dinner. When asked what he would like, he blurted out pasta.

Together, they shopped for the ingredients at the supermarket – him, holding the bags, while she selected. She was quite meticulous with her selection, noting with interest how she chose items that were of high quality and reasonably priced.

Reaching the frozen section, Suna couldn’t help himself and grabbed a pack of chuupets.

Imagine, a 191-cm pro-athlete making a dash for frozen fruit jellies.

Suna wasn’t usually ashamed, no, but he remembered who he was with and flushed. (Y/N) laughed, taking the pack from his hands and placing it in with the rest. He brightened at that.

“It is a weekend after all, why not cheat your diet?” he wanted to kiss her so bad. “But you’ll have to make up for it during practice, okay?” he still wants to kiss her. Grueling workouts, laboring hours during practices be damned, it was worth it.

It was only once that he saw her cooking back in high school, with Osamu beside her. In that one instance, he saw a domestic side to her that unsurprisingly fit well for someone like her, doing something so ordinary in an unordinary way.

Right now, it seemed unbelievable that he was seeing the same thing but in his very own kitchen.

A kitchen, which, “…you’ve barely used, I presume?” she says.

Raising his hands in surrender, he did reason out that he does make himself breakfast but that’s about it. He’s lucky that there’s restaurants near the gym all the way to his apartment, he at least has options. Though, he’s not sure (Y/N) would approve of such.

Humming, he drummed his fingers against the countertop. “Perhaps you’d like to make use of it?” he suggests. He gets a frown from her, he shrugs in response. “Worth a shot.”

“Your apartment is 45 minutes away from mine. Plus, my dorm is closer to the university.”

He hums again, leaning on his folded arms, eyes watching her work around the kitchen – having already boiled the pasta, sliced the garlic, peeled the shrimp, and opened the can (Suna helped with last two, thank you very much).

Loneliness was a feeling he rarely wanted to address, especially having a history of moving places for the sake of his dreams, grateful to have such amazing and supportive parents. However, in the process of chasing his dreams, he couldn’t escape the feeling. Honestly, he doesn’t mind it, perfectly content to have his own space.

But now, taking in the sight of his girlfriend freely making use of his kitchen, he didn’t feel so lonely. Having her around was familiar and easy, even if it were her first time in his apartment.

On instinct, he took out his phone, unlocked it, opened the camera app, and snapped a photo. Some photos. (Y/N) was too preoccupied with cooking to even be bothered.

Tapping, the photo comes on screen, he can’t help smiling at how domesticated she looks, how relaxed she was, how familiar the sight of her was in his kitchen, her. Checking his gallery and he was met with even more photos of her, mostly candid, mostly selfies, mostly of their linked hands together.

Suna was half-tempted to upload photos on his SNS, to let the world know of his amazing girlfriend of four months. Instead, he locked his phone and pocketed it away.

As much as he loved her, he just wasn't ready to tell everyone - who wasn't in Hiroshima, about them just yet.

It's not that she's ashamed of her – fuck no, for in fact, he thinks of the world of her! There's no greater joy than to have, to hold her, and call her his.

It's just that, he just wanted to have this – just them, together, before they tell everyone. Something theirs.

Relationships shouldn't always have to be broadcasted, and he would very much want her to be protected by people who would think badly of her, considering that she's his manager and all. Sure, their PR team would have a field day working things out, but all things considered, he just wanted privacy regarding his personal life.

"But we should tell our families though," she tells him over a plate of marinara pasta.

Even she agreed to the notion, having considered the consequences since they started dating.

Nodding, he twists his fork. "Then everyone else?"

"Then everyone else."

He nods at that, taking a bite of his dinner – sweet, sour pasta melting in his tongue.

“You can cryptic about who you’re dating, though.” She suggests, taking a bite out of her shrimp.

“Cryptic?”

“Well, since you’ve been taking a lot of photos of me,” Suna smiles, she continues with a slight shake of her head. “you can use some that don’t have my face or just hide it by putting an emoji over it.”

Reaching his glass, he hums over the idea as he takes a sip. “You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind,” she confirms.

“Okay then.”

Of all the photos he’s taken from today, he settles for a photo of their linked hands. He shows it to her, for deliberation.

“Where did you take this?”

“Probably when we were in Shukkeien?”

Huffing, she stares at the photo – longingly, adoringly, one more time before giving her approval. “It has a certain aesthetic to it. Mystery, too.”

Suna writes a simple, cryptic caption, shows it to her for approval before uploading it. At the same time, she quickly takes out her phone to inform Murase-san and Sugita-san (head of the team’s PR Department) of Suna’s post. Scarily, the two replied after a few minutes, offering their congratulations and reassurance.

After dinner, Suna unabashedly took out the chuupet excitedly taking one from the packet and handing (Y/N) a piece.

“It’s adorable that you’re this giddy and excited when it comes to chuupets,” she laughs.

He shrugs. “Can’t help it, they’re good!”

“And high in sugar,” she interjects, a brow raised.

“Cheat day, remember?”

Rolling her eyes, the two of them walk off to the living room, chuupets in hand, Suna telling her of the many memories he’s had associated with the sweet, frozen treat, the many flavors he’s tried, loved, and hated, the days he’d eat a whole pack because he wanted to – to which, her expression crumpled, because of the diarrhea he must’ve suffered after that.

“Boo, stop trying to slander chuupets!”

“I’m surprised you know how to use ‘slander’ in a sentence,” she teased, giggling at his narrowed eyes.

“Cut me some slack here, (Y/N).”

“My case still stands: they’re high in sugar, favorite treat of yours or not.”

Suna readied a retaliation, against chicken noodle soup – only to come up short, because damn it, it’s just as delicious as chuupets, just hotter, and healthier comparably.

As though reading his thoughts, (Y/N) shrugged, victorious.

Tossing his empty chuupet packet behind him, he tackles her into a tickle.

She shrieks, unable to escape, falling backwards, laughing all around underneath him.

“R-Riiiiiin!”

Suna continues to tickle her without mercy, laughing himself.

“N-Not…f-fairrrrrrrr!”

Tickling her some more, writhing around, her laughter fills out the room, bringing life to the desolate area he calls his.

“Riiiiiin!!!! S-Stop!!!”

Eventually he stops, having mercy on her, letting her catch her breath, face completely flushed from all the laughing. Her laughter’s died down, she’s a bit of a mess from her laughing fit, but to Suna? He swallows down hard.

Suna’s throat dries at the sight of her, his mischievous smile replaced with wonder.

To think that this is the girl that he’s been dreaming of since he was 16, was now his after 5 years of quiet pining.

Never has he seen such a beautiful sight – a flushed, mussed hair, and all smiles, his. All his.

Finally his.

He kissed her, taking her completely by surprise.

She tasted like oranges, sweet, sweet, addicting oranges.

This was by no means their first kiss – that had been a month after they started dating, he had walked her to her university and received a soft peck on the lips. It came out of nowhere – an innocent press, just like this one, but it was everything.

He parted, his gray-yellow eyes hazy meeting her (e/c) equally hazy ones, the laughter from earlier gone, filled only with him.

All she could see was him.

Stunned brought by the kiss, their eyes were searching the other, taking the other in, seeing nobody but each other, losing in the peripherals, the depths of their gaze, their lips tingling, aching.

It was just one kiss.

Yet it was all it took.

Lifting her head, her lips pressed against his. Sitting up, he cradled her head, another hand on her back to guide her, letting her straddle his lap, mouths never separating, the kiss getting more and more heated. It was...amazing. So amazing.

He didn't want the kiss to end, didn’t want this to end.

Something was burning deep inside him, wanting more, seeking more, demanding more.

They parted, for a breath, before he dove for those lips again, swallowing her whimpers. His hands began to run through her body, feeling her shape and curve, drawing her body closer, nearer, canting his hip upwards. (Y/N) squealed.

Blood rushed through his veins like hot lava, high sensations running around him, her scent driving him crazy, a deep carnal pleasure burned inside him ready to take her whole.

Abruptly, he pulled away, panting hard.

"Rin?"

He shook his head, shyly lifting his head to meet hers. Worriedly, she brushed his bangs away.

"I'm sorry."

Smiling, she falls against him, tucking her head on the crook of his shoulder. "I don't mind," pressed up against him, she could feel his heart, thundering wildly, same as hers. She didn't see the way his eyes widened, shocked, but the feel of his heart was telling.

Sliding her hands up, feeling hardened muscles underneath his shirt, fingering at the buttons. "...i-if you want to take me," the notion should scare her, heck, she was shaking! But at the same time, the very idea was intriguing, exciting, igniting something within her. "taste me..." twisting her head, he meets her eyes, swallowing at what clouded over. "all of me."

She wanted nothing more but to unravel, both of them, to each other.

Suna swallowed thickly.

He saw love.

And lust.

God, he loved her.

That feeling came back again, burning hotter than before, fueling his desires, encouraging him, and his carefully kept patience snapped.

Before he could stop himself, he snaked an arms around her waist and lifted her face with his forefinger and thumb and leaned it. The kiss started out slow, and then it suddenly grew fierce as they both leaned in to each other giving more of them.

(Y/N) slowly closed her eyes, wanting to feel his kiss. Suna did the same while running his hands around her, feeling every curve of her small body.

Her lips were warm and soft, relishing more and more, addicting.

He was making her feel good; he knew that when he felt her heartbeat against his chest. And when he slid in his tongue, she moaned sensually. Timidly, she met his tongue and engaged into a slippery battle for dominance. Lungs burning for air, they parted, a string of saliva connecting them, before leaning in again.

He was getting hard at this, but he can’t help it, it felt so good kissing her and for her to kiss him back. He’s always dreamed of this, kissing her.

Pulling her legs around him, bringing her impossibly closer, she felt his hard-on against his pants. She gasped at this, breaking the kiss, gasped again when his lips began to trail down her neck.

“Rin…” she gripped at his hair. She leaned her head back, granting him more access to her neck.

Just hearing her moan his name turned him on, making the blood rise to his face. He left wet trails down her neck, traced her jaw with his lips, nibbled on her collarbone, lapped his tongue on the crook of her neck, left open mouth kisses where her neck and shoulder met, causing (Y/N) to gyrate against him with a moan breaking out of her throat.

Lifting her easily, he stood up, hooking her legs around his hips, before pinning her against the wall. She moaned even more, feeling his hard-on against her panties. Whimpering at the agonizing sensation of him brushing against her.

Hooking her ankles together, (Y/N) dragged Suna’s head up for a kiss. The kiss was slow and deep, it took his breath away.

Suna nibbled at her lower lip; a groan reverberated from her throat.

She gripped a fistful of his hair, the other, running down his body, feeling his strong muscles. He was fit, so very fit.

He, too, had run his hands around her, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his rough fingers. He noticed, as he massaged her hips, that she had bucked her hips against his, as a response to his touch.

Without meaning to, he had unbuttoned the first three buttons of her dress – she looked positively beautiful in it all day, but the damn thing was teasing him, too!

Granting him access to her bosom. (Y/N) bucked once again, a cry breaking out of her mouth. Her grip tightened every time his tongue lapped or nipped against her skin, she was sure he was leaving a mark or two.

Every time he bit or sucked, she would gyrate her hips towards him, causing friction. He groaned every time, and she would respond with a whimper. He was especially hard, and it felt good having him rub on her.

Momentarily, he tore away to have a look at her. She was a sight to behold – unbuttoned top of her dress, exposing her lacey bra, her (h/c) hair tumbled down her shoulders, her face was flushed from the excessive passion, her pinkish lips were swollen, and her eyes, those beautiful (e/c) eyes, were laced with so much emotion – desire, affection, and wanton need. He felt himself harden, felt the fires burn even more.

“R-Rin…” she whispered, reaching out to touch his face.

At the feel of her hand against his cheeks, his eyes fell shut. Retrieving his hands from her hips, he took her hands in his, bringing them to his lips, gently kissing each digit.

(Y/N) felt hot at the sight of this, especially the way his gray-yellow eyes glazed at hers. She smiled gently, making his heart melt.

Seriously, does she have any idea how much she meant to him?

Hooking her arms around his neck, she brought him near, their lips barely touched when she whispered, “I love you, Rintarou.” Before initiating a kiss of her own.

Her lips, those sinfully soft sweet lips, coaxing his, intoxicated him.

How many times has he dreamed of this? Kissing her? More than a million times, maybe. Every time their lips would meet felt like heaven, he didn’t want to stop, just wanted to keep going forever.

They were in his room before they knew it. His lips never left hers, like they could never get enough. It was a wonder how they made it to his room, without breaking anything valuable.

He tore away to unbutton the upper part of her dress down to her belly, straps falling off her shoulders and threatening to slip off her body.

She didn’t have enough time to unbutton his shirt before she found herself falling against her bed, her hair splaying everywhere.

She was definitely a sight to see – all flushed, barely clothed torso, and her skirt showed just a bit of skin.

Down below, his was definitely getting hard that it was hard not to notice. He knew that she knew it.

Suna swooped down, taking her sweet soft lips, teeth occasionally bumping, unable to help the giggles escaping their mouths.

Slowly, with trembling fingers, she started to unbutton his shirt as their kisses deepened. His tongue slipped in again, meeting hers, tangling into a heated battle. It wasn’t long before he began sucking her tongue, to (Y/N), it felt like he was sucking the life out of her. With every unbutton, she felt his firm body against her fingertips, making her wonder how often he works out. Years of athletics have paid off, but he was quite the picky eater from high school until today unless she forced him to eat.

When she reached the last of his button, she tried to have it off him. But because they were drowned into their kiss, the action seemed impossible. She whined, attempting again and again.

Sensing her dilemma, Suna chuckled, kissing her long and hard before he broke from their kiss to sit up, setting to take off his shirt himself.

(Y/N) bit her lip as she watched him strip, her cheeks burning. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, his firm strong body slowly presenting itself. Again, she had to wonder how often does he work out? How many times has she ogled at his body during practices, taking in the sight of her 191-cm pro-athlete boyfriend.

Sitting up, (Y/N) stared at his body. Suna watched her, curiously in turn.

Tentatively, she reached out a hand to touch him. Her fingers splayed against his chest, she heard him groan. Slowly, she runs them down his torso, watching in fascination at the fine contours of his body.

Suna was slightly tan now, thanks to all the sun. His body was smooth, refined, thanks to all the training, she thought as her hand stopped by his navel, her knuckles tickling him.

He didn’t make a move just yet, instead, watched her in heated interest.

She inched closer, their knees touching, and ran her hands to his back. He groaned when he felt the fabric of her bra touching his chest, a delicious feeling ran through his veins when their fleshes touched.

She was hugging him, her hands running down his smooth back. (Y/N) timidly leaned in, pressing her lips against his strong shoulders, and just held him tight. In their warm embrace, did both their hearts come to a calm, their beating synchronizing. Then he felt her slightly tremble, Suna held her back, leaning towards her.

“Do you want this?” he whispered against her ear.

The heat from his voice made her flinch; nevertheless, she didn’t shy away. She gave a single nod as her response.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, despite having come this far, his mouth taking in her earlobe.

(Y/N) gasped, her breath hitching.

“A-Ah, R-Rin-“

“Answer me properly, (Y/N).”

One hand held unto his hips, the other to the back of his neck, playing with the strands of hair, as if encouraging him. Elsewhere, Suna’s hands were busy fondling her.

“Do you want this?” he asked again, hotly against her ear.

Unable to take his own teasing of her, Suna tucked her jaw with his forefinger and thumb, lifting her face to meet his.

“(Y/N)…”

“Yes.” She said breathlessly, instantly. “Take me, Rintarou.”

And that was it.

The ‘go’ signal.

He swooped down, claiming her lips into a searing kiss, landing unto the bed with a soft thud, pinning her hands above her head, settling himself between her legs.

Both of them poured everything into their kiss – the years Suna spent hopelessly pining, (Y/N) opening herself up and realizing how amazing it is to feel loved – making each kiss addicting and impossible to break. It seemed as though they could never tire of each other’s kiss.

Soon enough, Suna’s lips parted from hers. He looked down at her face, her beautiful face.

He caressed it, then leaned down to kiss her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, each kiss, made her adored, loved. Her fingers tangled themselves against his hair as he began kissing her neck and beyond.

She felt his warm pads behind her, reaching for something, soon realizing it to be the clip of her bra. She would’ve helped him, but he seems to have the work done before she could suggest help.

The tips of her buds were already hard before she felt the breeze biting. (Y/N) felt embarrassed, having to show her breasts to him, especially him. She shyly looked up at him, finding an unnamed expression on his face.

His long fingers brushed against the swell of her breasts, making her whine. Her eyes glazed up to him. Carefully, he cupped her breasts, and he can’t help but compare them to marshmallows, seeing how soft they were. (Y/N) whimpered, leaning against him, undeniably liking his touch. The action encouraged him. He bent down and took her breast into his mouth, eliciting a moan from her. With his other hand, he massaged her other breast, giving it the same attention and treatment.

It was too much, she can’t take it anymore. But at the same time, she can’t deny how much she likes this.

Releasing her nipple with a wet pop, he busied himself with the other breast. She whined, feeling pleasurable heat throughout her body.

Accidentally, he bit down, causing (Y/N) to jerk against his body.

“R-Riiiin…” she gasped.

He looked up to her, looking at the pleasure contorting her face. He rather liked it.

Feeling his gaze, she looked down, only to find him trailing his lips downwards, his kisses burning. Her brows furrowed together. Breathlessly, just as she was to wonder what he was doing, a cry broke out her throat when she felt his hands there.

Running around her most intimate, circling around, her breath hitching, feeling his kisses lower.

Oh.

He was going to-

She cried again when he palmed his whole hand over her covered sex.

(Y/N) sure was sensitive, he thought to himself.

Hands resting on her hips, holding her down, massaging the smooth skin while he dragged his nose down towards the apex of her thighs. (Y/N)'s breath sharply hitched just as the tip of his nose pressed against her.

Yep, (Y/N) was sensitive alright, he thought to himself again.

One waft, and he could smell just how turned on she was the whole time, could imagine how wet she was.

Unbuttoning the rest of the buttons, the dress was finally off, he leaned down, his nose brushing against her sex, and smelled her. (Y/N)'s reaction was bucking her hips against his face, he chuckled. Encouraged, he began kissing her thighs towards her hipbones and slowly kissed her there, against the fabric of her panties.

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut, yelping out Suna’s name.

Even against the fabric, he was practically eating her up.

He looked up from his spot, finally meeting her equally glazed eyes.

It was as if he was seeking permission.

And because she was so caught up in this wanton need of hers, unfamiliar with the new yet exciting sensation, wanting him to touch her more, she gave a single nod.

Hooking her panties, he slid them off her smooth legs.

Now with everything gone, leaving her completely exposed, was he really eating her up. Devouring, more likely.

She cried out his name, like a litany. Toes curling, back arching, her hands gripped unto the sheets like her life depended on them. His hands met hers, slowly intertwining them together. With every lap of his tongue, her grip on him tightened.

She arched her back up higher, the pleasure building up. Her eyes rolled back, and she could almost see heaven. He seemed to be in a race for something because soon enough, she orgasmed against his mouth, hot drippings against his mouth. And he was there to hungrily lick them off her.

Tiredly, she splayed her arms to her sides, while trying to catch her breathe. Blearily, she cracked one eye open, in time to see Suna unzipping his pants. Both eyes were open in an instant.

She watched as he slipped off his pants and boxers, exposing his manhood.

She gulped down, unable to look away. Her cheeks had never felt hotter.

He was…huge.

Tentatively, she reached a hand to touch, Suna swallowed thickly.

She let out a soft gasp, taking him in her hands.

“Rin, you’re huge.”

He groaned, remembering the many nights he’s dreamed of her saying it, his late-night fantasies, followed by the awkward mornings he nonchalantly played off as he worked extra during practice. Only now, his dream was about to be a reality.

“(Y/N),” he gasped. “t-touch me…”

Never had he imagined that he’d say those words to her.

Neither did he expect to feel her hands on him, taking him whole in her hand, grip gentle. Groaning at the back of his throat, she took it as a cue to stroke him a few times. Experimentally, she twisted her arms, tightening her hold which caused him to suck on a breath, her name coming out like a litany.

Suddenly, she got to her knees and lowered herself to him.

“(Y-Y/N)-“

And then, she took him in her mouth.

Never had he expected her to comply.

Suna let out a deep groan, feeling her hot mouth take him in, watching her lips stretch out around his cock, the sight of her felt like it was fresh out of his late-night fantasies.

It was mesmerizing to watch (Y/N) sucking him, her lips on him, mouth hollowed, her fingers massaging what she can’t fit in her mouth.

She wasn’t kidding when she said he was big, trying her best not to choke on him. Her tongue lapped around his bulbous head, making sure to suck just as hard as he did earlier. At the sound of her name, (e/c) eyes looked up to meet gray-yellow, humming in delight.

Shakily, he reached out to her head, tucking strands away from her face, holding her head back as she bobbed her head. Hisses leaving his mouth as he felt something in him pick up, realizing then that this was probably payback for eating her out earlier.

As much as he wanted to finish in her, he had other plans.

Forcing her mouth off him, letting out a loud, lewd wet ‘pop’, (Y/N) looked up to him, sitting back up and about to ask, when she finds a dark expression on his face – so full of euphoria, hunger.

Embarrassed, she had to look away.

That expression seemed to mirror hers, the wanton need, the desire, only now did she feel shy of her lustrous desires with Suna, and she felt ashamed of herself.

Ashamed and needy. Never had she felt so wanted by someone.

“(Y/N)…” called Suna, in that tone – that worrisome tone.

But she didn’t look up, was too shy to.

The bed creaked, and he was closer, could feel him breathing against her, could feel the heat off him.

Gently, he cupped her face in his hands. “(Y/N)…”

She met his intense gaze, marred with so much emotion.

There was so much – devotion, loyalty, adoration, desire, wanton need, and love. So much love, so, so much. Love, tugged her the most.

It reminded her of the previous months they’ve had together, his impeccable patience, his understanding, his gentle gaze, the look in his eyes after their first kiss, followed by countless others.

Her eyesight blurred, how can she be so selfish? She’s not the only one who wants this, so does he!

“I love you…” she whispered, a silent apology, a silent promise.

He smiled. “I love you too,” he whispered back, accepting her apology, returning her promise.

Carefully, he set her down, like she was made of glass, how she loved him for that. He set his hands on either side of her head, taking deep breathes as he aligned himself to her. He was nervous, too.

Suna looked up to her. This time, she smiled.

Hooking her arms around him, she brought him close, rested his forehead against hers. “Take me, Rin.”

Nervously swallowing, he nodded.

Then he pushes in.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Gently.

A shudder ran down his spine, knocking the air out of him when he was fully inside her. She choked on her breath; tears leaked into her eyes at the pain. Panicked, Suna was quick to kiss them away, cupping her cheeks.

“(Y/N)-“

“G-Go,” she choked, eyes clenched shut.

So he did.

And it felt so fucking good.

Slowly breaking through her walls, filling her with his warmth, he felt her velvety warmth around him. Dizzying and maddening.

He gently rocked in and out of her, finding a rhythm. As the pain subsided, (Y/N) bucked her hips to his, pleading with a whimper, meeting his thrust.

Encouraged, he pulled out and drove back in, wanting to be closer. Closer.

It was fulfillment, it was joy, it was heaven.

Strangled noises escaped their mouths as they moved along, thrust for thrust.

(Y/N) buried herself against the crook of his neck, one hand carded through his sweaty hair, the other on his back to keep herself grounded. Nails digging through his shoulders, his scalp, feeling him deeper and deeper inside him.

Desperately, he sought for her lips, tasting each other before swallowing her cries of pleasure. She swallowed him as her nails ran down his back.

Breaking away from the kiss, he busied himself with her neck as he kept his pace. Underneath him, (Y/N) had bit down on his shoulder from too much pleasure. He hissed, but kept himself going.

He kept up his pace, but not long before he sped up.

Feeling his self-control slip, Suna thinks that he’s gone mad as he drove into her mercilessly, her cries getting louder and louder. Animalistic hunger taking over as her cries fueled him to take her more and more, especially when (Y/N) tugged at his hair, bringing him to her. Against her ear, he whispered sweet nothings as his pace quickened up.

His brows furrowed as he felt himself sink deeper into her walls, feeling her walls against him, practically sucking him in.

Taking her leg, he gave it a quick press before letting it hang against his shoulder, feeling himself hit even deeper. Falling back against the bed, her hands held on to the pillows, toes curling, muscles tightening caught in euphoria.

Such a lovely sight, he thought, bringing himself closer and closer.

Her eyes, he wants to see her eyes.

Leaning his forehead against hers, he sighed her name. “(Y-Y/N)…” he gasped this time, drunk on pleasure. “e-eyes…” he was so drunk on pleasure, struggling to get the words out. “…w-wanna see them.”

Slowly, her eyes peeled opened, brilliant (e/c) glazed with lust and love. For him. All for him.

That’s all he’ll ever need – those (e/c) eyes on him, grounding him right here, in this moment. He allowed this moment for a second, feeling himself choke up from the overwhelming love he’s had for her for so long.

God, he fucking loved her so much.

Letting out a shaky exhale, he allowed himself to breathe, to collect his thoughts, before diving into those inviting lips of hers, pouring everything – every ounce of fear he’s had losing her, every agony of him pining for all those years, every worry he’s had since she agreed to dating him, everything that was everything to show that what he felt for her was sincere, was true.

“Baby,” he called, forehead against hers, vision going blurry from the edges. “open your eyes.”

Brilliant (e/c) eyes opened for him once more, a moan escaping her mouth from him pulsating inside her. “R-Rin-“

“I know, baby, I know. Don’t worry,” he pulled out by the hilt, before driving himself back in, watching her arch her back off his bed. “I’ve got you.”

More than anything, Suna was in cloud nine, in a brand new high because of their union. It’s everything he’s wanted and more.

Pushing her hair back, he smiled down at her fondly, whispering against her lips.

“…I love you so much.”

He woke up to calm.

It felt like one of those mornings.

But this morning was different.

Because the first thing he saw when he woke up was her – (Y/N), flushed and naked, in his arms.

The room was heavily tainted with the smell and heat of sex.

They didn’t know how long they went on, how many times he took her, but one thing’s for sure - the two will never be the same again. And that was a good thing.

Lazily, he smiled.

Inching himself closer to her, he began admiring the sleeping beauty before him. Delighting in the peaceful expression on her usually straight face, admiring her special features that separated her from the rest, the marks decorating her skin – the action was creepy, but he didn’t care.

He enjoyed himself watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the soft snores escaping her slightly parted mouth. Really, she was so beautiful. If only she knew.

Gently, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, before caressing her. She moved slightly, he worried he might have awakened her. But (Y/N) merely sighed against his touch.

He smiled despite himself.

He looked down again at the sleeping beauty.

She’s been through a lot, heartaches, disappointment, loneliness, and pain. It hurt him to hear everything she’s been through by herself, needing to power through for the sake of her family and friends. This time, he was here. Now, it’s his turn. From the moment she came back to his life, he had sworn to protect her. He would always protect her, no matter what.

He would never let anything bad happen to her, he’d have to die first before that would happen.

He was happy to have protected her.

He was happy just as long as she had that smile on her face.

He was happy when their feelings had been mutual, even under the circumstances.

Very carefully, he reached for his phone from his discarded jeans and took an after sex selfie, taking a few photos of (Y/N), looking like a sweet fallen angel.

His sweet, fallen angel.

Tossing his phone aside, ever so carefully wrapping his arms around her, he closed his eyes, allowed her scent to comfort him as he held her tight.

And now, nothing could part them, not while he was still breathing.

She felt lightheaded when she woke up.

Blearily, she pealed one eye open, Suna’s chest the first thing she sees.

For a moment, she inwardly panicked, but when she remembered – with a terrible blush – last night’s passion, she came to calm.

She noticed that he had wrapped his arms securely around her, likening to a vine. Also, that they were naked. She blushed tremendously.

Flesh against flesh, how…delicious.

Tentatively, she looked up to him, watching his sleeping figure. He looked child-like, relaxed, peaceful, a very far cry from the Suna now who was a deadpan, sly pro-league athlete.

Lifting her hand from her sheets, she reached out to play with his hair. Chuckling quietly when his expression contorted, really, he sure was a heavy sleeper.

Leaving his hair alone, her fingers trailed down to trace his handsome face, his sharp jaw, until she paused at his lips. Those sinful lips. She felt them on hers, all over her. A tremendous flush crept across her face at the memory.

Inching closer, she rested against her side and watched in curiosity. Using her thumb, she traced his lips, feeling its smoothness against her pads.

Those lips, seemed so inviting.

She remembered those times before, way before they realized the extent of their feelings for each other, how close they were to kissing. Those innocent times, she smiled at the memory.

Drawn by how inviting they were, she couldn’t help herself. But not wanting to disrupt his sleep, she leaned in gently, pressing the lightest of kiss to his lips.

She barely parted, their nose touching, when she whispered, “I love you, Rintarou.”

One minute, she was stealing a kiss from the sleeping man. The next, her lips were captured into, what seemed to be, a lazy morning kiss. She didn’t have time to react as his hand cupped her head and wrapped around her naked waist.

Though taken by surprise, she found herself kissing him back, resting her hands on his strong shoulders.

He chuckled against their kiss.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” He greeted huskily, breathlessly.

Flushed and dazed from their kiss, she greeted back, equally breathless, “Good morning to you too, Rin.”

“How are you?” he asked, rolling their positions, so she was beneath him.

“Fine, happy, contented…” she admitted, rubbing her hands along his arms. “…sore.”

He smirked at the last one.

“Yeah, well…sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, seemingly aware of the renewed burning passion in his eyes.

“We both wanted it, right?” he was but a hairsbreadth away from her, not that she seemed to mind.

“Right,” he whispered as he pecked her cheek, slowly peppering her with kisses along her face, and down her neck.

(Y/N) sighed contentedly, tangling her fingers on his hair.

“How about," she gasped at his light nip "you?”

Sucking on a certain patch of skin, (Y/N) voice broke into a whimper, much to his delight.

“I’m just as happy and contented as you are,”

She smiled. “I’m glad.”

He returned the smile, before lowering to take one of her breasts into his mouth, eliciting a deep moan from her.

Suddenly, someone’s phone rang, and he broke away with a wet pop.

They glanced at each other, her eyes were glazed. (Y/N) set out to search for the phone, but was stopped as Suna took both hands, pinned them to her side, and took her lips in his.

Their fingers intertwined as they kissed, to the sound of the ringing. Parting her mouth to invite his tongue in, deepening the kiss.

Once the ringing stopped, it took a while before they parted.

“It could be important,” she told him, whispering.

“This is more important,” he told her.

She laughed, freeing one hand, smacking him gently in the face. He took her hand and kissed the back of her hand.

“What time is it, anyway?” she asked curiously.

Suna leaned over his shoulder, reading the clock.

“Ten past twelve.”

“How long have we been asleep?” she asked, alarmed.

He laughed, his chest reverberating. “Does it matter?”

A dark look crossed his face as he loomed over her, his lean torso in sight, making her flush hard. "It's our day off."

“R-Rin!”

He laughed again, not long before he swooped his arms around her, drawing her to him.

She smashed against his hard chest; his nose was against her hair, a heat stirred up when their bare flesh touched each other under the sheets. She was sure she was as red as a tomato.

“Rin…?” he was sniffing her hair, she noted, while running his hand down her hair, to which she found comforting.

“God, I love you.” He whispered, hugging her tight. “So much.”

Her heart skipped a beat at that. She can’t help but smile back.

Her small hands slowly wrapped themselves around him, a smile on her lips. “And I love you too.”

With just that, their exchange, it was settled. Last night was worth it, definitely worth it.

Moments later, Suna broke from their hug to look down at the (h/c) beauty, tucking her chin against his forefinger and thumb, gently claiming her lips again. His kisses were slow, a bit sloppy, but firm, sort of like, lazy morning kisses.

(Y/N) giggled against the kiss before returning his kiss.

They spent half an hour like that, just kissing each other. And a little bit of touching. A few more minutes later, (Y/N) called out that she was hungry and that they should probably get out of bed, to which, Suna reacted lazily. He didn’t want to just yet.

Slowly, (Y/N) made motion to get up, Suna watched her. She winced when she sat up, a blush on her cheeks when she spotted their clothes carelessly thrown, trails of last night’s tryst.

Picking up Suna’s shirt, she put it on and slowly got out of bed to prepare brunch for the two. Unbeknownst to her, Suna was watching her.

While she changed, he can’t help but notice how sinfully good she looks in his shirt, or how sexy she was. His eyes ogled on her creamy legs, her exposed nape, the marks he left behind, to her figure. How he wanted to take her right then and there but restrained himself from doing so.

“I’ll be right back,” she had climbed on the bed to peck on the lips, catching him by surprise.

As he watched her leave, he felt a mirth of happiness conjuring him. He was so lucky. He was so happy, so terribly happy that it was criminal.

Falling back on his bed, faintly, the smell of sex and her lingered about, he could still remember everything from last night, could remember the feeling of being connected to her physically and emotionally, the feeling of being loved, the feeling of finally making her his.

(L/N) (Y/N), his first love, was officially, finally his.

His.

All his and nobody else’s.

He had marked her as his, had even claimed his mark on her.

She was his, body and soul because he loved her, and she loved him back.

When he walked into his home, key jiggling and resonating in the threshold, Suna realized that there was something else he could hear.

Curiosity peeked, he quickly took off his shoes and walked further in, passing by a few shelves, with a couple of frames on display: photos of the Inarizaki team during their first, second, and third years, the purikura from when they were second years, a photo of them at Mika and Reiki’s wedding, (Y/N) and the Miya twins at Osamu’s latest branch in Hiroshima, the whole national team plus the staff, Iwaizumi and her.

Usually, the house was silent – relatively peaceful, considering the disposition of his girlfriend and his indifference. But this silent was broken by something, something light, sweet, and captivating, he had to follow after it.

Reaching their living room, orange was the first thing he saw, Inari – the fox plushie from before, followed by papers, textbooks, and stationaries stationed on the coffee table, Inari sat on the couch next to her. And her, his (Y/N), dressed in one of his t-shirts.

And she was singing.

She was singing along to a song played from her laptop, played at a volume that was drowned out by her singing.

He’s heard her sing a few times in high school, unconsciously, of commercial jingles which really surprised everyone in the team. It would’ve been funny, but it was more so strange, and, dare he say, adorable of her.

Their eyes met and suddenly, she was singing to him, every word meant for him.

It choked him up.

He swore up and down, that he would cross any ocean, move mountains, if those (e/c) eyes were looking at him like that, with sickeningly, sweet words of the song sung to him, feeling his heart squeeze in the most devastating and fascinating way. Death by her singing?

Wow, he must be an idiot, a fool so in love.

Taking her hand, he helped her stand from the couch, walking around to meet him and starting an impromptu dance, to the tune of her singing.

Suna was smiling, she was smiling, continuing to sing, as they swayed around their living room.

Nothing was grander, more delightful, or ever so perfect than to have the person he’s yearned for so long in their shared home, singing softly, shyly, looking at him like this – with all the love she could offer.

This was some greeting, but he wouldn’t ask for anything else, couldn’t ask for more.

For this moment was theirs.

Theirs and theirs alone.

And nobody can ever take than from them.

“I’m home,” he pressed his forehead against hers.

Smiling, she finished her song, looking at him with all the love in the world. “Welcome home,”

#alicemitch09 writes #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou #suna fic #suna fluff #suna smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #hq #hq fic #hq smut #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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