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freetheworms · 3 years ago

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okay so i’ve had this weird Geraskier trucker AU stuck in my head for a while and i just don’t know if i’ll ever get around to writing it properly, so instead i have compiled my headcanons!

(this got super fucking long somehow, so most of it is under the cut)

so Geralt is a long-haul trucker for a small, family owned company called Witchers Express Transportation (WET for short. haha)

of course it’s his family that owns it. Vesemir started it years ago back in their small town of Kaer Moren as something he could pass onto his boys, and to be honest, they all kind of enjoy the travel and a little solitude, although none as much as Geralt

Geralt truck is black with a wolf emblem on the side, because of course it is. Lambert’s is red with flames on it because he loves to fuck around and also i make the rules. Eskel’s truck is forest green because i just think that’s nice. Coën’s is grey (with flames because Lambert insisted he needed to “spice it up.”) Vesemir mostly stays at HQ and handles orders now, but his old truck was also black. none of that matters but it’s important to me that you know this

Geralt also has a black cat that travels with him in the cab of his truck like those adorable dudes on tiktok. i’ll give you one guess at her name ((it’s Roach. duh))

anyway. Geralt is out on some cross-continent haul, and pulls into a truck stop in Posada one evening, cause y’know. a man’s gotta eat. and drink. and sleep (if he’s lucky)

insert bard. i imagine their first meeting is essentially the same as it is in the show, except Jaskier is playing the ukulele instead of the lute because it’s modern times, and a guitar wouldn’t be playable in the truck. i am big brained

eventually Geralt goes to head back on the road once he and Roach are fed and rested, and finds he has a loud, obnoxiously-dressed shadow following him through the parking lot

“hey, so wait. okay wait. what if i, uh, y’know, came with you? like, in your truck?” Jaskier is running away from his stuffy pompous home life, and this big sexy trucker looks like his very climbable ticket

“you don’t even know where i’m going” Geralt is so not having it.

“well, no. i mean. you could tell me? but i don’t really care, as long as it’s not here!”

“i could kill you” Geralt is putting on his scariest face. it is decidedly not working

“nah, don’t buy it. i feel like murderous truckers don’t have kitten companions,” the idiot kid actually winks at him. “so, where are we going?” Jaskier is already climbing into the truck and Geralt, sweet, awkward Geralt, doesn’t want to have to rip him out of it so he just kind of. goes with it, begrudgingly. the kid probably won’t last long cooped up in the tiny cab, anyway

Geralt is very, very wrong.

Jaskier is happy to sit in the truck and look out the windows, commenting on every weird or mildly interesting thing they drive by. he’s also maybe a little too happy to flirt with Geralt at every given opportunity. Geralt definitely, totally, feels no ways about this, why would you even ask that?

Geralt keeps waiting for him to fuck off at one of the truck stops they pull into, but the kid just keeps coming back

if Geralt waits for the bard to finish his set, or his conquests before he drives off, that is definitely not because he likes the company. nope. he just feels bad for the kid, okay? it’s dangerous for a naive little fancy lad out here

oh, also. Geralt’s radio doesn’t work and Jask thinks that’s the most insane thing about this guy. i mean, travelling for weeks on end with nothing but silence and the occasional meow to listen to? absolutely psychopath behaviour. can’t have that.

so Jaskier spends a lot of his time in the passenger seat, composing songs about the various people he’s met on their travels, or about Geralt, and even once about Roach. Geralt pretends to be annoyed when Jaskier plays them in the cab, but secretly he’s realizing maybe he doesn’t miss the silence as much as he thought

Jaskier still gets himself in trouble sleeping with the wrong people at the inns they frequent, and Geralt of course has to be his Big Beefy Backup™️ when the occasional angry husband or wife tries to skin him in the middle of the motel lobby

Geralt is absolutely not jealous of the people Jask sleeps with. he’s not. nope. no, sir. he’s just annoyed at having to rescue him, is all

and if they share a bed half the time, it’s only because motels are expensive and getting two rooms seems like a waste of money. they’re just being smart!

so, they travel together like this for a couple of years; Geralt making deliveries (and excuses for the weird, overly friendly man constantly in his passenger seat) and Jaskier using all this experience to further his meager singer-songwriter career

they do part ways sometimes so Geralt can go back to Kaer Moren, or so Jaskier can try and record one of his now numerous ballads, but they’ve exchanged phone numbers (for safety!) and they somehow always end up coming back together

Jaskier absolutely did not turn on Geralt’s location sharing so he could “happen to turn up” at the same truck stop as his favourite trucker

so, yeah. they do this little dance around each other for almost 10 years before Geralt’s guilt finally gets the better of him on a bad day. he’s kept Jaskier cooped up in his tiny truck for far too long. it’s selfish. Jask deserves to see the world, and not from behind a windshield. he says as much, one day when they’re stopped in some shitty diner parking lot

Jaskier suggests they take some time off the road then, maybe see the coast together?

Geralt insists he can’t just leave his job, and that Jaskier should go on to live his actual life without an old grumpy man weighing him down

Jaskier does not take that well. “i’m the one that asked you if i could travel with you, you big brute! you don’t get to be all self-sacrificing about this!”

Geralt does not take Jaskier not taking it well very well. cue yelling. cue Geralt saying things he doesn’t mean about Jaskier holding up his deliveries with his dilly-dallying at stops. about Jaskier never shutting up and being annoying. about how he wishes he’d never met that stupid kid at the truck stop in Posada.

big “go on! just get outta here you stupid dumb animal!” vibes

cue Mountain Breakup moment. they banter, sure, but Geralt has never actually yelled at him like this. Jask gets out of the truck with a dejected “see you around, Geralt.”

they travel separately for a good few months, almost a year before Geralt starts to think he might go insane in the silence. he even considers fixing his radio, but something about that feels wrong. also he’s a little scared he’ll hear one of Jaskier’s songs play and lose his shit entirely

so eventually Geralt is home at Kaer Moren, moping more than usual, when Eskel somehow notices that Geralt and Jaskier are still sharing locations. Geralt didn’t even know that was a thing you could do??? How long has that been on????

Eskel just gives him this Look and Geralt realizes what he has to do

he sets out to find Jaskier, pinging his phone at some bar just outside Posada

well, thank god he did because he find a tipsy and very scared Jaskier in the back alley, about to get his shit rocked by a group of angry locals whose spouses he probably fucked

Mr. Big Beefy Backup™️ scares the 3 or 4 people off easy enough, but then comes the hard part. time to apologize for being a supreme dickhead, Geralt. go on.

Jaskier is still just standing there in shock because what??? just happened??? why is Geralt here? how is Geralt here? he knows for a fact Geralt would never figure out Jaskier’s location sharing trick on his own; this man can barely figure out how to answer a text.

he’s about to ask when Geralt finally starts speaking

and it’s an apology? from his Geralt?? okay, maybe he’s drunker than he thought

but no, Geralt really is apologizing, and he looks sincere. in fact, he looks downright miserable as he tells Jaskier he never meant any of it, and he’s so sorry he let his guilt get the better of him. says Jaskier didn’t deserve that hurt, and Geralt would never do it again. he’s really trying to be better. he will be better, just please. he just needs his bard back, if he’ll have him

the silence is deafening as Jaskier just stands there, gaping like a fish

he was going to shut Geralt down, at least for a minute. he was. he’s thought about this moment a zillion times, and he really was going to tell Geralt it wasn’t enough, that he’s worth more than that

but Geralt looks genuinely heartbroken and vulnerable in a way Jaskier’s never seen, and he can’t do it. he doesn’t want to.

so Jaskier steels himself and kisses him instead, because for once, he’s at a loss for words. because he’s a little drunk and he’s wanted this for the better part of a decade. because he’s afraid this is the only chance he’ll get

and when Geralt feverishly returns the kiss, Jaskier knows he’ll happily climb right back into that cramped old truck with him. knows there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than with this big, stupid man that he loves. he says as much

and Geralt smiles, actually grins as he says “i love you too, Jaskier”

Jaskier does set some new boundaries and ground rules between them though, because we stan Growth and Knowing Your Worth. luckily, Geralt is more than happy to oblige

and then they drive off into the sunset together to see the coast :)

also, Jaskier has never been more grateful for Geralt’s broken radio. there’s, uhh, no need for Geralt to hear his latest single, Burn Trucker Burn

wow. okay, well at this point i may as well have written the actual fic but Y’KNOW. maybe i will some day. who knows. let me know if uhhh if anyone would want to read it?? validation is my lifeblood and i’m real nervous about posting this for no reason

also, if anyone else for some reason wants to give this stupid AU a go, please for the love of god, tag me! i’d love to read what you come up with :)

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #gerlion #the witcher fanfiction #gracie writes #geraskier headcanon #what else do i tag #i really did not mean to write this much but apprently im passionate about the randomest AU i could think of #it literally came to me while i was laying in bed one night and wouldnt let go #also i forgot to add in ciri but idk how that would work with the whole #‘truck only has two seats and is also a horrible place to raise a child’ thing #sorry ciri... maybe you'll make it into the actual fic someday #anyway i'm obsessed with stupid idiots falling in love in every universe

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angorwhosebabyisthis · 2 years ago

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honestly like. the more i take it apart and examine it, while going into it entirely is going to be A Post or Three of Its Own and will probably get its own thread: i think one of the reasons nine in canon upsets me so much is that i genuinely related to the version of him that made sense to me, when i tried to apply some continuity to his character from before his imprisonment vs after. he's actually the muse i wrote for the most prose for in this fandom, even more than five--which is saying something!--and he came to me pretty easily.

[longpost and Decidedly Harsh toward canon's depiction of him, but less ARGFMSKDKDKFK HATE than usual so much as 'man the awful way these people handled him was a waste.' believe it or not i'm actually pretty attached to him, but as the secret Better Version that lives in my head lmao]

the arc of his character could have been such a good one about how men and boys and the people around them are harmed by toxic masculinity, and examining the ways in which that's held up by other cis men, every other configuration of gender and AGAB, and both. he came through loud and clear to me as an example of a poorly socialized, abused, isolated homeschooler with very little life experience, who is throwing bits and pieces at the wall that he's cobbled together from the outside without understanding the experiences behind that kind of thing, to see what sticks. all this while having suppressed and sublimated his emotions so much that he doesn't actually recognize what he's feeling, and goes 'well, i guess this trauma reaction to killing people means i like killing people. let's go then!'

like... in canon, you can kind of see how the seeds of his trauma, and baseline personality, from before his capture might have gone septic in the process the way it does in canon. if he was already the kind of person who would spit that result out on the other side. the writers used his Acute Trauma as an excuse to go 'anyway his cêpan was a sexist dickhead under the guise of ~respecting women,~ and he got captured by pursuing a normal teenage crush and blames himself for it, and then he went through solitary for a year. so now he's a gleeful sexual predator who harasses john and thinks women are meat!'

and this becomes even more glaringly obvious when you set it next to how the aftereffects of his trauma are (not) depicted. this kid spent a year in solitary confinement--broken up by the intermission of mercy-killing his adopted dad after watching his torture--while not being fed enough and hurting himself on the forcefield on the regular. he's not going to immediately come out of that Ripped and an Incredible Polished Fighter; he's not going to come out of that a ~charming edgy debonair lovable asshole.~ this kid knows what the fuckin hat man looks like, dude. that's shit you come out of an emotional, physical, and psychological wreck, and not in a 'haha look how rude and boundary-pushing and violent and sleazy i am uwu' way.

he is barely going to be able to walk out of there on his own two feet. he is going to be hallucinating and not remember how to tell faces apart. he is going to freak out at anything like an enclosed space. he is going to be food-insecure. he is going to be constantly finding ways to self-harm when he feels at all out of control, and once again not in a 'haha i'm so quirky and edgy' way. he is going to have obsessive rituals and get stuck on repetitive thought patterns because you run out of shit to think about after a year with nothing to do but pushups, even before you add in the shiny new PTSD events to obsess over. which tend to take up all of your brain space even when you aren't isolated with them for long periods. he is going to be doing weird fucking shit after he gets out, bizarre and frightening shit that's not just 'being violent and a dick,' and other people will probably notice.

and all of this is before you factor in his backstory! (which, by the way, is not conducive to him coming out of his imprisonment an Unstoppable Highly Trained Killing Machine. he was taught how to actually fight opponents for Three Whole Ass Weeks before he got captured, and none of that was training against human-shaped opponents. i don't care how many pushups he does over how long, he still has had zero practice fighting Other People and that's immediately going to fuck him over in a fight. it's one thing to have him be dangerous because he makes up for lack of skill with being completely fucking berserk with zero regard for his own safety or anyone else's, but he's not going to be an unstoppable whirlwind of death. and you're not going to build muscle while you're being starved.)

and like. i could go on for a long time about how they fucked up his character to the point where seeing him onscreen anywhere outside his novella makes me instantly want to flip a table. but i think so much of what it comes down to--and i don't say this casually, i mean after laying out and examining all his scenes in the first series--is that he doesn't actually have an arc. he doesn't grow. the entire point of his character's existence is to be an awful person and never be held accountable, self-examine, or allowed to face any kind of real consequences for it.

it's genuinely fascinating to examine all the different methods they use to do this (which is for a whole post of its own), but he's not an exploration of culpability or responsibility--for past, current, and future actions--the way five's arc is. he's just a parade of all the abuse tactics and rhetoric the authors could think of, both direct and via enablement by people around him, to pour into one guy. nine is literally The Missing Stair: The Character.

contrast this with five getting nailed to the fuckin wall for things that are often, arguably, much less horrific or unhinged than what nine does. he's treated like a ~broken, irreparably insane monster~ by characters and narrative both. he's punished brutally and endlessly over and over and over and over no matter how much he tries to grow, or make amends, or even lay down and take everything that might be done to him as punishment because he Deserves It for, [checks notes] repeatedly having been groomed and manipulated for years. If You Can't Tell I am a Little Bitter

and it's not just other characters who suffer for it. the creators are SO invested in nine never being accountable, by himself or anyone else, that he is PUNISHED FOR IT when he makes even the slightest effort to unpack. when he has a moment of vulnerability during a breakdown over fucking up, he is restrained in exactly the same way as when he had to watch eight die. this so that he can have his self-blame literally beaten out of him to make him 'stop moping.' the writers don't care about his trauma, or being compassionate or fair in their portrayal of it, or letting him heal. the only thing they care about here is getting to write a Missing Stair as a good thing, and trying to get you, the reader, in on it by forcing you to like him.

anyway just. man. they did nine so fuckin dirty and their version of him brings down every other narrative around it. i know i rant about nine a lot but justice for my boy

#lorien legacies #LL number nine #LL number five #LL crit tag #the crit files #nine is a platter of sushi the writers put in the microwave and [horse staring out over the ocean meme] man #also if you fix this SO MUCH about his parallels and foils with five snap right into place and it is CHEF'S KISS UGH #also lifts up john's arc in the process to 'kid with some pretty ugly qualities buried under Nice Guy surface; who has to grow past them'#'and does'#instead of 'oh gross wtf'#dyn: lost boys #like frankly i feel like it's pretty shitty to both neglected/abused homeschoolers and survivors of solitary confinement #to go 'ya that's what made this guy a sadistic bullying bigoted creep uwu'#instead of you know. establishing the traits of /his/ that would be brought out by that #there's also just. so much to be said here about how in the process of giving nine a pass for his cruelty and toxic masculinity #the writers also give a pass for perpetuating the cruelty of toxic masculinity toward men and boys against /him/#also like this kid self-harms in a variety of ways when he needs control and it's a pattern that starts from his very first scene #Writers Address Literally Any of This Instead of Portraying Men Self-Harming as Quirky Badass Peak of Masculinity Shit Challenge #LL tag

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arc-misadventures · 3 years ago

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Demon and Hero II

Ruby: Okay… this was not supposed to happen…

Nora: You’re telling me! I wanted to see some action!

Ruby: Bwah?! Who are you?!

Nora: Name’s Nora, Nora the Valkyrie of Thunder! You?

Ruby: Ruby, Princess of The Grimm Lands.

Nora: Well, its a pleasure to meet ya, Ruby!

Ruby: You too!

Nora: So… what are we going to so about these two…?

Ruby: Ehh… I don’t know… They should be fighting… But, they saw one another and well…

Nora: They because shy, stuttering, flustered messes?

Ruby: Yeah… Honestly, I’m a little scared; My sister has always been this cool and in command, never backing away from a fight always, never shying away in the face of danger, kind of Demon! And yet…

Nora: I understand; Jaune-Jaune’s always been cool under pressure, always has plan, a back up plan, and a plan in the making, regardless of the situation! And… it’s like his brain just broke down…

Ruby: Scary isn’t it…

Nora: Yeah… Hey, you don’t suppose this is…

Ruby: This is what?

Nora: Love at first sight…?

Ruby: What, no, that’s ridiculous! Although…?

Nora: I mean, look at that; look at those red cheeks, this has to be love!

Ruby: Yang’s never been like this before…

Nora: Well then, I guess there’s only one way to find out!

~~~~~

Jaune: Okay… T-That was odd…

Yang: Yes… it was…

Jaune: Sorry, my companion manhandled you into that chair, I don’t know why she did that…

Yang: It’s okay, she wasn’t rough or anything. Although I’m a bit confused why she sat us down at this table.

Jaune: Don’t look at me, I’ve given up trying to understand her seemingly random fits of madness…

Yang: Yeah… so… Uhh… Y-You’re the Hero… that sounds interesting…?

Jaune: Y-Yeah… it’s basically be a good fighter and look cool… sure I’ve got some special holy magic and what not, but it isn’t that special.

Yang: It’s not?

Jaune: No, it’s just allot of responsibility keeping everyone’s hopes up, saving people, fending off nobles trying to get me to marry their daughters…

Yang: Ohh~? The young, noble hero, doesn’t adore the woman throwing themselves at your feet?

Jaune: They want the Hero; the title, the fame, the political clout it brings… No one wants the person behind it…

Yang: Oh… I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know.

Jaune: It’s okay, I doubt anyone knows… Well, bar you.

Yang: I see…

Jaune: So… Demon Queen… what’s that like?

Yang: Most people think it’s just sitting on a throne of skulls and scaring people shitless! But, there’s a lot of work being a Queen; keeping everyone fed, keeping everyone in line, and good lord the paperwork, all the paperwork! And that’s not even the worse of it!

Jaune: That’s not the worse of it?

Yang: My throne of skulls… is ungodly uncomfortable to sit on…

Jaune: Pfft! Haha! Well, you are sitting on a pile of bones, ever thought of a cushion?

Yang: I can’t! I have an image to maintain!

Jaune: Talk about a pain in the butt!

Yang: Ha! That was terrible!

Jaune: Then why did you laugh?

Yang: Because I…! Oh, Ruby, what are you doing here?

Ruby: I an here to serve dinner!

Yang/Jaune: Dinner?

Ruby: Yes, dinner!

Jaune: Okay…?

Yang: Well, I am kinda hungry… so, care to join me.

Jaune: Well… I haven’t had anything bar rations for a couple of weeks, so this feast looks fantastic!

Yang: Oh good! I-I hope Demon cuisine is to your liking…

Jaune: Well, so far so good…

Yang: Let me know if there are any problems, Hero.

Jaune: J-Jaune… call me that instead… Hero is, a title, n-not…

Yang: Not your name?

Jaune: Yeah…

Yang: Then please, call me, Yang.

Jaune: O-Okay… Yang…

Yang: My pleasure… Jaune…

~~~~~

Ruby: Everything seems to be working, now what?

Nora: Now we take things up a notch!

Ruby: How?

Nora: Observe!

~~~~~

Yang: Is that… music?

Jaune: Yeah… its a song back from my home kingdom… it’s a song often played at parties.

Yang: Parties?

Jaune: For the nobility mostly, people often dance to it, as a means for finding a r-romantic… partner…

Yang: As in courting?

Jaune: Yeah… courting… Uhh… Can you… dance?

Yang: Of course we can! Demon’s may not dance similarly to humans, elves, and dwarves; But, we have a multitude of songs and dancing styles that we…?!

Jaune: N-No, you misunderstood! I wasn’t asking if Demons danced, I was wondering i-if you… could dance…

Yang: Oh… I-I can dance…

Jaune: Would you… would you like to d-dance… w-with me…?

Yang: W-With you…?

Jaune: Y-Yeah…

Yang: But, I don’t know how to dance to this song…

Jaune: I could teach?

Yang: You can?

Jaune: I know this dance better than my own swordsmanship. So please, may I have this dance, my Lady…?

Yang: I would be honoured to…

~~~~~

Nora: Ah ha! I knew it! Look at those faces, there in love, I’d bet my life on it!

Ruby: Wow, I’ve never seen, Yang look so happy before…

Nora: Oh this the greatest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!

Ruby: So… now what?

Nora: We wait and see…

Ruby: Wait for what?

Nora: Wherever love takes them…

///

Someone gave me an idea for a sequel, and I ran with it!

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #ruby rose #nora valkyrie #yang x jaune #jaune x yang #rwby dragonslayer

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nullio · 2 years ago

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I haven't seen other ppl say this (but maybe I just haven't looked hard enough)

That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil is a song abt a married couple trying to have not-boring sex right??

Like, obviously all their songs have deep and complex themes/meanings but surface level its a song abt sex right

I will now analyze the lyrics and show how I came to that conclusion

"...And I make sure the bairns are fed

You turn the telly on to drown out your fear

You make the bed up silent on the floor, so no one will hear us

You try so loud to love me..."

Exhibit A I guess, so when I read this the picture I get is a married couple putting their kids to bed [bairns: Scottish / Northern English slang for kid] and the Dad, in an attempt to keep things quiet, sets up sheets on the floor so they can stay quiet while they boogie

The lyric "You turn the telly on to drown out your fear" is especially intriguing because OBVIOUSLY you don't want your kids to hear you fucking, that shit is traumatizing, but the word fear got me there- listening to the whole song I get the feeling that the Dad figure is scared/ashamed of his sexual nature

"You try so loud to love me

I cannot seem to hear"

These lyrics hit home the vibe for me that effort is being put in but the feeling, the spark isn't there

"But beneath all of our panting..."

This one feels obvious, Sex -> Things get steamy -> Panting

"And as you grip me like an animal that you're about to spear"

In this example, my dear reader, the "Spear" is his "Penis"

"And we fall into each other, the scratching grows so loud

Because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out"

According to my sources (my brain and 1 Google result) the phrase "fall into eachother" can mean to fall in love and/or to initiate sex

This is a good time to mention that I consider the actual "Unwanted Animal" in the song is a metaphor for desire/lust/passion etc

The couple (mostly the Mother character) are used to suppressing this extreme desire but the monotony is getting to be too much and the "Animal" (the desire) has grown too strong

"And I scream, "What's the time, Mr. Wolf?"

But you, you're blind, you bleat, you bear your claws"

OKAY OKAY SO APPARENTLY

"Whats The Time, Mr.Wolf" is a popular UK playground game that's similar to "Red Light Green Light" if ur American

Rules are as follows: The players chant "What's the time Mr Wolf" and the wolf replies with a time. The players hop that number of spaces forwards on the hopscotch court. If "Mr Wolf" answers with "It's dinner time" the players try to run back to the beginning of the hopscotch court before they are caught by "Mr Wolf".

So wtf does that mean here?? 🤔 I could b grasping at straws but if we're playing by thr rules of the game, I take it as Mom asking Dad if she has permission to move closer and/or if it's "Dinner Time" a.k.a time to 👏get👏things👏moving

"Oh, and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours

And our screaming joins in unison, I cry out to the Lord"

Not gonna, this kinda threw a wrench (a spanner, haha) into my whole theory- it sorta draws the line of

"is this a song abt repressed lust and boring sex? or a loveless/abusive marriage finally boiling over???"

Anyway, either 'ripping the ribcage open and devouring' is a metaphor for cunnalingus or a metaphor for an argument

"Well, hello, my hollow Holofernes"

I wink, but you don't get the joke"

Everybody and their mother have tried to figure out what in the sam hell "Hello my hollow Holofernes" joke means and noone has gotten an answer

From context clues like the winking and the fact that it is a joke, I can only assume that she was trying to make a euphemism and it flew over everybody's head

"Be good to me, " I beg of him

"Be good to me, " I beg of him..."

"...And he replies (oh), "No, no, not I"

Again, this lyric here is throwing me off and makes me wonder again, if this is a song abt repressed lust/boring sex OR loveless/abusive marriage

The last thing I can say abt all this is that it seems TAD have a lot of religious imagery in their songs, including this one

(DISCLAIMER: I was not raised religious in the slightest, I'm going off of what I've seen other people say)

from what I've gathered abt religion, specifically Catholicism and Christianity is that there's a lot of shame surrounding sexual desire so, that helps there (and again 🥲 i know next to nothing abt religion so that could all be an entirely false takeaway)

So that was fun, lemme know what u think. Maybe I'm not alone in this theory, maybe I just haven't looked hard enough. XoXo

#she speaks #TAD #the amazing devil #joey batey #madeline hyland #folk #folk music #alt folk #music #music theory #*bites you*#that unwanted animal #the horror and the wild

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atherix0 · 2 years ago

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A glorious morning for me, Mumbo lover, to wake up, roll over, and see you posted a roughly 5k word chapter of Scarian. Mwah. I am choosing to believe. That got way too gay. This is scarian now.

SO FIRST OF ALL Grian waking up and realizing that A. He's in Scar's bedroom, B. Mumbo is in scar's bedroom, and C. His stomach is doing flips because he's looking down and seeing Mumbo in Scar bed and it likely smells like mumbo and scar together and his little bird brain -- god yes.

Going down, seeing Scar in the morning, as if he's his boyfriend who just woke up and is coming to give him a morning smooch is truly something. I cant believe the two of them decided it was Normal and Fine for a frumpy, sleepy Grian to just Appear. Mmm mm mmmm mmmmmmmmmmm. And that Scar made him pancakes and that Grian was just able to tear Scar away from his work and Scar isn't even putting up a fight at all oh my god. GRIAN CALLING SCAR PRETTY AND THE TWO OF THEM JUST SITTING WITH THAT. THIS IS GAY, GENTLEMEN. YOU ARE BEING BOYFRIENDS. I AM SHOUTING INTO A MEGAPHONE BUT LO, I AM A TINY FROG.

OH MY GOD THE ANTIQUE SHOP I can just. Picture. Oh to be a fly on the wall [I guess we all are tbf] watching the two of them talk about this ELVEN ENGAGEMENT JEWELRY AS IF THEY WERENT JUST THE GAYEST TWO BEINGS ALIVE IN THIS MAN'S HOUSE. Oh my god and for that to reveal so much of Grian on accident, for scar to rapidly realize so many things without either of them saying a fucking word. OOOO BOY they are gonna have to have a T A L K with this bird. I mean there's no way Scar is gonna talk to mumbo about it [unless,,,,,,] but my god do they need to have a Talk tm.

AND THEN THE WAY THAT BEAUTIFULLY TRANSITIONED TO "Well maybe you should give Mumbo some of your feathers" THE WAY THESE MEN DEFLECT DO THEY REALIZE THEY ARE BEING SO VERY GAY. oh my god scar is gonna have some of grian's feathers on day and he doesnt even realize it. oh my GOD I am SCREAMING down the BOATEM HOLE and into THE VOID.

Also the fact that Grian knows how to repair equipment. The fact that Grian has been shown to be a remarkable fighter when he's not panicking. The whole "I killed our gods" Grian pulled on Mumbo a while back only for Mumbo to be like "I dont think he's ready to talk about That so I'm not gonna bring it back up" AND NOW SCAR KNOWS WITHOUT KNOWS HE NOWS SO MUCH WITHOUT WORDS TO THAT KNOWLEDGE AND I AM MELTING. ASDFGHJKJHGFDSDFGHJHGFD GOD. G O D.

Oh man Mumbo Lover, you are about to get fed so well HA that chapter was absolutely 5k words of Scarian, no doubt <3 It got super gay

Bird brain just like <3 hhh but he just being like "haha this certainly doesn't mean anything we're fine it's cool we're okay <3" lmao

The entire time I was writing that scene I was just thinking about the people Scar was just speaking to seeing this unfamiliar man come out of the back of Scar's shop with messy hair and rumpled clothes at noon and was giggling the entire time because you KNOW they all think that is definitely his boyfriend, they're so Normal about it like it's not completely domestic-y like hjgfdjkk= Scar takes care of his guests <3 He probably made some for Mumbo too but Mumbo doesn't really think much about Human food, he just indulges every now and then lmao <3 Grian is a demanding little bird and Scar is too willing to let him have his way haha <3 LMAO THE GAY PANIC THEY BOTH HAD AT THAT MOMENT. Grian doubling down and trying to play it off as a joke and Scar taking that out but they both Know(TM). They know. They gay but oo boy-

I too love antiques so much and could spend every last dollar I have in an antique shop so. BUT YEAH LMAO I'm sure the fact that Grian is now in possession of Elven jewelry that giving basically means "I wish to court/marry you" is totally not gonna be significant in any way later down the line right? <3 Grian really said "I was taught how to fix metal things like weapons" and Scar, literal Elven prince who was born into a palace and was taught to MAKE things but never taught how to FIX things because he is a royal, went "um Birdie uh I'm about to flip your entire worldview with a single question" and just hjfdskj <3 They all need to Talk(TM), and oh boy don't they know it. Or at least Mumbo does hjkfdsljk Grian and Scar are both like "deflection and distraction is a healthy communication skill correct?"

THE DEFLECTIONS, THE "we'll unpack all that later at an undetermined point in time," THE GAY, AND YEAH HAHA I totally 100% intend for them all to have something that represents each of their cultures <3 I AM SCREAMING WITH YOU, and I'm the motherducker who's writing it <3

:) Gods they need to talk about it haha SCAR IS ONLY EVER OBSERVANT WHEN IT COMES TO OTHER PEOPLE'S INTERNAL STRUGGLE HE SAW GRIAN'S LIFE PERCEPTION SHATTER IN THREE SECONDS AND KNEW SOME SHIT WENT DOWN and now they need to talk to Mumbo because Holy Shit <3 Mumbo be like "I'll wait for Grian to be ready to talk about it" but if he waits then they'll never talk about it anf jhkfds-

#Ask #Midnight Series #Hermitshipping #Mumscarian #should I start putting these long answers under a readmore? Maybe #my apologies to mobile users

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Steamy waters — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 7.8k

Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, mini tiny angst; established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello teddy bears! I was supposed to take a small break today, but I decided that I wanted to keep working on Steamy Waters since it was Hobi’s turn and it could be an awesome chance to gift this job to an incredible writer who I’m getting to know these days. It was her birthday recently and I thought that I could offer her this small thing as a two-day-late birthday gift. Happy birthday, @xjoonchildx !

As most fics I write, this can be read as a standalone, however, just to find the right vibe (*haha foreshadowing is a lovely thing*) I decided to ideally set it after The Studio.

For those who haven’t read it, I’ll run a quick recap.

Giggles has moved into Hoseok’s apartment, but unfortunately he couldn’t help her since he’s been incredibly busy working on a new project. Giggles was very angry and visited his studio. Since he feels horrible, he asks her what he needs to do for her to forgive him. Giggles states her conditions and decides to proceed with the plan that brought her to his studio, tying him up to his chair and toying around with sensation play before giving him head, their reunion culminating in very emotional and heartfelt fucking (it exists, look it up in the dictionary).

Now, as Hoseok drives her back to their home, he can’t stop thinking of how she took the reins, but also he can’t wait to make her pay for the incredible amount of torturing she put him through. Plus, he’s still thinking about the content of her totebag… As soon as they get home he decides to hit the shower, the water clearing up his mind and helping him organise all his ideas into a plan. That is, if Giggles doesn’t play her wildcard first.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Master!Hoseok, sub!reader; Bondage (rope and manacles), mentions of tickler, riding crop, flogger, mentions of squirting; mentions of angst related to Hoseok being busy with his job and not supporting his girlfriend as she moves in his apartment; ben-wa balls; massage oil; grinding and masturbation (male and female receiving); very brief oral (female receiving); multiple cumshots and cumplay in general, mentions of cum eating; a very fancy riding crop; sensation play; tickle play; overstimulation; laugh fetish, crying (from overstimulation); and finally vibrating cockring and multiple orgasms. Have I ever mentioned Hoseok likes changing positions a lot? Well, anyways, suit yourself.

[Ana, if any of this stuff triggers you I am extremely sorry and you are allowed to request a refund for this messy, unedited gift, and I’ll make sure I can offer you a wholesome, cuddly Hoseok taking reader on a cute date and spoiling her rotten with love and affection 😅😊]

Here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy this (for now unedited) mess ✨💜

——————————————————————

Hoseok’s eyes kept wandering between the red traffic light in front of him and the cotton tote at your feet as you sat on the passenger seat of his car, headed to your apartment.

Your shared apartment.

Your home.

He was still trying to understand how you had found the courage to turn his toys against him, to play a role he’d never imagined you in.

You and your pretty eyes and your cute smile and your lovely hair, and your delicate, tiny hands, teasing him with the tails of his flogger, pushing it against his face, making him guess with a blindfold covering his eyes.

He shut his eyes shaking his head energetically as he focused on driving, starting the car once he saw the car before him starting to move forward.

You were laying with your head against the headrest, eyes closed, peaceful while he drove.

He was the best driver in the universe and being in a car with him felt relaxing. You felt safe. Which is pretty rare to you while being in a car with anyone else.

Once you reached the parking lot under his building, you opened you eyes, blinking a couple times. He bent to your forehead, placing a gentle kiss between your eyebrows. “We’re home, sweetie.” He whispered, unlatching your seatbelt.

“Already here?”

“You fell asleep for a bit.” He said, caressing your hair off your face and cupping your cheek. “Let’s head upstairs, Giggles.” He said, undoing his seatbelt and exiting the car.

You laid one more second before opening your door, getting ready to exit just as he appeared before you, offering you his hand.

You took it and climbed off his suv, shortly before he bent forward and took your bag, closing down the car. He placed his arm behind your back, around your waist, pulling you into his side as you stood in the lift. “Are you sleepy?” He asked, poking your cheek and smiling tenderly at you.

You thought about it. Yes, you were a bit sleepy, especially after how he had used you in his studio, and the strong emotions that had possessed you there, however you could perceive his energy, like the humming, crackling sound of static, which made you impatient and oversensitive. You could almost hear his brain plotting and you felt at a few seconds away from snapping at him and tell him to do it already.

“Not that much.” You replied.

You reached the front door and he unlocked it, walking in and taking off his sandals, placing your bag by the door, and extracting its content.

Rope. Flogger. Riding crop. Tickler. More rope. Another bundle. How did you intend to use all that rope, he asked himself as he frowned, headed to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and put the rope on the box he kept under his side of the bed, resembling a small container to store away clothes but actually containing bundles and bundles of rope in different colours, and other smaller boxes. He looked specifically for one, extracting it and placing it over his bedside table.

You didn’t speak as you saw him extract a small bag with toy cleanser and a rag, the other three toys laying at his side as he sat on the bed with his legs spread wide, holding the rag with his right hand and spraying the cleanser with the left one, putting the bottle down before he grabbed the flogger and started to wipe the damp fabric over the leather.

You stood at the door, leaning against the doorjamb, staring at his hands as he used his left one to hold all the tails but one, which he caught with the rag and wiped clean. Moving it aside, he proceeded with another one, his strong and slender fingers stretching to keep the two groups separated.

Those beautiful hands.

You walked closer, around the bed, climbing up behind him and placing your mouth against his neck. “Your hands are so pretty.” You whispered, staring at his digits skillfully handling the toy.

He smiled. “You have mentioned liking them, a couple times.” He replied before chuckling.

“Will I have them inside me again before tomorrow comes?” You asked, mouthing at his ear.

He shrinked, trying to run away from the tickling touch of your tongue. “I thought I had already fed you, hungry little monster.” He said, finally done with the twelve tails and wiping the handle before he bent down to put the flogger into its longer box, wrapping the tails loosely around the handle.

“You were fucked out, almost into dreamland five minutes ago.” He commented, spraying some more cleanser and wiping the wet cloth over the riding crop. You parted your legs wide as you sat on your heels, trying to push your hips against his back for some friction.

“That was five minutes ago.” You replied, your hands skimming down his arms and stopping at his wrists, wrapping around them. “Before I saw these.”

Hoseok had his hottest looks. When he was on stage rapping. When he was sweaty on top of you. When he grinned and licked his lip before biting it, with that specific cocky smirk after making you cum. When getting ready to wreck you. When getting his toys ready to wreck you.

And the fact that he always double cleaned his toys — before and after use — created this sort of vicious circle where you couldn’t understand whether he was done with you or simply getting ready to start again.

Your life was like a pendulum swinging to and fro between arousal and pleasure — to incorrectly quote Schopenhauer. And as much as he was your sweet boyfriend, taking you on picnics and covering you in gifts and letting you pet all the dogs you met on your walks, he was you greatest source of pain and pleasure, in the most addictive, perfect mix of the two.

In this moment he embodied that, precisely. Because, no matter how spent you had been twenty minutes ago, you were once more ready and craving.

“Stop rubbing your sweet, soft pussy against me, little bird.” He murmured, placing down the crop in another box and placing the lid on it.

“Please, master.” You called in your most tantalising voice.

He cleaned the handle of the tickler, spraying some cleanser in the air before letting it fall over the feather, flicking it a couple time with strong snaps of his wrist.

And that’s why you loved him with a flogger.

He placed down the tickler in a third box, where laid another fancy stick culminating in a small rectangle of fur.

You stretched your neck to stare at it longingly before he closed the lid and zipped the large box closed, placing the cleanser inside and throwing the cloth on the floor.

“Go shower, little bird. You’re still messy from earlier and you need a nap.” He said, shortly before noticing your pout. “What is it?”

“I want your fingers. And the tickler. The furry one.” You said, lacing your fingers with his and feeling his strong knuckles.

He stood up and turned to face you, your arms getting tangled up together. He tugged at you, bringing you closer to the edge of the bed before freeing his arms, pushing your wrists together and grabbing your chin.

“I said: go shower.” He chastised, his voice so, so serious.

You frowned at him. “What if I don’t?”

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, swatting at your mouth in scolding, but at the same time with infinite care. He wasn’t the type to hit someone’s face, even though in moments like this he really wanted to.

You had never been a brat. Of course you had bratty moments, but he never had to discipline you like that. You are his sweet baby, his little bird, delicate and obeying. Why would you challenge him like that.

You turned your face away from him as he studied your warmongering stare.

“Little bird. Go shower. I’ll join you in a bit.” He said, his eyes perusing your lineaments.

You stood up and walked to the en suite bathroom, making sure that he was staring at you as you stood on the corridor and took off your clothes in quick, angry movements, your trousers coming off together with your panties, then loudly and indignantly you walked your way into the bathroom.

Hoseok stared at your scene, quite ignoring what made you snap, but pretty sure about how to ease your temper. Quickly he re-opened the box and extracted two sets of manacles, studying his bed before realising how he could possibly fix that.

Nodding at himself, he took out a smaller bundle of rope, starting a hook around two bars in the middle of the headboard.

Staring at the layout, he changed his mind again, undoing the knot at the headboard and moving it down, at the feet of the bed, lifting the mattress and looping the rope around the bed stave closest to the corner of the mattress and placing the rope neatly on top of the bed, the two tails perfectly parallel to each other, without overlapping.

He repeated the gesture on the other corner, meanwhile thinking about what knot he could possibly use to embellish your ankles.

Next, he secured one band of each manacle set to the sturdy columns at each corner of the headboard, opening both loose bands and preparing them to welcome your wrists.

Moving to your end of the bed, he searched for your box, finding it just behind the edge of the mattress. He lifted the lid and looked inside, observing the content with an eyebrow raised, face completely impassible. Spotting a familiar tool, he picked it up in his palm, trying to think of how he could use it. Giving up on the idea — a shower scene allowed poor lubrication — he considered another option.

He chuckled to himself and looped his finger through a small ringlet, extracting a series of silver balls attached by a silicon string. “Hell, yes.” He murmured, closing the box, already savouring how sensitive you would be after having those inside you, and how incredibly responsive your cunt would be to his fingers once he pulled the spheres out of you. He fixed your box back in place, ready to reach you in the shower when he took a couple steps back, looking at his own box again, sucking at his lower lip.

Fuck it. He bent down and found a smaller box, substituting the one on top of his bedside table and placing his furred riding crop in a handy position, but at the same time out of your sight. Laying it on the small bench at the feet of the bed, he placed the pillows on top, baring the bed and making sure that the mattress was covered in waterproof bedding, just in case.

Satisfied with the layout, he took off his sweater and jeans, collecting your clothes too and leaving all of those in the small chest with the dirty laundry.

Now he was ready to follow your furious warpath.

Standing at the door in the bathroom, he stared at you, your eyes closed as you rinsed your shampoo out of your hair, all the suds rolling gently down your body.

You looked majestic. And so gracious.

He toyed with the metal spheres in his hand, rattling them a little to signal his arrival.

You spotted him and turned away.

Took you long enough, you thought, ignoring his presence. And next thing your knew, his right hand appeared at your waist, sliding down to your belly button.

“Do you want me?” He asked, pressing his mouth below your ear, his hips getting closer to you.

You were still feeling a bit petty. But also very horny.

He simply hugged your back to his front, waiting for your approval before touching you between your legs, his fingers tiptoeing around the imaginary line connecting one hipcrest to the other.

“Do you want me, though?” You asked tensely.

He kissed down the muscle of your neck, moving toward your collarbone. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry I’m so angsty.” You said, turning around and hiding into his slim chest.

“It’s okay, little bird.” He said, relieved that his loving girl was back. “I woke you from your nap in the car. You’ve had a stressful week and I was away.” He ran his free hand down your spine, caressing it with the very tips of his fingers. “You were needy and I bet you didn’t even have the time to take care of yourself.” He bent down to your ear. “And if I’m not mistaken it’s been two weeks since you last had your period.” He tutted and cooed as he drew his nose down your sensitive neck. “You must be so needy.”

You felt like collapsing. It was so good to be his. “I love you.” You replied, appreciating all those small considerations he was making, trying to understand you.

“I love you too, Giggles.” He said, joining your lips chastely, placing butterfly kisses over your lower lip, his brow furrowing as you gave small kisses in return. “Giggles.” He murmured on your mouth, his breath hot on your lips.

“Hobi.” You murmured back.

“Want your lips.” He said, his hand climbing up and sliding into your hair, blocking your head and trapping your lower lip between his teeth.

You moaned as he started sucking, his teeth dragging sublimely against the tender skin of your mouth.

“I’m not putting my hand between your legs unless you tell me to.” He said, letting go of your sensitive flesh.

“Please, do.” You murmured, trying to rub yourself against him, offering some pleasure too once your belly pressed against his length.

“I want your consent, little bird.” He clarified, his hand drawing innocent patterns at the middle of your back.

“You have it.” You answered, your hand stretching across his asscheek, trying to draw him closer.

“I have these, if you’re interested.” He said, removing his arm dangling from your shoulder and laying along your back, opening his fist and showing you the ben-wa balls.

“Yes.” You said, opening your mouth wide and rolling your tongue out, waiting for him to place the toy inside for you to lubricate it.

He grinned, proud. “Perfect.” And like that, the spheres were in your mouth, the small ring still hooked to his finger as he pulled the string out, your lips loose against the toy to avoid removing the drool covering them.

Once every ball was out, you turned and bent over.

“Smart girl.” He praised you rubbing your ass with one hand while the other pushed the first ball in. Then the second.

“Master, please.”

“I’m here, little bird. Only three missing, my love.” He reassured you while you felt the cool metal roll against your hot walls. “There. Another one. I’ll make you feel so good, my little dove.” His left hand slid to your front, between your breasts, until it landed on your face, curling around your jaw. “You can take it, baby. Only two left.”

You felt heavy and full, your inner walls clenching, tightening to sustain the weight of the spheres. Another ball slid in, wider than the one before, and smaller than the next.

“There you go, Giggles. You’re gonna be so tight after this. So sensitive.” He thought out loud.

“Only for you, master.” You moaned as you felt his fingers accommodate the last sphere, your inner muscles locking into a tight grip.

“Such a good girl you are. Can you stand up already, dove?” He asked, wrapping his arm one around your chest, and one around your waist.

“Yes, master.” You replied obediently as he helped you raise your torso, your eyes closing as you felt the toy move around and settle inside you as you reached your new position.

He cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly. “Excellent, little bird.” He rewarded you. “Have you already washed yourself?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Sorry I took so long to arrive.” He said. He was usually the one washing you when you showered together. “Guess you’ll have to turn around, then.” He announced, stretching to reach his body-wash, pouring some in his hands and foaming it up, rubbing it against his front while you turned and looked at him from over your shoulder.

“Curious, little bird?” He asked you, smirking and smiling devilishly.

You bit your lip and nodded shyly.

He moved forward so that his cock rested between your asscheeks and thrusted against you tentatively, frowning once after two strokes he already felt too much friction.

“Stay there.” He said, exiting the shower and looking into the cabinet, immediately spotting his target, deciding on taking it with him in the shower.

“Here or the floor?” He asked once you made eye contact.

You considered your options, throwing a towel on the floor and kneeling down on it, crossing your arms under your head to pillow it. “Here.” You said, looking at him standing tall over you.

“Oh, Giggles.” He said, chuckling. “You’re adorable.”

He moved behind you, your gaze focused on the floor as you heard him close the tap to the shower.

“I’m kneeling behind you, little bird.” He described exactly how he was moving, so that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by the situation. “I’m going to cover your cute little bum in massage oil, pretty thing.” He said. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, master.” You replied, staying perfectly still even as you felt the first drop of oil fall on your left ass cheek.

“I know it’s cold, ____. It’ll be warm soon, I promise.” He said, pouring some more on the other side.

The sweet scent of almonds filled the room, intensified by the steam still coming out of the shower.

You felt the sound of the bottle connecting with the floor.

“Here. Let’s make it warm.” He said, placing his hands on your ass and beginning to spread the oil. “Does it feel good, little bird?” He murmured, cackling as you squirmed once his thumbs pressed your labia close together, blood filling the soft, plump tissue, already aroused by the movements of the spheres inside you.

“Yes, master. It feels good, master.” You replied obediently, already pushing your crotch towards his hands. Next he pushed his thumbs from your labia to the skin just behind your hole, the ben-wa balls moving slightly as he pressed from the outside, drawing small circles around the sensitive skin of your entrance, looking as your nectar oozed out from your slick hole once he pulled your labia apart, bending down to lick at your arousal.

You moaned his name slowly, the final ‘k’ getting lost as your breath stumbled a few times in your lungs, drawing in a series of quick, shallow gasps before releasing a low exhale through your puckered lips.

“You’ve been eating fruit, mh?” He asked, noticing the exceptional sweetness of your juices.

“I like fruit.” You replied, trying to sound as coherent as possible.

Still, he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive crotch while the tip of his tongue tapped against your clit a couple times.

“Master.” You called with a shrill whimper.

He removed his face from between your thighs.

“Yes, little bird?” He replied, standing on his knees behind you.

“Please, use me for your pleasure, master.” You begged, trying to push your butt against his hard on.

His hands kept spreading the oil on your behind, exploring every curve, feeling the soft texture of your flesh. “That’s very generous of you, ____. What do you think if we help each other with this? I could lend you a hand and you let me cum all over your sweet peach here.” He suggested.

“Please do. I want you to cum on me.” You said, turning to look at him, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth while his eyelids hung low, looking at your face.

“I won’t make you wait then.” He said, bending over you, his mouth immediately connecting with the small crevasse between your shoulderblades.

His hips slid against your skin easily this time, the feeling his palms squishing your asscheeks together as he thrusted back and forth, moaning and panting so close to your ear. His movements ricocheted inside you just as his palm slid forward, pressing against your belly in a kneading motion that made the spheres shift endlessly inside you.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, just as he changed direction, the tip of his middle finger reaching your hole, massaging the ring of muscles there before sliding down to your clit, drawing a few teasing circles before his palm moved back to the kneading motion aimed straight at the inner muscles of your vagina, the balls shifting against your g-spot with a pressure too gentle to resemble Hoseok’s attentive fingertips when he made you gush your release all over his hand.

“I’m close,” he said, his pace quickening, his target changing as he separated his hips from yours and bent his cock downwards, toward your belly. Using his left hand for leverage, he placed it on the carpet, his right hand covering his tip as he started chasing his pleasure with wicked strokes against your belly, his front parting from your spine as his hand pushed your lower back down, making you arch almost painfully while his pelvis hit your labia at every thurst, his length teased your clit and his tip poked your belly, making the spheres move, his hand pressing his erection to your skin and helping him reach his climax.

And it gloriously arrived, silent at first, and then exploding in a loud groan, as two and then free spurts hit your chest and your stomach messily.

You were close, so close, but your pleasure felt miles away, like your edge was nothing but an immense plain preceded by a steep but brief climb.

“Master, I’m not—”

He blinked a couple times as his high receded, his ears tuning in on the lack of noise, on you not crying his name, moaning and whining and whimpering with pleasure.

“Giggles?” He called, letting go of his softening cock.

“Please, master.” You repeated.

“Aren’t you done yet?” He asked kindly. “Do you still need me, love?”

“Wanna cum, please.” You wailed, trying to grind against any surface connecting with your pelvis. His palm used the oil left on his skin and the cum he had spilled on your navel to massage your belly, his other hand getting to work on your clit, your high becoming more and more real as you murmured on and on ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘there’.

“It’s okay, little bird. Let go.” He said, needing to bend to your ear and kiss you but deciding upon not messing up the angle now that you were close.

Your breath started coming out in messy hiccups. “Hobi, I— Please, it’s— Uh!”

He took in every small sign he could get as you rode his fingers, completely silent in your climax, even your breathing stopping completely while you focused on the mind-blowing feeling of the balls massaging your inner walls as they rolled inside you at every contraction of your muscles.

“There she is.” He called, diminishing his ministration, reducing the pressure of each touch until you opened your eyes and looked for his feverishly. “I’m here, love.” He helped your hips down, turning you around on the big towel and hovering on top of you warmly, fussing over you. “Are you okay, my precious dove?”

He longed to touch your face but his hands were messy and he limited himself to tender kisses to your face.

“Yes, I’m okay. It was just very intense.” You replied, closing your eyes.

“Quick, back in the shower, love. I have plans for us.” He said, raising himself of his knees before standing up. You followed him in slow motion, walking to the shower and closing your eyes as he rinsed his cum and the almond oil from your body.

“Are you sleepy now, my dove?” He asked, rubbing your booty and hugging you in the process.

“No. I want you.” You said, kissing his lips, nibbling at the thick vein of his neck.

“It’s your what… Third orgasm?”

You frowned and nodded. “I think so?”

“Okay. Let’s move to the bedroom.” He said, “You gave a special request, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head and he smiled beautifully, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I love you.” You murmured, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

With a fresh towel he dried you and then quickly dabbed at his own skin, leaving the bathroom messy, but knowing that he would come back once you were asleep.

“Go on.” He said, motioning at the door with his chin, directing you.

He walked behind you as you reached the bedroom and stood before the bed.

“I wanna tie you up. Play with you.” He said, skimming your sides with his fingertips. “If you’re interested.”

“Front or back?” You asked, figuring out how he wanted you to lay down.

“On your back.” He replied.

“Is the fur crop in the game?” You asked, observing the scene.

“Maybe.” He replied.

“That’d better be a yes.” You replied, climbing the bed.

“Rope and manacles?” Your asked, studying the layout.

“Yes. Manacles for wrists. Rope for feet, so you can hide those better. Or I could wrap something around your skin so it doesn’t chafe—”

“No need. A loose triple column should be enough. Hopefully I won’t tug.” You said, laying down and taking rough measurements of your placement. “I don’t think I’ll need a wrap.”

“Are you sure? We can bandage, you know it.” Hoseok sat at the corner of the bed, catching your ankle and making you bend your knee slightly before placing a kiss to your leg.

“I’m good.” You said.

“You will be tied up at the bed, wrist and ankles. I will tease you slightly first. I want you to relax. Once you’re all loose and soft, we’ll see where this will take us, yes?” He kept things vague, so to avoid ruining the anticipation, but also to keep you from feeling pressured into any procedure. “Do you agree with being tied up and undergoing sensation play?” he asked formally.

“I agree, master.” Etiquette is important. Formality gives importance to what you’re about to do. It makes you feel how dangerous it can be the moment you forget safety and responsibility.

“Which are your safewords, ____?”

“Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.” You replied, looking at him.

“Excellent. I’ll start with your left ankle, little bird.” He adjusted your legs, bending your knees about twenty centimetres off the bed, leaving a meter between your feet.

You stayed perfectly still as he caressed your foot and placed two fingers against your skin, beginning to loop the double rope around your leg and his fingers, without dragging it against your skin, but rather letting it caress it softly. Next he neatly hooked both tails under the loops on your ankle, bringing them up and tying them in a knot, tugging at it. The loops tightened slightly, but from the inside he wiggled his fingers, making sure that there was some extra space and that the knot could slide and give more rope, in case it got too tight. He set it a bit loose, not worrying about it slipping it off since the heel of your foot would block it.

He repeated the procedure on the other side, your legs secured to the bed.

You stared at his skilled fingers looping the rope tidily and precisely, knowing how order and cleanliness could help the moment he needed to undo those.

Next, he crawled up, towards your hips, straddling them.

He was already hard again.

You stared at his sleek, long shaft, how well it matched his lithe, sinewy body, how pretty it looked with the slight upward curve. So perfectly pink, matching his glossy lips and the tip the precise colour of his tongue.

He strapped in your left wrist without you even realising. “I see you’re distracted,” he commented, moving to your other wrist. He hooked one finger in the cuff before tightening it, making sure that even your wrist had enough space for wiggling and tugging without you getting hurt.

“Are you safe, little bird?” He checked on you, intertwining your fingers and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You rolled your ankles a few times, next your wrists, then wiggled your fingers. “Yes, master.” You replied obediently.

“Let’s put our scissors here,” He said, standing up and moving his bedside table closer to the feet of the bed, where he could possibly need to quickly cut the rope. After that, he extracted the safety scissors from the drawer in his bedside table and placed them on the table.

“Tonight I received a special request.” He said, completely comfortable in circling the bed naked, your eyes locked with his as he kept walking around, from side to side, like a predator, making anticipation grow, making you squirm and get worked up, waiting for him to pounce.

“My little bird said she was interested with a special toy. For special occasions.” He said, standing at the feet of the bed.

As he stared at your slit, you had the sudden realisation that the ben-wa balls were still located in your womb, the squeezing of your kegels heightening your awareness.

“And isn’t it a special occasion.” He leaned against the mattress, your neck straining as you stared at him, his eyebrows low on his dark, minaciously sensual gaze, his wet hair shading his ebony irises. “I’ll fuck you in our house. For the first time. On our bed.” He clicked his tongue a couple times. “Not like I didn’t fuck you in this bed before.” He chuckled. “I’ve fucked you plenty.” He smirked, and lounged for your calf, playfully biting it before running away, just in time to make you squirm and contract your inner muscles, making a moan bloom on your lips. “It’s just that it was my bed before. My house. And now it’s ours.”

He dug his hand under the pillows, extracting a stick from beneath the white beddings. A riding crop.

The riding crop. Your eyes zeroed in on the furred tip. And on the leather counterpart.

“It’s your friend, little bird.” He said, caressing his palm with the soft side. “Would you like to remind me how it works?” He asked.

“Yes, master.” You looked at him as he sat at the free space at your side, between your extended arm and your side. “The toy has a double tip. One is made of fur. The other is made of leather. The furred part caresses, the leather part slaps. Master.” You added, for good measure.

He touched your face. “Exactly, little bird. So, shall we celebrate?” He asked, suddenly feeling that his nakedness was jeopardising his power, taking a few steps to the chair in the corner of the room and wearing a loose silken robe, tying it around his waist with a lovely bow.

You were fully mesmerised as once more he started circling the bed. His first target was your ribcage, where he dragged the gentle tip against your skin, making you squirm and arch away from the tickling sensation.

“Ticklish, little bird?”

Bastard. He knew you were ticklish as hell. “A little, master.” You replied, your breath hitching as a small, helpless smile appeared on your face, as he toyed with your nipples.

He cocked his head to the side and smirked as he rubbed your nipples, stealing a small squeal from your lips.

“Just a little?” He asked again, moving to the other side.

“A bit more than a little, master.” You conceded, curving your torso out of reach.

He snorted out a laugh, arching an eyebrow and stretching his lips in a thin line as he sucked them between his teeth.

“Shall we test how much?” He asked, drawing a winding pattern on your belly, spiraling around your belly button. Your abs twitched uncomfortably as you squeaked with a hiccup, your quadriceps suddenly flexing with an involuntary reflex. And of course the spheres moved. Again. Hoseok spotted the precise moment your kegels engaged.

“Are those little balls inside you making you feel funny, little bird?” He asked, the tip of the riding crop travelling up, toward your neck, making your body toss as you tried to escape the sweet torture.

“Answer me, little bird.” He scolded you.

“I— God!” You shouted as he quickly took the crop away and slapped the leather bit against your nipple.

“It’s Hoseok or Master. No god can save you, princess.” He looked at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You closed your eyes as you felt the heaviest sphere lay against your cervix. It was impressive that after half an hour you had such awareness of similar details. All the sex and the arousal and his lovingly wicked tortures will kill you someday.

“How is your tight, sweet pussy feeling, little bird? I won’t ask again.” He asked commandingly.

“It’s sensitive.” You replied. “They move and my walls move and they move some more.”

“That’s how I want you, ____. Sensitive. I want you to drench the sheets in sweat and then in cum, my darling girl.” He said, walking toward the feet of the bed and flicking the furred tip behind your knee, your leg flexing, trying to protect the weak spot by sticking it to the sheets.

He cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head in surprise. “Oh, not there?” He said. You didn’t realise you had just uncovered an even weaker spot. The crop moved like lightning, immediately reaching the sole of your foot and skimming the arch of it.

“Hoseok! No! Please! No!” You started tugging at the ropes, pressing the plant of your foot to the mattress but exposing the back of your knee in the process.

Giggles bubbled out of your mouth as your brow creased in discomfort, struggling at Hoseok’s game as he dashed from one spot to the other while you wiggled and tried to protect both, miserably failing. His eyes were trained on your leg, like a cat toying with a led light; he kept chasing your weak spot as it appeared on your toes then disappeared, suddenly surfacing at your thigh, only to disappear again and travel back and forth. And as you kept wiggling, fighting, tossing and turning, he expanded his battlefield on the other leg too, giving you no rest nor reprieve.

“Master, please!” A laugh broke your plea. “I’m sorry, master. Please I— Ah! I’ll— I’ll— No!” Another fit of giggles echoed through your abs, making you even wetter, your arousal sliding uncomfortably along your slit, back between your thighs and asscheeks. “I’ll behave— No! Please, I’m sorry— Stop!”

You tugged at your wrists, more laughs coming to your mouth and completely stealing any oxygen left in your lungs.

You were breathless.

“You know your words, little bird.” He said, seriously at your feet.

“Master!” You called in a weak prayer, barely a whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks, not knowing whether they were from the laughter or the helplessness.

“Your words, ____.” He said, still slowing down as he realised you were refusing to fight anymore.

“Master.” You cried out, lip wobbling.

He placed the riding crop at the feet of the bed, his body curling up in a tight ball as he sat on his heels and ran two fingers under each of the knots at your ankles, making sure that they loosened. But not undoing them yet.

“I’ll let you catch you breath, love.” He said, taking hold of the crop once more. After all, you hadn’t used your safeword. That means he can go on.

He skimmed it down his own chest, a pleasurable shiver coursing down his spine.

Next he turned his head, left and right, the movement resulting in a thick popping sound.

He walked close to your face, his lips forming a downward curve as he spotted your tears.

Gently he dried them with the furred tip, cooing at you.

“Poor little bird. Master made you cry?” He asked, touching your face with the toy.

You only nodded in return. He placed the softer bit against your mouth. “Come on, kiss and make up.” He said, staring at the small gesture.

First domination lesson: if your sub doesn’t kiss or lick anything you put before their mouth, then you haven’t trained them well.

Your lips puckered and disclosed with a small click of your lips.

“Good girl, Giggles. Very good.” He praised you.

He turned the toy around, offering you the other tip.

You looked him in the eye.

“You need to forgive it in advance, little bird.” He said, cocking an eyebrow and licking his lips. He was breathing heavily through his mouth, which had made his lips dry up too fast.

You gave it a kittenish lick before delivering a silent peck on it.

“Good, good girl, ____. Resist a little more for master.” He said, walking again to the feet of the bed. “Hold tight.” He announced before the crop snapped forward, hitting you straight on your swollen labia with unspeakable strength.

Your whole body jerked in the aftermath, trying to curl up in defense.

“Oh, Giggles. Did it hurt?” He asked, actual compassion in his voice.

“The spheres.” You said, your face twitching with the incredible pressure rushing through your whole body.

“I want one last thing.” He said, delivering light pats to your clit. “Just one.”

And just like that the riding crop twisted once more, going back to the furred head and beginning to dart between your thighs.

Again you tugged at the ropes, hoping they would allow you to close your legs. In vain.

The more you tugged, the more you realised you were completely at his mercy, laughters erupting from your lips in an open mouthed expression, your brow and nose scrunched up in helplessness. “No!” You shrieked, your face hiding against your arm as the fleeting touch of the crop brought new tears to your eyes and new giggles to your mouth.

“Master! Mercy! Please! I’m— Hos— Hobi! No! I’m— I’m a good girl...” You pleaded desperately. “I’m a good—” You spoke weakly. “Yellow.” You called, sobbing in earnest now that you felt afraid and frustrated, the spheres inside you something too difficult to handle for your tired and sensitive body.

Hoseok was trained on hearing your safewords. You had spent hours training with ropes and reflexes and responses. He had spent a whole night sitting on a chair, telling you to talk about your day and randomly insert your safewords in the conversation, jumping up each time you spoke one, then sitting again and tuning his ears to your small talk, ready to jump up at the next.

Therefore, when he heard your whispered ‘yellow’, he immediately stood up and threw the crop to the floor, out of the way, sliding his fingers under one of his knots and tugging at it composedly, watching as the loops loosened and slipped past your heel, off your foot. He moved to the next leg, this time acting even faster.

“The spheres. Yellow.” You sobbed again.

“I’m here, ____. I’m here for you, Giggles. You called your yellow, baby, I’m taking them out.” He explained, kneeling between your legs and tugging at the ring, the first coming out quickly, coated in your wetness; same for the next. The last three were almost imperceptible.

“There you go, Giggles.” He laid on top of you, keeping his weight from your body by propping himself up on his elbows. “Baby.”

“I’m so sensitive.” You cried out. “Please. Make it good.” You begged, eyes watering again.

“No, no, no, baby bird. Look at me.” He called, catching your chin between his index and thumb. “I’ll make it good. So good, love.” He murmured, feeding you small kisses. “So, so good, my tiny, precious Giggles. Do you trust master?” He asked, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your cheekbone.

You nodded.

“Then we’ll use this.” He said, sitting up and stretching to the bedside table, opening the small box he had placed there. He dove his finger in, fishing out a small rubber ring with a thick bullet attached. He brought it close to your eyes. You stared, mesmerised before nodding furiously. “But on a low setting. I’m very, very sensitive right now.” You said, worried.

“Of course, baby.” He said, quickly taking off his robe, parting his legs and biting his lower lip as he slipped the tight rubber cockring around his shaft and down to his base.

“Do you need your wrists free, dove?” He asked you, with an affectionate caress to your outer thigh.

“I can keep them.” You said, determined.

He spread your legs further.

“I’m gonna slide in, _____. Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, master.” You said, reassuring him yourself, stretching to watch him penetrate you.

The moment his tip rested inside you, you mewled in relief, the burning sensation barely there as he slid out, staring at the head of his cock coated in your thick, creamy arousal.

“You’re so good in here, love.” He said, sliding in again and bottoming out in one smooth thrust.

Your mouth stayed open as you finally felt the fullness of his sex fill your inner walls, brushing them in a way the spheres couldn’t, with their rolling and their complete lack of stiffness in length.

“Switch it on, please, master!” You begged with your most gentle voice, trying to conceal your command.

He obeyed you nonetheless. He wanted nothing but to see you spent on the sheets, with a beatific smile, clinging to him as sleep caught you in its motherly arms.

He pushed the small button controlling the bullet, even the lowest setting affecting him as the vibrations ricocheted to his balls, the tightness of the rubber postponing his release.

You reached your high in minutes as he slid discreetly, slowly, lazily in and out of you, focusing on a calm, steady pattern that could allow him to touch your face and caress your hair away from your forehead, to rub your lower lip with his thumb and place soft pecks on your temples and cheeks and jaw.

Your high welcomed you with open arms, like a dive from a cliff in the Mediterranean, the soothing blue embracing your body and cradling it, filling you with the energy of that calm, marine giant until you emerged again, drifting on the flat surface of the water, the sun warming your face, creating a complete sense of balance and peace with the fresh, cool sensation at your back.

Once Hoseok saw your eyes flutter open, he smiled, still driving his hips into you with tiny, controlled movements that he rarely offered you, and that fit the missionary position you were in.

He looked at you expectantly. You waited a couple more seconds before you noticed his hips faltering, one of your eyebrows arching. “Please.” He moaned.

You waited another couple seconds, watching his brow furrow, his lips pucker, his jaw clench before his mouth opened. “Please.” He repeated.

“Fuck me up.” You said, with saccharine voice.

A millisecond later, he was kneeling, your legs joined together and thrown over his shoulder, your ass hanging midair as he hammered into you with a speed you didn’t deem human.

“So sweet. Tight. Fuck!” He growled, moaning, his voice getting higher and higher in pitch until you felt him snap, his hips buckling forward.

And as his high bloomed you felt yours grow again, the reckless drive of his hips making your own pelvis undulate to meet his ruthless thrusts.

“Another?” He asked, his cock still painfully hard as he twisted the ring around and made sure that the bullet would meet your clit as he threw both your legs on the bed, your body rolling on your side while he picked up your knee and bent it to your chest. He adjusted the ring and once he felt your chirping whimpers intensify, he left it in place, hammering into you like a man possessed.

“Yes, Hoseok, yes! Keep going—” You spurred him on. “I love you so much, Hobi, I swear, please, if you— Yes!”

You both came undone, your body exploding like fireworks, your wetness pouring out of you endlessly, while he kept pushing, like he was trying to penetrate into the very soul of you.

And then he let your leg go, making your body roll back into the mattress, sliding forward and stretching his legs from underneath his body, his fingers fumbling with the vibrator and switching it off before laying on top of you, this time letting his weight fall on your body.

“Sex so good.” Hoseok murmured. “Never had it in my whole life.” He murmured, mouthing at your chest innocently, looking for reassurance and tenderness and cuddles.

“Hoseok, baby, I need you to undo the cuffs, love.” You said with a sheepish smile.

“Sure.” He said, suddenly awakening and stretching to reach the left cuff, then the right, unlatching them in record time.

Another part of his training.

Kneeling between your legs once more, he stared at you and rose to his knees, towering over you. With gritted teeth he started slipping off the cockring, more of his semen pouring out in small drops now that the tight rubber band was milking him of what he had left. You stared at the scene, at the focused, strained lines of his face, at the way his hair, now almost dry in soft little waves, eclipsed his gaze entirely.

He stared at your mound marked in his seed, before meeting your eyes captivated by the vision.

“I claimed my girl. In our house.”

“Way to christen the new flatmate.” You giggled as he laid down and nuzzled against you, not even worried about his cum staining him too.

“It’s our home.”

You nodded and caressed his hair. “Welcome home, love.” You said, happy that you could finally speak the words you’ve been dying to say since you had moved in.

“Welcome home.” He repeated, kissing your heart and closing his eyes, waiting for you to fall asleep before he stood up and fixed the mess the two of you had made.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #hoseok x reader #jhopex reader #hoseok x y/n #jhope x reader #bts smut #bts blog #bangtan smut

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shadowsong26fic · 3 years ago

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Coming Attractions!

Just a few quick updates, really (it’s been a slow year for me so far, writing-wise, alas).

The usual plug for my writing discord--it’s pretty quiet, but come say hi! Sometimes I brainstorm there, but mostly it’s just intended to be a more interactive version of this tumblr.

And let’s go ahead and do an Open Question Night! My askbox is always open, but tonight I’m around and keeping at least half an eye on it. Questions about writing, or any of the fandoms/etc. I post about on this blog (or on my AO3) are fair game. I also take prompts, but am bad at filling them in a timely manner, lol.

Okay, I think that covers it! Actual updates are behind the cut!

Star Wars:

SWBB gets posted at the end of this month and...while it’s not that I haven’t enjoyed it this year, it’s definitely been like pulling teeth to get the story to actually come out, haha. It’s not my best work, but I love the event and I’m glad I did it. I may not participate as a writer next year, we’ll see how I feel.

Precipice is...I swear I am working on it in the background XD I just haven’t gotten much actually down on paper because...well, the aforementioned stuckness/pulling-teeth on the other SW project which is taking all of my SW brain (except for the part that’s getting distracted by self-indulgent crossover nonsense, lol). Hopefully I’ll get more done once SWBB is through.

I don’t have any Other SW Projects actively under construction right now, but I’m sort of poking at what I might do for next year’s BB, if I do decide to participate...I feel like it won’t be as much of a struggle if I have a more solid plan when I get started? So, anyway, some of the SW/BSG crossovers I mentioned in a post here a couple weeks ago are definitely things I’m considering!

Castlevania:

I think I’m just going to give up on expanding that first scenelet in Incinctus, lol. Just give it a better conclusion, and then I can get started posting, probably later this month. I do like a lot of what I have going there. (Even if it...like, this was supposed to be self-indulgent Alucard whumpfic with a side of dumb jokes and the OT3 finding their way together at the end; it ended up being like 40% about Lisa’s Feelings which I’m not complaining about but I was not??? Expecting????)

After I finish that, depending on how that goes over and if I sustain my interest in this fandom well enough, I do have another prompt/story I might write out...we’ll see!

AtLA:

I do still really want to write fic in this fandom, but I’ve got so many other things floating around in my head, haha. The main one is still the Avatar Zuko prompt, which is still largely lacking in text (I’ve been in a slow period for...a while, I guess...but that aside). No idea on when this will come out.

BSG:

I am definitely pushing forward on The Other Battlestar AU, which is going to be a million words long (even if I do cut off at the end of the Pegasus arc which I probably will, at least for now) and also needs like. An Actual Title. (My brain fed me Bellerophon which I don’t like but I’ve got nothing else XD)

I’m also filling out some of the Supplemental Cast (mostly various Pegasus officers/crew because. like. we know a solid Five People and...we need more than that XD). I was doing some digging into How Aircraft Carriers Work because the senior medical officer/Cottle’s counterpart is going to be a pretty significant player and yeesh there should be a lot more subordinates there...but I will probably handwave that because while I do need More People there, I also need to keep things. Like. Manageable. So, there’s Daphne (the aforementioned Senior Medical Officer), and then a Marine captain who grew up with Baltar on Aerilon (who is an old OC of mine from my last time actively in this fandom but needs to be renamed because his original name was Rex and that just. Will Not Work For Me Anymore), and then probably a few other people.

Also working on sketching out the second of the OCs who will fill in some gaps on the Galactica side of things; I know more or less where I’m going with them, but they’re basically just two bullet points and ‘I don’t necessarily need to actually Show Them but I know how I’m going to introduce them during the miniseries sequence.’

I’ll have more once I do a dedicated rewatch of the first two seasons + Razor (which I’m not allowed to do until I’ve finished SWBB, lol) but I’m having fun already XD

#coming attractions #miscellania #shadowsong writes star wars #shadowsong writes castlevania #shadowsong writes atla #shadowsong writes bsg #open question night

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fandomlurker · 4 years ago

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A Ponderous Rewatch: Pavlov’s Mice and Cameo

So thanks to Tumblr nerfing my ability to make an admittedly absurdly long post combining the previous episode rewatch with this one, I had to do this entry in two parts.

But at least now we’re in for the real treat: The first episode in airing order that’s animated by TMS Entertainment. And hey, even the Animaniacs show itself seems to acknowledge that this is special, because theme song rhyme is…

We're Animanie! Totally insane-y!~

Pinky and the Brainy!~

…which hasn’t been done since their debut. So this is gonna be fun.

Might as well get this out of the way, then, since this episode obviously involves Ivan Pavlov. I think most people who know of Pavlov through cultural osmosis pretty much know him as just “that one scientist who got dogs to respond to the sound of bells as if they were being offered food”. This is what happened, but it’s only part of the story. In reality, Ivan Pavlov was doing research on the physiology of digestion in dogs and he noticed one day that the dogs he was studying started to drool in the mere presence of the lab technician who regularly fed them even if the technician didn’t have food with them. Pavlov developed a way to redirect the dogs’ digestive juices outside of the body so that they could be measured, and then he ran some conditioning experiments to see if he could get them to salivate in response to external stimuli that had nothing to do with food, like ringing a bell.

The year in the title card, 1904, was the year Ivan Pavlov was awarded the Nobel Prize for the previously mentioned experiments, which he published the results of in “The Work of the Digestive Glands” in 1897. Basically, by 1904 he was done with his work with dogs and he moved on to experimenting with mice…at least according to this article in National Geographic by Virgina Hughes.

With that, let’s begin the episode proper.

“At the dawn of the 20th century, Russian scientist, Ivan Pavlov, trained animals through his technique of conditioned reflex” says the narrator as we zoom in on a laboratory with Pavlov and our lovable mouse duo.

“Time to earn your dinner, my little mousey friends!”

It’s interesting how Pinky is the one that flinches uncomfortably at the loud sound of the gong while Brain simply snaps into his conditioned response. And that response? Uhhh…

“I’m a little teapot, short and stout.~”

“This is my handle, this is my spout.~”

(Is he…you know…?)

“When I get all steamed up, hear me shout!~”

“Tip me over and pour me out.~”

Oh no… This is a cute and funny scene and all, but when you know about Brain’s canonical issues with how he hates not being in control of a situation and all the traumas he’s endured (for those of you not in the know, yes, Brain does have a lot of trauma in his backstory that we learn about much later, both in the 90s spin-off and the reboot) regarding both general control and losing family and friends…there’s a bitter tinge to this scene.

He’s so embarrassed and humiliated.

He takes the cheese but he is positively fuming with rage, and I can’t exactly blame him from what I know about him.

This is made all the worse by Pinky’s innocent reaction to Brain’s little song and dance.

“Hahahahaha! Wonderful! Hahaha! EGAD, Brain, I could watch you do that dance all day! Haha, narf!”

For Pinky, this is harmless silliness and he gets to see Brain sing and dance and “have fun”, which is not a usual occurrence. But for Brain? Well...

“You have watched it all day, Pinky. Sixty-one times, to be exact. It’s a conditioned reflex to that infernal gong.”

“I’m powerless to stop it!”

Well, Brain, at the very least it’s not like you were a part of a more inhumane experiment like one regarding, say, learned helplessness or anything. …Oh wait. Whoops. (For those sensitive to animal abuse, I suggest refraining from clicking on the second link, and caution against clicking on the first if even more clinical text descriptions of such would upset you. The third link is spoilers for the reboot.)

All that aside, it seems like it’s Pinky’s turn. He gets the more traditional bell chime for his stimulus.

And the result is him going into an uncontrollable and very enthusiastic Slavic folk dance.

With violent results. I hope you appreciate that last screencap, as the animation goes by so quickly I had a lot of trouble isolating the part where Pinky kicks Brain and he goes flying.

Pinky is all too happy to get a reward of cheese, his favourite food, for doing something that he has no memory of.

“What’cha doin’ over there, Brain?”

“Contemplating your afterlife, Pinky.”

That’s not exactly fair, Brain, you know he has no control over this. To Brain’s credit, though, he doesn’t bop him or anything for kicking him involuntarily.

Pavlov leaves, playfully saying that he hopes the mice dream of cheese tonight, and the mice are immediately down to business.

“At last, he’s gone.”

“Now we can begin our conquest of the world!”

We’re already back to it being “our” conquest of the world, eh?

“Behold my latest creation, Pinky: The Vacuum-o-nator.”

Brain has never been good with naming things, has he? At least, not so far. I wonder if this will continue throughout the franchise?

Pinky is certainly very happy and impressed, though.

“It uses reverse air pressure to vacuum everything toward it.”

You know, I was just about to roast Brain for thinking that making a very odd version of a vacuum cleaner was such a brilliant thing, but then I remembered that this takes place in 1904. The vacuum cleaner as we know it was “invented independently by British engineer Hubert Cecil Booth and American inventor David T. Kenney” in 1901 according to Wikipedia, and portable vacuums were available to the general public starting in 1905.My apologies, Brain, that actually is very impressive.

Although, this all hinges on if the viewer considers episodes that take place in the past and/or at different locations than Acme Labs California to be mere Alternate Universe/What If? stories or Brain and Pinky using some kind of time machine to go to a different place and time for these episodes. (Before you tell me that this is just a cartoon and sicc the Please, Please Get a Life Foundation on me, I do this to have fun and maybe educate myself and the reader along the way. I promise I have a life. Barely.)

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?”

“Uhh… Yeah, Brain! But where are we gonna find rubber pants our size?”

Pinky, that’s… Listen, folks, don’t make the same mistake I did and google “rubber pants”. It’s not what you think it is. You will be disappointed.

BONK!

Seems like you’re enjoying yourself there, Pinky.

“No, Pinky. We’re going to use the Vacuum-o-nator to steal Russia’s crown jewels!”

Man, the animation for even this one small proclamation by Brain is so, so good. Brain standing authoritatively and holding the pen like a scepter or spear, the grand sweep of his arm as he says “no”, the serious and slightly menacing expression on his face, a violent and grabby swing of his arm on the word “steal”, and a dramatic point and look up towards the sky when he finishes. TMS does great work, folks.

“Narf! Genius, Brain!”

Look at Brain’s satisfied smile at Pinky’s simple compliment. Remember what I said earlier about Brain going through his explanations to show off to and impress Pinky? At this point I’m absolutely convinced that that’s why Brain turns up the theatrics more than necessary when going through his plans. After all, Pinky is (oddly and rather sadly) the only one in-universe who thinks Brain is a genius and a good person.

…Of course, the effect can sometimes be lessened by subsequent innocent bumbling.

“Turn it off, Pinky.”

He says this so exasperatedly yet so deadpan at the same time, it’s great.

“Oh! Right-o!”

Even Pinky immediately knows that he fucked up.

“Zort! Whew! Wild hairdo, Brain! Heh heh, I like it.”

He even pets Brain’s “hairdo”, aww. And though I personally could take or leave the ‘do, I like the pointed, sharp look this mishap’s given to his ears.

BONK!

“Now I feel cleansed.”

Okay, this one might have been a little too much, Brain.

“But Brain, aren’t the crown jewels always guarded by giant Cossacks?”

Well, Pinky, from what I know Cossacks were usually used extensively in the police force and as border guards during this time, so I guess that’s possible?

Brain picking the lock with the pen is a fun little detail.

“Don’t worry about the guards… For tonight, Pinky, at precisely 1 am, there’s a total lunar eclipse. “

Again, this is probably not a thing the average person could look up quickly and easily in the 90s and the writers most likely didn’t care about accuracy here, but there were no total lunar eclipses in 1904. There were some penumbral lunar eclipses in March and September of that year, though. Just a fun fact for you folks.

“The Earth’s shadow will completely cover the moon, blacking out all of St. Petersburg for a period of 30 seconds.”

Brain…?!? Brain, how did you get the diagram on that piece of paper to animate like that? What kind of Harry Potter-style magic bullshit is this?

I know this is a cartoon and all and I’m not truly upset but this honestly came out of nowhere and made me do a double-take.

“In that brief time, we will sneak past the Czar’s guards under the cover of darkness and steal the crown jewels…for he who controls the jewels controls Mother Russia!”

More dramatics!

“But…I thought your mother’s name was Désirée?”

I love Brain’s pose here. Very grumpy and sassy.

As for Pinky’s comment: We do get to meet Brain’s parents way later in the spin-off, though neither are addressed by any name. I’m taking this joke as canon anyway because it’s funny.

Well, well, well… Looks like we’re shaking things up a bit with an inking instead of a bonk. That’s gonna be a pain to get out of his white fur, though.

“Soon, Pinky, I will rule Russia…so from now on, call me Czar.”

Another sassy hand-on-hip pose.

“Right-o, Brain!”

“—eek! Czar Brain!”

“Come along, Pinky… Conquest awaits!”

Nice to know that despite the inking, Pinky’s still following him anyway. Plus he’s doing it with that fond look on his face again. Hmm…

What follows is a cute and ingenious sequence of Brain launching Pinky and himself through an open window via the spring force of a mousetrap. It goes by very quickly, but I just wanted to highlight a few things I managed to notice while pausing through it. Kudos to the animators again for these little details.

Pinky’s the one that wraps one arm around Brain’s shoulders so that Brain has both hands free to spring the mousetrap properly and so that they’ll be launched together.

Interestingly enough, Pinky’s the cautious one who braces for impact right away while Brain gleefully flies through the air with his arms outstretched.

The “camera” changes perspective and while Brain is still boldly flying forward with confidence, Pinky is still worried but has now opened his eyes as they fly towards the window.

Pinky’s still holding onto Brain and the Vacuum-o-nator as tight as he can. As they get closer to the window, however…

…Pinky seems to realize he’s going to smash into the wall above the window if he doesn’t let go, so he lets go of Brain. Brain doesn’t realize where his trajectory is taking him.

Pinky angles himself downward and through the open window, but it’s too late for Brain.

WHAM! RIP, Brain.

But his pain is not done! It looks like Pinky’s landing was in the soft snow. Meanwhile, Brain slides down onto the window and through the opening, only to bash into the lid of a garbage can, much to Pinky’s concern.

Then Brain falls headfirst into the snow.

And finally, Brain is clonked on the head by the same garbage can lid, which makes a loud gong noise. Someone get this poor mouse some Aspirin.

But since there was a gong noise, you all know what that means!

Cutely, Pinky joins in on the dance in the middle of it.

“Ha! Oh that was fun, Czar Brain! But let’s give it another go, right? Only this time with feeling!”

Man, that side-eye at the beginning from Brain…

Pinky’s body language is great in this episode, too. The gleeful flapping of his arms and feet and the “with feeling” gesture are fantastic examples of his more open and energetic nature coming through.

Oh hey, there’s that one shot of Brain being ticked off used in the spin-off theme song! I can’t exactly blame him for his anger here. He just went through a lot of pain in a short amount of time and was then involuntarily made to humiliate himself. Pinky doesn’t mean to be mean here—he genuinely wants to have some sing and dance fun with Brain—but it’s gotta sting to have the humiliation highlighted.

Pinky still doesn’t deserve a bonking for it, though. But it’s slapstick, so he’s fine.

Heh, “deliveries to rear” indeed.

Oh, are those jingle bells on a sleigh that I see?

Uh oh…

“No, Pinky… Not now!”

It cannot be stopped, Brain. He must dance!

Another quick detail as Brain launches himself at Pinky’s midsection to either topple him over or hold him still to get Pinky to stop.

Alas, Pinky’s dancing is too strong.

OUCH!

The face of regret.

His punishment is swiftly thwarted, though.

“…That was unpleasant.”

They take a different and more uneventful ride on a hay wagon to the palace.

I love the exaggerated perspective going on here.

Peekin’.

“We made it inside, Brain!”

“…’Czar Brain’.”

“Czar Brain.”

He says it so quietly and sweetly, aww.

“Yes, Pinky. There are fleeting moments when I even amaze myself.”

I…don’t know if it’s much of an accomplishment yet, Brain. Settle that ego down a bit.

Oh, that’s some classic Looney Tunes-style sneaking animation there.

Wait, why is the door to the treasure room just open behind them? Czar Nicolas II, what gives?

Speaking of…

Hello, Czar Nicolas II. I hope you’re enjoying your “eclipse party”. You only have another 14 years or so to live it up, after all.

“In just a few minutes, it’ll be totally dark and scary. OooOOoo!~ But don’t anyone touch me, I have cooties!”

I, uhhh. Okay, then.

Same, boys. Same. Best to get down to business.

“Behold the crown jewels of Mother Russia, Pinky. World conquest will soon be ours!”

Again, world conquest is “ours” and not just Brain’s. Also you can just tell Pinky’s thinking “I’m going to wear so much of this jewelry!”

“Now, Brain?”

“Not yet. Wait for the total eclipse.”

Speaking of…

“Complete darkness, Pinky. Start the Vacuum-o-nator…”

“NOW!”

That gonging noise is an interesting choice for a chime. Surely this ornate clock is only an omen of good things for our duo.

Pinky, you’re swooning again. And Brain…

Oh no.

Another clock! Who’d have thought Russian nobility loved clocks so much? This one has a more pleasant bell chime, though.

…Oh NO!

Well, looks like things are going to hell pretty quickly.

Goodbye, boys.

Goodbye, Czar Nicolas II! You might wanna look out for a man named Grigori Rasputin in the future, okay?

Nice hat, Brain.

“Whu--? The eclipse is over? Narf! What happened, Brain?”

BONK!

“Zort! I mean, Czar Brain.”

“We failed again, Pinky… But just wait until tomorrow night!”

“Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night, Brain?”

“What else, Pinky?: Try to take over the world!”

It was a nice try, boys, but honestly I don’t know how you were going to fit all those crown jewels into that tiny improvised vacuum bag, anyway.

One last cute little detail in this episode is our mousey duo jumping up with enthusiastic determination in front of the silhouette of the moon on the last note of the theme reprise. One day, you guys. One day…

Oh! And before I forget, have another short cameo from “Plane Pals”. It’s a tiny one.

Pinky and the Brain steal a sheep off of an airplane. For what purpose? Who knows? But that’s it. I’m kind of wondering if the writers wanted to make a running joke of them making cameos to steal random things for world conquering purposes and just sort of gave up.

Anyway, so ends our recap for this post. It sure was a long one, but what can I say? There were some very cute details that needed to be shared. Have we learned anything new this time? Well, I mean, besides historical trivia.

Brain thinks both he and Pinky are great actors, despite his own near inability to lie and keep up an innocent pretense. Oh, he can be sarcastic, sure, but he can’t seem to manage to stop himself from revealing that he’s out for world domination whenever he has an audience.

For the first time we see Brain’s annoyance and humiliation resulting from him being a lab mouse. Though it’s on the more subtle side at the moment, Brain seemed extra grumpy and violent during that last episode because of the conditioning he’s unwillingly gone through. I’m curious to see if there are any more examples of this before we reach an episode touching on his origin story. Or…one of his origin stories, at least. There’s around four of them last I checked and all but one of them can reasonably fit into the others.

Pinky is truly beginning to show how much he adores Brain, which is nice. Beforehand we knew he was down with his world domination plans for whatever reason and also that he thinks Brain’s plans are great and ingenious. Now, though, we’ve gotten to the point of him literally swooning at Brain and his plans. Something’s definitely brewing there.

Next time: We get some more substantial cameos, join our mouse duo on a Fort Knox heist, and meet a new character that is both pretty important to the “lore” of the show going forward…but also doesn’t appear in person after their introductory episode until the very end of the Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain spin-off run.

See you then!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Pavlov's Mice #Plane Pals

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