#but this one needed the praise

[goforth-ladymidnight]

Heart's Blood by Juliet Marillier

For those of you who are looking for a good fairy tale retelling, @swiftsnowmane once recommended "Heart's Blood" by Juliet Marillier. Having stayed up until 3 o'clock in the morning to finish it, I am here to report that it is everything I wanted in a Beauty and the Beast retelling and then some.

It admittedly started off a little slow, and I wish there had been a pronunciation guide for the Irish names the way there was for the Romanian names in "Wildwood Dancing" (by the same author), but these are overall minor complaints. By the time Caitrin, our heroine, enters a certain private garden and the familiar elements of the fairy tale began falling into place, I was hooked. Part historical fiction, part fantasy, part romance, and part mystery, I had forgotten what it was like to stay up all night reading.

I think what made it such an especially compelling story was the nature of the curse, which Caitrin slowly becomes aware of and seeks to undo. Unlike "Beauty" by Robin McKinley (one of my favorite retellings) or "A Court of Thorns and Roses" by Sarah J. Maas (of which I have a love-hate relationship), the curse makes sense.

The novel "Beauty" was less concerned about the curse (which was vague at best and an afterthought at worst) and more about developing Beauty's character and her relationship with the Beast. Side note: Prior to the publication of Robin McKinley's novel, the character of Beauty had never been given much to do in the Beast's castle, but here she was given the chance to read. Sound familiar? I'm sure Disney took note, and the 1991 animated film seems to have inspired every rendition of Beauty ever since!

For example, Caitrin is a scribe in a time when most women weren't taught to read, much less write. Even in ACOTAR, SJM chose to make her Beauty (Feyre) illiterate, which made breaking the curse more difficult. Which leads me back to my original point about the believability of the curse in Beauty and the Beast retellings: ACOTAR is more concerned about making Feyre's life as difficult as possible so that Tamlin's (the Beast's) curse is almost impossible to break, even though it's already very complicated when it doesn't have to be.

By contrast, in "Heart's Blood", the curse feels more believable, though no less fantastical. To avoid spoilers, I won't say what exactly it entails, but, interestingly enough, it does not directly affect the "beast's" appearance. Granted, Anluan, the chieftain of Whispering Tor, still behaves like a beast in many ways (it wouldn't be a Beauty and the Beast retelling otherwise!), but the subtle ways in which he changes throughout the story more than make up for his lack of fangs and fur. And I grew to love him for it, just like Caitrin did.

This is one book I will be gladly adding to my collection. If only it had an illustrated cover as intricate and detailed as the one(s) made for Wildwood Dancing... I would be content.

Cover art by Kinuko Craft and Janaina Medeiros (@/janainaart)

Perhaps, one day it will.

[kochei0]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[hinamie]

playing around w slightly different hair renders

[fanaticsnail]

"Good Boy"

Masterlist here

Word count: 3,200+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.

Themes: mutual pining, kid x gn!reader, fluffy, praise kink Kid, he just wants to be a good boy, no kisses just praise.

Notes: it's past 1am where I am, and I physically couldn't get to sleep until I got this request by @remisloves out of my mind. It's all about praise and softening rough characters lately with me. Good night everyone! Sweet blorbo dreams

Tag list: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine

A shudder erupted from the base of Eustass Kid's spine to the top of his cranium. Downturning his chin, he attempted to disguise how wide his smile had risen to his lips beneath the shadow of his blast goggles. 

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Captain Kid pushed himself to the absolute limit to best his latest opponent. Blood dripping from his body, his bones bent to the point of nearly breaking. The weight of his metal arm overencumbered his body, his brute strength no longer enough to propel his legs forward. 

Successful at last, he claimed their loot in their vast treasury, selecting a few key pieces that caught his eye to present back to you: a former thief, his ships’ appraiser, and now his curator of chronological dialogue, items and routines. 

What would possess this hulking captain to risk his body and his crew to collect this small piece of art to present to you? Why would he ever risk such a heavy physical toll for a mere trinket? 

Because he was a good boy. 

And you always informed him as such.

While Kid saw no need for a chronicler initially, he very quickly warmed to the idea of maintaining one on his payroll. When Massacre Soldier Killer suggested a small snippet of their adventures be cataloged in journals, Kid never knew that reading the words back would prompt a rapid boil beneath his skin. A craving. A need. 

Seeing those words scribed on paper held him hostage. Those doting, praising, uplifting words that held such passionate composition regarding his exploits; they pushed him to go further, drive harder, propell longer in his adventures. This was all in an attempt to dream of seeing more of those beautiful words describing him articulated upon paper. 

Well, his exploits at least. 

Most of all, he craved to hear them depart from your lips. You managed to slip a single verbalized expression of praise once upon his return from doing a menial task. Since then, he was hooked on the rush it brought him. 

“Oh, wow! Captain, you've done so well! So unbelievably well!” was that first door opening to the praise he needed. 

That small snippet from you, was all well and good in his opinion. He did enjoy your recognition of his talent, but it was not what he craved the most. 

And what he wanted the most, was to be told he was, “a good boy.” 

He couldn't explain it, but the thought of hearing those words flee from your lips had his eyelids half-hooded, eyes glazed, pupils blackened and blown, and a droopy smile lazily draw itself up onto his lips. 

You had only ever come close one time to praising him personally, rather than the talent of his exploits. He felt the flutter of his heart rapidly igniting his veins with adrenaline, screaming with his eyes for you to utter the words he so desperately craved. 

And you said it. 

You finally said it today. 

His feet thumped upon the wooden deck, after he hoisted himself over the small opening on the side of the ship. The ‘away team' had finally assembled together and began greeting those who remained behind. 

Rushing to greet your Captain, he shot you a reciprocated, triumphant and winning smile, while happily presenting a small object up to you in the center of his right, flesh hand. 

“You found it? You actually found it?” your eyes widened, reaching your hand out to Kid's extended right palm. His body was still dripping with the blood of his enemies, a visible shake in his fingertips as he elevated the trinket up to you. 

“It nearly cost me my other arm,” he winced through the words, his forearm beginning to twitch beneath the strain of his exhaustion, “But I brought it back for you-...” he halted his words, pondering whether it was now time to make his affections known or not “...-to add to the collection.”

“For me?” your eyes widened, looking at the shiny and ornate gold filigree design. In the center of the flattened piece lay a single garnet: small, something one would cast aside should more items be presented. But to you, a prized piece in an antique collection you had been dedicating your life to find. 

“It's the missing piece, yeah?” Kid smirked, huffing through his words as the rest of the crew assembled atop the Victoria Punk, “The one you told us about last Friday?”

“Honestly, Captain, I don't remember half of what happened last Friday,” you confessed sheepishly, up turning your brows as your fingers brushed against his palm, “You'd think my liver would be able to tolerate being aboard your ship, drinking that slosh alongside the crew by now.”

He barked a cracked cackle at your confession, prompting your own to rise in your chest. His laugh was contagious, a laugh that could be felt through his whole body springing and vibrating up within your own. 

“Thank you, captain,” you expressed your deepest gratitude to the taller man, your head nodding in praise, “You don't know what this means to me.”

After a moment's pause, he looked down at the object before bringing his whisky-coloured eyes back up to meet with your own. He inhaled a shaken breath, baited and waiting within his lungs while anticipating his next words. 

“S-So,” he stuttered over his words, scolding himself under his own anxiety, “Did I do good? Is this the one you needed? Am I a-...” he didn't want to lead you into giving him the praise he desperately sought, but didn't want to not hear it either. 

With all the patience you could muster upon such a triumphant moment in your life, you prompted him with your eyes to have him complete his sentence. 

“...Am I a good-...” trying so, so hard to say the final word, he physically couldn't have them pass his lips, “...-Captain?” He mentally slapped himself, knowing that those were not the words he craved and how stupid that must've made him sound. 

You took a moment to carefully think about your next words, noticing how bruised he was, how bloody his knuckles were, how a lot of the crew that went with him on this private ‘away mission' were faring upon return. 

“Of course you are. You captain us extremely well, sir,” you uttered with a soft smile, “I'll adjust my findings accordingly in the journals, if I may be excused?” 

A small puff of air flew from his lips, defeat almost tangibly thick as it shrouded his shoulders with its presence. He looked away after giving his nod of dismissal, his gaze fixed on the wood of the deck below his feet. 

Your smile widened, claiming the object from his palm and holding your hand within his for a moment longer, before withdrawing completely. Fluttering your eyes over each fixed point of concern on his features, you searched for what his body seemed to be screaming for. 

Thanking him with a curt nod, you turned on your heel and abruptly halted your next step. 

At this moment, it fully dawned on you exactly the words your Captain wanted to hear. Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates, champion and leader of the Victoria punk, devil-fruit user and wielder of Haki… had a praise kink. And he wanted you to praise him. 

A playful smile spread like warm honey up your cheeks, a scrunch in your nose as you rolled your next words over your tongue. You turned your head over your shoulder, guarding your intentions close to your chest as you spoke two words that almost had your Captain fall on his knees in gratitude. 

“Good boy.”

From that moment on, he was simply smitten. No matter what he did, whether it was aiding his crew with carrying supplies, carrying out great acts of violence, defending his Nakama from their enemies, or simply finishing his vegetables at meal time - he would look to you in anticipation, that anticipation being met with those two simple words. 

“Good boy.”

They echoed within his mind, swirling around within the chasms of his brain as slumber eluded him. He did not mind in the slightest having his lack of rest consumed with praises departing from your lips. 

Your voice plagued him, haunted him as a spectral ghost would hunt down their unfinished business. He did not mind such a haunting, in fact: he wanted more. He wanted to have more praise, more compliments, more of your verbal, beautiful words crying out from your perfect lips. 

He was smitten, completely smitten, by your compliments. The way your talented tongue made his name sound, the way your lips curved up in a knowing smirk each time you told him he was a ‘good boy.’

Until the day you didn't. 

Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, one that nobody knew the cause nor the cure for such a horrid, stampeding mess of a captain. Food, ales, meads, even gold - nothing appeared to pry him from his raging temper. Breaking tankards, tipping over tables, scattering documents on his captains’ desk, nothing was safe from the wrath he was wreaking on the furniture. 

Hunched over your desk, you continued cataloging and appraising the latest haul of trinkets and treasures thrust into your office. It was overwhelming for you, the sheer number of items scattered around your room. You attempted to alphabetize them, sort them accordingly and lump them into itemized piles. 

The toll the elevation of work raised onto your shoulders had you dismiss all those who presented you with various finds, including your Captain. He rocked on the ball and heels of his feet, eagerly awaiting and anticipating his sought-after praise - but found nothing but an anxious sigh and scratch of your neck in response to his hard labor. 

This was the reason for his intense rage.

After leaving your office, and selfishly paying no mind to your exhausted expression, he began to spiral.  

“He was so good. Why didn't you tell him he was? Was there something he could've done better? Something he could've pushed harder to strive for?” all circled within his mind as he tore piece after piece of his office apart. 

Several hours had passed, and you carved a hefty chunk of your work apart and managed to get a fair bit done. It was nowhere near complete, but it had you feeling a sense of anxious accomplishment. 

A knock at the door prompted you to raise your chin, eyes panicked and overwhelmed with the amount of work still required to be completed before mealtime. 

“Need help?” The light flickered off the cerulean and pearl colored mask of the first mate, who peeked his head around the doorframe. 

“Please,” you sighed, gesturing to your position kneeling on the ground beside you. Killer promptly entered your office, crouching beside you and sifting through the uncharted treasures still needing to be sorted. 

“What we up to?” he elevated his hand, gesturing out to the various piles in front of you both, “I think I see where they need to go. You written down them all?”

“All recorded in the book, down to the last drooped earpiece,” you confirmed, nodding to the mess in the center of the room, “They just need to be put in the right piles, locked in the treasury, and then we can call it a night. Maybe have an ale, if you're up for it, Kil?”

After a moment's pause, both of you rolling the items in your fingertips and placing them within the according: gold, silver, platinum, gemstone, raw material, ceramic, wearable materials, and weaponry piles. 

“Leave this with me,” Killer uttered, placing a throwing knife within the weaponry stack, “And you go and perform your other job.”

“What other job?” your brows knit with confusion, “I've already done the journalling of the exploits, the timetabling of the crew shift-changes, notarizing the stock we need within the kitchen-.”

“-Oh, no, buckaroo,” you could audibly hear the smirk behind Killer's mask as he teased you, “the other one. The one nobody pays you to do.”

“Which is, champ?” you taunted in return, nudging him with your shoulder roughly against his, “Be specific.”

“The one where you-...” he took this brief pause as an opportunity to sigh in huffed frustration, “...-where you tell our captain he's a good boy. Although, in his current state,” Killer rotated his neck to relieve the tension on his shoulders, “I might even go so far as to suggest you call him a bad one, considering that's exactly how he's behaving.”

Your confusion knit your brow down in the center of your face, your mind focussing on when the last time you praised the puppy you had turned your Captain into. 

“Oh, fuck! I didn't praise him when he brought in the loot!” your eyes widened in shock, promptly rising to your feet and brushing over your pants, “I just got so overwhelmed by the sheer bloody number, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh, I'm an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot,” Killer interrupted you, rising to his own feet and cupping your shoulders in an attempt to halt the rise in your anxiety, “Hell, you're not even dating him. It shouldn't be your job-,” he brushed over your shirt, adjusting the crumpled material to make it more appealing to the eye. 

“-Yet here you are,” he concluded, nodding at you before glancing down at the piles of treasure, “And here I am: the first-mate, the best friend, the confidant. The one who is unable to tear him away from his absolutely shit-house mood, because all he wants is you.”

You attempted to stifle the warm flush that drew itself up to your cheeks. Captain Kid was a tall, broad and intimidating man - those were the three assessments you initially made when you were hired to serve aboard the Victoria Punk. Then you got to know him, and were made privy to truly see who he was beneath the surface. 

The twinkle behind the feral rage, the purity in his unbridled emotions, the lack of restraint in all his advances: you adored him. When he began to seek out your praises, you were immediately swooning at his attention. 

He wanted your words, not just due to the fact words were your job, but because he wanted you to speak them. Just to speak his praises to be granted the luxury of a light tingle in his ears, a blush rise to his cheeks and a smile decorating his lips with such beautiful words. 

Now within the doorframe of your captain's office, you arched your brow and crossed your arms. Leaning on the wooden panel, you continued to watch his chest rise and fall with each exasperated and berzerk breath. Your eyes never left his body, each arch of his back and ripple of his muscles straining under the taut fabrics atop his shoulders. 

“All this because I didn't call you a good boy?” you addressed him in a low and dangerous tone. His feral eyes snapped over to you, widening as he truly witnessed the devastation in the destruction in his office. 

“You've been a bad boy, I see,” you continued in your dark tone, promptly stepping into his office and closing the door behind you, “Look at all this mess. Tsk, naughty.” 

The click of your tongue had Kid arching his back, straightening his spine as he bit back a soft whimper. His brows triangulated in the center of his face, bottom lip now quivering under the weight of your disciplinary tone. 

Circling his body, fingers brushing against his large right hand beside his hip as you leaned into him. You shook your head, stooping down and beginning to collect the paper, stationary, tankards, and paperweights that had been flung against the floor. 

Before you could say a following, disciplinary word, Kid immediately fell onto his knees and began hurriedly picking up the items he threw onto the ground beside you. 

“I-I’ll pick it all up,” he nodded his head as to confirm his words further, “I'll tidy up all this shit. Please, I-I’m sorry. I just-.”

“-Just wanted to be praised, hm?” you hummed at him. He hid his head from view, his painted lips pouting while his eyes held their attention firmly against the mess. 

He nodded, the weight of finally admitting his craving lifting off his chest and shoulders as he received the items you were holding atop the stack he was forming. 

“Tidy up your mess, handsome,” you smiled, elevating your right hand to capture his pointed chin within your thumb and index finger, “I'll watch every step you take, and let you know how good you're being, if you do it properly.”

Kid’s breath caught in his lungs, a pink dust settled against his cheeks and ears. He hurriedly rose to his feet, up-turning his askew desk and dusting off his captains’ chair. He extended it outwards, wordlessly and politely gesturing for you to take a seat. 

“My, my,” you commented, rising to your feet and accepting his invitation, “Such a gentleman, you're being. But, you've gotta’ work a little bit harder to earn that title you crave.”

Captain Eustass Kid was a dutiful, whimpering puppy under your watchful eyes. He was, almost, happily rearranging all of the objects he had thrown askew. He even took the time to appropriately categorize the pages he didn't complete prior to his little tantrum.

“Hm, very good. Well done picking up after yourself.” He blushed further at your words, but craved so much more. 

“Oh, look at how much time you're taking on that bookshelf. I can even see how clean you're making each of the panels. Look at you go, big boy.” That praise had him whimpering, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to clean in silence. 

“So strong, picking up that heavy weight all by yourself. So proud of you.” He could not stop the audible gasp, nor the rush of blood seeping to places they had no business in flooding to at that moment. 

He completed all this while glancing over his shoulder and thriving beneath the giddy feeling rushing to his chest upon being the center of your unwavering gaze. 

Upon the last paperweight being placed and straightened atop his desk, he knelt between your knees and glanced up into your eyes. He looked innocent of all wrongdoing, all prior anger and malice fleeing from within his silent pleading. 

He was desperate for those words, those two simple little words that he so yearned for. Noseying up further between your knees, his shuddering metal and flesh hands cautiously placed themselves gently on your calves. 

Soft and slow circles were traced against your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as they began twinkling with hope. All his mind was screaming, silently and internally, was a simple repetition of: “Please, please, please. Say it, say it, say it.”

And you obliged him by leaning down, caressing his left, scarred cheek and drawing your lips close enough to taste the tingle of his breath upon your skin. Hovering before contact was made, you floated your gaze between his whisky-hued orbs and his parted lips with a soft smile. 

“Good boy.”

[deoidesign]

Return date for my webcomic, Time and Time Again!

It's been set for a while but sometimes they change the date without warning, so I'll keep you updated if anything changes!

I'm extremely proud of the work I've been doing on it, I can't wait to share everything!

See you then!

[lgbtlunaverse]

I feel like too often people frame Nie Mingjue's issues as ignorance borne from safety. Like, they think that because of his privilege as a sect leader he doesn't know what it's like to be in danger and forced to make hard choices to survive. And I disagree. Strongly.

First of all, Nie Mingjue is very familiar with death not only from war but from. You know. Actively dying since the age of fourteen. Let us not forget Nie Mingjue is dead! Super dead! And maybe he didn't die the exact way he expected to but he did, absolutely, know he was going to die. To act like Nie Mingjue is unfamiliar with the scenario of "do something you find morally reprehensible or die" is to ignore that he has been living that exact scenario and chose death.

Nie Mingjue knows death is a risk for someone like Jin guangyao, in fact he explicitly acknowledges it even in his worst moments like the stairs in chapter 49. Had his issue been ignorance, then he would've responded to Jin Guangyao saying that he's in danger and has to sacrifice others for his own safety with "No you aren't you'll be fine." But he doesn't. He accepts the fact that jgy is in danger with no qualms and says: then you should die.

That's not him betraying his values, those are his values. He is, essentially, pro-suicide. Jgy is like hey I have a moral dilemma what should I do and nmj straight up goes "Kill yourself" and earlier that same chapter when he was faced with a moral dilemma he went "I'm gonna kill myself." He believes the solution to moral dilemmas is suicide! He is extremely consistent about this! When it's pointed out to him that it would have been dangerous for Wen Qing to oppose Wen Ruohan it doesn't phase him because he thinks putting yourself at risk to do the right thing is the only moral choice. The idea that he can only hold this belief because he is himself somehow not in danger, again, requires you to ignore that he is dying the whole time. And it doesn't deter him. He is the idea of self-sacrifice as a moral good taken to its absolute logical extreme. Someone who is ready to die and demands the same from everyone else.

It makes him a very fun case study for fandom, because a lot of fandom spaces also tend to revere self-sacrifice as the ultimate good, and yet we get very uncomfortable when someone starts demanding it of characters we love. Like woah, hold on, that's a bit too far isn't it? Only we the audience get to do that!

[cecoeur]

it's hell on earth to be heavenly them's the breaks, they don't come gently

[luvrxbunny]

it is the most embarrassing, and humbling experience to search for smut for a certain character… only to find that no one else is horny for them.. like damn.. i’m weird, huh?

[khattikeri]

honestly postcanon i need shen qingqiu to tell yue qingyuan his sincere opinion, that he really likes and respects zhangmen-shixiong as a person and always thought he was cool. because i think it'd completely break yue qi's brain

[nightfal1n]

Two kids when dealing with getting wholehearted compliment from daddy-like figure for the first time in their life (probably)

[haydenlovers]

NSWF 18+

Dilf!Anakin x FemReader

Warnings - Smut, soft dom Anakin, oral (f receiving), slight edging, p in v, praising, creampie

Not proof read

Anakin’s dialogue - Readers dialogue

You’re so fucking beautiful. He whispers against your skin, as he continues to kiss your thighs. The cool breeze across your chest causes your nipples to harden. His big hands wrapped under your legs gently massaging your thighs. Gently sucking in your skins leaving marks all over. Placing a kiss on your clothed clit, sending shivers down your spine. Slowly pulling down your panties revealing your throbbing cunt.

All wet f’me? He smirks glaring up at you with his blue eyes full of desire.

Mmh

Use your words princess

Yes, Ani, all for you

You gonna be a good girl and cum when I tell you to

Yea, I’ll be a good girl I promise

Open your legs baby. Wider. There you go, good girl

You shutter at his words. He licks his lips before licking up your folds, causing your body to jolt and hand to grasp onto his hair. His hands wrap around your ass holding you in place. His tongue circling around your clit teasing you. He slowly moved onto your clit placing a gentle kiss on it. Your pussy throbbing with anticipation. Before he starts devouring you, sucking and licking your clit, as if it was his last meal.

He slips a finger into your warmth curling it making the right spot. Adding another finger in to stretch you out. Squirming as he moves faster on your swollen bud. He grips you tighter to stop you moving, as moans escaped your mouth. He moaned against your cunt, sending vibrations through your body. Fuck��� Ani m’gonna come.

Not yet. He mumbles against your clit. But you felt a familiar feeling building up in stomach, as your pussy clenched around his fingers. Anakin slowed down and removed his fingers, and the feeling in your stomach disappeared. As he toyed with your bundle of nerves painfully slow. Grasping his hair trying to pull him in more.

Please Ani

As he picks up the pace again and slipping two fingers back in your entrance. Curling them at fast pace causing your back to arch. His tongue moving faster as that you feel your climax quickly building up again. As he adds a third finger.

Ani need to cum please. He hums against you as your vision blurs, trying not to cum. Yanking his hair begging for him to allow you to cum.

Cum for me baby

Clenching around him, you reach your climax and your juices still out onto his face. He removes his fingers and licks them clean. Humming at the sight of you out of breath still recovering from your orgasm. He brings himself up to your lips, and plants them on yours. His tongue exploring your mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he caressed your soft skin, slowly moving from your hips to your waist.

You did such a good job. He plants a light kiss on your forehead.He heads to the end of the bed and stood up quickly removes his boxers, revealing his hard member. Every time you see it is like the first time, you could never get over it. How long and thick it was, with a pink tip and a few veins that stuck out. He grabbed your ankles pulling you towards him. His hands run up to your hips and quickly flips you over so you’re on your stomach. You put your ass up aching your back waiting for Anakin’s next move.

Already want more princess

Yes, please need your cock so bad

He draws himself closer to you, and runs im his rosy tip up your dripping folds. Trying to move your hips closer to him, but being stopped by his strong grip on your ass. He slowly pushes the tip into your entrance, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he bottoms you out. Stretching out your tight walls, making you feel so full.

You gonna come for me again when I tell you

Yes Ani

Anakin starts to thrust into like there’s no tomorrow, his cock hitting in the perfect place. As your moans filled the room, and his grunts became louder. Your poor little pussy being abused by his fat cock. You grasped onto the bed sheets, as his hands trailed up your body caressing your soft skin. The sound of your pussy squelching and skin slapping became more aggressive, as Anakin’s cock brushed against your cervix.

Taking me so well baby. Being such a good girl for me huh?

You couldn’t form words to respond as pleasure was too much. You were a moaning mess, and Anakin loved it.

Wanna come again? Come on my cock baby, thats it

Your walls clenching around him as you came all over his dick, moaning his name. His dick twitching inside of you as your pussy tightened around his cock, sending him over the edge as his hot seed filled you up and leaked from your swollen pussy. Mixing with all your juices.

Did so good f’me. I’m proud of you sweethearts

[soodoonimin]

I tried to screen record this scene so I could talk about BUT god help me, does Apple hate me. Anyway.

I just really wanted to point how much I love the way that Logan’s face goes from blind anger while he’s ranting at Wade (right before the Honda fight) to this sudden drop and even little eyebrow crease, and slight look away (like he’s ashamed) after he says “ You got nothing to say, Mouth?” Because he realized he might have actually gone too far 😭 but the second Wade answered with “I’m going to fight you now” Logan laughs.

And like after watching this movie (this was the 5th time) again I don’t think it was a condescending laugh I think it was a laugh of relief. Like he might have thought Wade was joking sure but he was also just so damn relieved that Wade was talking to him and I bet that fight was less him getting out his anger and more him also expressing that relief. Like yeah I’m sure he was pissed he got punched in the nose but somewhere in the middle of that fight he’s just having so much fun and you can tell just by the way the look on his face changes.

[box-dwelling]

Fuck man I knew aai 1-4 had MVK being dismissive and abusive to the siblings but fuck man.

Actively saying that attending his 13 year old daughters courtroom debut isn't a priority for him

Then this exchange which is prompted by nothing beyond Miles asking to do his job even using the Von Karma framing of finding perfection only for Manfred to just completely shut him down and verbally abuse him

Miles then being completely unable to respond in shame. Even though this is God damn Bratworth were talking about and in the last scene he was saying this

And then Fran coming in to desperately try and deflect her father ire to protect him

Then when she finally does convince him to let them investigate he says this

Basically actively admitting to anyone with the context we have now that he's only making Miles a procecutor to sully Gregory's legacy.

Then Miles thanking her because he saw her defelcting Manfreds abuse for him.

Just absolutely heart breaking. It really shows the dynamic at play here perfectly. He doesn't care about Franziska. He is not putting this energy into her career and only putting it into Miles' because he is using it as an avenue to abuse and control him and further enact his revenge on Gregory. And she doesn't understand why. She doesn't get why Miles gets this attention and she doesn't. But she already knows that she has to deflect his attention to protect Miles. And Miles doesn't understand how he's doing everything he can to do the right thing but is still his target. Its such a genuinely interesting dynamic where both of them think the other is the favourite. Miles thinks it Fran because he's not constantly verbally abusing her and Fran thinks it's Miles because he actually bothers to give him the time of day and is properly mentoring him. She's 13 man. She's about to become a prosecutor at 13 and he still doesn't care about her in the slightest.

Ugh Von Karma siblings, my heart

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I feel like I owe Kim Possible a minor apology. In a recent post, I used Kim and Ron's romance as an example of how the love square should have been written. I've also talked about how Ron's the perfect example of a male comedy sidekick who is more than just a comedy sidekick because he's treated as Kim's perfect partner. I've probably mentioned Kim Possible other times, too, because it's such a good match for what Miraculous is trying to do.

Because I keep singing Kim Possible's praises I decided that I should rewatch the show to make sure that my nostalgia goggles weren't blinding me to some major flaw. So far, they weren't. If anything, I've been underselling the show. This is where we get to that apology I mentioned at the start.

Prior to this rewatch, I would have told you that Ron's importance wasn't really discussed until the later seasons because the first season of a formulaic kids show is almost always a testing grounds to see what works, so things can be a little rough. Plus Ron's importance isn't exactly something that you need to dive into early on when you've got a two person team. No one is questioning Ron's importance right out of the gate. He's there to be the comedy sidekick. No explanation needed.

Imagine my surprise when the plot of episode six is all about Kim and Ron getting into a fight about Ron excelling at their part time job while Kim kinda sucks, leading to Kim going to fight alone while Ron keeps working. Kim fails, Ron gets a call that she's in trouble, and:

Wade: Not important. Kim's in trouble. She found Drakken at inside giant Cheese Wheel but I lost contact. She needs help. Your help. Ned: Well, well, well. Looks like you've got a choice to make, Stoppable! What's more important? Your sacred duty as assistant manager or your role as goofy sidekick? Ron: Well, that's no choice at all. I guess it's time to say buenos noches, Bueno Nacho.

Dude doesn't even hesitate. Doesn't matter if they're fighting or if he's feeling underappreciated, Kim needs his help? He's there. Their fight can wait until after Kim is safe. This is why I love Ron. Total dork, but you can't ask for a better partner.

Ron's rescue attempt initially goes south, but instead of getting mad, we get this genuinely sweet moment:

Ron: Guess that wasn't much of a plan. Kim: Not as great as your Bueno Nacho bathroom-break chart. Ron: I gooned on assistant-manager power. You were right. Kim: I did resent your superior burrito technique. You're entitled to excel. Forgive me? Ron: Duh! Forgive me? Kim: Totally.

Boy do I love these two! Their friendship was so genuine right from the start. This whole episode is just oozing how much they care for each other, it's great!

After this moment, they save the day with Ron playing a big part in Kim's plan because right from season one, season one, the writers understood that Kim could never be shown to win when Ron wasn't around.

As you may have guessed from the cheese wheel line, the plot of this episode is pretty absurd even for Kim Possible. That's been the case for all of the early episodes, but I think that the plots are going to improve as the seasons go on because I remember the later seasons having much stronger plots. We'll see if that proves true. Even if the plots stay kinda weak, I've still gotta give full credit to the writers for their early character work. They really understood Kim and Ron's relationship right from the start, didn't they? And in a show like this, that's the most important element to get right.

Don't worry, I'm not going to flood your dash with Kim Possible love, I just had to take a moment to appreciate how good the character work was here. They really did want Ron to feel like more than Kim's goofy sidekick and they pulled it off while sticking to the show's absurd writing and formulaic structure. As Miraculous has shown, that isn't something that just naturally happens. It takes effort, so I had to take a moment to gush because I don't get to gush about good character work often while running this blog. I hope this also makes it clear that, when it comes to writing, I'm not looking for perfection. I'm just looking for a good time. So far, that's what this rewatch is giving me.

[seasideoranges]

y'all i gotta be honest for a sec, the "atla wouldnt change much if aang wasnt there, in fact it might be better" and "the atla finale wouldnt change much if aang wasnt there to fight ozai" debates is the funniest thing ive seen come out of this fandom

[simpingforcys]

Oh how I love this man. I adore every part of this man.

I won't lie, my 5-year ago self would be screaming if she saw me now on her knees crying 'why' and all I could be saying is "he silly"