#feel free to add or try to make sense of it

[spaceprincessleia]

Rebels with(out) a cause

Here are some points I want to talk about regarding Vel, Cinta and storytelling:

It’s Vel’s story, not Cinta’s (Intention)

Vel in season 1 – and Cinta

What kind of story did we get?

The mess (Outcome)

The impact of queerness and race on the story we got

The story we should have got (Fix)

My conclusion

Feel free to dive into 1269 words of analysis. Good luck if you do.

Disclaimer: This is just an opinion and doesn't consider every aspect ever. Also, I don't read (many) interviews with people involved in the show or listen to/watch analyses. I really just had an itch to write down my thoughts, and they turned into ... many thoughts.

Also, this is an analysis that points out storytelling flaws. I love Vel and Cinta deeply, their story overall makes much more sense than the parts that could/should have been better, and I'll forever be happy that we got these characters and their relationship.

It’s Vel’s story, not Cinta’s

Andor introduces us to characters at important moments in the rebellion. Backstories are often reduced to minimal context (except for Cassian’s, because he’s the main character).

One of these stories is about a “rich girl” who walks away from privilege and wealth to fight the Empire directly – unlike a politician working from within the Senate. That’s an angle we haven’t really seen before, and we explore it through Vel – why did someone with her background join the fight?

To tell that story, Tony Gilroy created Cinta as Vel’s narrative foil, aka a marginal role and not a fully independent character. So, she wasn’t written for more screen time or deeper development; we were never meant to learn how she joined the rebellion, where she came from, or how she and Vel met.* Also, Cinta’s angle isn’t one we haven’t seen before.

* If anything, we do know why Vel and Cinta are (were) in a relationship: to contrast the protagonist, Vel, to highlight her choices, conflicts and growth. That’s not the in-character explanation for their love that we want, of course, but a meta explanation – the relationship exists for the story’s structure, because that’s how Tony decided to tell it.

Vel in season 1 – and Cinta

In season 1, we see two sides of Vel: she’s trying to become a leader and find her place in the rebellion (emphasis on trying), and she’s in love with Cinta. She wants both, but clearly struggles to find balance. Cinta is the opposite: she knows exactly why she fights and puts the rebellion first.

After the Aldhani heist, Vel and Cinta are worlds apart, both literally and figuratively. Vel ends up on Coruscant, no longer looking like a ground soldier, while Cinta returns to her role on the frontlines. Their priorities contrast as well: Vel becomes more caught up in her emotions, while Cinta remains focused on the rebellion.

We learn a little bit more about Vel, too, through Mon, Cinta and Perrin (for example that she’s Mon Mothma’s cousin, that she comes from a life of wealth and privilege, and that she grew up in a conservative, possibly homophobic society).

By the end of season 1, the focus is very much on Vel and Cinta’s relationship, and not on just Vel and her “why.”

What kind of story did we get?

Instead, Vel’s relationship with Cinta became the main point of her character – and the exploration of her “why” disappeared. The story focused almost entirely on their dynamic, and as a result, Cinta evolved into more than “just” a narrative foil. She became a character, and the one with more narrative clarity.

Therefore, many of us expected to see both of them grow/change individually in season 2 as well as a conclusion to their relationship.

And we did get both in season 2: they changed, and they found balance. They could love each other and still work well as a team dedicated to a common cause.

So far, so good, right? *record scratch* Well ... no, actually.

The mess

There are three points here that add to the mess of Vel and Cinta’s arc, in my opinion:

Firstly, all of Vel and Cinta’s character growth happened off-screen during the time skips. There’s no build-up to the conclusion of their arc, it’s resolved in minimal screen time. Vel’s core motivation is still unknown and it can’t be explored through her relationship with Cinta, since Cinta is killed off in episode six. Wasn’t exploring Vel’s core motivation the whole point of her character though?

Secondly, If Cinta’s death was supposed to become Vel’s “why,” the missing part in her arc, then that doesn’t work. Vel isn’t a new recruit, motivation doesn’t come after you’ve already committed, and if Vel only really starts fighting because of Cinta’s death, it reduces everything Vel did before.

And thirdly, things get even more complicated when we address what we haven’t yet: Vel and Cinta are a queer love story, with Cinta portrayed by a queer woman of color. And all of this matters, whether it was intentional or not.

The impact of queerness and race on the story we got

Tony tells a story here that generally works regardless of gender, sexuality or race. There’s nothing wrong with creating a marginal role (like a narrative foil) and even killing them off to advance another character’s arc.

But stories don’t exist in a vacuum. Even if the focus isn’t on identity, they become part of the story, and should be considered within the story (the vacuum) as well as the context of the real world.

Andor touches on queerness beyond just the portrayal of a same-sex relationship: for example with the line “Everyone has their own rebellion,” delivered by a queer character from a conservative, possibly homophobic society.

While the line refers to people from different backgrounds who join the rebellion for different reasons, a queer audience will pick up on a more specific meaning in that context, too. Because to many, being queer is a “rebellion” against the norms of a heteronormative society.

Additionally, the marginal character whose primary role is to support the development of a protagonist is portrayed by a queer woman of color, and the protagonist is white.

Considering both of these aspects, Tony Gilroy tapped into a long, painful tradition in media: queer women of color are often sidelined, underdeveloped or killed off to serve the arcs of others.

The story we should have got

Now, could the pain over Cinta’s death have been avoided? No. It would always have hurt fans who were invested in her and Vel’s relationship. But could the mess around that pain have been avoided? Partially, yes. Better storytelling choices regarding both Vel and Cinta could have made it less frustrating. Still, with so much character development skipped over through time jumps, some level of dissatisfaction may have been inevitable.

For me, the best fix would have been to

stay true to the original narrative purpose of Vel’s character, and

show Vel and Cinta’s development on screen, over time, in season 2.

The reveal of “why” Vel chose to fight the Empire should have been the primary focus of her arc. We’re shown her commitment, but not the core reason behind it. And that’s not a small thing: Vel would feel much more complete as a character with a defined motivation.

That missing “why” could have been explored through her contrast with Cinta. Vel is portrayed as someone who chooses to join the fight. Cinta, meanwhile, had no choice: her life was destroyed by the Empire, her “why” is clear.

Vel and Cinta’s journey to find balance in their relationship is a story I love with all of my heart. It could have grown alongside Vel’s personal arc, not replace it, and it could have honored Cinta’s character with more narrative space.

Conclusion

There’s still much more that could be analyzed and debated – but the bottom line is:

In my opinion, Tony Gilroy lost sight of his original intention with Vel: exploring her perspective and the reasons she chose to join the fight against the Empire.

Additionally, his casting and writing choices needed to be handled with more awareness.

Because of this, Cinta deserved more screentime and narrative space in season 2, even if she was always intended to be a foil and her death planned from the start.

And due to the timing of Cinta’s death in the storyline, it could never have meaningfully served as Vel’s “why” anyway.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[who-the-fuck-knows-blog]

This One is About Izzy Again, Mostly, Sorry

so like, we do clearly know that Edward is much worse off this season than he used to be, even as Blackbeard. Is behaving worse and treating everyone around him worse. I think most of us already figured that, after this, it’s most likely Izzy knew something was different; Blackbeard maimed others, but never him. I guess, to me, it gives a bit more of a picture of what Edward was like before [Stede] as Blackbeard. He could be violent and cruel, but cared, to some extent, about his crew (at least those in the higher ranks/those with history with him), which we already know he used to feel responsible for every one that died due to his plans.

what this gives us is a Blackbeard who devised cunning plans, worked to ensure his crew survived, but also shunned emotional expression/emotional connections.

I guess, this is all to say, when Izzy wanted Blackbeard back, he wanted the man before Stede who did the necessary pirate things (raiding, etc) but maintained an atmosphere on the ship that was at least somewhat crew-conscious. Blackbeard, before, would have at least cared about the crew enough not to endanger them too recklessly (note: this is also Blackbeard before he got despondent, in saving Stede, he apparently did recklessly endanger them, according to Izzy, but even then he still cared that it happened. He still held himself responsible for their lives.) The Blackbeard that Izzy wanted back, that Izzy respected, that Izzy served, was a man who cared for the lives and safety of his crew. But this Blackbeard, doesn’t care. He’s doing the opposite of caring. He’s actively endangering them and terrorizing them.

It can be argued that Izzy’s outburst on deck when Edward is holding a gun to his own head and looming over the crew is a multitude of things. From the least charitable (and to me, makes the least sense)— he wants to maintain Blackbeard’s image, and Blackbeard is seeming really iffy and ruining his reputation on deck in front of the whole crew — to more charitable interpretations — Izzy is worried about either the crew’s safety from Blackbeard, or Edward’s safety from himself — and is redirecting all the attention to himself before things get more out of hand. I’d say he also is just at the end of his rope and what he’s willing to deal with from Blackbeard, and Blackbeard knows it, that’s why he “retired” Izzy. Izzy openly opposed him in front of the crew, and also brought up the one thing Edward has been working so hard to avoid (at least publicly) thinking about or acknowledging.

There’s gonna be so much more Izzy this season and so much more understanding of his motives, probably, so I don’t want to get too ahead of myself assigning any particular one yet, but I do think if we go by his role in the mutiny against Edward, he decided he cares about this crew enough to prevent Edward from destroying them.

It could be argued he reached this point earlier, either before or during the scene where the crew actively comforts him when he assumed no one else cared, and that his standing up to Blackbeard initially was his first actual act of mutiny and was also then a measure to protect the crew, but that’s less obvious to me, because he could have still been trying to protect Edward from himself at that point.

[spirkbitch]

i wish i understood the history of starfleet uniforms

within tos they don’t change much

they seem fleecy in s1-2 but in s3 they get much more well constructed, seemingly sturdier shirts

in the pilot and some early episodes we have these sweaters

but they’re all very similar

so what prompted the change from that to these

leggings? tights? or is it the whole onesie under those weird tunics

whatever the reason, it was a good call to change to these

but THEN

according to the TNG episode Yesterdays Enterprise they stick with those for like 70-80 more years

JUST TO GO BACK TO THE FUCKING ONESIES (at least these are more stylish onesies)

why do they wear these goddamn onesies in the first two seasons? and, once again, what prompted the change?

(imo these are like band uniforms, with those weird little overall pants and the back zip jacket. lol they prob have to zip each other up)

anyways, somehow, before all of this, they looked like this?? what sense does that make?

i get that there’s out of universe explanations for this stuff but i want in universe explanations

[emptysekai]

guide to ad-free youtube for mobile via. youtube revanced

since youtube vance is no longer maintained and youtube is cracking down on adblockers here is how to download youtube revanced which has the best options for customising youtube features; including removing youtube shorts popups, sponsorship segments in videos, hiding unused buttons, bringing back dislikes, and more! [official revanced github]

this guide is for android only. sorry apple users idk how to help you. your device doesn't have to be rooted. even if it is, you should still be able to follow this guide. if you have youtube vanced installed, revanced shouldn't clash, so you don't have to uninstall it if you don't want to.

installation guide:

1. download all 3:

i. microg (this will let you log into your youtube account) [apk mirror] (scroll past description, download the latest one)

ii. revanced manager apk [github] (select the latest release, scroll to the bottom in assets, install the .apk file)

iii. latest youtube apk [apk mirror]

2. open revanced manager

3. select in this order: "patcher" -> "select an application" -> "storage" (note: if your phone asks you to let the app have storage access, say yes)

[id. two screenshots of the revanced manager app. there are red markings drawn overtop, indicating areas to select mentioned in step 3. the three spots are circled by a red square, an arrow pointing towards it, and a circle with a marked number to indicate the order at the end of each arrow. id end.]

4. select the youtube apk you downloaded

5. select patches. you can tap "recommended" or "default" or turn on/off patches you want

6. once you have selected, select: "done" -> "patch"

7. wait as it intialises youtube revanced. when it's done select "install" (note: if your phone gives you a warning that the app is blocked, select: "more details" -> "install anyway")

8. if this worked, you should have youtube revanced installed, and you can log in like normal. if this didn't work, read the next part.

(under the read more are troubleshooting solutions + other alternative apps)

issue a) if the botom right now says "open"

1. select: 3 dots on the top right -> "export apk"

2. save it

3. open whatever file browsing app you use (most phones should have a default one that comes pre-installed called something like "files" or "my files". if you don't have one, you can go to the play store and search "files" and pick one. if you aren't sure, i use "files by google")

4. find the exported file and install it (it will be called something like "youtube-revanced-versionnumber.apk")

5. if this worked, you should have youtube revanced installed, and you can log in like normal. if this didn't work, you can read the next part.

issue b) can't build or install youtube revanced with no option to export

1. something may have gone wrong with the file installation at some point, so try a clean start. to do this, uninstall:

i. revanced manager

ii. youtube revanced

iii. microg

iv. (optional) disable/uninstall the default youtube app

2. follow guide from step 1 again, hopefully it works. if it's still not working, you can try other alternatives. i've listed some in the next part of this post

alternatives:

libretube, newpipe, songtube, vuetube, astron, puretuber

i haven't used any of these personally, but i haven't seen any problems with them. let me know if there are and i'll remove it from the list.

you can also use youtube through your web browser with adblock add-ons. i'm not sure whether youtube has affected their mobile site though. with the firefox app you can use ublock origins (for ads) + youtube high definition (for general quality fixes)

[shadow-the-crow]

Because i'm bored and i want to show off my weird brain: Tma characters as numbers

Jon: 48

Martin: 13

Sasha: 38

Tim: 56

Elias: 89

Gertrude: 72

Not!Sasha: 91

Gerry: 85

Michael Shelley: 33

Michael the Distortion: 75,8

Mike Crew: 44

Basira: 76

Melanie: 49

Daisy: 39

Nikola: 34

Jurgen Leitner: 81

Agnes: 45

Jane Prentiss: 74

Peter Lukas: 86

[rouge-the-bat]

some people are so weird about talking about opression as if its just a very cut-and-dry idea that ONLY EVER affects These people and never anyone else. when thats. really just not how anything works.

and then people act like saying this is trying to silence people and not let them have a word to define their oppression or something and its like ??? thats not what is being said ??? have words for certain types of oppression absolutely! its good to be able to have a term to use to spread more knowledge about what certain groups tend to go through!

but oppression for different groups overlap. to claim that x thing only ever happens to y people is just fucked up, because then YOURE the one trying to silence other peoples experiences.

and of course, just having a word to define what oppression a certain group goes through isnt inherently saying no one else experiences it, but some of yall certainly act like thats what it means and that perception is only going to divide you from other people and what things they also go through that are the same or similar to yours.

and it can easily influence the idea in ones mind that x people is The Most Oppressed and everyone else is The Oppressor (when oppression is an action, not an inherent quality of any individual of a non-ideological group), even when theres so many people that are hurting right alongside you and yall can be supporting one another and FIGHTING FOR EACH OTHER instead of with each other. remember, people that are actively trying to oppress others will ALWAYS benefit from people being divided and infighting.

[seventh-district]

babe wake up a new Venti-coded song just droppped

“I’m as sober as a drunk.

I’m as high as rock bottom.

Free as a man with his hands handcuffed to the bar.”

[crunchchute]

y know what askbox open for postal dude art requests. warning i might not do them at all but i kinda want some ideas. extremely tentative if i dont do any im sorry but if theres anythign funny enough i could sketch it out since i barely post art now

[strangerwheelerthings]

There sometimes seems to be such a divide in the Stranger Things Fandom in how people see Ronance. (All the characters, really, but this post is about Robin and Nancy specifically) There's the people who glance at them on the most superficial level and assume they understand them, usually by basing it on common tropes.

These are the people who assume that because Robin has anxiety and rambles that she must be the softer and more puppy-like character. They see her as the typical fun loving stereotype, the one who does no harm. Nancy is the stubborn one with the guns, therefore she's hard and girlboss central.

Then there are the people who pay attention to the characters and realize they are actually really complex characters that don't fall into one stereotype or another. These are the people who also see the sharpness and defensiveness in Robin's personality. Who see how quickwitted she is when not nervous, how observant and wary she can be. It takes her a lot longer to bond with and trust somebody, but once you're in, then you are in. They see the tender heart of Nancy, how much love she has to give with few outlets she feels safe to give it. She directs it towards her work and her purpose to help because she struggles with the idea of how to give it directly to people. They see her impulsivity and protectiveness alongside her stubborn inability to let things go.

[salfishersimp2]

So, lets talk about Viren and Harrow

I'm gonna start by making two points that in my opinion are obvious but a lot of people think otherwise so lets say they're headcannons or theories or whatever, beacuse most of this post goes around them somehow

1- Viren has a one-sided crush on Harrow, probably has been silently pining for him for a while (bro can't pull bitches, Aaravos and the mother of his children divorced him, Harrow very obviously doesn't see him as more than a brother or friend (at worst Harrow sees him as a servant)) (this crush theory supported by how the mf giggles like a teenage girl in love when Harrow makes a joke)

2- Harrow is trapped in his own bird's body for now, caused by soul switch spell Viren did using the soul fang snakes in the night the moonshadow elves infiltrated the castle

Okay so with that set, lets start ranting

I've been thinking about it, beacuse I couldn't make sense of it, and we know how Viren goes from wanting to protect Harrow (the man he loves) to killing Harrows' children (children he never seemed to hate before) just to become king and start a war right?

So I think that his will to start a war with Xadia comes from seeking revenge at their attempt to kill Harrow (even if it was provoked and he's still alive), this will later being mostly fueled by the dark magic's influence on him and Aaravos' manipulation.

Oh and why hasn't Viren already freed Harrow from the bird? (Without counting that the bird flew away and was never seen again)

Viren is probably very pissed that his crush was mean to him, after Harrow said he was like a brother to him, Viren wasn't expecting Harrow to treat him like a servant (honestly I would be pissed too, Viren knows he would never be anything near a romantic interest to Harrow but what Harrow told him hurt him, and I understand Harrow was under a lot of stress (he did just find out he'd get murdered that night) and doesn't like Viren's creative solutions, but it was still fucked up to treat Viren like that), and, Viren also knows that in order to have his revenge and conquer Xadia he needs to be king, so that he can control the army of Katolis and the other kingdoms will help him, he also knows that Harrow would never allow that, and that after switching his soul back Harrow would probably have him executed or sent to prison. At least at the start Viren's reasons to do what he does are understandable (not good, understandable, even if extreme), but then later what was a quest for revenge and the well-being of humanity slowly morphs into a quest for power, his own reasons lost to dark magic and Aaravos' wishes, even if Viren doesn't notice it

[kiwibirdlafayette]

I’ve keep thinking about one of your tags, specifically the “self fulfilling prophecy a display of a true role of an ianitee” and I would love for you to go into that!

if I may, I’d like to give my understanding of that and you can tell me how far off base it is.

With Redbeard it’s him thinking something will always go wrong around him whether he causes it or not. He chalks it up to his “natural unluckiness” and puts little effort to fox said issues. If we go to Capsize’s death, she gets threatened and he stands and does little to stop it. He crashes the first airship and brushes it off, he actively heavily drinks during the mission, like he for some of it causes his own misfortune.

For Jordan, it’s being alone within his faith. (This one I’m a bit shakey on cause I don’t think I have a good footing when it comes to his character.) He wants community but he does not find it with the pirates. Specifically with Capsize. Back to Capsizes death, he also doesn’t jump in to stop Furia from killing Capsize. Both Andor and Capsize end up getting imprisoned in-front of the group, although the reason why is different (to my memory) he doesn’t jump in to save either. He does find community with Andor though! But he’s now separated from him, so once again he’s alone.

Idk what Spark or Capsizes problem is, wish I did though. They probably have tons.

OH ok im sorry Im so late in responding Im gonna be honest. I completely forgot initially what I was thinking about when I made that tag but its finally come back to me ok. ok.

Basically what I think I was referring to in the concept of a 'self fufilling propechy; filling the role of an ianitee" is the kind of idea that champions of Ianite, or gods in general are tied to their deity in not just a follower kind of way, but like in a metaphysical manner- like where the principle of whomever they end up following are somewhat built into their characterization, and in the way worked into the fibers of their soul. Its present with the other gods/followers but its really interesting with the ianitees I think.

It may not necessarily be intentional or conscious on the part of the follower but essentially their morals, actions and the foundations of relationships are centered around what aspects the god stands for, and sort of act like a compass for them. So like in Capsize's case, I had interpreted Cat's post as like even though Capsize was born the "luckier" of the twins- aside from her name being that of a literal disaster- a lot of her actions to me take on a very heavy kine selflessness, putting herself at risk for like Red, doing things that would put her in a place of misfortune almost as a protective maneuver for others which I could almost call to be her fatal flaw. She has to be balanced in nature somehow to counter feeling like she's stolen Red's luck (from Cat's post, that line is driving me nuts in the best way), and that's how she does it.

And like, what you were saying with Jordan, his seeking of balance comes in surface level playing mediator between Tom and Tucker but like in a subconscious way (at least how i interpret it haha) its more got to do with yeah, like community. Jordan, as a character to me is very tied to the idea of home/closeness/familiarity, which ties into the lighthouse metaphor I like to cite between him and Tom (essay for another day before I go on yet another tangent), and his evolving relationship with the others over the course of the series. He, by nature is really drawn to carving his own path (i mean the man fully invents his own ass god) and has like an ambition that tends to isolate him from others (I haven't forgotten jokes in other SMPs about his house always being so far away from everyone else) but what he really craves, in needing to adhere to some kind of balance is closeness, a safe familiar place to rest his head, a lack of separation that he always ends up wanting to fully lean towards, but because of this balance thing- he can't have all of one or the other.

Spark I think follows a similar pattern to Jordan, and as a result as do Andor and Martha (albeit in different ways I'll try to speak on but I don't spend much time with their characters aside from the fact that especially in Ruxomar where Ianitees are kind of othered (cough queer metaphor, this is not an original thought but it makes so much sense) that to counter this oppression of their beliefs they too seek out community which is why Andor and Jordan get on so well.

Because Spark grew up with something different and we don't get much canoncially of him, its a little harder to analyze him, but if I had to give it a guess, I think his is moreso like he falls between two worlds in being the s/o of a literal goddess, that he feels an obligation to act as a mediator (as Jordan is), but rather between his two brothers-in-law, but instead between that of the immortal and mortal worlds, where like Capsize carries with him a protective nature to make them feel more in alignment. Essentially, in someway or another, giving agency and power to the mortal world and making the immortal world feel less distant and understandable/attuned to those who they rule. But its less a burden he chooses to carry, like a i must take control to bring this balance, and more a internal kind of responsibility to maintain his connections between both worlds, to keep himself together.

And Red, gods Red m8, I haven't dug too deep into him but I really like your take on him! Someone who I think is a really good example of how his unluckiness, rather than being something that unconsciously he wants to correct to find an internalized balance, instead has found a certain apathy to the notion that he was supposed to be the unlucky side of the twins, that i could almost say mans like found a neutral ground that way; sitting on a middle ground of having neither fortunate nor an unfortunate influence on the way things happen because either way he feels he'll only worsen it which. idk about you but Ouch That Hurts. Like he wants to strive for finding balance in having some type of influence of fortune, but its so out of reach he chooses instead to take a role of inaction

GAHHH theres so much brainrot that can come from this. I will be thinking about this forever. i hope i didnt fully just do the horribly misinterprets the characters LMAO any way. thank you for this

It eez what it eez TLDR; Ianitees come into the realm with an almost pre-determined alignment long before they consciously are aware of the goddess, a kind of self-fulflling that drives a lot of their emotional-moral compass in seeking a balance within them that gives them a role and purpose in the fabric of their characterization and relationships with others

[heywriters]

Details That Convey Intimacy

Developing fictional relationships that feel authentic takes more than dialogue and grand gestures. Every detail below can be used to show platonic, familial, agape, or romantic love depending on context.

cooking a meal for someone, bringing them food, or spontaneously sharing a snack

sharing body heat/warming someone with outerwear like jackets and scarves

fanning them with something if overheated

getting a cold/hot drink for them

offering to carry something, whether it's heavy or just a jacket, to lighten someone's load or free up their hands

more below the click!

changing the subject of a group conversation that will be personally discomforting to someone in the group

making sure to include someone in a group conversation, especially if it's a topic they have special knowledge of

waiting for someone to catch up when the rest of the group has walked ahead

remembering preferences/allergies ahead of time when preparing/ordering food

planning trips, whether in a pair or as a group, that provide something positive for every individual to enjoy

procuring personal healthcare items like sunscreen, moisturizer, lip balm, pain relievers, or a snack and keeping them on hand for that friend who frequently needs them

making room for someone in a crowded vehicle or on public transit

making room for someone under an awning or in another limited space to help them avoid bad weather

warning or wordlessly covering for someone with a wardrobe/cosmetic malfunction

remembering a small luxury someone mentioned they enjoy, and getting it for them the next time it's convenient

running an errand for someone to make their day easier ('importance of errand : depth of relationship' ratio should be explored)

escorting someone to safety in a sudden unsettling event

escorting someone who is drunk, sick, infirm, injured, or emotionally compromised

asking if light, noise, or other sensory factors are bothering someone and taking steps to make them more comfortable

getting gag gifts for someone to show you reciprocate their sense of humor or quirky self-expression (not everyone does this, not everyone appreciates it, and some people predominantly express love through humor and gag gifts; works well with some characters more than others)

holding someone's hand or arm as reassurance, especially when they are afraid*

using their body to block someone from wind, rain, or heat

picking up a dropped item, or carrying a train or other dragging garment for someone else

returning a recognizable possession to someone who may have lost it

This is an inexhaustible list as humans have many ways of showing love for each other. If you are writing spec fic with non-human characters, you can play with variations on these by remembering three core values the "lover" has to consider:

physical comfort of others

emotional comfort of others

social reputation of others

I'd add "sensory comfort" though I think it's tied to physical and emotional comfort.

Please do not try and force any of these into the mold of the misogyny-based "Love Language" trend. Human emotions and expressions of love are diverse and endless.

*While hand holding can be construed as romantic, in reality it varies. Some cultures do not see this as romantic, and some individuals only mean it as a sign of support or compassion. Same goes for long embraces and kissing, both can be done platonically and of course naturally between close family members or friends.

---

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[st7rnioioss]

WHEN BSF!CHRIS CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS AND THOUGHTS OFF INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... grinding, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), kissing ˚࿔ notes: i'd like to say beforehand this is a little further into their relationship! I'll add more background stuff later<33

chris was restless. he continued to toss and turn in your bed, finally settling on his side, one arm slung around you waist while gently tugging you closer to him, pressing your back flush against his chest while you were sleeping peacefully.

he tried to doze off, he really did. but sleep seemed like the furthest thing away when he laid there, listening to your soft breathing, as the only currently audible noise, feeling the way your chest rose and fell under his touch.

his mind was running a million miles an hour, and he couldn’t get it to stop. it was dirty, wrong thoughts—about you. his best friend since.. well, for as long as he could remember. it had become something more usual, but this time he couldn’t control it.

you’d always been attached to the hip, but never once had he thought about you like this. never had he wondered what you’d look like naked, vulnerable under him.. okay, maybe a few times, but never to this extent. you'd only gone as far as him showing you how to finger yourself properly, where he took over the job because he couldn't resist.

how would you react to his touch? would you reach for his hair? his arms? would you grab the sheets instead? what did your moan sound like?

the real question was why on earth he was having these dirty thoughts about you. you were the sweetest girl he’d ever laid his eyes on, so sweet it gave him a toothache whenever you’d innocently bat your eyes at him, begging him to go get ice cream with you.

gosh, make it stop, he thought to himself, groaning when he snaked his other hand down to try and ease his rock-hard cock, which only seemed to make it worse, hardening even more under his own touch.

he didn’t know what to do, and only to worsen his panicked state, you started turning, his arm momentarily slipping from your waist when you faced him.

your eyes were thankfully still shut, lips in a soft pout from the pillow pushing them together. the sight didn’t help either. nothing helped him ease his raging hard boner. you laid there, so pure, unknowing of his sinful thoughts while your peaceful, gentle look only made the tight restrain in his boxers worse.

sleep was out of reach by now, his hand desperately trying to relieve his aching cock with a groan by carefully rubbing his palm over the bulge—but then your eyes fluttered open. he stared down at you with widen eyes, almost in disbelief that he’d been caught somewhat rubbing himself through his pants, but you didn’t seem to notice right away.

“are you okay?” your soft voice was heard. “you seem restless..��� yeah, his constant tossing and groaning woke you up, but not enough to fully comprehend the situation chris was in.

“i- i can’t sleep. that’s all,” he whispered back, blinking rapidly while your eyes scanned his face, roaming every feature you were so familiar with.

speculating about his somewhat unsure answer, your eyes made their way down his chest when he let another whine slip, noticing the way his palm pressed against his groin, and you immediately felt ten times more awake than you were before. heat rushed to your face, before your eyes met chris's desperate gaze.

“oh..” you quipped, suddenly hyper aware of every movement of his, every desperate groan you’d heard behind you just moments prior now making much more sense.

“p-please, just- just let me.. let me put it in,” chris pleaded miserably, letting his free hands knuckles brush over your reddening cheek, his touch gentle as ever.

“chris- no, we can’t..” your answer only made his dick harden, though it seemed fucked up. you were so damn innocent, a prude even. you’d always avoided the topic of sex, not daring to go down that path ever. but he knew that when it came to him, you could bend the rules. “please- i’ll make it quick, i’ll just put the tip in. it hurts so fucking bad,”

but something about the situation caused you to turn curious. chris begging for your touch, begging to let him do something about his hard erection, to touch you.

“okay..” attentively, you turned around to lay in your previous position on your side, chris's hand slipping from the front of his shorts, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“thank you, thanks- thank you,” he babbled, his clammy hands making their way to the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly pushing them down your thighs, until they pooled around your ankles, that you continued to gently kick off.

“i promise i’ll be careful, just the tip..” his breath fanned across your neck, making a soft gasp slip from your lips.

your eyes were wide open and lips parted when he hooked his hand under your thigh, gently lifting it to spread them apart, carefully placing your leg back down as if you were made of fragile porcelain.

“o-okay..” you spoke quietly, your breath hitching when his finger made contact with your panties, gently tugging them to the side. “already so wet f’me..” his voice was husky against your ear, lips grazing the sensitive skin as his thumb slowly ran between your slick folds, a weak moan falling from your parted lips.

you were driving him insane, already dripping for him, and it only took a couple right touches and words. oh, how bad he wanted to keep showing you how to feel good, let alone be the first one to. he'd already gotten his fair share on that part.

you’ve never been more nervous, but yet you felt safe with chris pressed so close up against you. it was chris after all, he’d never do anything to hurt you, plus, he was always so gentle with you whenever it came to stuff like this. your hands tugged the stuffed animal you usually slept with to your chest, nuzzling your nose into the neck of the teddy, the soft material under your fingertips easing your mind a little.

“i’ll be gentle, angel.. no need to worry,” he whispered, one of his hands maneuvering his shorts down mid-thigh, along with his boxers, the other one gently running down the side of your face, tugging a few strands of hair behind your ear.

he wrapped his palm around his cock, fisting his cock with a lewd moan, before bringing the head of his cock to your entrance.

“i’ll put it in now.. it’s just the tip, don’t panic..” he mumbled, pressing a reassuring series of kisses to the side of your neck, feeling you nod. “go- go ahead..”

those words was all he needed, gently smearing his sticky tip down your soaked folds, before pressing it forward, watching it disappear inside of you.

“holy- holy fuck..” he groaned between gritted teeth, his fingers gripping at your hip, a weak gasp elicited from your mouth. “oh, chris..”

your moan was silenced from the soft teddy in your arms, eyes fluttering shut at the slow intrusion, letting whines fall from your lips.

chris nearly lost his mind when he felt your walls squeeze around his tip—it took every fiber in his body not to stuff you full of his cock, not to completely ignore your previous, innocent words and start fucking into you.

“gosh- chris..” you whined, nails digging into the soft fur under your hands.

you could practically feel the desperation seep out of him from behind you, his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you.

“m’sorry angel, sorry.. i can’t hold back, please say something-“ chris's voice was strained with despair, his fingertips digging into your bare hip, smoothing his palm over your thigh.

“it’s- its okay..” you whispered, words somewhat muffled, but coherent. he was thankful almost, mumbling continuous praise and ‘thank you’ into your ear, smoothing his palms down your sides, under your top.

it sure was okay, he could tell. you were drooling around his tip, only making it easier to slide right in—which he did. holding tightly onto you, leaving kisses down your neck and back, he pushed his cock further inside of you, slowly.

“h-halfway, baby.. you’re doing so good,” he husked, his heart pounding in chest as he stilled his movements for a minute, allowing you to adjust.

you couldn’t keep quiet, eyes rolling to the back of your head while they fell shut, biting down onto the plush toy to restrain the moans. yet, pornographic whimpers slipped from your gritted teeth from the painful yet delicious stretch, making chris's head turn to mush.

“fuck.. you’re so perfect,” he hissed, sinking his length in until he was fully sheathed inside your heat with a sigh of relief.

blubbered moans fell shamelessly from the both of your lips as he slowly rutted against you, a hint of pain striking through you as you adjusted to his size.

you knew it was wrong. so, so wrong. friends didn’t do this, they really didn’t. what was gonna happen after this? would you just go to bed and wake up just usually tomorrow, just treating it as a favor?

but even though, you never wanted it to stop. his soft touch, lips continuing their work on your lower neck, stuffing you full of his cock when he rolled his hips.

“does it hurt?” he purred, his hot breath mingling on your neck, making a slight shiver run down your spine.

“no… chris, it feels- feels good,” you breathlessly whimpered, gripping the plush animal between your arms as if your life depended on it, listening to the dirty squelching of your pussy, basically drooling onto the soft material between your lips.

he only nodded, feeling your walls flutter around his cock, clenching and squeezing the life out of him. your back arched just slightly when he hit a specific spot within you, moaning loudly into the stuffed toy.

“y-you’re doing so well.. so beautiful,” he cooed, the praise going straight to the pit in your tummy, feeling the tension tighten as your teeth nibbled on the soft plushie.

“oh- oh my god..” without any warning, the waves came crashing over you, your chest heaving while your grip loosened on the soft plushie in your arms.

“jesus christ,” he panted, his slow but rhythmic thrusts continuing, until he reached his climax as well.

“shit- i’m gonna come,” he barely got to say, before the ropes of white spilled inside of you, letting out a shaky breath at the release of tension. you felt limp in his hold, your face growing hot, and heart racing with lidded eyes.

“thank you, thank you angel,” his breath hitched as he slowly pulled out. his pink lips left repeated kisses to the side of your face, listening intently to your breath regulating gradually, the pants turning back to the soft breaths he’d been listening to just moments prior.

you let a small smile break, nuzzling your nose back into the teddy bear to hide your blushing face, as if your back wasn’t turned to him. “it’s fine…”

his fingers danced across your waist, making their way to your hip, giving it a gentle pat as a dazed smile settled onto his lips.

“come on, pretty.. we gotta go pee,”

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: none:3

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© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[sttoru]

hi!! could you write smut of sukuna w/ corruption kink x clingy reader? i need to see more of them 🤭🤭

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. smut, pwp. corruption kink. reader is described as clingy cute / innocent. voyeurism?// exhibitionism. double pénetràtion. cowgirl. cream pies. nicknames ‘slut, brat, woman’. combined 2 requests :3

it’s honestly your own fault. you’ve been sticking around sukuna the entire day, clinging onto him like he won’t let you experience the consequences of your own actions.

“eyes on me, brat,” sukuna scoffs, thumb and index roughly turning your chin back. he needs to see your face as he embarrasses you in front of the guests and other concubines standing around the throne.

you’re supposed to feel regret, yet you’re drowning in a state of pure lust. it’s the thrill that keeps your hips going, the ache in them temporarily ignored as you search for that grande moment of euphoria.

you can’t care less about the humans at the bottom of the stairs. they’re grovelling in fear of the king of curses, knowing their heads can fly off if they dare to look up at you two.

it’s a sign of disrespect—a sign that the king of curses can’t care less about what those lowlifes have come to see him for. sukuna’s doing so on purpose, using your clinginess to his advantage.

“hah, what a total slut of a concubine,” sukuna scoffs, leaning his head against one of his hands, elbow propped onto the armrest. this is a punishment for you, though it certainly does not feel like that. even if all attendants in the room can hear you fucking yourself silly on sukuna’s dicks.

you and those sloppy sounds of your two bodies connecting.

you try to hold back your moans, but a rough yank to your hair instantly opens your mouth again. your eyes roll back and your voice spews out. “mhh, my lord—‘s too much,” you whimper, however your body doesn’t stop bouncing on his cocks. sukuna responds by squeezing your middle while he watches his lengths being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

it’s funny how you’ve been reduced to a mess—a toy he can command to do whatever he pleases. your clinginess secretly pleases him, because it reassures him that you’ll do what’s asked of you. sukuna grins lazily, letting you work for it, “too much? tsk. weren’t you the one begging f’ my attention, brat?”

he does have a point. you nod mindlessly whilst his cocks drill into you—leaving no hole empty. your eyes dart to both sides of the throne, where two concubines are situated. you can see them tremble in embarrassment and envy.

sukuna’s showing you off to everyone and they don’t like it; none of the concubines do. they hate the fact that he chose you to show off to everyone else in the room. like you’re the only trophy he’s proud of.

the guests don’t dare to speak either. nor does uraume, who’s politely looking the other way as their master ravages his favorite little concubine. they’re used to his acts of exercising his power.

sukuna keeps a firm grip on your hair, threatening to pull your head back each time you dare look around you. “you have no shame. absolutely zero,” the king of curses says condescendingly. as if the humiliation of being watched isn’t enough, sukuna’s words add to the embarrassment you’re feeling, “cock hungry slut can’t go a minute without being filled, hm?”

your whimpers get louder and your pace grows faster. his fat tips hit your deepest parts over and over again, the stretch threatening to split you in half. you’re too turned on to care. the way sukuna’s staring at you with that menacing glare—his sharp nails digging into your skin so painfully . . . you need it all.

“this ‘s why you’ve been following me ‘round all day long,” sukuna grunts—one hand coming up to free your breasts from the confines of your robes, “y’ just needed to be dicked down.” the flicks against your stiff nipples make you tighten up around his cocks again and again.

you’re nearly screaming because of everything your senses are picking up on. your half lidded eyes catch a glimpse of sukuna’s cocky facial expression and you’re almost pushed over the edge. he’s so smug—knowing he has you in the palm of his hand.

his eyes are luring you in. there’s a hint of something so primal in there - a beast impatiently waiting to be unleashed - one that sukuna is trying his best to suppress.

“aren’t you just cute. . .” sukuna mocks with a dangerous chuckle. his thumb rubs your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth for you to suckle on.

“kehehe, isn’t that what those servants call you? cute.. innocent.. adorable,” he continues, faintly groaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb. sukuna cocks his head to the right and your eyes follow. that’s where you spot your maids and lady-in-waiting in a corner.

you feel tears well up in your eyes from both pleasure and humiliation. everyone is seeing and hearing you being claimed by the monster of a curse you’re riding. your maids have always adored your innocence—how you don’t seem to be tainted by sukuna’s advances no matter what. it’s a first to them.

it has been a rumor around the estate for so long; you being the only concubine who can withstand sukuna’s wicked influence. you always seem to stay yourself, your cheery and sweet personality never changing. you’ve been known as the innocent one among all other concubines.

yet here those same maids are, watching your brain being corrupted by sin. you’re so sinfully enjoying how sukuna’s cocks are penetrating you. “n-no, am—fnghh—don’t wanna,” you stammer, speaking to no one in particular. your inner desires clash with your rational mind and your body seems to continue its erotic act.

“don’t you fight it, woman,” sukuna brings your attention back by thrusting his cocks all the way up inside you, balls slapping harshly against your ass. he’s proud with his accomplishments. you’re slowly but surely being tainted by him and it’s so pleasing.

soon enough, that damned innocence of yours is going to disappear. he’s going to turn you into a total slut driven by lust, for him and only him. he’s going to ruin you and your body until all you can think of is the pleasure he can give you.

your nails dig into sukuna’s shoulders. you moan loudly, losing the battle, as expected. the king of curses just knows how to make you give in. he takes great pleasure in seeing you lose yourself, with everyone watching how he strips you from that innocence.

“stupid, nasty fuckin’ thing,” sukuna grunts as the lower pair of his arms hold you by your hips. he halts your movements before starting his own. “y’re mine, ya hear?” he pounds up into you—making you mewl. a chant of his name leaves your lips. you simply cannot stop yourself.

“yes, ‘m yours, my lord!” you moan for everyone to hear. the pink-haired man grins in satisfaction and quickly plunges his cocks in and out of your holes, needing to release himself so he could fully claim you as his in front of the rest.

his dirty cumslut, his tainted and brainless doll.

sukuna wraps all four arms around you, leaving no room for escape. he presses you against him until you’re struggling to breathe. your head is pushed against his shoulder and your insides are being turned into mush. the gooey fluids drip down onto the throne and down the floor.

“fuck. not a drop goes to waste or i’m fuckin’ ya again,” sukuna warns before shooting loads of cum into your womb and up your ass. both your holes are stuffed full of white, sticky semen mixed with your own release. you desperately clench around nothing once sukuna pulls you off his dicks.

you try to reach your hands out towards him as he manoeuvres your body away once he’s finished. the king of curses pins your wrists at your back so he can turn you around on his thighs, forcefully spreading your legs like a trophy he’s showing off on his throne.

one arm wraps around your waist and his chin rests on your right shoulder. sukuna keeps you on his lap and continues to act like he didn’t just completely wreck your insides.

while you’re left in the intense moment, he seems to have moved on already.

“speak,” sukuna orders the humans who’ve witnessed the whole ordeal. their foreheads are stuck on the floor—none of them daring to look up at the sight, like everyone else.

you’re panting and your head is spinning. you’re totally spent. sukuna holds your limp body up on his lap as one hand is busy scooping the excess cum back into your pussy, not wasting a drop like said before.

one of the villagers finally speaks up, stating the reason for their visit to the estate. their voice is muffled due to a loud buzzing in your ear. you’re tired and can’t focus on what’s said either. you just want to sleep. . . in sukuna’s warm embrace, filled and half-naked, for the entire room to see as they continue discussing business as if you’re not even there.

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (7) r.cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, little space, reader is feeling extra small, little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Finally!!

word count: 4.2k

In which your Daddy wants to take you on a business trip but you're feeling way too little to want to tag along.

masterlist

Rafe pressed his phone between his shoulder and ear, needing to free both his hands to attend to you. Tears streamed down your face as you squirmed around on the sunroom couch. Two small swollen spots were on your arm, bee stings, but you were flailing so much that Rafe could barely get a good look. Unfortunately, Rafe was on the phone when the incident happened, and he and Barry were discussing today’s important plans. 

“It hurts!” you cried out, and Rafe could only assume that you’d never been stung by anything before. You woke up pouty, with Rafe sensing that you were on edge, maybe disappointed that Lana had been gone for so long, but this seemed to be the final straw for you: “It hurts!”

“What’s all the drama, Country Club?”

“Got stung by some bees,” Rafe spoke tersely, trying to pin your arm down, “I know, baby, I know. Gotta get the stingers out.”

He pressed his body weight against your hip, gaining better leverage to keep you still. Holding your arm tightly, he used a card from his wallet to scrape the area side to side. This only seemed to distress you more, but this was the best way he knew how to get rid of them. 

“Please, please, please,” You begged over and over, “It hurts, Daddy.”

“She gonna be okay for the trip?” Rafe heard Barry ask. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. She’s gonna love it,” Rafe grunted, keeping you pinned underneath him. 

Maybe this was a sign, Rafe thought. The morning so far had been terrible and no good for you, he didn't want to add further to your discomfort. With relative ease, Rafe got both stingers out, but you were still in pain, that was clear, “Stay right there, don’t move,” Rafe spoke sternly before he moved from on top of you, “Gonna get you some ice.”

“Don’t wanna go–please don’t leave me,” Rafe huffed at your immediate refusal of his command. He had no idea why you’d gotten so riled up. For time and argument’s sake, Rafe lifted you into his arms. He carried you back into the house and towards the kitchen. 

“Sterling was pretty willing to stop stealing your workers and spreading rumors about the company, yet he wants to meet again. You don’t think it’s shady he wants to meet outside of Kildare?”

“He wants more,” Rafe said as he sat you down on the kitchen island. He grabbed his phone again with his hand as he started to rummage through the freezer, “That’s the only possible reason.”

“And you want to hear him out? What else do we need from him?”

“What, you don’t think we need him?” Rafe countered, “You’re the one who gave me the idea in the first place.”

“I just …” Barry started, “I didn’t think you would want to go further.” 

“I’m not–It’s not a big deal,” Rafe shook his head as he finally picked out an icepack. Rafe’s mind was split between the urgent need to soothe your pain and the looming business discussions with Barry. A huge real estate investment convention was being held at some fancy hotel in Charleston and Sterling had chosen it as the setting of their next meeting. 

With the ice pack in hand, he returned swiftly to where you sat on the kitchen island, visibly distressed and still sniffling from the bee stings. “Here, baby. Hold that against your arm for me. It’ll make it feel better.”

Reluctantly, you held the icepack against your injury. The tears had stopped falling, but Rafe could sense that you were starting to grow upset with him rather than the bee sting. 

Rafe leaned against the counter, trying to ignore your glare and focus back on the conversation. "It’ll be a good chance to see who he’s connected with, maybe find some new business partners. I wanna see what else he’s after,” Rafe explained. “You didn’t see how desperate he acted at the club … I know we can get much more out of him. Like you said, everyone has a weakness.”

“We could use his connections,” Barry conceded, “But you don’t think he’s gonna maybe want an actual chance with Bambi?”

“I know how to handle this. I won’t let him get close enough to think he actually has a chance.”

“Huh,” Rafe could practically feel Barry’s uncertainty through the phone.

“Barry,” Rafe continued, his tone sharp and commanding, “I want everything ready. We’re taking three cars—two SUVs and the truck. You’ll drive the SUV with two guards, and me and Bambi will ride in the truck, and we’ll need another two men riding behind us. You’ll lead the way to Charleston. We won’t need it, but I want backup, extra firepower, the works.” 

Without another word, Rafe hung up the phone call, throwing his cell phone onto the counter. 

Next, Rafe searched for the first aid kit underneath the sink, “Are you angry, Daddy?”

“No,” Rafe said, looking into your eyes. “You know how Barry and I talk to each other. Daddy’s not mad.”

“Who were you talking about?” You brought your uninjured arm up to wipe your wet face. 

“We’re going on a trip,” As you stared at him, Rafe pulled out a red first aid kit. He set it on the counter before he rummaged through it, pulling out the tools he needed. “Remember Mr. Sterling? Daddy’s got some business to handle with him.”

You flinched when Rafe dragged an alcohol wipe across your skin, but he placed a hand on your waist, steadying you. You were much more compliant, much calmer when Rafe’s skin was against yours. 

“Oh,” You spoke simply and Rafe searched your eyes for the thoughts swirling behind them, “My arm hurts.” 

Rafe sighed, finding the pack of bandaids, “I know, Bambi. You want a pink or green bandaid?” 

“Where’s the Cinderella ones?” Your lips pouted as you looked down at the options Rafe presented you. 

“I don’t know. We must be out. You can have pink or green.” As your frowned deepened, Rafe took a deep breath, trying to hold his tongue, “Pick. Or Daddy’s gonna pick for you.” 

Reluctantly you reached out a finger and pointed to the pink bandaid. Rafe carefully placed it over the sting. 

Rafe leaned back, studying your face for lingering distress. “After this morning, I think a little vacation would make you feel better,” he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m taking care of everything. I just need you to be good.” 

“I want Lana to come with us.”

“She has the week off, remember?”

“What am I supposed to do while you’re working? You can call her, maybe? Maybe she’ll want to come.” 

“She’s with her family, Bambi. All week. I’m not gonna bother her,” Rafe spoke, finality in his tone. 

He closed the first aid kit and pushed it aside. “You’ll be fine without Lana. You’ve got me. I’ll keep you busy.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your gaze, but you were still pouting, your fingers fiddling with the edge of the pink bandaid he’d applied moments earlier.

“You’re always working,” you muttered, looking down at your arm. “You won’t have time.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, but his tone remained measured. “When I’m not working, I’m with you. Today’s no different. You’re gonna love it. We’ll stay in a big room and you can order whatever food you want and they’ll bring it to you.”

Your lips twitched as if considering a smile, but the pout remained. “But Lana always packs good snacks.”

“Bambi,” Rafe chuckled, stepping closer to wrap an arm around your waist. “I can pack snacks. I know what you like, don’t I? 

“Okay,” you mumbled reluctantly. 

Rafe smirked, satisfied with your compliance, before he lifted you off the counter and onto your feet, “No more tears, yeah? I don’t like seeing you upset.”

You nodded, watching as Rafe returned to his phone and began typing furiously. Your face fell again, and you realized that you craved Rafe’s undivided attention. Rafe’s “work” was beginning to bother you. When you stood in place, he looked up at you once more, “Why don’t you go upstairs and start packing baby? Put on something comfortable for the drive.”

You parted your lips but closed them quickly. You considered just being grateful that Rafe was taking you along on his business trip. After all, you hadn’t left the island the entire time you’d been with Rafe. Wasn’t there part of you that wanted to see more of the world? You ignored that voice in your head. Today, all you felt was that you wanted to be in bed, cuddled up to Rafe. You moped all the way up the stairs, and once you got to your room, you plopped sadly down onto your plush carpet. 

Rafe tried to organize his thoughts and keep everything he needed to do in line. He’d surprised himself with how much responsibility he’d been able to handle after caring for you for so long. He certainly wasn’t the man he used to be. Every step he made now was for you. 

Still, he was beginning to realize just how much he relied on Lana, how much she had helped both of you. Now, it was all on him. Between packing business attire, sorting through important documents, confirming meetings, and delegating tasks to his employees, he also had to make sure his truck was ready for the road. And then there was you, your lunch had to be packed, along with plenty of snacks, your favorite water bottle adorned with pink bows, and a tablet with headphones to keep you entertained. More importantly, to keep you from overhearing the kinds of conversations he didn’t want you listening to.

He finally felt on top of things, Barry and his men had arrived, and the cars were readied in driveway. But the moment he climbed the stairs and stepped into your room, that sense of control vanished. His jaw tightened at the sight before him. You were sitting on the carpet in the poofiest pink dress you owned, tears streaking your cheeks as you fumbled with a ribbon, your small hands trembling in frustration as you struggled to tie a bow in your hair.

“Bambi, baby. We’re gonna be in the car for hours. It’s not dress up time,” Rafe chided. 

“Don’ wanna’ go,” You hiccuped. Looking around the room, Rafe saw no sign that you’d actually begun gathering anything for the trip, “Please.”

Rafe consciously took a deep breath to steady his heart rate. The last thing he wanted to do was take out his frustration on you when you were in this state. He walked over to your armoire and picked out an appropriate outfit for you. 

Sitting down on the carpet with you, Rafe easily grabbed you by your hips and pulled you into his lap, “What’s going on with you, huh?” Rafe asked, tilting your chin to look him in the eyes. He brushed a finger across your cheek, wiping away tears. 

You pouted in response and Rafe’s lips pressed into a thin line. He grabbed the thick tulle of your dress at your waist and started to pull it up your torso. You started to wiggle a but Rafe only pulled you closer, “Arms up, c’mon,” Rafe encouraged. He pressed down the urge to discipline, to become impatient at the fact that you were delaying their departure.  

Instead, he stripped the dress off in one swift motion, letting the poofy fabric pool beside you before reaching for the soft, light green Tinker Bell baby tee he’d picked out.

Sliding each of your arms through the sleeves, he tilted his head, studying you as he pulled the fabric down over your torso. "Are you too little to dress yourself today, Bambi?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. A theory was already forming in his mind, a quiet suspicion about what was really behind your unusual behavior.

You nodded shyly before laying forward, resting your head on his shoulder. “I see, hmm. You’ll need Daddy’s help then,” Rafe sighed, now fully understanding you were slipping into a younger head space. Instinctively, his hands smoothed over your back. For so long, you’d been determined to be independent, eager to explore the world, to make friends at ballet, to learn and grow on your own terms. He had been so focused on giving you freedom within the boundaries he set. He hadn’t considered how much comfort you might find in letting go completely. In regressing.

And now, here you were, seeking the security of his presence, of his care. Holding you tight in one hand, he reached into the pocket of his jeans. He texted Barry to give him twenty more minutes. He held you there for a few minutes longer and debated how he would coerce you into the car. 

“You want some bows in your hair, baby?” He asked after a moment and you nodded against his shoulder. He reached for the one you were fumbling with earlier, “Daddy’s gonna bring you to the bathroom, okay?”

He carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the cool counter as he tended to your hair. It wasn’t his best work but he managed to tie some ribbons around the two curly buns on top of your head, “Look, there’s my beautiful, baby,” Rafe kissed you on your forehead, then nose, then both of your cheeks, until you couldn’t help the small smile that formed on your lips, “Let’s get you ready. Don’t worry, Daddy will do everything.” 

He dressed you in a light, yellow tennis skirt with comfortable built-in shorts, the soft fabric swishing as he adjusted it on your hip. Packing a pair of converse in your bag, he let you remain in your flower-printed socks. He doubted you would get to the car in any other way than in his arms. 

Making sure you had things to do in the car and a few stuffed animals, he packed the rest of the things you needed, mostly outfits for the rest of weekend, into your suitcase. Satisfied that everything was in order, he zipped up your bright pink suitcase and set it aside. Now, all that was left was getting you to the car which, as he expected, would likely mean carrying you there himself.

When the two of you finally made it out of the front door, Rafe found Barry leaning against the hood of his SUV, “What’s the hold up?” Barry asked immediately, his sharp gaze flicking between Rafe and the way you clung to him.

Rafe was too focused, though. Without so much as a glance, he handed off your bright pink suitcase, dropping it into Barry’s hands with an unspoken expectation.

Rafe opened the passenger door, settling you into your seat and buckling you in. He placed a stuffed giraffe in your arms, making sure your water was in the cupholder, and you could reach your backpack. You looked up at him with sad eyes, your lips starting to tremble, “What is it?” Rafe asked, eyes full of concern. 

“Need Bunny,” you murmured, your voice small.

Of course, Rafe had forgotten the most important thing, your American Girl doll, “Where’d you leave her, baby?” 

When you only shrugged, Rafe sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Okay, stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Closing the door securely, he rounded the truck, his stride purposeful as he shot Barry a glance. “We’re leaving in two minutes.”

Barry scoffed but didn’t argue, watching as Rafe disappeared back inside the house.

You awoke to Rafe opening the passenger door. Carefully, he slipped off your headphones before pausing the Disney movie that you were watching on your tablet. You started to stir as Rafe undid your seatbelt. You whined, “Let’s stretch those little legs, Bambi,” Rafe spoke softly in response, “We’re halfway there.” 

You yawned, reaching out to him, even half asleep. Rafe tried to explain gently that he wouldn’t be able to carry you in public. To keep you from having a full meltdown, he promised he wouldn’t let go of your hand. 

You swung your legs over the side of the seat and Rafe was able to help you slip on your shoes, tying your laces quickly. When you finally got to your feet, you were wobbly. Rafe smoothed out your skirt for you, ensuring it wasn’t riding up in the back, before he grabbed your hand. 

“Where..” You started, pausing as you rubbed your eyes with your free hand. 

“Gas station. Let’s go pick some snacks, yeah?” 

“Candy?” You perked up. 

“One candy,” Rafe agreed. 

You spotted Barry, filling up at the gas pump directly behind the one Rafe had parked at. You liked Barry, he was nice to you, even if he usually had harsh words with your Daddy. He flashed his gold tooth at you, offering a small wave, but you tucked your face into Rafe’s arm, hiding yourself. You felt overwhelmingly shy, still, despite know him well. 

Rafe held your hand as you stepped inside, your eyes taking in everything around you with wide, sleepy curiosity. The air inside the station was cool and the fluorescent lights flickered softly above.

The gas station was quiet, typical for this time of day, with just a few locals milling around, most of them grabbing their own snacks or paying for their gas.

You clung to Rafe’s hand, your fingers curled tight around his, your sleepy eyes still darting around the store. You weren’t quite sure where to look first. The shelves lined with brightly colored candy wrappers drew your attention, but so did the rows of chips and juice boxes.

He walked with you toward the candy aisle. You let go of Rafe’s hand for just a second, standing on your tiptoes to try and see the top shelf. There were so many choices but your eyes always came back to a package of gummy worms. Rafe stood behind you, his arms crossed, watching as you took your time. 

You finally picked up the bag and held it up to him, the smile on your face shy. You glanced back at the candy before you asked with a small, barely audible voice, “One for Barry?”

Rafe looked over at Barry through the glass windows, still pumping gas outside, “You want to get something for Barry?”

You nodded and something flickered in Rafe’s eyes, something dark, maybe anger or possessiveness, “Fine, you can pick one thing.” 

When you’d picked out another bag of gummy wors for Barry, you followed Rafe as he grabbed a large bottle of water and a bag of chips. After Rafe paid for everything with his black card, you followed him back through the parking lot. You looked up at Rafe expectantly as you approached the three vehicles all of you were traveling in. 

“It’s your gift, you give it to him,” Rafe said. His look of encouragement was slightly forced but he placed a small hand on your back, urging you forward, “Go, little girl. I’m right here.”

“Here,” you said quietly, when your hesitant steps finally brought you over to the Barry’s car. In the passenger seat, you saw a tall and muscular man that you didn’t recognize. You looked away from him quickly, focusing on Barry. You placed the bag in his hand.“Candy… for you.”

Barry looked down, clearly surprised, but his lips curled into a grin. “Well, look at that,” he drawled, “That’s mighty sweet of you. Thank you, Bambi.”

Rafe, standing off to the side, shot Barry a sharp look, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. 

You nodded, fingers curling around the edge of your skirt before you turned and walked back towards Rafe. With one last glance toward Barry, who was still standing by the SUV, Rafe slid his hand to the small of your back, guiding you back to the truck.

The Uptown Grand sits in the heart of Charleston’s historic district, a five-star hotel that exudes old-world Southern charm. The bustling energy of the high-end real estate development convention provided the perfect backdrop for your Daddy's plans. He didn’t seem to flinch at the curious glances from the occasional attendee who dared to acknowledge his entourage. To most, he was a shadow moving through the crowd, and to those few who did give him a second glance, his quiet authority was all too clear.

Rafe sat you on top of a stack of suitcases that sat on the luggage cart, keeping you out of the way, as he handled checking in to the opulent hotel. A song from the Little Mermaid played in your headphones as your eyes wandered everywhere, to the soft velvet curtains, polished marble floors, and all of the antique, gold chandeliers. In the center of the lobby was a large fountain that added an unexpected calm to the environment. You watched as men and women in impeccable business attire navigated the space, their footsteps purposeful, conversations hushed but intense.

You shifted slightly, taking it all in, feeling like a quiet observer in a world that wasn’t quite yours. Bringing you back down to earth, Barry offered you a gummy worm and you happily accepted, having ate all of yours hours ago. 

You tuned out as Rafe began to push the cart towards the elevator, walking along with Barry, they talked about business things that you didnt understand. You adjusted your headphones, looking down at the sorting game you’d been playing on your tablet. 

You rode on the cart all the way from the elevator to the hotel suite. Your room had double doors and sat at the end of the hallway. Barry was in the room right next door and you watched as Rafe spoke some parting words before you both entered your room. The door shut and Rafe swiftly helped you down from the spot where you were perched. Still enjoying your calming music, you walked around the room, setting your tablet down on the coffee table in the seating area. 

The furniture and decor was extravagant, even more so than at Tannyhill. High ceilings stretched above you and warm light casted golden hues on the room. You wandered further, into the bedroom, finding a king-sized bed dressed in soft looking sheets and a tufted headboard that stretched nearly to the ceiling. The en-suite, visible from the bedroom, featured those same marble floors from the lobby and gold fixtures. 

You were still taking it all in when you felt strong arms wrap around you, Rafe pulling your body into his. He tucked his head into your neck, placing kisses there, until you were giggling. When he loosened his grip, you turned to face him. He slowly lifted your headphones, grinning tiredly down at you, “It’s been a long day,” He said, “A bath and then it’s bedtime, okay?”

You didn’t argue, just melted against him. 

He lifted you, carrying you into the bathroom. You sat on the counter, swinging your legs idly, watching him with tired eyes as he ran the bath, testing the temperature with his hand. You watched him undress, your cheeks heating up at the sight of his sculpted figure. After he undressed you, the two of you slipped into the water. You settled between his knees, laying back against his chest. He arms curled around your middle and for awhile there was only silence. Just the rhythmic sound of water against porcelain, the steady rise and fall of his breath against your shoulder. 

When you were close to falling asleep, Rafe guided a soapy cloth over your skin, getting you clean. 

“Bambi,” Rafe spoke softly, “I have to tell you something.”

You hummed in response, loving the feeling of his gentle hands, “This weekend is very important to Daddy. You’ve already been a good girl but I need you to be Daddy’s perfect angel. Everything I say, or Barry says, you do. Do you understand?” 

“Mhm, Daddy,” You murmured, feeling his arms tighten around you in approval, “Can I ask somethin’?”

“Course, baby.”

“Wha…”  You tried to put your words together, choosing each one carefully, “Wha do you want from Mr. Sterling?”

Rafe went quiet for a moment. You turned your head to peak at him, “Everything, I think.”

“Everything,” You repeated, blinking up at him. 

“Mhm,” He presses a kiss to your temple, “Everything pretty and shiny. All the toy’s he doesn’t play with correctly. He’s sitting on a whole kingdom, doens’t even know how to run it. Doesn’t know how to take care of it.”

You scrunched your nose, thinking, “You’ll ask him for it?” 

“Something like that, baby,” Rafe’s lips twitched as if he was holding back a smirk, “Just gonna help him understand. Help him see things my way.”

“Daddy’s so smart,” You sighed, snuggling against him. 

Rafe hummed, pleased. “That’s right, angel,” he whispered against your hair. “And my baby’s gonna be extra good for me, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled sleepily. “I’ll be so, so good…”

hope you enjoyed!! a reblog w/ your thoughts would be much appreciated :)

[swanpyart]

Honestly, there’s a lot of instances of the game where Jimmy’s intense rewriting of history really shows how delusional he is. And I don’t think these manifest from guilt, but from a victim-martyr complex: a lot of these are used to make himself look good to the audience, but the utter dissonance between these visions and reality make it terrifying instead.

1. The Birthday Party scene

It seems like something obviously scary, but it’s actually what Jimmy thinks his crew should do. He wants to be celebrated, wants to be admired, and up until he dies is still convinced he was just a well meaning guy who did his best. The party was not a guilt and fear ridden hallucination, but Jimmy deluding himself into thinking he’s the hero. His team should be thanking him and throwing him a party, even when they’re all dead by his own actions. In reality: there probably isn’t even any balloons or confetti, and all Curly sees is Jimmy and the rest of the corpses of the crew sitting at an empty table in a dark room.

2. Curly in the Chair attached to Wheels

The scene where Curly is attached to wheels that must be turned for his organs to sit right so you can feed him his leg is also a good example. This isn’t how bodies work, and Curly is a burn victim, so his internal organs being rearranged makes no actual sense; all of his health issues are external. No, this is what Jimmy thinks must happen; that Curly simply can’t keep down his food, and that all Jimmy needs to do is try harder to get him to eat it. Jimmy, in reality is probably just forcibly feeding Curly his own puked up leg chunk over and over again until Curly grows too tired to fight. And isn’t it like Jimmy to shove a square peg in a round hole and insist it’s the hole’s fault? Jimmy already has shown he’s perfectly fine with force feeding Curly already and is not afraid to get violent when doing so. The reality of that situation is that Curly was probably resisting as much as he physically could, but eventually grows too tired of the abuse and just gives in.

3. Swansea with an axe

And with Swansea, the entire sequence of Swansea chasing him around with an axe may be partially true, but a lot less even-sided in reality. Swansea was shown to have a temper, but killing Daisuke was horribly difficult and emotionally crushing, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright. Jimmy on the other hand clearly views Swansea as an axe wielding maniac who kills without remorse and wants to hoard the cryotank all to himself. I think Jimmy was hallucinating Swansea chasing him around, because I think it would be in character for Jimmy to witness Daisuke’s death at Swansea’s hands and, rather than think over his actions, instead become paranoid and fearful that Swansea would target him, too.

Cus think about it: while Swansea is bigger, he’s also a drunken old man whose grieving the loss of a kid he viewed like his own, while Jimmy is a comparar healthy younger man with a gun. Jimmy already has a track record for picking on those he sees as vulnerable (Anya being the only woman with her room not having a lock, Daisuke being the youngest and easy to influence, and Curly being physically disabled and unable to fight back). What’s more likely: that Swansea suddenly goes from sullen and mournful to an axe wielding maniac gunning for Jimmy’s blood, or that Jimmy is paranoid about an older grieving man and holds him at gunpoint to tie him to the chair?

Feel free to add more examples, this is fascinating