#lets be real here she's just plain gorgeous in that scene

[drswannbond]

BABY WAKE UP AN OFFICIAL FILM STILL OF THE TRENCHCOAT SCENE DROPPED (in all its authentic low res)

[applebutter-and-cinnamon]

On the Open Water

Pairing: Joe Rantz x OC (Sadie)

Warnings: N/A

Description: Joe takes Sadie out for a boat ride. Yes, this is heavily influenced by the scene from the movie. All credit goes to the original writers of the script for the idea.

Boys in the Boat Masterlist

This is not meant to be a reflection of the real person that was portrayed in the Boys in the Boat. It is a work of fiction.

The first time she'd laid eyes on the tall figure that was Joe Rantz, her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks flushed red. Thankfully, he'd been distracted by his crew who were crowded around him as they walked out to the water. She'd heard about the junior boat, they were one of the hottest topics on campus at the moment - that the 8 of them had managed to beat out so many others was remarkably impressive.

Joe was tall, broad-shoulder and muscular in a way that she'd never seen. His blonde hair looked golden in the afternoon sunshine and he had a laugh that echoed easily in the air. It was plain as day that he was very, very handsome. She allowed herself a few blissful moments to watch as he walked away, but forced herself to turn back to her homework that was due the very next day.

The second time Sadie saw Joe Rantz was at a school-sanctioned party after he and his crew won their first race. She'd been doing her best to keep her gaze from where he was sitting, but considering the party was in their honor, it was hard not to let her attention wander back to him. Joe was seated between Roger Davis and George "Shorty" Hunt at a circular table just off to the side of the area that had been marked off for the dance floor.

Roger and Shorty were leaning close to Joe, shoving his shoulders a bit and whisper-yelling at him as he shook his head, a red flush tinting his cheeks.

Sadie was sitting comfortably at her own table surrounded by some of her roommates who had become some her best friends. Lily and Angela were laughing as they slowly drank the colorful cocktails in their chilled glasses - the only refuge from the increasingly hot room.

"What do you think, Sadie?" Lily asked her, drawing her attention away from the men of the hour. Lily had always been the more outgoing of their bunch, blonde and as beautiful as she was she drew men to her as easily as she breathed the air around them.

Angela was equally gorgeous with long hair that trailed down her back and dark as a raven's wing. Her lips were always painted bright red in contrast to her bright white teeth. She was incredibly smart, witty, and was always making them laugh with some sort of remark made just under her breath.

Sadie smiled, tucking a loose piece of curled hair behind her ear. "What do I think about what?"

Angela and Lily shared a glance, smirking at one another, "About how Joe Rantz has been glancing over at you every few minutes since he saw you sitting there."

"He has not," She protested. Her eyes widened as she took in their honest expressions and twisted, smug lips. "Really," she continued, "I doubt he knows I'm here. What is more likely is that he's looking at one of you."

Lily shook her head, "Looks like we're about to find out."

"What do you mean?" Sadie asked, turning her head to follow the direction of Lily's quirked brow. Joe Rantz had begun to stand from his seat and George was patting him heartily on his shoulder, while Roger looked straight in the direction of their table. He was leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands together and grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

Joe's eyes caught hers, eyeing the red that crept into her cheeks for a split second before she looked away from him. Casting worried looks at her friends, "He's not coming this way, is he?"

Sadie was not as confident as Lily or as quick-witted as Angela, but she was enthusiastically kind and had a heart twice as large as anyone else. She prided herself on seeing the best in others even though most times she couldn't quite see the best in herself.

Lily and Angela didn't answer, instead they made to stand giving her a supportive thumbs-up before hurrying away from the table. Angela winking at her and her giving her a large smile.

The sound of footsteps nearing the table drew her attention away from her giggling friends. Sadie felt distinctly aware of every hair out of place on her head and the dampness at the small of her back from the heat of the room.

"Hello," Joe's baritone sounded next to her and Sadie looked up into startlingly, clear blue eyes in answer. His blonde hair was combed neatly atop his head and his mouth was softened into a small, hesitant smile. "My name's Joe - Joe Rantz."

She offered him her hand in greeting and he extended his much larger hand to accept it. "It's nice to meet you," she smiled, proud of how she held her voice steady in front of the man she'd been admiring from afar.

Sadie offered him her own name, which he repeated softly, almost to himself. He seemed to be testing the way it tasted on his lips and she couldn't deny the butterflies that took flight in her stomach at hearing him swirl her name around inside of his mouth.

She gestured towards one of the empty seats in an offer for him to sit down. Joe hesitated, eyes downcast before flicking back up to hers, "I was actually wondering if, maybe, you might want to dance with me?"

Sadie's smiled encouragingly, "I'd love to."

Accepting his outstretched hand, she let him lead her to the dance floor. Where he pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the steadiness of his body against her own nervous one. Her heart was beating so hard that she could feel it in her fingertips and she glanced up at his face to determine if he could hear it.

Instead, she caught a look that was a little bashful and incredulous as he pulled her slightly closer than one might a friend. She stepped forward to make it easier for him, delighting in the red that grew at the tips of his ears.

The third time she saw Joe Rantz was beneath her window.

"What are you doing?" She asked, laughing as she pushed the window open.

He was beautiful in the moonlight, eyes wide in excitement and a broad grin taking over his face. "Do you want to go on a boat ride?" He looked up at her expectantly, no trace of any expectation that she would say no.

"Right now?" Sadie asked, voice full of laughter.

He shrugged, "Sure, why not."

She laughed, "I'll be right down." She hurried into her shoes, flinging her door open and ignoring the questions from Lily and Angela. She half-ran and half-stumbled her way down two flights of stairs to the door where Joe waited for her.

"Hi," she greeted, breathless as she pushed the door open.

Joe's grin was brighter than she'd ever seen. He reached for her and she stepped easily into his reach, one of his hands trailing down her arm to her hand which he took in his own. "Follow me," he said, leading her forward.

He must've already been to the University's shell house, because he led her to the dock where he had a small row boat tied securely. He offered her his arm and she climbed into the boat with unsteady legs.

Joe climbed in after her, the very picture of grace and set them off. The water was calm around them and as Joe rowed them away from shore, the symphony of the open water at night performed for them. Swirling water and soft breezes smelling of fresh spring flowers, carrying with it the smell of Joe's cologne.

She turned her head towards him and found his blue eyes already staring at her.

"You're going to row us into something if you don't pay attention to where we're going," she teased, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully.

Joe smirked, his expression the picture of confidence. "Of the two of us, remind me who has more experience out on the water," his voice drew her attention down to his lips, which morphed into something of a smug grin as he caught her slip.

Sadie glanced up quickly. "Obviously, it's me," she continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder pretending to have all of the confidence in the world.

Joe laughed softly next to her and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.

He stopped rowing, letting the current take hold once they were in the middle of the water and the boat began to drift slowly as it did.

"Do you like rowing?" Sadie asked, studying his expression. It was mostly hidden from her but as he tilted his head in contemplation the light from the moon illuminated him in a silver glow.

"I'm getting a job out of it," he shrugged. His voice took on a nonchalant tone but his eyes gave away his enjoyment for the sport.

Sadie nudged him with her shoulder, "You seem to be pretty good at it."

"Do I?" Joe smiled, blue eyes twinkling.

Sadie nodded, "You boys are going to become famous with the skill you have in your boat. Just wait, you'll see that I'm right and you'll forget all about me."

She turned her face away from him, not wanting to show him the expression that was likely painting her face.

Joe's calloused hand slid a long her cheek, gently guiding her gaze back to him. "I don't think I could forget you if I tried," he whispered, his voice so low she was sure she could only hear him because he was so close.

Her gaze dropped down to his soft lips again before flicking back up to his eyes. Joe didn't wait a moment and leaned forward, gently pressing their mouths together.

His lips were warm and so very soft against her own. He tasted of salt and something distinctly Joe that she ached for more of. She reached her own hand up, gliding her hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly into her mouth and twisted his head, deepening their kiss. Using the hand that wasn't caressing her face, he gripped onto her waist, just holding her softly against him.

She cursed herself for pulling away first but her lungs were begging her for oxygen. They stayed close, resting their foreheads against one another. Joe's breath kissed the apples of her cheek as he exhaled.

"We should probably get back to the dorms before someone notices I'm gone," she whispered.

"I'll row us back," Joe hummed in agreement, though his hands remained where they were. "But, one more kiss couldn't hurt."

His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded as he looked at her, waiting for her permission.

Sadie slid her hand back into his soft, blonde hair and if they shared a few more kisses than their only witnesses were the full moon above them and the open water that surrounded them.

A/N: Would anyone be interested in reading any more about Sadie and Joe?

[kattythingz]

I'll release your men and I'll get you to the Underworld instead / Wait, you're helping us?

BACK ON MY CIRCE AU BULLSHIT, WHAT'S UP. This time with a proper scene (and close-ups) under the cut!!! Many thanks to my dearest @sirchenchen for drawing Ling as amazingly as always, everyone check out her other art, it's just as amazing!! This scene was yet again inspired by a gorgeous animatic, so check that out too for context and to have your eyes blessed~

Ling stopping Ed gently during There Are Other Ways, telling him, “I do think you’re beautiful. But I have more respect for you than that. And I think you have more respect for yourself than that too.”

Ed’s stunned. “What are you—?”

“I’m telling you no, Edward.”

So succinctly. And yet…

Respect. That’s the word Ling used. Respect for Ed? After he blushed at him and looked at him like that, just like every man before him has?

It should be laughable how bizarre the concept is to Ed. But all he can do is sit back unconsciously from Ling, allowing him to rise too.

“I understand now why you responded to our arrival with hostility,” Ling says softly. “And I must clarify, if any of my men did anything to imply otherwise—we are here for no such thing. I am not here for such a thing. We sought your island for rest from the storm, and, truly, the party’s only intent had been to scout for our safety. We mean you and your own no harm.”

“What are you here for, then?” Ed asks lowly. A near hiss, defensive as he shifts the knife to plain sight over Ling’s chest. “Give me one good reason to believe you, mortal, because believe me—your lot have tried those words before too.” 

Ling swallows at the edge of the knife so close to his unarmored chest. He looks between the active threat and the even more dangerous one, perhaps, glaring down at him.

“We only wanted one thing since the beginning,” he says after a pause. “We want to get home.”

“Home. And where’s that? A long way from here, I’m sure.”

Ed says it sarcastically—mocking the flimsy excuse to him, certainly.

He’s surprised, then, when Ling’s expression twists with a real agony, as he rasps, “Yes.”

Ed furrows his brow, and Ling continues thickly, “We’ve been seeking home for ten years now. We only just escaped another danger keeping us from there, and it was—” A hard, swallowing pause. “It was much larger than we could’ve handled. The ship we docked at your shore is all that’s left of us.”

“What was it?”

Ed gazes down at him impassively. Compelling honesty from Ling, and nothing else.

Ling can’t even lie if he wants to. “Dante,” he whispers.

He’s surprised when Ed jolts at the name, reeling back.

“What?” Ed spits. “That fucking bitch? How’d you go and piss her off? Do you realize how hard it is, with how little a shit she gives about you damn mortals?"

The words sail sharply into Ling’s exposed pain, and he flinches.

Yes, he’s well aware.

“I didn’t know,” Ling rasps. “I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing. But it wasn’t, and—it cost my men instead of me.” His throat bobs with a startling emotion to Ed. “That’s why I beg you, Edward. Release what little I have left of my men. We won’t overstay our welcome. I swear it.”

It’s a long, awful pause before Ed’s sharp gaze leaves Ling’s face.

Ling’s heart stops with the abrupt sigh Ed lets out.

“Well, shit.”

Ling scrambles to sit fully upright when Ed gets off him. He fears Ed will spell him while he’s defenseless, but Ed only swirls a finger to tie up his hair into a regal high ponytail, golden waves and decorated braids swaying as he says, “I won’t kill you, Ling Yao. But I’ll have to ask for the rest of your story.”

Hope flutters golden in Ling’s chest, and he fixes himself to do exactly that.

Ling begins his story from their first steps away from Amestris, and, as he speaks, Ed moves about his spellworks room. When he reaches the devastation Dante set upon his men, Ed looks up in reflexive horror at the loss. He hides it swiftly, but the spark of sympathy keeps Ling’s voice steady as he finishes up to the present.

“Well, that definitely checks out for the old bitch,” Ed says when Ling’s done. “Good riddance with her abomination of a son, though. I’m surprised you got the drop on him at all.”

Ling looks up, surprised at Ed’s—friendliness? What’s this supposed to be?

“You couldn’t have killed Gluttony if you’d tried,” Ed then tells him, shuttering Ling’s lungs from breath. “He’s not just a god by your standards, but a fake one. Created by the bitch herself. Though, I honestly can’t tell you why.”

Ling doesn’t know what to say to any of that, so he gulps.

“You won’t last another day in the ocean if she’s so hot on your tails,” Ed continues, rattling a half-full potion bottle in his hand. Whatever the motion tells him must be good, as he nods to himself before dipping it into the cauldron to fill the rest of the way. Ling watches the process with some interest, straightening up when golden eyes fall on him again afterward. “Not without some help, at least."

Ling understands immediately.

“You’re helping us?” he stutters.

“Don’t take it so personally yet,” Ed says with a tug of his lips. “Consider this a trial run. You’re an oddity, Ling Yao. And I don’t like ignorance. I need to figure you out somehow. And this”—he clinks the bottle in his hand on Ling’s dangling earring—”is my first experiment.”

His lips catch a full, coy smile when he notes Ling’s idle rubbing of the disturbed earring—otherwise unaffected by Ed’s closeness and state of dress.

“Whether you’re worth a second experiment... That’s completely up to you.”

“Just for curiosity’s sake...” Ling starts, eyeing the silvery potion and the ominous glow of the cauldron. “What, exactly, does this experiment entail?”

Ed grins at the blatant anxiety. Still smart, this mortal. Good.

“You’ve heard of the Underworld, haven’t you?” Ed hums, flicking a hand to shift the “smoke” into a silvery vision. He doesn’t risk turning around when Ling’s eyes widen at the image of Al. “I’ve got... a friend, there. A prophet. He can read your future so you can do your thing and dodge it. Or so you can accidentally fulfill it.” He spins around as he snaps his fingers, and the illusions snuffs out just in time. He lets out a soundless sigh. “Whichever you’re capable of.”

“And—what do you get out of this, if I agree?” Ling can’t help asking despite his hope.

Ed smirks back at him over a shoulder. He doesn’t answer as he makes a “come hither” motion for Ling to follow him outside, and Ling does so blindly, distracted by Ed’s robe also floating over to wrap back around him at the same time.

“Nothing, technically,” Ed says as they walk, ignoring Ling’s falling behind as he begins looking around the palace properly. The overgrown vines and wildflowers from the cracks are unlike any plants Ling’s ever seen before, sans the few hanging in the cauldron room just now. They don’t resemble the moly Greed gave him, though...

Ling starts, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust… that...”

He putters off when his gaze lands naturally on Ed. Without the shadows of Ed’s hair obscuring his face, the sunlight brushing that skin put a spontaneous pin in Ling’s foolish heart.

He noticed it much earlier, naturally, but...

Edward is beautiful.

And he’s smiling now.

Not directly at Ling, but at an unseen distance. An unseen memory, perhaps. Or a train of thoughts Ling really oughta pry after for his own safety.

And yet, no such instinct strikes when Ed says, “I’m figuring it out too, I guess.”

“Me?” Ling realizes faintly.

Ed’s eyes sparkle even without the sun when they turn to Ling. “I told you not to take it personally yet.”

Ling straightens. “Am I wrong, then?”

Ed shakes his head, staring ahead with a low chuckle. He doesn’t answer that either, but Ling has a feeling the answer wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

Edward’s giving him a chance. A chance to patron to their journey home, should Ling please him. After the loss of Athena’s favor, this is a golden opportunity. In several senses of the word.

For now, the best response is this: to kiss the back of its hand before he leaves—and pray to the gods he doesn’t waste another blessing.

(“Ooooh, looking a little red there, goldilocks. Guess this one’s okay, after all?”

“WHA—GREED! There you are!”

“Aw, did you miss—ohhh, shit. Put down the rat spell, kid—”

“SHOULD’VE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU GAVE HIM THAT DAMN MOLY! GET BACK HERE!”)

[welcometothejianghu]

I can't actually recommend Psych-Hunter, as it's not, strictly speaking, what you'd call good. It has, however, made us laugh out loud several times, and a lot of the visuals are really clever, and it's got to know what it's doing with how gay it's making those main boys (to say nothing of the police captain and that little cop who totally has a crush on him). It's weird and it's fun, and if you're looking for a thing to watch, you could do a lot worse!

NOTE: The preceding paragraph was written before I watched the last episode.

Look, this show is a hot mess. Let me break it down:

The good: some amazing visuals; excellent costuming (like, even when it's ugly, it's still good?); delightfully batshit worldbuilding decisions; fun short-arc mysteries; hella gay bromance; delicious boy tears; incredibly endearing secondary cast; great Psychonauts-esque plot device; some gorgeous mindscapes done with (mostly) practical effects; did I mention those two boys are real gay for one another?

The bad: little to no narrative cohesion; terribly bad pacing; high body count, especially of ladies; a couple inexplicable heel turns; when the CG is there, it's not great; plenty of unintentional comedy; most overarching mysteries remain completely unsolved.

The ugly: het romance that swings between just plain boring and outright skeevy; absolutely no grasp of the female lead's character; and of course, all the shit it pulls in the last episode.

...But obviously I found the whole mess still pretty compelling despite the flaws, considering I've just written like 1500 words of a Tumblr post that barely anybody else is ever going to read about it! So, uh, maybe that's an endorsement? I can't tell anymore.

Most of those words are beneath the cut, starting with the vaguely spoilery thoughts -- the ones you can read without spoiling yourself for the whole show. I'll mark when the big ones are coming up.

The good and the bad are, I think, somewhat self-explanatory. I want to talk about the ugly a bit, though.

The first two are actually two halves of the same problem. As a character, as she is written, Yuan Muqing sucks. Her entire personality is "whatever we need The Girl to be doing in this scene." She swings from Strong Independent Woman to Damsel In Distress to Spunky Female Police Officer to Spoiled Rich Schoolgirl to Giggling Love Interest with no sense that there should be any consistency between these states. Every detail of her life disappears the second it's not immediately relevant to the plot. She is a selection of two-dimensional objects chosen on a scene-by-scene basis to compliment whatever else is going on around her. I guess you could excuse this by [insert spoilers for the last episode here], but for that to work, the show would have to give off any sense that it understood her characterization was bad in the first place.

Whatever they could have done with the het romance was pretty doomed to fail from the start by having her be so badly written. (There are a few very cute moments they have later on, when they write her like an actual person, but it's too little too late.) She and Jiang Shuo already have little to no actual chemistry together, and the majority of their relationship is artificial overreaction-and-miscommunication conflict. And as though that weren't bad enough, the show keeps making it skeevy by making her so young. She's a high school student who has a very little-girl room, complete with dolls she talks to and petulantly punishes when she has tantrums. Many of her hairstyles and outfits also run young. Nobody gets a canonical age, but she's clearly a teen while both boys seem well into their twenties. The age gap does the relationship no favors.

Worse, the romance largely nukes her relationship to Qin Yiheng. When the show starts, they at least interact with one another, even if it looks like the show's going to get a "girl can't decide which boy she likes!" dynamic going with the main trio. Very quickly, though, she needs to be only The Love Interest for Jiang Shuo, meaning that she barely talks to Qin Yiheng for the whole rest of the show. Even when all three are onscreen together, those two might as well each be invisible to the other. They're not really a triangle -- they're a hinge, and the non-Jiang-Shuo points don't touch.

All that being said, there is such potential in her, and like 95% of that potential comes from the fact that the girl is obviously insane. Beyond even her canonical delusions, That Girl Ain't Right. Everything she does is so much better if you imagine there's a full-on roomba with knives simmering just beneath her bippy, ponytailed surface. She has to be Generalissimo Daddy's good little girl, when deep down she wants to do violence. That's great.

Some of the early promo materials I've seen make mention of how she's supposed to be the muscle of the operation. I wish they'd been far more consistent about that! She should absolutely be the party tank, bounding away from danger with a boy under each arm. All of the "oh no, Muqing got kidnapped/held hostage/threatened!" beats should have been responded to with a shrug.

But of course, it doesn't matter, because...

****MAJOR SPOILERS START HERE****

...it's not real.

Nearly none of it is real. There are two real people in the show, and everyone else is imaginary. Everything Jiang Shuo feels about her is completely one-sided, because she doesn't exist.

I am not categorically opposed to the final plot twist. I actually think, thematically, it makes a fair amount of sense, given how many other dreamscapes and mind-dives we've seen. What I'm opposed to is having it drop in the final episode, when there's no time to deal emotionally with any of it. If you wanted to pull that Inception shit, you should've done it at least halfway through the series. Give poor Jiang Shuo multiple episodes to deal with the truths that a) everyone he loves (minus one person) is a figment of his imagination, b) he is ultimately the one responsible for the horrors he has created, and c) he will have to decide in the end whether to live in the delusion or to destroy it by leaving. Let him wrestle with what he knows vs. what he feels. Give him plenty of time to deal with his guilt about what he's done to Qin'er. That would be delicious. That's not what we got.

Also, you've got to telegraph it, like, at all. As it is, I wondered for a while there whether something weird/bad happened, the real last episode got destroyed, and they had to hastily film an alternate ending. I am all but certain, on reflection, this is not what happened. There are just enough clues planted earlier that, yeah, I'm pretty sure this was the end they meant all along.

Which was such a bad decision. You know all those mysteries you were interested in, the ones driving the plot? Congratulations! You're never going to know! And it's not because the show got canceled or otherwise truncated -- no, it's because the show decided to tell you outright that those mysteries were never meant to be solved. It's a riddle that never had an answer in the first place.

I said at the time that the end feels exactly like an anime that got too far ahead of the manga, ran out of source material, and had to cobble together an ending that wouldn't spoil the manga's eventual logical conclusion. That's not quite what happened, but it's exactly the vibe.

(Not to get too spoilery of other properties here, but yeah, you realize this was the same guy who made Sand Sea, and that actually makes a lot of sense. Speaking of things that ran out the source material...)

My instinct is to tell people not to watch the last episode, to just stop at the end of 35 and make up your own stories about what comes next, but ... you kind of have to see it to believe it. It's worth it for the sheer audacity that would consider this a good ending.

I've seen plenty of people on various sites saying they loved the ending while clamoring in the same breath for a second season. No, friends, you're having the same reaction I did -- you know a twist like that should not be a last-minute drop. It's not a setup for anything; it's what happens when you can't stick the landing, so you throw out a bunch of impressive-sounding nonsense while pretending that was what you'd meant to do all along. A second season wouldn't solve the mysteries, because the show has declared that not only won't they be solved, they weren't even mysteries in the first place. They were fancy shiny meaningless things that made the plot go, and you were stupid for being invested in them.

And by "mysteries" here, I mean the actual things that are being held up as mysterious and in need of a solution, like Liu Zhi's identity and the Yin River treasures and what happened to Papa Qin. I don't mean the things like wtf is going on with Moustache Dad and his weird semi-k*kistan flag -- because those are just fun bits of magical realism worldbuilding. Clearly this is all operating in some urban fantasy next-world-over scenario, where we're in, uhhh, Zhanghai, Zhina. It's real-world enough that we still have the British and the Japanese, but fake enough that whatever was going on with that hypnotism clock and the lake monster skeleton? Totally normal.

I guess that's part of what I find so frustrating, that it made such an interesting world to play around in ... and then took the cop-out "it was all a dream!" explanation. All the trauma and deaths you felt sad about? Irrelevant. All the friends in danger? Who cares! All the stakes you thought mattered? Meaningless. What, you want new stakes to care about? Well, we'd love to, but the last episode's ending. Bye!

Anyway! Frustrating but compelling! I have now burned so many more brain cells on this show than it deserves, and I will probably continue burning more for fanfic purposes. If you made it this far into this nonsense -- both the show and this post -- I salute you.

[biglisbonnews]

Stormy Daniels Is Here For Real Himbo-Daddy Romance Strange things always happen to Stormy Daniels, though the most well-known involves an orange-hued politician, a cover-up conspiracy and a highly publicized legal battle. But that’s not what we're interested in discussing during our conversation over mid-day drinks at a mall in the San Fernando Valley. Rather, we’re here to talk about the dramatic, emotional and just plain wacky occurrences that transpired while she was filming OUTtv’s new opposites-attract dating series For the Love of DILFs, including a supernatural incident that almost took out a hot tub full of daddies and himbos.As the dating show’s host and in-house relationship advisor, the director, producer and former adult star-turned-paranormal investigator spent several weeks living in a South Florida mansion with a group of “young” and “pretty” himbos trying to find the hunky daddy of their dreams. Joining her was Susan, the haunted doll who became a point of contention amongst her Surreal Life castmates, mostly due to their inability to accept her as a member of the household. Unfortunately, this was also the case with a few contestants from For the Love of DILFs, who “ran in freaking out” after spotting Susan in a window overlooking the pool, where “they said they were making fun of her and were taking photos without asking.” Related | 'The Surreal Life' Is the Wildest Celebrity Roommate Situation“And then a palm tree instantly broke in half and landed next to them in the jacuzzi,” Daniels recalls, before launching into a story about how it was amazing to be around “40 gorgeous men and none of them were trying to fuck [her].” Instead, they were more fixated on her husband — another former adult star who was acting as the show’s cinematographer — and were likely responsible for an overnight uptick in sales of his dick molds. Despite their desire to have sex with her husband, not to mention the interpersonal drama required for any good reality show, Daniels says that all of the contestants were ultimately there to form real connections with each other through date nights and challenges. After all, Daniels explains that For the Love of DILFs is a far cry from the Love Islands and the Too Hot to Handles of the world, as it’s a dating show where the $10,000 cash prize is “to invest into their relationship.” “They have to spend it together, so it’s not $10,000 each. It’s for things like trips or bonding,” she elaborates. “One couple even said that if they made it, they were going to use it for a cross-country move to be together.”Not only that, but Daniels — who is a member of the LGBTQ+ community herself — believes the show is truly reflective of both daddy and himbo subcultures, seeing as For the Love of DILFs is helmed by Daddy TV, a queer production company that wanted to ensure the true-to-life casting was representative of the “organically diverse” nature of many daddy/himbo partnerships. ​“It feels more authentic because the producers, directors and writers of the show are actually from the community and they understand them,” she says. “So as ridiculous as it is, it’s not exploitative.”Daniels continues, “I’ve seen some shit, and this doesn’t feel like some more mainstream Hollywood show that’s like, ‘I'm cashing in on this community of people.’ Everyone working on it is young. They’re in the scene.” As for critics who argue that a bisexual cis-woman shouldn’t be hosting a show about gay male relationships, let alone doling out advice, Daniels notes that she had “no real influence” on the dynamics or organization of the show, other than sometimes being the “tiebreaker” during a few of the challenges. And even then, the real heart of the show is fostering “true connection,” not just “the chemistry or who won an athletic challenge or a challenge based on luck,” which makes Daniels the perfect host, according to Daddy TV co-founder Topher Cusumano. “There was no better person to help these men find love with each other than Stormy. She adds so much humor and heart to the show. You can tell just by watching how she was genuinely invested in the singles and their happiness,” Cusumano previously told Deadline, while OUTtv CEO Phillip Webb added that Daniels has “a long public history of standing up for the LGBTQ+ community.” ​“That allyship, star power, and relationship expertise make her the perfect fit to helm a show about guys hunting for love,” Webb said, a sentiment that Daniels goes on to echo in her own explanation. “I have a huge gay fan base. I’ve spoken out and given people the courage or the platform to stand up for themselves and be fearless,” she says before taking a swig of her drink. “And maybe the producers thought that after seeing Trump naked, you couldn't really shock me.”Welcome to "Sex with Sandra," a column by Sandra Song about the ever-changing face of sexuality. Whether it be spotlight features on sex work activists, deep dives into hyper-niche fetishes, or overviews on current legislation and policy, "Sex with Sandra" is dedicated to examining some of the biggest sex-related discussions happening on the internet right now.Photos courtesy of OUTtv https://www.papermag.com/stormy-daniels-dilfs-2659365618.html

[johnny-coxville]

How about a smutty one where the reader works on set and everyone on set is talking about how hot she is and it makes johnny jealous so he takes her into his trailer and makes sure they all know she's his??

I took some creative liberty with this, and threw in a little extra. A long fic for you guys this time.

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Johnny Knoxville x fem!reader nsfw

♡

Bite me

Today was a huge day for Johnny. It was a extremely hot day, and he was doing one his most wicked stunts. The Anaconda Ball Pit. All of the guys showed up. Some to watch, and others to hop right in with him. 

Considering it was so hot today, you decided on a cooler outfit. A simple white tank, and a pair of black shorts. Accompanied by a old pair of Johnny's Converse, that were just a bit too big on you.

 You decided on fishnets with your outfit, just because you liked the way Johnny would peer in your direction. Slipping them over your legs before tying your matted laces. 

Johnny hadn't even seen your outfit until you were on set. Shooting you a smug smile. He was already in his odd outfit. His aviators accompanied his sailors hat and rainbow colored suspenders. 

The guys were huddled around chit chatting before approaching Manny to start the stunt. Steve-o approached you, immediately looking you up and down. He whistled, followed with his signature goofy laugh. "Damn! Johnny's a real lucky lad. Might have to share a piece with me." He said looking to grab Chris. 

You blushed. "Stop it Stephen." You giggled. Steve-o grabbed Pontius's shoulder. Whispering something into his ear and snickering. Chris smiled looking you up and down. He nodded his head whispering something back to Steve-o. 

Johnny walked over, startling you by dropping his heads on your shoulders. "What are you guys doing over here. Hm?" He said looking at Steve-o and Chris with a sneer. The guys had followed Johnny over. Waiting for the stunt to start. Chris and Steve-o just giggled. 

Bam chipped in. "Come the hell on. Hand her the camera and let's get this shit over with." Bam turned to the gear, looking through it for your labeled camera. 

Knoxville's fingers dug into the back of your shoulders. He leaned into your ear whispering to you. "What were you three talking about?" He said in a sweet tone. You froze up a little bit. 

Johnny was always the type to be extremely protective of you. Knowing how the guys were, they would constantly flirt with you. Sometimes to just plain piss Johnny off. 

"They were complimenting my outfit. That's all." You said in a whisper. "Mmmm.. the outfit you wore for me? For my eyes to tear apart?" He said letting go of your shoulders. You didn't get the chance to squeak out a response. 

Bam shoved the camera into your arms, they were nearly prepared for the shooting. He shot you a smile, as Johnny glared at you. Bam whispering something you couldn't entirely makeout, but Johnny didn't look the most happy. 

You strapped your camera around and headed towards the ball pit. Standing right next to Erehen and Dave. Two of the most respectable guys you knew. Johnny eyed your every movement at that point. Not looking directly at you, but throwing side glances. Speaking to Manny about the danger of the stunt. 

Dave gave you a nudge and smiled. "You look really really pretty today. I promise I don't mean that in a creepy way either." He chuckled. Erehen chimed in with the same energetic smile. "I agree! Johnny's Converse really fit you well too. You look beautiful." He said resting his hand on your shoulder a moment. You smiled wide with a small laugh. "You guys are sweethearts." You said only to catch Johnny's stern gaze. You smiled at him, though he kept his straight forward expression. 

Steve-o had come back to you guys, of course adding in a few last words before he was shoed from the scene. "Nah. She's fucking gorgeous. Real fuckable face and ass. Man I could just-" Before Steve-o could finish his graphic detailing, Tremaine grabbed his shoulders. 

"Enough Steve-o. You're not even part of this bit. So you can step back unless you're filming." He said walking him off. You sighed. Adjusting yourself to get ready to film. Dave and Erehen just standing to be in the peanut gallery. 

Once the bit started you filmed. Watching the gruesome sight unfold. You cringed as you watched your boyfriend's wrist receive a wicked bite. Immediately after the cameras quit filming, he ran off set for a medic. 

You sat your camera back down, running after him. He didn't want his arms cleaned, just getting the wound cleaned. Guessing it was some kind of war badge he'd brag about at the bar. Wrapping the bite throughly tight. The blood dried onto his arms, having dripped down all the way to his shirt. 

Once he left the medic tent his eyes caught yours. You ran up to him of course, throwing a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you. Staining the back of your shirt with the last bit of undried blood. He let go of you, stepping a foot back. "So. Do you just let every guy you see fuck you with their eyes?" He said crossing his arms. 

You gave a puzzled look. "PJ what are you talking about." You said crossing your arms aswell. He always got jealous over the guys, and they usually knew it. Steve-o on the other hand just had a tendency of being a dog. 

"I'm talking about you not swatting away the guys! They've been talking about you all day. Teasing me. Then I see you smiling it up while they praise you?" He said cocking an eyebrow. You shifted on your foot. Giving a frown. 

"They're just being nice Johnny. Stop it. You know I only dress like this for you." You said with half a smile. You knew he wasn't genuinely angry with you. Though he did get jealous. And when he got jealous, he only had one way to prove his point. 

"Mmm..." He nodded his head. Arms still folded. "Do you want them to watch you get fucking marked by me then? Do you want them to watch me destroy your begging pussy with my tongue?" He said leaning in closer to you. 

Your stomach dropped. A complete switch in mood. "No.." You said softly. Turning away from him. "Johnny I'm going in the trailer, it's really hot out." You said walking towards the farther back of the lot. Spotting out his trailer. 

You knew what you were doing by now. Setting yourself up to be pleasured by him. Playing stupid to ultimately get your way. He followed close behind you. 

You opened the trailer door, pretending he isn't behind you, acting startled when he grabs a hold of it. Following you through the door. 

Once you were inside he immediately grabbed your waist. Pulling your back against him. His grip bruising your sides. He leaned into your ear. Just breathing his hot breath. "You're mine. Not theirs. You're going to show them who owns you. The man who makes your legs shake.." He said biting into the side of your neck. 

You let out a sudden moan. His teeth grinding into your neck. He moved his lips around your throat. Sucking spots into you. Making sure each one was aggressive and harder then the next. He wanted sloppy markings littered all over you.  

You squirmed under his touch. Trying to break free from his tight hold, though he only held you closer. His love marks hurt. Though brought an odd type of pleasure your way. 

One he was finished with your neck, he pulled his face back. Not letting go of you, but looking down at you. You looked up at him. Still sporting his glasses and hat. You removed his aviators with your free hand, and folded them. Sliding them onto the collar of his shirt. 

He didn't give a reaction. Just keeping his eyes locked with yours. "Go on. Sit down. I'm not done with you." He said letting go of his death tight grip. You sighed. Chills running down your body. 

"Any part of your pretty little body they look at, is going to me covered by me." He said bending down to the couch. He was on his knee's in front of you. Prying your semi clothed legs apart. "The door isn't locked either. Let's hope no one comes in and see's your pathetic little face." 

He said running his hands up and down your thighs. His hands dipping into your inner thighs. He grabbed at the waist of your shorts. Undoing the button and tugging the zipper. You lifted yourself, and he tugged your shorts off. 

Exposing the fact that you chose to wear no underwear beneath, just your fishnets. He smirked. Pulling your shorts from off of your shoes. He kept them on, spreading your legs once more. 

Making bigger holes in your nets, he bit on your inner thighs. Sucking at your soft meat. You kept a hand over your mouth to keep from making noise. Though that aggravated him. Bring his hand up from your thigh, he grabbed your wrist. 

"Don't be afraid to make noise. I want to hear how much you really love me. How good I make you feel." He said continuing to give small kisses. Closer and closer to your throbbing core. Biting marks into your sensitive flesh. The marks on your neck already beginning to show color. 

Your mouth let out small desperate noises as he inched closer. Finally he was at your core. His face just a few inches away. His breath was warm against you. Sending shivers throughout your body. 

He spread your legs as wide as possible. Pulling you lower in the process. Your back slumped on the couch. His fingers reached down to your center. Using two of them to rip the net. He ripped a sizeable hole. 

Big enough to reach your begging center.  Admittedly you were a little pissed. These were your favorite fishnets and now they were torn. Though that didn't matter all too much. Johnny's face was dipped in-between your legs.

Hot breath beckoning your hips to jolt forward. Though you waited in anticipation. His tongue finding your clit his lips attached. Sucking and flicking his tongue. 

You were immediately overun with pleasure. Squirming under his fast touch. His hands holding your thighs down. Pressing you into the couch. He held you back from moving under his touch. Pulling his lips off. He flicked his tongue around your entire pussy. 

Changing his pace every now and then. Then switching to just giving you striped licks. Your hands tugged at his hair. Attempting to suppress your moans. He chuckled beneath you. Enjoying every moment he could taste you.  

Your breath hitched as you felt your orgasm creep closer. "Johnnnyyy. Please! I'm so close." You begged out. His tongue slid around. Stopping entirely. You gasped from the sudden loss of motion. Opening your eyes. 

Your eyes opening only to see the sinister grin of Johnny's face. Letting go of his hair you frowned. Displaying a confused look. "Do you think you deserve to cum on my tongue sweetheart?" He said getting off his knees. He wiped away the slick on his face. Dipping his fingers into his mouth. 

"I'm still mad at you. The way they look at you in that slutty little outfit? You just let them stare." He said in a questioning tone. 

You shook your head no, but this wouldn't satisfy him. "Come on now. Get up. I want you bent over my knee." He said with a beckoning finger. 

You slowly got up, your legs having a hard time keeping you up. Still completely feeling the effects of him. With that, he switched places with you. Sitting down and spreading apart his legs. 

You turned on your heal. Reluctantly laying across his two knee's. He groaned as you got into position. Rubbing at your ass cheeks. 

You lifted your ass, arching your back a small bit. "How many of the guys flirted with you. Hm?" He said giving you a hard smack. The pain ringing through your ass. "Steve-o.." He pulled back and slapped you again. Harder this time. 

You let out a squeak. "Shh shh shh.. You let this happen sweetie. Chriss.." He let out with a smile. Your ass stung, ringing through your entire body. Though it felt amazing. 

He smacked twice consecutively now. The hardest he had. You let out a cry and he rubbed your printed ass. "Dave and Erehen. Is there anyone else I don't know about?" He said with a small chuckle. "No Johnny.." You said trying to wriggle out of the position. 

He didn't grab at you, letting your sore body free. He sat content with what he had done to your ass. He stood up himself and removed his sailor hat. Removing the glasses tucked into his shirt, and pulling his shirt over his head. 

A few knocks came from outside, Johnny's head perking up. He shot a look at you, then back at the door. 

"Who is it?" Johnny called out. Normally he would've stayed silently. Though he had some other unexpected plans to unfold. 

"It's Chris! We weren't sure where you went." He said through the door. Steve-o chimed in presumably next to him. "Yeah dude! That snake bite was fucking gnarly." He said louder then Chris. 

Johnny looked over to you and smirked. "Why are you looking at me like that!" You whispered over to him. He shifted his eyes away, back towards the door. 

"How about you two come in here." He said opening the trailer door. You immediately got into the corner to try and hide your naked bottom half. 

They obliged and entered the trailer. "No, no, no. Come here sweetheart." Johnny said stepping away for a moment. 

Both the guys had confused expressions. Unsure to why Johnny invited them in, and why he was shirtless. Assuming he was going to play some sick prank on the both. Johnny grabbed at you in the corner. Whispering in your ear. "You're going to show them how much of a slut you are for me. I'm going to fuck you, and they're going to watch." He said, two hands firmly on your shoulders. 

Your face went cold, but the heat in your body spiked. Was he really going to do this? No doubt. 

You stepped out, practically being dragged. Chris and Steve-o both starring. Mouth agape. Your fishnets did zero justice in covering any part of your body. 

They stood speechless a moment, before Johnny spoke up. "How about you guys stay awhile? She wanted some company while she gets her pussy fucked." He said beginning to undo his belt. 

They eyed the markings on your body carefully. Knowing Johnny meant business. Chris was silent. A bit unsure of what to do. "Don't worry guys. Her pussy is mine, but feel free to shoot your loads onto her. She knows who she belongs to." 

He said dropping his pants to his ankles. Steve-o immediately took up on the offer. Giving himself a quick rub through his pants. You didn't object the situation, admittedly extremely turned on by the ordeal. 

You pulled your tank off, exposing the upper half of your body. Your breasts free from the scratchy material of your tank top. 

You stood awkwardly in just your nets, basically entirely naked. Once Johnny was completely naked, he sat on his couch once more. Patting his thighs to get you on. 

It wasn't the most comfortable position. But you straddled his thighs. Your back facing towards him. You saddled him reverse cowgirl. You hovered over his length. 

He slowly guided himself inside the makeshift hole in your fishnets. You lowered yourself as much as you could to take him entirely. His cock completely inside of you. Resting a moment. It slid in easily due to the pooling wetness you had created. 

Once you were adjusted, you jerked your hips a small bit. Admitting a small laugh from Knoxville's chest. He let out a small low grown before he grabbed at your hips. Bouncing you slowly up and down. 

Chris watched intently as he stood. Stroking himself through his camo shorts. His imprint extremely visible due to his size. You weren't sure how long you would last like this. Between the feeling of his cock and two of your closest friends watching you get fucked. Johnny's rythem was deep and slow. Torturing you with his body. He whispered soft things into your ear as you did your best to look away from the two men. Feeling shameful everytime you saw them. 

"You're such a little fucking whore. You're going to take all three of our loads and then cum all over my dick?" He said massaging your waist as the two of you rocked eachother. 

Steve-o had completely taken himself out of his pants, a fist full of his length in hand. Slowly jerking himself. He watched with a smile. Knowing exactly where he wanted to shoot himself. 

Chris had pulled himself down to his boxers. Still just groping himself through the fabric. Johnny's hands reached from your waist to your breasts. 

Picking up his pace a bit he was sloppy. Not holding you in place. Instead squeezing and kneading at your bouncing breasts. 

Steve-o stepped a small bit closer. Chris getting in closer aswell. Chris pulling his length out of his boxers.

Johnny moved his hands back to your hips. Driving you down hard on his cock. Rough bounces at a high speed. He groaned, as you begged him to fuck you. 

"I knew you would enjoy this you fucking whore. I'm going to fuck you until you know who owns your pretty little body." He said shifting his position just slightly. His cock hitting a entire new area. 

Your pleasure was spiked, and you let out a struggled moan. By now both Steve-o and Chris were working at themselves. Watching your used body. You could feel yourself coming undone. Johnny relentlessly slamming into you. His groans turning into guteral growls. 

Steve-o was the first to go, letting out a small groan and leaking out his load. Johnny chuckled. You could pay no attention, you were only focus on the insane pleasure your boyfriend brought you. 

It was nearly too much to handle. His noises fueling you. As you began to twitch and convulse around him, Chris stepped forward quickly. Shooting his load onto your breasts the best he could. 

As he did you yelled. Johnny pulling on your hips as his orgasm ripped through. "You're going to be fucking leaking with my cum bitch." He groaned out as you felt the warmth of his load fill inside. A building pressure inside. He held himself in deep, and you attempted to ride out the last of your orgasm. 

He removed one hand from your hips, pulling at your hair. Snapping your head back. Into your ear he whispered. "Now you KNOW. Who fucking owns you. That's my fucking pussy to cum inside of. You're mine." He said letting go of your hair. 

Chris and Steve-o fixing themselves up. Still watching with fascination. Once Johnny was satisfied, you both struggled to untangle from one another. Once you were off of him, his cum seeped from inside. 

He pressed the last bit of cum from his tip and stood up wobbly. "You two can go now, unless you want to clean this off my dick." He said letting out a small laugh. Chris let out his last words and opened the trailer door. Steve-o needing to make his last remark. "We need to do this more often. That's the best fucking load I've ever had." He said shooting you a smile. 

You just rolled your eyes. Watching him leave the trailer. Once you two were alone again, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips and smiled. 

"I love you sweetheart. Hope you don't hurt too bad." He said tracing his fingers around the markings he left on your body. You shook your head. "I love you too Johnny." You said finding your clothes on the floor. 

You headed towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. Walking back onto set would feel extremely shameful. Though Johnny would be extremely proud with his handy work. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[shyinadarkplace]

Oblivious and Envy

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader. Warnigns: None I think this is pretty clean. but like bad language maybe. A/N: This is the product of a request given to me by @mariidepp . The request was "the reader is kinda jealous because a lot of women have been flirting with Jason lately and he doesn't seems to have a clue until the reader gets mad." Let me tell you this was fun.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that I am lucky. Not only is Alfred my godfather who has taken care of me since my family disappeared, but also I have grown up with the Waynes. I have been there through everything. However I was closest to Jason, being the same age we were thick as thieves. We did everything together, trained, went to school, and patrolled. Jason was my first kiss. When he died my world went dark. It was a very very long time before I got back to some what normal. Then suddenly one day he was back, I knew it was him the second I saw him. It didn’t matter that he was in the Red Hood costume. Or that it had been years. I knew it was him. In my head that scene from Princess Bride played, ya know the one where Buttercup finds out that Wesley is actually alive. Anyway, let's fast forward. After some healing and when he had returned to the BatFamily, once again Jason and I were joined at the hip. Naturally we started dating and have been for years now. Here is the thing, Jason is gorgeous. I mean absolutely melt worthy. I however am not. I am sort of plain. Obviously I am very fit but I still have a soft tummy, big thighs, ya know . I have never figured out for the life of me how my body retains all this softness with all the crap I do. The past few weeks have been especially hard. Why? You ask. Let me tell you.

Two weeks ago.

Jason and I were out on a date. He’d asked me to dress to the nines and I did. “Fuckin hell (y/n/n) you look stunning.” Jason said as I came down the stairs. I laughed. Dick stood beside him and teased, “Bro you act like you have never seen her dressed up before.” “Shut up. I’ve never seen her dressed in that.” Dick looks me up and down with a hungry look on his face. Jason growls “I’ll feed you your own eyeballs Grayson.” I can’t help but laugh again, I know Dick is just doing it to mess with Jason. He has Starfire, and they are so incredibly in love I don’t think either of them is physically capable of being attracted to another being. “Jason.” I say softly “Come on. Didn’t you say you wanted to show me off or something like that?” His mood shifted and he gave me that gorgeous smile. “Yeah I did. Let's go.” Once in the car his hand is immediately on my thigh. It’s a quiet ride, easy and comfortable. I gasp when we pull up to the restaurant. “Jason, how did you get a reservation?! Oh my god!!!” He runs his hand through his hair and for half a second looks shy. “Well I am an adopted son of Bruce Wayne….Not gonna lie he called. Hahaha.” I just grinned. “Thank you. I am so excited.” “Alright well then lets go. I haven’t had good sushi since Bruce took us all to Japan.” “Same.” I agreed. Believe me there are some great places to get sushi in Gotham but once you have the real deal it is all a pale comparison, though they are fine in a pinch. The valet comes over as Jason helps me out of the car, as I stand and Jason closes the door, he just stares. Jason clears his throat, “Yeah she is hot as hell, but she is mine. Here are the keys. Don’t scratch my car.” As we walk away Jason offers me his arm and I gladly take it. We are ushered in and suddenly it's like we are in Japan again. I gasp. “This is beautiful. Jason, thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me baby,” he was just about to say something else when three women who looked like asian supermodels came up. “Mr. Todd please this way.” as they lead the way they keep looking back at him. Well fuck here it goes. We sit and they prepare the table. “So what would you like to order?” One of them says as we sit down, Jason just looks at me with a wtf look. “We need a moment to look over the menu. But could we get a couple of waters and a bottle of your best sake please.” I smile up at them trying my best to keep calm, something about the women irking my soul. For a moment they don’t move but when Jason says nothing they rush away. After they leave we start looking at the menu, and let me tell you they have everything. I let the shit with the waitresses fade. A guy brings over our drinks and sets up the sake for us. Jason gives him a nod and he is off, we fall into the easiness that is our whole relationship and I couldn't be happier. Finally the waitress comes back over, let me rephrase the three waitresses. Jason gets up and leans over “I’ll be right back. Bathroom.” I nod. Once he is out of sight one of them says “We will just wait until he comes back to take the order.” I look at them shocked. “No. I am ordering for both of us. If you are too focused on gawking at my fiance, I will find other servers or preferably just one server who can do their job.” Needless to say that dinner went smoothly after that. However it really doesn’t help with how I’d been feeling.

Today Ya know I fucking love Jason. I love everything about this man, but right now I really can’t tell if he is seriously oblivious to all these women flirting . Honestly you are right, if he isn’t paying attention then I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. I guess it is just the blatant disrespect for me that has me ready to flip my shit. We are standing at the counter of our favorite ice cream shop and the chick behind the counter is eye fucking my fiance . “Sooo,” she says, making her voice all low and sultry “Do you see anything you like?” I snort softly and she shoots me a dirty look. As Jason orders for us she sticks a Sugar Daddy in her mouth and continues making advances. When she gives a soft little moan I snap. “ Would you please stop that! He is clearly not interested so could you just give us our ice cream so we can go?” The girl snarls. Fucking snarls at me. “I wasn’t doing anything that concerned you. So mind your business.” That’s it. I snatch the front of her uniform slamming her head into the counter. “Everything about him is my business you two bit hussy. He is MY fiance!” I turn and storm out of the place while she cries on the floor. Jason quickly catches up and herds me into an alley caging me with his body. “Hey now what the hell was all that about?” His voice is low and slightly concerned. I just sigh, pushing him away. “It's nothing, let's just go home.” He doesn’t even budge. Well fuck. “Don’t lie to me. I am usually the one doing face bashing. What is going on with you?” I cross my arms over my chest feeling a little defensive. “Damn it J ! The past few weeks it's like you have been a chick magnet and women are constantly ignoring the fact that I am even around. If they aren’t ignoring me they are giving me dirty looks and making asshole comments. It’s frustrating and kinda hurtful.” He still doesn't move. Damn it he knows me to well. "okay let me count. There was two weeks ago at the sushi place. Later that night on patrol. The next day that woman dropped a stack of books as SHE bumped into you and got all giggly. Couple days after that when we went to the mall women were either eye fucking you or flirting. not to mention that in every store they were rude about my size and basically refused to help. There was a few quite days because we didn't go anywhere. Then yesterday that lady slipped her friggin underwear in your jacket pocket . And today this!" It felt really good to get it all out. For a moment he just stares hotly at me with those 10 fathom sea eyes and I almost forget about all of the bull crap. I forget everything when he cups my cheek and kisses me hard and long. When I am panting for breath he pulls away. “Let me tell you,” his voice dark and husky, “there are more women in the world than men. But there is only one woman that I care about and it is the curvy, sexy, strong, badass little firecracker I have in my arms. Next time give me a tap or something and I can make it blatantly obvious that I am now and forever in love with you.” I can’t help the way my face breaks out in a goofy grin. “I love you too.” He pulls away grinning, “Come on let's go home, I’m sure Alfred has our favorite ice cream anyway, besides I have plans for every inch of your body.”

[oswlld]

AN ODE TO REAL RED (or, i didn’t wake up planning to write an analysis on storytelling through red but here we are)

look, im really out of my depth here. i really am not one to make these lengthy, wordy analysis posts that articulate what color means to me. (if it’s your kind of thing, pls go read everything @dribs-and-drabbles posts! i love it there and look forward to the episodic breakdown each week). and yet, after my first rewatch, it hit me how much the color red spoke volumes. it hits different because it really explored the color in the way traditional storytelling and filmmaking treats color: as a visual dialog; to draw out depth in a scene.

ive told @talays-portkey that i needed to turn off everything i learned in color theory (and production/post-production for that matter) when i go into each episode. why? this show pokes fun (and i LOVE them for it, to an extent) at using the concept of color to saturate the show: tess’ wardrobe, spotlights, set locations, the collective group at the assoc, and script all create this gorgeous, playful style that works into believing it’s a different universe. there’s specifics in the worldbuilding (ex: counting, flowers, the beer) and then there’s the production that makes it fun to guess how each episode will build on the last.

but i think Real Red really shines in bringing us back to their world. to me, it’s the show’s way of telling me, “hey, time to turn that brain on because it’s now a dialog. look at what it’s telling you now.”

it gets reallllly lengthy (literally an a-z on everything on red i found), see ya under the cut

let me preface this by saying that this has no merit beyond my own interpretation of the visual dialog and it consistently fell into two categories: 1) of course, Dang translates to Red (so, Puen) and 2) Red symbolizing STOP.

a. the first real hint at red in the ambulance scene (not pictured, the vehicle itself probably also red); but i find this show a nice set up when the reflection lines up with the red, where the reflection would line up with his chest, like yes bb you are Dang b. and then we know how this scene continues, with the medical gear in the bg; fits the scene, him thrashing about and begging to leave, but everyone is telling him to STOP and pins him down

c. since we flip back to the au, this red is serving the two worlds imo - it’s being playful as a set for the Red episode, while at the same time, it’s a dialog; here, it represents the vehicle that will bring talay to puen (the secret island) but also the tides are preventing talay from crossing; d. he’s wearing the lighter end of the red palette; the boat is turned over, a visual representation of a STOP

e. he’s playing with the red controller… i love a show

f. the overflow of fan support (which, aww! deserved) has a specified cubby in his apartment, in plain sight; it’s not organized in any particular way but still there for him to see (there’s something to be said about his character but this post isn’t about that) g. then we get the bucket hat callback (SOBS) and we have the camera lined up like so - not only showing how much his heart misses talay, but the oncoming divide that the fans will create between them

h. back to the au, where puen’s wish is written in red i. when i say this show has layerssss

j. (SOBS AGAIN) no but really, when i heard his mom’s voice and he just STOPS; i thought to myself, “is2g if she’s wearing red, i will never speak ill of this show ever again" (pending transaction); there’s plenty of other posts about the art in the bg that you can find in the tag

k./l. now we get into the push and pull of getting them reunited; this is when the push and pull comes in the form of green vs red; the universe is both trying to bring them together and keep them apart; nature/set is organically telling them where they will eventually end up (glass house), but the artificial inserts of red also is STOPPING them from letting it happen

m. STOP interviewing!

n. STOP and take a break (au version) o. STOP and take a break (ou version)

p. the green vs red continues (outside edition)

q. red vs green (inside edition), but this is where the visual dialog really stands out; here, the tim horton’s Red is evenly halved with the green wall, representing the turmoil talay is in r. we switch to where puen’s voice is coming from, where the green starts to outweigh the red

s. the close up now positions talay to have the plants in the bg as he hears puen’s speech confirm his true feelings for him t. without saying a word, talay rushes back to the theater and we see him physically abandon red

u. i love a good wardrobe choice; something something when a person embodies a house v. the lamp speaks for itself *shoves mic at it*

w. just wanted to point out that the last time we were in this glass house in the au, puen was sitting in that corner with his apology; intentional or not, i think it’s lovely that the hint of Red is in the same place x. he STOPS (and i CRY)

y. when doubt creeps in and he thinks it’s still tess, i love that red is still peeking through; literally STOPPING him from believing who is in front of him and almost leaves z. “ai DANG” (and then my soul left my body and the shell of user talaypuens writes this post)

bonus: this can be interpreted in two ways - either they are recreating a piece of the au in their own personal space or we treat it as the visual dialog (that it’s both Puen and it’s a warning… to STOP??)

… i’ve expended all my brain power for the weekend, welp

[djmarinizelablog]

Ultimate Bonding Experience

Summary:

Hange and Moblit follow Levi and Petra on a date. It's a disaster.

Tags:

one-shot, fluff and humor, nonbinary Hange, they/them pronouns for Hange, officemates, best friends forever, friends to lovers, jealous Hange

Notes:

This is for the Levihan Filo Week Day 4 Prompt, Tourist Destinations, featuring Greenbelt, Makati (Yes, the audacity of me.)

—

"You're going out on a date with Petra?” Hange stood up too quickly, knocking down the pen holder on their office desk in process. “As in… Petra Rall? From the Marketing Department? As in, sweet-as-candy, honey-bunny, gorgeous glam girl Petra?”

Levi swiveled his computer chair to face his best friend. "She asked me out."

"Hmm. And you didn't say no?" Hange was absentmindedly tapping the end of the pencil against their lower lip.

He gave a half-shrug. "Wanted to try something new for a change."

This was really new. Hange was incredulous. Levi never went on dates. Levi went on food trips and grocery shopping and karaoke nights (mainly due to Hange’s persistent nagging), but he never agreed to a date. There were always other people around whenever they hung out. The two of them had been best friends since college, and now as colleagues, Hange could tell from the numerous awkward and sort-of romantic encounters with Levi that Petra wasn't exactly his type.

"Is this a joke? Is this for a dare?" Hange kept prodding. They would bombard him with questions nonstop until he gave in. “Did you hit your head somewhere? Are you dying?”

"No, I just told you, Four-Eyes, I wanted to try something new.” Levi returned to his work and continued typing on his computer. “She said she already has planned something for tomorrow."

"This isn't you, Levi. You don't like itineraries," Hange said, sitting down to compose themself, gripping the pencil in their hand and holding it too tightly against the notepad.

"Maybe it's about time I do."

“So you’re choosing her over me?” Hange was already upset. Their hand was already shaking at this point, the tip of their pencil threatening to break. Levi would usually hang out with them to binge-watch a show or series on Saturdays over pizza and cheap beer, which reminded her, “What about our UBE?”

“Our—what?” He looked over his shoulder, confused.

Hange gave him a hopeful smile, hand still resting on the paper. “Our Ultimate Bonding... Experience?”

Levi glued his eyes to his computer screen once more. “You can Netflix and chill on your own for one night.”

The pencil snapped in half.

—

It was only 6 pm and Hange had already downed half a bucket of beers this Friday evening. Tomorrow morning, Levi would meet up with Petra somewhere for their date, maybe have lunch, a movie, some hand-holding and kissing, and then the two would possibly end it up with a bang. Something was really boiling deep inside Hange as these imagined scenes flashed through their mind.

And Erwin had to bear with them for tonight.

"I just don't understand, 'Win," Hange started, "Why would he do this? Why would he trade our pizza night for a girl he can't even relate to?"

Erwin was Hange and Levi's colleague in the same department before he got promoted to an executive position in corporate. Times like this, he would lend an ear to his friends' complaints and act as some sort of a part-time counselor, part-time therapist, and full-time drinking buddy.

Hange should be thankful Erwin had never charged them for these sessions before, but now with all of their whining, he was probably regretting that he gave them for free.

"Last I checked, you guys are just best buddies," Erwin commented. "Have you ever told him how much he means to you?"

Hange pouted.

"I'll take that as a no," Erwin said.

Their friend had a point.

"I can imagine it already, " Hange mused, eyes already watery, "I can imagine him walking down the aisle with pretty-face Petra and making babies with her, while I end up becoming that unknown relative who sends them presents for Christmas every year."

"Ah, I can imagine all the regrets you'll be having for the rest of your life."

Hange grabbed a fistful of hair in both hands. "What do I do now? I want Levi to be happy, I really do. I want to see him be happy, even if it's not with me. But why am I getting all riled up about this?"

"Then follow him," Erwin simply said as he wiped the beer of his mouth with his sleeve. "Follow him to the ends of the earth. Maybe you'll see for yourself."

Erwin had meant it as a figurative speech. When he said follow, he meant Hange supporting Levi all the way through. He never meant Hange stalking their best friend on his date.

Obviously, Hange had gotten it all wrong, because now they just blinked once, twice, a grin forming on their face. As if an epiphany had appeared before them. "Hmm. You're right."

Follow him.

This could be the greatest thing that Erwin Smith had ever come up with. Brilliant idea. Superb, even. One-of-a-kind strategy by none other than the genius Erwin Smith—oh, yes, yes, yes.

Erwin was still finishing up his beer when Hange tackled him into a hug out of gratitude, their smile wider than before. "You really are the best of the best, you know that?" They told him. This could work, Hange thought.

The plan was to follow Levi, literally.

—

"Boss, why did you pay me a hundred bucks to follow them?"

Hange was wringing their hands together. "We’re doing this together, Moblit! I wanna see how Levi acts around this girl."

"That's it?" Poor Moblit couldn't believe what he's hearing.

"I just wanna make sure he's making a good impression!"

They’re both sitting in a cafe right across Levi’s apartment. He and Hange were dressed up in plain clothes with matching sunglasses and baseball caps. Moblit had no choice; Hange was going to strangle his neck if he declined.

Moblit rested his head against his palm. "Aren't you jealous?"

"Pffft, me? Jealous?" The sour look on Hange's face was enough to tell Moblit that they weren't fooling anybody. It was just Levi’s attitude towards the entire ordeal that was tearing Hange apart. “I’m sure I’m not being rude.”

Moblit scratched his head and sighed. Hange as a boss could be really demanding at times, but the two of them were also friends in real life, which is why he agreed to this. "I thought Petra was head over heels for Oluo?"

"I thought so, too."

"He's dense, though," Moblit said. "Maybe this was just a ruse to get Oluo to confess?"

But Hange was already distracted by the sight of Levi coming out of the building.

"Ooh, he's leaving." Hange pointed towards the familiar figure. They then put their shades on as part of their undercover mission. "Let's go."

The two of them hid behind the fast food mascot of the big fat stupid ugly bee. Levi really knew how to dress up, Hange had noticed. He was wearing a plain button-up with dark pants, his hair neatly trimmed and his face cleanly shaven. He never dressed up like this whenever they hung out. It hurt Hange to see him this handsome. Levi then headed straight for the nearest station and waited for the next train to arrive. Hange and Moblit then took the same train but stayed on the other rail cart, catching a glimpse of Levi every now and then to make sure that he hadn't alighted by then.

“What would you do if they do end up together, Boss?” Moblit had to ask.

“I'd sign my life away as a single person for the rest of my years. Be an old cat person, maybe.”

The skyscrapers of Makati were passing them by, huge billboards left and right of commercial ads and government campaigns looming over them. If they looked far enough, they could see shanties and informal settlers nested in small alleys here and there. Hange had been seeing this for the past few years of their lives; Metro Manila could be daunting, but they wished they could spend away from the noisiness and busyness of the capital.

“He's getting out at Ayala Station, Boss!" Moblit pointed out. "They’re probably meeting somewhere in Greenbelt.”

“Ah, fancy-schmancy. Who could have known?”

Makati was the place only for the very rich, or for the very poor. There was no in between. Nobody dared to bat an eyelash at the rickety houses behind the skyscrapers. The shopping district and the high-end restaurants where affluent people would gather: celebrities, business executives, expatriates, anyone who could call themselves rich, rich, rich. Hange was none of those. Levi wasn't either, but he could easily pass off as one if he wanted to.

When they got off at the station, Hange and Moblit crouched behind the dumpster, craning their necks enough to get a glimpse of Levi coming up to Petra who stood waiting in front of the fountain.

“Ah, I’m so glad you’re here,” Petra said, her smile warm and happy as Levi walked alongside her. “Shall we?”

Petra was effortlessly gorgeous. She had her hair clipped into place, her slender figure matching the nice summer dress that she wore. She had also put on some light makeup, but even without it, Hange could tell that Petra would still be as breathtaking.

There really wasn't anything that Hange could hate about Petra Rall. Petra was attractive and alluring, sweet and shy, probably the ultimate dream girl of every person in their office. Hange would date Petra if she were even into them, provided the two of them had a spark.

But Hange's attention was all for Levi. Always had been. Always will be.

"Shall we, Boss?" Moblit interrupted Hange's train of thought.

"Right."

Tonight they felt that they had to accept the possibility of Levi ending up with someone else. Regardless of how this would end, Hange had decided they'd be there for him.

—

They didn't really blend in with this fancy-schmancy place. This was one of the most expensive fashion malls in the area; the price tags made broke people cry, and the restaurants were considered artisan for their taste. People were dressed up in crisp polos and cocktail dresses, the faint smell of perfume wafting here and there. The gardens had a beautiful landscape, stoned paths paving the way, and the lights were carefully draped on the trees around them, glowing like stars. It was a romantic setup for lovers.

Petra was pointing out all the different sights around the area, holding onto Levi's arm. Levi remained stiff all throughout their date, not even shedding a single ounce of emotion when Petra popped a joke. It ended up being a lousy one, though, since Levi didn't even scoff. Hange felt smug after that; their own jokes were terrible as well, but at least Levi would call them out for that.

"I think it's going well, don't you, Boss?" Hange's assistant teased.

“Oh, yeah, perfect, I can see how compatible they are.” Hange was being sarcastic.

Petra had chosen a place called People's Palace. It had a five-star rating on the internet, and even the cheapest item on the menu could break a whole in someone's wallet. There was no way they could eat there. Levi didn't even protest, though. He must have been saving up for this all along. Thankfully, the restaurant's walls were a solid transparent glass, and Hange could see the two of them from afar without having to go in.

Petra was saying something in a hushed tone when Levi came over to her side. He then put a hand on her face, tenderly brushing her cheek, as if he were about to go in for a kiss.

The moment Levi held Petra that close, Hange had to stifle their gasp which ended up like a strangled cry.

The sound made Levi look over his shoulder. Moblit had to cup his hand over Hange's mouth to shush them up, pulling them down behind the huge pots of plants.

"You alright?" Petra asked him, craning her neck towards the source of the sound as well. "What was that?"

Levi clicked his tongue. "Probably some lost bird. Well, more like a dying one."

The two went back to their meals and didn't bother to check if they were being followed. Moblit then let go of Hange and sighed in relief. They were safe, for now.

Everyone in the restaurant looked classy and elegant, soft lights all over the room. After Levi had paid for the meal (he didn't look too happy when he saw the check), he and Petra stood up and exited through the other door on the farthest end. Hange had forgotten about that. The People's Palace had an entryway connecting to the indoor gardens. They would have to enter the premise in order to follow Levi and Petra.

Without any further thought, Hange immediately stood up to barge into the restaurant, urging their assistant to follow. "They're probably confessing to each other in the gardens!" Hange was already right through the entrance. "Moblit, hurry up, I need to—"

"Boss, watch out!"

The warning came in too late. Hange had already knocked down a drink from the waiter's tray right behind them, the liquid spilling all onto the customer sitting nearest to where they were. The huge beefy man was furious, the steam already coming out of his reddened ears.

"Why, you, son-of-a-gun—"

Hange held up both hands in front of their face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"Do you even belong here, you prick?" The stranger grabbed the front of Hange's oversized shirt. There were gasps from other customers, and one of the servers left to call the manager.

"Please, don't!"

The man started shaking Hange. "Filthy, pathetic, piece of—"

Somebody grabbed his wrist before he could even do anything else. "Let go."

It was Levi.

"And who the fuck are you?"

He was small, but his presence was intimidating, firm. "My friend already apologized. Isn't that enough?"

The stranger released his hold of Hange and held out the stained fabric. "Fucking pay for this shirt, asshole!"

Hange was mouthing 'sorry, sorry, sorry,' to him, their eyes filled with apology. Levi didn't bat an eyelash. Instead, he quickly took out twenty bucks from his wallet and shoved it into the huge man's hand. He then grabbed his friend by the elbow. "Hange, come on."

"Hey, this isn't enough, shortstack," the stranger grumbled, crumpling the bill. He gestured once more to his stained shirt. "Do you know how much I bought this for?"

"You could buy a similar one from one of the thrift stores downtown for less than half the price. I doubt anybody would notice." He tugged at Hange again and headed for the exit.

"What did you say, you little—"

They were out of the restaurant before the man could even finish. The manager had kept the customer in his seat, trying to console him with a discounted coupon.

Outside was a breath of fresh air, the coolness of it enough to clear their minds.

“You alright?”

Hange was still trembling. Their lips quivered, too. They had never been roughly-held like that before. Levi calmed them down by rubbing their back, urging them to take slow, steady breaths.

"Levi?" Petra called after the two of them. "Are we still heading to the movie?"

Hange had feared this all along. They didn't want to ruin his date with Petra; they merely wanted to see Levi, and now they had done it. Hange held their own face in both hands. Levi saw it and knew what he had to do.

“I’m sorry, Petra, but we should probably call it off at this point.”

"Should we re-sched?"

Levi paused before responding. "I had a good time tonight, Petra. But I think... once is enough.

“Oh. Okay.” Petra stood still for a moment, disappointed. They expected her to cause a scene, to thrash at him or at Hange, and then complain about her evening. But to Petra's credit, she merely broke into a smile and said, "Thanks for giving me a chance, Levi. I had a good time, too. You guys enjoy the rest of the night."

The huge beefy man suddenly burst out of the glass door, the restaurant manager no longer able to hold him back. "You fucking punks, I'm going to call the police—"

Hange hid behind Levi out of instinct, which didn't make any sense, considering that he was a couple inches shorter than them. "What now?" Their hand was still in his.

"Go ahead, Petra's safe with me," Moblit assured them. "I'll text you guys once we get home safely."

Levi nodded and took off with Hange.

They ran past the gardens, past the expensive shops, past the fountains and the bright lights. Everything seemed like a blur. Hange's senses had overloaded their brain at this point, especially since Levi's hand was still holding on to theirs. It was warm. They never expected any of these to happen. Levi would look over his shoulder once in a while to see if Hange could still keep up. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, and with every tug of their hand, Hange felt like they were living in a dream. The two of them had already reached the station, heavily panting as they clutched their chest.

"So much for trailing me all this time, Four-Eyes," Levi heaved. He knew.

Hange was beyond apologetic. "I'm sorry, okay! I just wanted to see how you'd act around someone while on a date."

Levi made another scoffing sound. For a minute, Hange thought he was mad. But the intensity in his eyes was full of longing, like somehow, he did want Hange to follow him. And then Levi sighed. "Erwin told me you might be spying; my suspicions were confirmed when I saw you hiding behind the plants."

“Oh.” Hange had nothing else to say. “Well, then, I, uhm, I should probably head home. Sorry for ruining your date."

They were about to leave when Levi held their hand once again, stopping Hange in their tracks. "Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"You already ruined my date, so you might as well hang out with me for the rest of the night."

Hange couldn't believe what they were hearing. It was almost too good to be true. But the reality dawned upon them; they were still in Makati, and they couldn’t really afford any of these places. "Uh… well, I don't really have any money, and I'm not really sure I want to dine here…"

"It's fine,” Levi said. “I know a place to go."

-------

Part 2 coming up soon!

[kenmasgameboy]

chapter 18: my girlfriend.

previous…next

masterlist

kuroo tetsurou came into y/n’s life when she needed him to fuck it up the most.

a/n: this chapter is an intense one, i put the trigger warnings that i could think of below. if i ever miss anything please feel free to send me a dm or an ask, i’m also always looking forward to your guys��� comments and asks, please don’t forget that i always read them. i want this to be a safe place for everyone :)

trigger warning: bullying, cursing/vulgar language, and violence (smacking, stepping and spitting). anxiety.

╭⋟─────────────────────╮

Your book is dripping wet, the pages turned to a fragile paste and falling apart at the touch. Your hair was wet, buckets of water had been prepared just for you. In your honor, four older girls had decided to go out of their way to prepare a bucket of water to dump all over your head.

“What did we tell you?” Their leader, Yui, kicked you in the stomach. “I thought we were very clear yesterday that you cannot talk to Kuroo-san.”

“And then you walked home with him!” One of the other girls spoke, but at this point their voices meshed together in your head. You tried staring at a paint chip on the ground to try and keep your cool.

I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry.

Your face was pulled off the rough pavement to face Yui’s face by your hair. The beautiful girl holds a fistfuls of your hair and you can get a good look at her this way. She really was gorgeous, she had long hair that was dyed a beautiful blond. You could hardly tell her bright blue contacts weren’t real since they fit into her soft features so well. Her makeup was nothing short of flawless, blending perfectly into her skin that made her look effortlessly beautiful. She looked like an idol, an angel in stood front of you, it was a striking contrast to her harsh words she’s given you over the last week.

“And now he posted about you, too! I told you that Kuroo-kun was mine. I should’ve said something weeks ago when I saw him talk to you here.” Yui stomped her foot, “Don’t you dare lie either, I saw him at your shoe locker this morning.”

“I’m not going to lie.” You said, your voice coming out much quieter than you thought. It was cold outside, and your clothes were wet. You didn’t even want to think about your white shirt.

“Good girl.” Yui smiled, “Now let’s talk about arrangements. Since you obviously didn’t listen yesterday. And I’m what they’d call Kuroo-kun’s guardian angel. I’ve always protected him from skanky bitches like you, who aren’t interested in Kuroo-kun for anything beyond what he can do for you. It’s not my first time, and it won’t be my last either. I love Kuroo-kun more than any of you and I’ve been at this a lot longer than you.”

What the hell is wrong with you?

You were cursing at her in your head, every bit of anger poured from your veins and forced you to clench your fist. This girl was pissing you off to no end, nobody was around at this point. Your fear of shyness being easily overwhelmed by the anger of being controlled.

A part of you selfishly wished that Inuoka or Kuroo would enter this scene right now and intervene. But they couldn’t fix this for you. They weren’t always going to be with you. And you weren’t someone who was going to be smacked around by these girls anymore. This girl must’ve been the one that started those rumors about you that forced Kuroo to intervene for you. You didn’t want anyone to have to do that for you.

“Kuroo-san would never like a girl like you.” You said. You would be proud to know your face never wavered as you spoke. Your voice had only a slight shake, the only tell being the shakes of your hand. Every word granted you a half ounce more of confidence.

“Do you want to say that again, dog?” She stepped on your hand with her foot, all her spite being aimed at you.

“What? I told you I wasn’t going to lie.” You kept your face plain. She spit in it and threw you down. You wiped the disgusting vile away with the back of your hand.

“Keep talking! See what happens.” This was a bet you’re willing to take.

“You’re a very pretty girl. But you’re mean, petty, vengeful, controlling and most of all an idiot if you think I can control how Kuroo-san feels. It’s not my fault he likes me. And if you really liked him, you should want him to be happy, but instead you try to block him off from anything that’d do that.” You said it all while she hardly listened, yawning as you spoke. 

“Are you done?” She asked, you groaned in response. God she was so annoying.

She smacked you.

“You’re going to act like you know him after a few weeks? I’ve been in love with him for three years. He always has doted on me before you got here, he tutored me, gave me parts of his lunch, and he even gave me his jacket when I forgot my umbrella. Every third year girl knows that he’s mine. He’s too mature for younger girls like you, especially ones with their head in the clouds and nose in a book. You don’t even interact with anyone! What’s so good about you! Nothing! So don’t you dare try to act like you’re better than me!” She said her own speech, ending it with pushing her foot down on your thigh. Your knee scratching against the pavement.

“Kuroo-san isn’t a thing you can own..” It was taking everything in you not to cry, you’ve always had a hard time when people yell at you. But the part of you that wanted to defy authority was still winning at the moment.

“God! You’re so annoying. Just listen to me and break up with him so he can love me already! I’m tired of waiting!” Yui was yelling, you were starting to hear voices in the windows behind you crowding over. Your eyes drifted down, your shirt was totally see-through. This was so embarrassing.

You put your arms over your chest to protect yourself. You scolded yourself for not bringing out your jacket.

“No.” You said, strong and out-front.

“I think this is the most this girl has ever spoken..” 

“Normally she’s such a crybaby..”

You heard everything anyone was saying around you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. None of those people knew you.

“You insolent little bitch–”

“Oh? Big word there, did that make you feel like an adult? You read that one in a book?” You were completely unfiltered at this point. None of it mattered to you. Your clothes were wet, your hair was frazzled, your knees scraped and your face spit on. If there was one thing you could do to protect yourself it was your mouth. You had to.

“Shut up! Be thankful your senpai hasn’t ruined your life. Just let him go! You don’t even like him!” She was really fuming, there may as well be smoke coming out of her ears. “I can tell you’re scared, just agree so we can finish this.”

“That’s not true.” You said, your face blushing as the first sign of emotion this whole time.

“Oh, look, she’s blushing.”

“She’s actually so cute.”

“Gah! I hate you!” Yui raises her hand again, the only interruption being the heavy metal door to the courtyard being opened. 

“Stop, stop! Yui, what the fuck are you doing!?” Kuroo, the man of the hour, ran into the courtyard and immediately stripping his blazer off. 

“Kuroo-kun! I’m so glad your here, she was being so mean to us! I was just–” It was Yui’s turn to panic. Her voice quivered as she quickly mustered up tears to fake.

“You think I’m going to believe that when she looks like this?” Kuroo quickly wrapped you in his blazer, the large fabric covering you. His warmth flew threw you as he helped you to your feet and held you into his chest protectively. Your cold skin stealing Kuroo’s warmth. You hadn’t really realized how cold you were.

“I heard you had a volleyball meeting today–”

“After school. Even if I did, did you think I wouldn’t come running after I hear about my girlfriend getting bullied?” Kuroo said, his hand wrapping around your head. Your face was hidden, but he could feel you gasp for breath. The emotions you had been trying to hid getting lost in his chest, your stiff fingers gripped the fabric of his sweater vest. Kuroo’s large palm straightened them against his chest, warming them. “God, she’s freezing.”

“Girlfriend?” Yui was really crying now.

“Yes. Y/N is my girlfriend, and if anyone has a problem with this from now on bring that to me.” Kuroo’s deep voice boomed through the courtyard, it was a warning.

“You can’t be serious! It’s only been a few weeks, you’ll just drop her anyways in a few days right?” Yui had never been caught by Kuroo before, whenever a new girl would try to get close to Kuroo he’d never really minded if they lost touch after a few days. But you were someone he sought out, and tried so hard to figure out, he would never let it go that easy.

“Even if it did, you have no right to do any of this. But I’ll be with Y/N as long as she lets me, because I have deep feelings for her. I don’t expect you to understand but neither of us would ever throw the other away so easily as you’re saying. So leave us the fuck alone.” You had never seen him so angry before. But still he was so delicate to you, lowering his head to your ear to whisper a soft: “Are you ok? You did awesome, but this is over now. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

“I’m sorry.” You said, but it was muffled by his shirt. His chest was so warm and firm, it made you somewhat sad to lose the warmth when he pulled away for only a second.

“Yui, I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings. If I had known you’d feel that way, I would’ve been able to end this sooner. But don’t worry, I won’t be going out of my way for you in the future to avoid any misunderstandings.... I’m going to take her to the infirmary, and I’m telling the nurse everything that happened here.” Kuroo held a strong frame, you winced when you took a step. 

Your knee stung from the blood running down your leg. Kuroo didn’t want you to be here any longer than you needed to be, so he latched his palms under your knee and threw your arm over his shoulder. Bridal style he held you in his arms, girls squealed behind you. Your face practically being glued to his shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

The moment you were back inside you felt warmer. You squeezed him tighter to yourself. You were so afraid, allowing yourself to so easily be weak in front of him.

“W–wait.. Kuroo..” You were letting tears fall. He rolled you in his arms to better hold you there. Your hair smelled like a morning rainfall, you were so cold.

“Not yet. We’re not alone.” He said.

The rest of the time you spent in his arms was silent. And when he got you to the infirmary he was ushered to go back to his class since the bell rang.

“Please, she’s my girlfriend. Can I please stay with her?” You could hear him beg the nurse on the otherside of the curtain from where you were changing out of your wet clothes.

It made you smile, you didn’t know a title like this would make you smile. He never asked you, but he sure got comfortable with it really fast. Maybe it wasn’t real though, you tried to slow your heart beat from beating out of your chest at the thought.

“I’m sorry but school comes first. You can come see her later. She’ll be fine.” The nurse assured him. You peaked your head out from behind the curtain.

“Thank you.” You mouthed it to him and it seemed he understood.

Kuroo didn’t seem pleased, but he still nodded. He bowed to the nurse quickly before exiting. Once on the other side of the door he looked at his hands, his sleeves were still wet from where he held you in his arms. He was chilly from losing his blazer that was now with you. The view he had of the top of your head being forcibly pushed into his chest. His chest still tingled from the imprint of your face.

“Kuroo Tetsuro, you’re awful for thinking like this..” he scolded himself. He just had to pull you out of a situation that he caused, it was because of him that they were bullying you. He needed to apologize properly, but his mind couldn’t help but melt at how close you were to him. How it seemed you invited him to be closer. This 6’3” boy reduced to a crumbled, blushing mess as he squatted next to the infirmary door.

Girlfriend.

Wait.

“She’s my girlfriend....” Kuroo remembered saying that in front of everyone, “Did I... say that out loud?..”

Both his hands were used to smack himself. His face didn’t react from the shock, eyes still wide with two hand prints leftover on his cheeks. He didn’t even ask you to be his girlfriend! What had gotten into him! Even in the heat of the moment, he should have taken at least one second to ask and then ask properly later. No, that would’ve looked suspicious. How rude of him to ignore your feelings like that and announce it in front of everyone without your permission.

I’ve been so good at asking her for everything up until now. What if she’s scared of me again? No, if she wants me to I’ll start at stage 1... Maybe Yamamoto was right, I really am a simp for her..

He thought, a small smile still on his face. He was okay with that. You were so strong out there. He only caught a few moments but watching you talk back all on your own was inspiring. You could defend yourself, any normal person would’ve let it go but Yui was a different breed that Kuroo knew too well. Watching you speak so boldly was a treasure that would live in his mind, the last domino of hearing your voice say “That’s not true.” to protext your feelings for him. But that was all he was able to catch of the conversation since he couldn’t stand there knowing that your hand wasn’t shaking from the cold.

Does she really have feelings for me? Is it true? If I would’ve asked.. would she have.. his thoughts stopped abruptly as he looked to his right at the infirmary where you stayed. What were you thinking right now? Were the thoughts you had as embarrassing as his? An image of you popped in his head, probably not. His chest was so tight and warm and the thought. He can’t think like this in the situation you’re in. He should’ve tried to stay in there longer, but maybe any longer and he would’ve burst.

He looked back at his arms, the ones he held you in. The water has dried now, ang trace that you were in them was gone. He really missed that feeling. If it were up to him right now, you’d never walk again so you could always stay in his arms.

Girlfriend..

He’d have to apologize later for overstepping his boundaries and explain later but... he’d never apologize about how it felt far too natural to say.

╰─────────────────────⋞╯

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+ to be added please send an ASK.

[newaroundheresworld]

Review of Rainbow Rowell’s the Runaways

I’ve always been a fan of the runaways, unfortunately, I wasn’t here for the latest run, I didn’t get to discuss each chapter as it came out, which honestly makes me sad, but, I still want to give my honest opinion on it for anyone who’d like to hear, so my fellow fans, please allow me to share my views.

Now overall, Rainbow’s run was a good series, I wouldn’t say it was perfect by any means, but I’d say it was a good sequel to the classic Runaways we all know and love, there was a lot of experimenting, a lot of new ideas, some I liked, some I didn’t, it had its good moments, and it’s bad, but overall, it was a fun ride.

Now I’m no professional when it comes to a book review, so I’m just gonna do this the best way I can, I’ll split it into three sections, the good, the bad, and the inbetween, where I’ll discuss what parts of the comic I liked and didn’t, seems like a good way to voice my opinions, and these are my opinions, my personal views, they are in no way facts, just how I feel, so please read, enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts.

Good

Art

I think most would agree that the artwork of the latest run was gorgeous, Anka did a superb job in creating beautiful scenes that really capture the eye, and while that’s not totally necessary for a good comic, pleasing images help capture the attention and make the story all the more entertaining.

Character development

What was fun about this run was seeing our favorite kids matured, seeing how they’ve grown from the classic runaways we all knew, and proper character development isn’t easy, there’s a slippery slope between developing a character and changing them, but personally I think Rainbow did an excellent job, the characters did mature, but most of the time they still felt like them, you could still see those same kids who escaped their parents all those years ago, just grown more.

Experimentation

Rainbow chose to experiment with a number of ideas in this run, some touched upon I’m earlier runs, others new and original, and while not all of them worked out, I admire that she went for it, rather than trying to bring back the old stories or create some rather plain ones, she took risks and tried to make new and exciting ones, sure not all of them went very far, but hey, some just don’t, but if you don’t try, you’ll never get anywhere.

United once more

Ok so technically I can’t credit Rainbow for this, but let’s be real, part of us were just happy to see the Runaways back together again, seeing them united feels good, feels like coming back to a piece of your past, and Rainbow’s work on their dynamic was quite good, interactions were enjoyable for the most part, and seeing them all together just feels right.

Bad

Time skip

Now as stated earlier, I am a fan of character growth, but not of time skips, because I don’t get to see the growth, now true in this instance the gap makes sense, everyone was separated and did personal growth, but it sucks we didn’t get to see that, see them maturing over that time, beyond that I’ve never been a fan of time skips because I feel like it gives writers an excuse to take more liberties with their work rather than showing the important steps for them to get from point A to point B, of course that’s just me, many people enjoy time skips, I just don’t.

Storylines

Now some of the storylines in this run were good, entertaining to read, but it felt like they kind of fizzled out, like each one could only go so far before reaching a rather unsatisfactory conclusion, they had potential but I do not feel that they personally reached it, the weakest I’d say was probably the J team arc, which felt much like a repeat of the old Runaways, even down to the basic lesson, don’t trust adults.

Character designs

Now the art in the latest run was beautiful and I did like the character designs, I just felt that they were weak in comparison to older designs, I got they were going for more maturity and growth and I do feel that they did a decent job of creating new looks that still reminded everyone of the originals, but they just felt like they didn’t measure up to the old looks, they weren’t quite as iconic or fitting in my views.

Cut short

This really wasn’t their fault, unfortunately the run did suffer because of it, due to the timing of everything, they suffered a very long gap and an unfortunate abrupt ending that left many doors open, and many people didn’t like this, now I’d say given what they were working with, the ending was fairly decent, but it’s clear it could have gone longer and had many more stories to tell, and that makes me sad.

In between

Trying to be normal

Now the Runaways have always had a particular flavor to them, they are a group of youths who find themselves in a very uncommon environment, fighting aliens, metahumans, gods, and everything else, finding out their parents secrets, discovering their own abilities, and while this sounds very otherworldly, at the same time they go through what most teens do, conflict, growth, self-discovery, all that, it’s the mix of down to earth and completely nuts that makes them who they are, yet I felt I’m this run, they bordered on trying it go too normal, mainly Karolina’s arc, even she herself seemed to feel this, and that sort of self-awareness is why I place this in between, not really bad because it fits the theme, but not the best example of it.

Relationships

Now this is where things get a bit complicated for me, now allow me to explain something, I do not like romance, I do not enjoy it, real or fictional, it holds no appeal to me, it’s rare I’ll even like a couple, usually I tolerate them, at worse try to ignore them, because I don’t connect with them, because I don’t have interest in romance, connecting to romance plots is not something I can or want to do, and because of this usually I tend to see the bad parts more than the good, this makes romance plotlines the most difficult for me in fiction, and the Runaways are no exception, I was never a fan of the Karolina/Xavin, Nico/Victor, Nico/Alex, Gert/Chase, or Karolina/Julie stories, nor was I a fan of the current romances of Nico/Karolina or Gert/Victor, it’s just not my thing, so you’re probably wondering why I rank it as an in between and not a negative, well, because I know it’s not my thing, but it is for most other people.

Now I’m not stupid enough to judge everything by my own personal tastes, I know most people enjoy romance, heck the world revolves around it, so romance plots are totally normal, and let me tell you, I really do not like the Runaways romance plots, because they tend to be extra emotional and rather overdramatic, but the thing is, that’s the point, one of the Runaways strengths is its ability to connect with teens, because that’s what they are, these are not adult superheroes fighting for noble ambitions out of a sense of responsibility, these are kids that got thrown into a world they weren’t ready for, kids who didn’t even have a chance to mature before they had to start fighting their own parents, learning how to use their abilities and items, and doing everything else that would drive a normal person mad, and through all of this, they’re still kids, they’re going through typical teen issues in a very untypical environment, even while they’re fighting all these threats, they still have to go through what every teen does, and the messy unfortunate area of romance is one of those, so while I can’t count it as a plus out of personal reasons, I also can’t count it as a negative because it goes along with what makes the Runaways the Runaways.

So that’s my review, again I want to remind everyone that I am not a professional and these are my opinions, not facts, I don’t wanna start anything, I just want to share my views and maybe open a discussion with others if they desire, if you read through it all then I thank you for your time and sincerely hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment if you desire, good day to you.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

So, this may sound weird, since I don't ship ZK, but I think the reason some dislike EIP is because they realize it was the first part of a busted enemies-to-lovers arc. EIP was part one, where Zuko and Katara see how others see them, and it weirds them out. Yet, Zuko insisted on sitting next to Katara and Katara pushes Aang away, suggesting there might be something there that they don't want to acknowledge. (1/3)

The first part of the finale was Part 2, where June reiterates the "Hey you're with your gf again!" Zuko and Katara deny it, but there likely should have been an undercurrent of 'Why do people think we're together? Do we act like it? Should we be? S/he is kind of cute.' During this time, Zuko defers to Katara and despite Toph likely being more helpful, asks Katara to be the one to take down Azula with him. (2/3)

Last part of the finale should have been the money shot, Zuko taking lightning for Katara, and in a parallel to CoD, Katara healing him. Dante Basco is right in that there probably should have been a kiss at that moment and the end scene of the gang at the Jasmine Dragon with Zuko and Katara shyly proclaiming their interest in each other. (3/4, sorry I have one more)

Again, ZK is not my ship, but EIP seemed to set up a ZK endgame that jumped the tracks at the end. By all the "rules" of a good narrative, Zuko and Katara should have ended up together, otherwise EIP should never have been countenanced or storyboarded. Full disclosure that I'm not a huge Kataang fan either, but Kataang was done a disservice by having EIP exist. It either should not have ever gotten written, or the ZK enemies-to-lovers arc should have been concluded. (end)

Disclaimer: I don’t care if someone ships Zvtara. Never have, never will. If the takeaway you (the general you, not anon specifically lol) get from this post is that Zvtara is “bad,” then I’m going to assume you didn’t actually read anything I wrote, because that is the farthest thing from my point here. Also, this post is strictly my personal response to these asks. I don’t expect everyone to read this and be like “YEAH” lmao. I am sure some people have different opinions, and that is a-okay!

In short, I think we will have to agree to disagree, anon.

Do some people consider EIP the beginning of a busted enemies-to-lovers arc? Of course they do, they’re “rabid zkers” who wear Zvtara shipping goggles 24/7 lmao. EIP couldn’t have been the beginning of an E-L arc because such an arc was never in the cards for them in the first place! Katara forgave Zuko in the previous episode. Trying to cram a romantic relationship into five episodes after months of hatred between Zuko and Katara would have been awful writing (and thus probably would have been a decision mercilessly criticized until the end of time, lmao). So it’s honestly better that Zvtara gets to spread its wings in fanon instead (much less pressure)! Also, realistically speaking, Katara and Zuko probably still had so many issues to work through in their friendship. Like yes, she forgave him and recognized he was trying to do better, but that doesn’t erase what Zuko has done to her and her friends. There is still plenty of forward progress they need to make before romance can even be considered between them. If that makes sense?

Also, let’s be real: EIP and bit with June afterwards were 100% ship bait. Just an attempt to add to the “drama” of who Katara would end up. A technique only effective while it was airing, for the record, because if you watch the show straight through, it becomes glaringly obvious that Zuko and Katara’s relationship - while gorgeous - was always meant to stay strictly platonic within the canon timeline.

Anyways. I’ll try to break down your ask one piece at a time!

“Zuko and Katara see how others see them, and it weirds them out”

Yes, they are definitely weirded out! The transcript says, “Zuko and Katara inch away from each other, slightly uncomfortable.” Which is just a longer way of describing that they were weirded out by the depiction of their relationship in EIP, lol. However, the play is not how others see them. The play is the Fire Nation’s imperialist propaganda, meant to demean the entire Gaang. I talk about in specifics how the entire Gaang is belittled here, but this is the key stuff I noted about Zuko and Katara:

it’s important to situate that and more importantly situate eip zuko and katara’s relationship within the context of the show. the fire nation is an imperialist country. the southern water tribe has suffered heavily beneath them. we know from “the headband” that fire nation individuals are fed pro-imperialistic propaganda from birth; that combined with zuko and azula’s degrading comment of “peasant” towards katara demonstrate very clearly how the fire nation views every other nation - put simply, they are superior and everyone else is inferior. that attitude is therefore reflected in the eip play:

- katara, an indigenous woman, is highly sexualized and portrayed as overly dramatic and tearful, because the fire nation objectifies women not of their own people and views them as less intelligent and less emotionally stable

- she is thus paired as having a “romance” with zuko in eip because naturally, via fire nation logic, zuko would be able to “score” an “easy” woman of one of the water tribes

- furthermore, the eip “romance” between zuko and katara emphasizes zuko’s position as a traitor to the fire nation; the implication is that as a traitor, he’d only be able to achieve a relationship with a “lesser” woman, e.g. a woman not of the fire nation

That is not how other people truly view Zuko and Katara’s relationship. That is how the Fire Nation depicts their relationship in order to degrade and dehumanize Zuko and Katara. To misinterpret that as “evidence” that Zuko and Katara should have been together romantically is… disturbing, in my opinion. (I really try to stay far away from zkers who use EIP as “proof” of supposed Zvtara interest in each other like honey that is imperialist propaganda please don’t 😭).

If you want to talk about how other people actually view Zuko and Katara’s relationship, look at the Gaang, who were around them most of all! They never tease the possibility of romance between their friends. Why? Because within canon, there wasn’t one. Simple!

“Zuko insisted on sitting next to Katara”

Nope! This is all the transcript says: “Zuko [Removing his hood.] Just sit next to me. What’s the big deal?” He doesn’t even mention Katara! Zuko is literally just like I’m already sitting. Why do I need to move? lmfao. It’s no thoughts head empty for our favorite firebender 😂

“Katara pushes Aang away”

I’m assuming this about the kiss, which I’m going to make a post about in the future because I am TIRED of the tomfoolery. Anyways, I’ll keep this brief - yes, she does push him away. She does not deny that she likes him. For Katara, the issue is the timing: “This isn’t the right time.” Both Katara and Aang know they like each other, plain and simple (which is why Aang doesn’t ask if he returns her feelings - he asks if they’d be together, because he knows their feelings are mutual). Katara pushes Aang away because, as she says, they’re in the middle of a war. She’s already seen Aang die once. He might die again. She doesn’t want that, of course, but it’s a reality Katara is forced to consider.

Anyways, her decision has nothing to do with Zuko. Lol.

“June reiterates the ‘Hey you’re with your gf again!’ Zuko and Katara deny it, but there likely should have been an undercurrent of ‘Why do people think we're together? Do we act like it? Should we be? S/he is kind of cute.’”

June’s assumption - especially because it is a repeat of a gag from earlier in the series, when it is incredibly concerning to assume a Fire Nation citizen would be with someone of the Water Tribes because of the war and its consequences - is comic relief. Not even good comic relief, lmao, because of the horrific implications I just mentioned that come with it, but it’s supposed to be comedy. There was no need of any “Zvtara” undercurrents there because a) Katara and Zuko had never expressed romantic interest in each other in the past, b) it wouldn’t track with the show’s narrative of Katara as Zuko’s surrogate sibling because of her position as Azula’s primary foil, and c) it just doesn’t make sense in general. Katara likes Aang. Zuko likes Mai. There was never a love triangle there, plain and simple. Fandom invented it.

And again, if you want to talk about how people actually see Zuko and Katara, don’t look at June, who has never had a proper conversation with either of them. As I said, the Gaang is a much better example, since they’re with the two 24/7. If they never tease Zuko and Katara about romance, why should we trust this random lady who doesn’t even know them?

“During this time, Zuko defers to Katara and despite Toph likely being more helpful, asks Katara to be the one to take down Azula with him.”

As I mentioned, Katara is Azula’s primary foil, so from a literary perspective she absolutely needed to be the one to take her down. Zuko needed to face Azula, but taking her down - again, from a literary pov - was always meant to be the end of Katara’s journey (she was the only person besides Aang who was ever a match for Azula, after all, as we see in CoD). Also, how would Toph be more helpful?? Not saying you’re wrong, btw, I just don’t understand what you mean. If I was Zuko, I also would have brought the waterbender that I’d already witnessed almost take down my sister already 😂. But even if Toph would have been more helpful, sometimes practicality must be sacrificed for a fulfilling narrative arc, lol!

“Last part of the finale should have been the money shot, Zuko taking lightning for Katara, and in a parallel to CoD, Katara healing him.”

Honestly, anon, this part of your ask baffles me 😂 I totally understand why rabid zkers might make this argument, but taking into account the rest of the show… It just doesn’t make sense? It’s been talked about a hundred times, but Zuko taking lightning out of romantic interest would ruin his redemption arc, regardless of if it was Katara or Aang or Sokka or anyone in the Gaang that he was taking it for, so that should be the end of discussion, full stop. I’ve talked about this issue here and here before, and someone else does a great job breaking it down in this post, too. But seriously. Zuko having romantic interest for anyone in the Gaang would ruin!! His!! Entire!! Arc!! I hate when people don’t understand that 😭 Zuko had to learn selflessness, to learn how to put others before himself, and to unlearn the imperialist rhetoric he’d been indoctrinated with from birth. Romantic interest during canon for Katara, Sokka, Aang, whomever, I don’t care, completely disregards all of his growth of breaking away from the Fire Nation. Plain and simple.

“Dante Basco is right in that there probably should have been a kiss at that moment and the end scene of the gang at the Jasmine Dragon with Zuko and Katara shyly proclaiming their interest in each other.”

I learned in a discord I’m in that Dante Basco apparently hadn’t seen the whole show until this year lmao. He didn’t know what energybending was nor did he know A:TLA ended with a Kataang kiss. Take that with a grain of salt, of course (you can watch the livestream this is revealed in here, and it was also mentioned in the recent StageIt A:TLA reunion), but I think it’s safe to conclude Dante Basco can be treated like any other Zvtara shipper. He likes the ship, which is totally cool, but he is not one of the writers, so his opinion meant naught in constructing the canon narrative.

ANYWAYS. My point is why would Zuko and Katara proclaim interest in each other if such interest would have to be crammed into five measly episodes?? Especially when four of those episodes were the finale?? That is awful writing, of course the A:TLA writers wouldn’t do that, lmao! They’d built up Kataang and Maiko already. Why scrap it and needlessly rush a romance from an excellent - and, important to note, a newly established - platonic bond? Nah.

“EIP seemed to set up a ZK endgame that jumped the tracks at the end. By all the ‘rules’ of a good narrative, Zuko and Katara should have ended up together”

Nope. Idk what rules people have been teaching you, anon, but they were lying!! You deserve better than people who would lie to you like that 😤. But yeah, narratively speaking, Katara and Zuko getting together would have made no sense. It would have undermined Zuko’s and Katara’s arcs, it would have completely disregarded Katara’s established feelings for Aang and Zuko’s for Mai, and again, it would have been totally rushed. Who wants that?? Normal people don’t, lmao. This might be hard to believe considering I occasionally rag about BNF zkers, but I actually have several friends who are Zvtara shippers! They agree that canon Zvtara would have made no sense, and that it’s better to play out a potential Zvtara dynamic in post-A:TLA fanon. I swear, it is only the rabid shippers who think Zvtara should have been canon, and trust me when I say no one should want to associate with them, lmao.

(And again, as I touched upon earlier, Zuko and Katara’s canon narrative relationship was surrogate siblings because of Katara’s position as Azula’s primary foil. The show wrapped their arc up perfectly! With a lovely bow and all. So no complaints from me!)

“otherwise EIP should never have been countenanced or storyboarded. Full disclosure that I’m not a huge Kataang fan either, but Kataang was done a disservice by having EIP exist”

What EIP did right:

- accurate (and horrifying) depiction of pro-imperialist propaganda

- recap of previous seasons

- a lesson on consent (Aang kisses Katara, it is depicted as wrong, and Aang reacts appropriately by admonishing himself and by giving Katara space afterwards. like, people call Aang an incel/entitled/whatever, BUT HE HAD THE PERFECT REACTION?? he literally backed off and never pressured her again. i would have killed for the guy who kept getting in my personal space during my junior year to have backed off when i told him to. spoiler alert: he didn’t)

- hit some good humor beats

What EIP did poorly:

- honestly it’s not very interesting just based on watching it (deconstructing it as propaganda gives it better depth), but that’s to be expected from filler

- stupid shipping drama

- not having an additional conversation/explicit apology between Aang and Katara

HOWEVER. This final point is actually very subjective. For one, A:TLA has a clear trend of not showing apologies on screen. Ex.: Katara doesn’t apologize to Sokka for what she said about their mother, Zuko doesn’t apologize for anything he did to the Gaang, Song, or really anyone (closest we get is “Hello, Zuko here” lmao), Ty Lee and Mai don’t apologize for putting the Kyoshi warriors in jail, etc. etc. So while an explicit apology would have been great, the lack of one admittedly tracks with the show’s pre-established standards. And two, while I of course would love a conversation between Aang and Katara (that’s literally MORE KATAANG. why would I refuse 😂), it isn’t… necessary, to be frank. Aang’s mistake is treated as such - kissing Katara was wrong and he should never have done that. Like I said, Aang acknowledges this error and gives Katara space afterwards. Thus, it is Katara who chooses to be with him when the war is over. She respects the time he gave her to come to a conclusion, and the choice she makes is that she loves him despite his poorly-timed kiss (I mean, she forgave Zuko for being complicit in Aang’s death. Katara is clearly a very forgiving person!). So like,, it gets to a point where if someone doesn’t recognize that, they’re probably the kind of weirdo who labels anything they don’t understand in a story as a plothole, lmao.

All of this is to say that EIP wasn’t a disservice to Kataang. It certainly could have been better, of course, and the kiss was obviously only put in to hype up drama (“will they, won’t they” blah blah blah), but overall it handled consent well for a kid’s show.

“It either should not have ever gotten written, or the ZK enemies-to-lovers arc should have been concluded.”

On the whole, EIP is absolutely an unnecessary episode, yeah. It was just a recap before the finale. The only important thing is its accurate depiction of pro-imperialist propaganda, but most people’s minds don’t immediately go to that, I’ll admit lmao 😂. And as I’ve already said, there was no Zvtara E-L arc - fandom completely made that up. Which is totally fine! That’s the point of transformative works. But they are still fanon. Plain and simple.

TL;DR - Zvtara was never in the cards for A:TLA. I wish rabid zkers would stop pretending it was and have fun in the sandbox like the rest of us 😭

And for the record, anon, you absolutely, 100% do not have to be convinced by any of this! It’s just my own, personal thoughts on the whole dealio. No worries either way!! 💛

[evakuality]

Hanna, episode 9

1.  Hanna is such a sweet character.  Occasionally it’s easy to forget that, but even in the face of her own hurt and justifiable anger at Matteo and what he’s done, as soon as she realises he’s going through some shit, she not only doesn’t pursue her anger but asks Jonas to hug him for her and give him best wishes.  Honestly, I love her so so so much.  I don’t actually much recall the way this scene goes in Eva’s season, but Eva always felt tougher (? I think that’s what I mean?) somehow.  I mean, I know Hanna doesn’t let it lie forever (good for her!) but she has so much compassion in this particular moment.

2.  I adore that Hanna is wearing this ‘stronger together; shirt when she’s talking with Jule.  This is always such a great moment - the girls realising that actually they need to stop tearing each other up and actually place blame where it needs to go.  This scene with Jule is also much nicer/better than the previous one.  I really do think that’s because the stuff with Leonie was SO emotional that the Jule thing had no time to breathe.  But here it’s a) much longer and b) is given the space it deserves, and Hanna is being so proactive in such a positive way.  Love this for her.  Also, look at this gorgeous yellow surrounding this scene.  It’s so warm and calm and it calls back to those soft colours of the early season, but it’s so much stronger and brighter.  I like that we’re kind of getting a return to Hanna’s true self (if that’s even a thing) but it’s not so washed out and pale.  My girl is getting stronger.

3.  Hanna and Jonas.  Awkwaaarrrrddddd.  But also this hallway/stairway they meet in is so cool.  I love how many different textures this place has.  Also, it’s a bit.... hmmmm.  I don’t know, it feel so artificial the way they are giving us this information about Matteo’s family.  It could arguably have come out (the stuff about his mother anyway) more organically earlier in the season.  It’s good to know, but the execution isn’t the best.  I do like the bit with Sam and Jonas.  I mean, not ‘like’ as in approve, but like as in I like the way it’s executed.  This is so real for this age, and it really felt like it could be genuine.  I also really really like how Hanna’s immediate reaction is to try to settle Jonas, to give him the same attention she used to, and how natural that also feels.  But of course, he’s still in pain and so it doesn’t work.  But it does show just how well connected they were - and lends weight to what Hanna was saying about how she has genuine feelings for Jonas.  It wasn’t just about stealing a boyfriend.  I really do like the way these clips bleed into each other, bits from one informing what comes into another.

4.  I do like these little girl squad moments.  And while Kiki really does get on my nerves, it’s nice that they are all thinking about and concerned about her.  It’s nice when they support each other.  Still.  She still really hasn’t grown up, and is still chasing that whole popularity thing at any cost.  She’s at risk of losing genuine friends, and of seriously damaging her health.  But we know that, and it sucks what’s going to be coming for her.  

5.  Ahh, the karaoke is so much fun!!  I really really do love this whole bit.  It reminds me of ho0w much fun we used to have doing it.  Though I was never good enough at singing or confident (or drunk!) enough to do it by myself, so full kudos to everyone here who did it.

6.  The thing with Matteo is also super well done.  The acting here, from both of them, is really great.  Her voice changes when she asks if he’s better and when she says he’s trustworthy you can see on his face that he knows that she’s caught him before she even has to say anything.  This is always a moment I like in these scenes - when the Isak character is so close to the verge of admitting that he likes the Jonas character, and the Eva character goes in an entirely wrong direction.  And it is really well done here.  His little face when he realises she hasn’t got it, and the absolute irritation in her voice when she says that’s no reason to be doing all this fucked up shit.  I’ve seen people saying they don’t like the way Matteo is acted in this season, but it’s very much consistent with how he develops later, particularly given the changes in his life situation rn.  It’s a lot in the face and the body language, and I guess again because Matteo is subtly different to Isak you might see that as ‘bad’ but I really like it.  I like that they’re two different characters who happen to go through a similar life path (and I did go over that at length in this series of posts starting here).  The acting really has been great this season imo.  Even when it was finding its feet early on, Hanna always resonated and rang true and it’s still true here.  And the really nice thing is, you can see here that they are and have been good friends.  So when she tells him she misses him in s3, you can believe it.  You can see it here, how upsetting this is for her.  

7.  I’d forgotten just how much is in this clip.  It’s roughly half of the entire episode!  And oh.  Kiki.  Again, I think the acting is so superb, from all of them.  But Lea infuses so much into Kiki, that as irritating and hard headed and just plain horrible as she can be sometimes, you can’t help but feel so much for her.  This moment is awful.  You can feel how lost and unhappy she is, and while the other characters are bemused (Amira’s face when she grabs the mic is amazing), I can’t help but feel so sad for her.  I also find the way Druck moves PoVs occasionally to be a strange choice.  But it does allow us to get this little insight into Mia before we’re with her fulltime (and ick.  Alex needs to learn boundaries and back off - how does he even have her number?  Do we find that out?  I don’t remember).  

8.  The whole thing with Hanna and Jonas is so painful, from the wistful looks between the two of them, to the scene together and how that all plays out, and I really like that the way it’s shot is so awkward and just a bit ‘off.  The fact that Jonas is singing a Matteo song (to Matteo, no less), and then ends up singing it to Hanna.   Then they’re not properly framed in the shot at the end, and it almost feels designed to make it uncomfortable.  They clearly have a great connection, but at the same time nothing has been talked about and so everything is just subtly ‘wrong’ and that’s why this whole bit works for me.  It’s all off, kind of difficult to parse, and leaves the episode in this place where things are not really right.  They’re not right with Mia and Kiki and they’re certainly not right with Hanna and Jonas.  

This is such a difficult episode in so many ways.  You can see why it’s called ‘crashes’ - so many things are crashing down for so many people.  So much is packed into this last clip too, that it must have been really intense when it aired.  And so we’re close to the end - one to go.  Which is a bit sad because I really really am going to miss this revisit of Hanna.  I’d forgotten just how much I love her because it’s been far too long since I watched her.

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Chapter 13

Wooo! It has been a while dearies. Let's see, my baby sister's husband, so my brother in law got diagnosed with Lupis which at this point is a relief that it's not his cancer coming back so there's that. My parents rushed down to AZ to be with my dying grandparents and are trying to let them pass from the comfort of their home without having to go into a nursing home, hospice called us and said 'you should come down and say goodbye while they still know who you are' so we all rushed down to do just that and I just came back from a week down there doing that which was emotionally draining and devastating. My other sister's dog tore a ligament and needs a 5k surgery to fix it. This particular sister has no kids and her dogs are her kids, which is perfectly reasonable and valid. And my Chron's Disease is flaring and trying to kill me for the...I've lost count of how many times it's tried to kill me for the 25 years I've had it, (I'm 35, just to put that into perspective) and I have an emergency colonoscopy on the 6th that I need to prepare for.

So sorry for the delay on updating this story, I've been meaning to update this for A VERY LONG TIME and mentally I knew exactly how I wanted to write it, I just had no time, energy, drive or opportunity to write UNTIL TODAY. So you are getting this hot off the presses and I want to pick up and GO GO GO before my life completely falls apart.

Again so many thanks to @kriskukko for letting me use her still gorgeous, still amazing, still epic REGENCY ERA ORC ART. Just...still in love with it.

Thanks to @punkhorse96 for all your amazing feedback. Now, we get into THE DANGER ZONE. Much plot, so sex, big TORN. Enjoy. *evilly cackles*

Blood For Gold

Chapter 13

Your family completely monopolated your time the moment they came and wouldn’t let you out of their sight and you couldn’t get a moment’s peace or solace, except when it came time for the masquerade ball at the Midnight Peacock, then everyone seemed to disappear and leave you alone to change and you couldn’t hardly wait for tonight, Axal told you that The Red Velvet Rope was hosting this particular masquerade ball so all of the brothel’s workers would be there along with almost all the other moura individuals in all of London would be there tonight.

It was going to be your first time going and you had brought out your new masquerade dress that you had made in your “widowhood” because while you recovered from your mourkatilli addiction, and healed from the other trauma and abuse, you needed a project to keep you occupied.

It was a special one, it was reversible with a twist. It was really four outfits in one. A skirt with two different layers, and each layer was reversible and a top that was sewn and embroidered in such a way that it was four tops in one, each one to also coincide with one of the layers of the skirt. So if you wore it “normally” and “inside out” and “right side in” on each layer, you would have four unique outfits and you had embroidered all four layers in two of the styles of tops, when not being worn on the outside would roll up and give you something of a push up bra, so that it would appear in such a way that it would look like one scene one way and in the reverse, a completely different one but still in the same shapes in an elevated double embroidered piece. It was some of your best work to date. And you had a fabric mask pinned into each skirt so that the masks you wore changed with it, and you wore your hair in such a way that it could change, from up, to half up and half down to fully down and in a variety of ways and Axal had told you that Ramsey had confided in him that the place had “changing” rooms where you could change your outfit as needed, in case you needed to change yourself throughout the night. So you left the Palace of Windsor in one of your more “flashy” and luxurious facets, complete with a cape that was also reversible with your family.

Once at the place you immediately left your family and “changed” into the most simple and understated of the four, a black embroidered top and simple black skirt with no embroidery, it was simple yet elegant and began looking for Demsey Draft, because you needed to warn him about the other mouras that had come as well break off any connection with him so that you couldn’t be implicated later because the last thing you wanted was for Duke Demsey Voyambi to know that you had ever set foot in a whorehouse. You wanted him to feel and know that if the attraction you had to him was returned by him, that you would be loyal to him and he would have your complete fidelity and you would leave Mr. Demsey Draft where you found him, in your hopefully long forgotton past. A woman was allowed to go a little wild in her mourning right?

Meanwhile Demsey had done the same, only he didn’t have any reversible outfits, instead he went straight to the “coat room” and “rented” a change of clothes, he had to find Audra Draft and break things off with her, and solely pursue Sultana Audravienne.

And like clock work, only moments after going around the place, looking for Mr. Draft, when you found your prize, coming out of the changing room, dressed how you thought he’d be, simple, rather plain but dignified.

“Mr. Demsey Draft?” You asked once you found him.

“Miss Audra Draft,” He smiled in relief that he found her, or rather, that she had found him although why she insisted on calling his last name of Draft, maybe she was trying to give him a pseudonym to protect his real identity as you were thinking the exact same thing, although tonight would be the last time you would ever answer to such a name as your moura marks lit up like fireworks again, practically glowing and pulsing through your clothes and on your skin as Demsey flushed with desire because that was going to be one of the many things he was going to miss about Miss Draft.

“Might we have a word?” You asked, even though your heart was screaming for one last release with him before you cut things off with him completely.

“Yes, by all means.” He agreed as you took his hand and led him away to a private booth in the little restaurant side of the place as most had gathered in the dance hall and were already beginning to dance the night away.

“Before anything else, I must tell you that after tonight I must break all contact with you, you see, I’m going to be pursuing a very wonderful woman, and I can not do so with any prior attachments or engagements, she is the kind of woman who deserves whole hearted and whole souled devotion.” He began as your heart was relieved and happy for him but broke at the news as your moura marks stopped pulsing and flashing, instead, simply faded to a rose gold then stopped which broke Demsey’s heart to see as he recalled how the Sultana's marks flashed rose gold when she was upset or sad. It still must have been a universal moura thing, he supposed.

“Well isn’t that a coincidence, I came to find you to tell you something similar. I also found someone, a wonderful man actually, who I wish to pursue whole heartedly and without reserve.” You replied.

“So...The Red Velvet Rope is no longer…” Demsey began.

“Part of my life? No. Never, you?” You asked.

“Same, I will never set foot into it again.” He professed.

“Probably for the best. So, I know you wish to probably keep certain things private, and I don’t expect you to tell me who it is that has captured your attentions and affections, and whoever she is, I can only hope and pray that she is worthy of them.” You offered, feeling much more than a pang in your heart, much more than you were expecting anyway, the whole day you had prepared yourself for this moment, rehearsing what it was that you wanted to say to him. He was, after all, just a manwhore in a whorehouse, you shouldn’t have any real emotional connection with him and it should be easy to walk away, but now that it was happening, your heart, soul and body screamed for the reverse. It felt like it had been too long since you got to hold him in your arms, kiss his sweet mouth and marvel at the way his body seemed to always meld and mold to yours and bring you the sweetest of releases.

“Thank you, and likewise.” Demsey graciously offered.

“Out of curiosity, you don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to, but the woman you are going to be pursuing, is she an orc like you?” You asked curiously.

“No, she’s actually, um,” Demsey began before he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“She’s moura.” Demsey confessed.

“Oh, well in that case...I know...or rather, I have heard.” You rephrased, not wanting to tell on yourself too much as Demsey smiled sadly at you as you cast your gaze away from him guiltily as you felt tears prick your eyes as a strange panic seemed to grip your chest.

“I have heard that there are many mouras here, and new ones have come into England fairly recently. Please beware, there are some mouras who are not “typical” and perfectly lovely and good people and others who are actually true to the typical type cast. Surely you have heard the saying that “a moura’s beauty is always outmatched by their greed for wealth and power.” There are some who prove that saying false, and some who prove it true. Please beware of the latter and make sure that the woman who has caught your eye is the former, for only ruination follows the latter’s footsteps.” You tried to gently warn him, fearful he had seen Benny and fallen in love with her like any other orc male had.

“I will, and if you will do me the same honor. Would you tell me what kind of man has caught your attentions and affections?” Demsey asked, even though part of him didn’t want to know and part of him was wishing it was a proper moura, so she would be with her own kind who would understand and sympathize with her and treat her the way she deserved, which was an invaluable treasure, whether she was "tainted" or not.

“He’s an orc. Although I do not know if he leans more towards the old orcish ways and culture or if he will hold true to the English ones although I guess there are some things that are similar in both cultures. I am at a loss as to how to pursue him and what will reach him and prove that myself and my own intentions are true, and how to prove to him that I’m one of the atypical moura’s unless he has already judged me to be typical then I am at a loss for I know at least one member of his family already has but I’m hoping he does not share their views. Because first impressions are usually the most firmly set and hardest to prove otherwise, no matter the word or deed.” You confessed and Demsey felt his rage begin to flare, the moura before him was clearly not the power hungry type. Anyone with half a wit could discern that about her, much less see it with their own eyes.

“Is he….is he a commoner or is he gentry?” Demsey asked, feeling actual panic whirling in his chest, he knew his brother had gone to The Red Velvet Rope and if Sierge had found her, he could be charming and could talk his way into any woman’s knickers if he really tried but Sierge would no sooner bed her before he shamed her for doing so. Sierge was his brother but Sierge was also a rake and downright dangerous to any woman’s honor.

“He is in the gentry. That’s why it gives me pause, so far he has been a dream, a perfect gentleman and he comes from a good family and noble business. There is nothing about him that gives me hesitation except that I do not know if he shares the attraction. He may just be very polite and friendly and I’m reading too far into his gestures or he may already share his opposing family’s views of what a moura can typically be. But...he’s worth pursuing if he does share the attraction, I was hoping I would find him tonight and I could feel him out for it, if not, there are others that are pursuing me. And...I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, or if...if I should just forget all of it and be better off alone.” You confessed as your own panic settled in that you would never see the man across from you in this tiny little booth, barely big enough for two, ever again. It was like you were magnetically drawn to him and you were helpless to fight against it in his company.

“But in any case, I will miss you, and I will remember our brief moments together with fondness.” You offered as you fought the tears in your eyes as your gold moura marks faded to a dull brass color, Demsey had never seen anything like it before, it gave him the most worry, since he had almost become accustomed to reading the Sultana’s marks like her facial expressions.

“You are too good.” Was all Demsey could say, his own heart breaking that he was going to lose, forever, the one other woman he felt any real connection to.

“So are you. Whoever she is, if she ever gets to bed you, she’s in for a treat.” You tried to tease with a grin but the bittersweetness in your eyes cut him to the core.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, may life treat you well and may the woman who captured your attention be worthy and return it and show you the same loyalty and respect you will surely show her.” You offered as you did your best to get out of the small booth to get away before you cried your eyes out right there at the table as you damned yourself for being unduly attached to a manwhore in a whorehouse rather than Duke Demsey Voyambi who you were sure was probably a much better man but still, your heart already ached at Demsey Draft’s absence.

He seemed to take your cue and got out of the booth as well as you curtsied in place as he bowed respectfully before you turned on your heel and tried to get away.

But you had barely taken two steps before Demsey quickly took three steps to catch your arm in his hand which caused you to stop and turn and turn right into his other hand that framed your face and brought it to his own as he gave the hottest, most soul scorching kiss of your life and you’d be lying through your teeth if you tried to say that you protested. Your body betrayed you as you kissed him back and glued yourself to him as your marks revived and started to pulse and flash again.

“One last time?” Desmey pleaded when you broke for air.

“One last time.” You readily agreed before you grabbed his hand again, saw along a far wall a room with the words “pairs dressing room” above the doorway and quickly ran with Demsey following you, his hand tightly grasping yours, weaving through the crowd and pushed a five pound note into the abbess’s hand and took the last available “pair’s changing booth” which was really just sex booth with a bench in it as you pushed Demsey to sit down as you readily straddled his lap as he undid his pants as you hiked up your skirts and stripped out of your Dorierran panties and seated yourself onto him and began to ride him in earnest as he partially undressed you, undoing your top and tossing it aside, still marveling at your moura moura marks as they pulsed and glittered even in the low light as your eyes practically glowed gold as well in the lower light of the darkened closet since there was only a lone candle burning in the corner as his hands went under your skirts and grabbed good handfuls of your arse and helped move your pelvis over himself so that your ground down deliciously before reattaching his mouth to yours and kissed you for all he was worth, pouring every ounce of his heart and soul into it before leaving hot, lisentious kisses on your neck and chest, capturing those oh so precious pulse points as you undid his collar so you could feast on his own neck and chest and once it was revealed you bit down his neck as he growled dangerously and hissed in pleasure and moaned when you soothed your mark with your tongue before inflicting a second, a third, and fourth and losing count after that as your mouth then moved to his collar bone and his very sensitive nipples, which he did appreciate your attention to as he did the same to you, because for this brief moment, you were his, for the last time, he was going to leave evidence that you were his, for this all too brief, but glorious moment, that nothing else mattered but your pleasure and once you shuddered and keened as your legs shook from the first orgasm as your moura marks lit up the room and glowed like soft sunshine as the orgasm seemed to flood your senses, he was picking you up and pinning you against the wall and driving up into you almost mercilessly but you loved every bit of it as you clung to him.

“Please Demsey, my dearest, darling Demsey, please, cum in me, fill me.” You pleaded desperately into his ear as you were near tears from how amazing and spectacular this was.

“Not yet.” Demsey cooed in your ear.

“Demsey please.” You begged as you felt another orgasm approaching and he still would not stop and that one nearly made you black out from pure ecstacy as the room lit up even brighter because that orgasm was bigger and more intense than the last and then he set your practically limp body down on the bench and went to his knees and replaced his cock with his mouth onto your already overly sensitive sex and ate you out like it was his first real meal after months of fasting as he settled your legs over his shoulders as the light that continued to pulse and glitter on your moura marks on your thighs and legs and lower belly provided all the light he needed as you laid back onto the bench as your pelvis rested in his hands as he moved you how he wanted you and you were powerless to stop him as a third orgasm bloomed in your body and lit up the room like a fire had started inside it as you did your best to hold onto your very soul so that it would not leave your body completely as you cried out in almost painfully blissful ecstasy as your hands gripped the edge of the bench pitifully, your knuckles going white, not caring in the least who could hear you and that’s when he finally relented and had you sit in his lap on the floor, with your bare chests touching and caressing the other and there was so much love and tenderness in his desperation to fuck you senseless as he held you fast to him and drove up into you and upon the fourth orgasm, the biggest and brightest of them all, did he finally relent and fill you so full it overflowed and you spent the longest moment just clinging to each other, neither of you wanting to let go of the other as you both basked in the ever so intense afterglow as the light from your moura marks slowly faded to nothing as once was desperation, was replaced with tenderness, softness and sweetness was you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the waves and subtle curls in his thick, luscious locks as your fingertips scratched ever so deliciously on his scalp as he scratched your back in turn, savoring every precious second of having you in his arms, trying to commit every detail to memory, not wanting anything to go missing when he would want to recall this later. Whether it would torture him or bring him fondness or joy, only time would tell.

Soon though, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“You two alive in there?” Came the abbess’ call.

“Yes, we’re almost done. Just a moment please.” You answered back as you reached around him and adjusted your mask back into place since it had become slightly askew so that he would not discover your true identity as he seemed to do the same before you reluctantly untangled from each other and helped get each other get redressed and recomposed.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, it was always a pleasure.” You offered as you took his hands and kissed his knuckles tenderly before you left the small room and quickly weaved your way through the crowd to the other end of the Midnight Peacock to get changed into another side of your outfit, this time, one of the lighter, more luxurious ones as you took a vial of perfume that was in your necklace and put some around your neck and chest to cover up any “evidence” of Mr. Draft’s presence on your body even though you had taken a moment to savor the scent of it one last time as Demsey seemed to do the same, changing out of his “rented” second outfit and back into his original one that he came in wearing and didn’t care to notice how the outfit seemed to be given to another orc who had come in, this one, more bluish in color who quickly changed into it to enjoy the party himself once Demsey had traded it in for his old clothes at the counter.

“Is there a bar here?” He asked the person overseeing the single dressing rooms once he came out redressed in his original outfit.

“Yes, it’s right through there, you can’t miss it.” She answered as he followed her direction to find a young lady, dressed is discrete luxury already sitting at the bar, drinking absinthe.

“Sultana Audravienne?” Demsey took a chance and asked which perked you up as you turned to see him.

“Duke Voyambi, I thought you would be dancing.” You offered, even though, your legs were still jelly from Mr. Draft’s endeavors.

“Usually, yes, but um, tonight, I’m not...I’m not really inclined to dance.” Demsey confessed because he was worn out but also he just let the greatest lover of his life so far slip through his fingers and he was in no mood to dance.

“I’ll be honest, neither am I, would you like to join me?” You offered.

“Yes, I’d love to.” He readily agreed.

“Well it seems since we both seemed to guess who the other is, there is little point of these then is there?” You asked as you pointed to the second mask you had pinned into the top you were currently sporting.

“No there isn’t.” Demsey readily agreed as both of you took off the masks and set them neatly on the bar as he got up onto the barstool next to you as you had already taken your hair down, letting your thick braid lay down your back.

“Absinthe?” He guessed, looking at the glass you were drinking from and recognizing the green liquid that filled it.

“Yes,” You readily confirmed.

“May I have one?” He asked the bartender who nodded and poured him a small glass of it, letting it pour over a cube of sugar and offered it up to him.

“Is this your first time drinking it?” You asked him.

“Is that obvious?” He asked as he took a few tentative sips.

“Absithe is the only “dangerous” drink they have here.” You answered.

“What would you prefer to be drinking right now then?” Demsey asked.

“Cyanide.” You answered without hesitation before he practically choked on his drink.

“Cyanide?” He repeated as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Mouras are immune to poison, remember? Cyanide is to me what wine or whiskey is to you.” You explained.

“But absinthe is still just a little poisonous right?” He asked.

“So is tobacco, but yet that doesn’t stop anyone from smoking it.” You shrugged as you looked out over the already cloudy room, filled with smoke from other patrons practically smoking up like chimney’s.

“Touche.” He had to chuckle.

“Do you like tobacco?” He asked.

“No, although hashish is popular back in the stables, if the sultanate states were still open, alcohol is illegal but hashish which is like tobacco but not quite since it comes from a different plant- is perfectly fine. But both can be hard on your lungs and mouras can be very sensitive to both, but here in England, it just depends on what’s fashionable at the time.” You reasoned as Demsey seemed to nod along with that sentiment as he took a longer sip of his drink.

“True.” Demsey agreed.

“So how are you liking it now?” You asked as you nodded to the drink.

“It’s growing on me.” He admitted.

“Yeah it does. Anything sweet usually does.” You grinned before you heard a cheering boom behind which inclined you to turn around to see what was going on to see Ramsey and Axal flamenco dancing with each other, their feet stomping very fast and rhythmically on the wood floors as Axal was wearing his matador masquerade outfit, it’s bright pink color and bejeweled state catching everyone’s eye but not to be outdone by Ramsey’s equally impressive baby blue one as well as Yalin and especially was cheering her son on while your mother and other members of your family were around cheering Axal on as well as you just shook your head, two peacocks flaunting their feathers at each other as Demsey looked on and just shook his head as well, having already exerted his own herculean amount of energy and spent it on Ms. Draft, wherever she would find herself now, although a quick scan of the crowd, he couldn't see anyone that looked even remotely like her. But he was with who he really should be spending his time with and now that he was with her, it was a different kind of comfort and happiness, but it was sadly tainted by guilt and strangely disappointment that didn’t make a bit of sense. Wasn’t this exactly what he was hoping for? To be with Audra, the real, authentic Audra, somewhat privately and all to himself? Then why, when he looked at her, he kept seeing glimpses of Miss Draft and why was he wishing that he was actually sharing this drink with her? What had happened in that room to change his mind? This morning he had been so sure that Sultana Audravienne was the one for him but something in Miss Draft had him hesitating and it didn’t make any sense at all.

But the way you were looking at Axal and Ramsey, caught his attention, you were...disappointed, or disinterested and clearly unimpressed as you just shook your head and turned back around and finished off your absinthe and got a menu as Demsey asked for one as well before you went ahead and shared yours with him.

“So what sounds good?” You asked him as you looked it over, already picking a few things out in your mind.

“Uh the lamb kebabs sound most appetizing.” Demsey answered before you grinned. It was a Medetteranian dish and right up your alley.

“The lamb kebabs it is then, the portions should be good size too, let’s share.” You suggested.

“Absolutely, I’ll defer to you, order whatever sounds best to you.” Demsey offered which got you to beam happily before the bartender came back and got your order as you went ahead and ordered everything that sounded good to share with Demsey and before you knew it you had taken up a good portion of the bar and had begun sharing a surprisingly good and wonderful meal together.

But what surprised you was how Demsey was correctly eating each dish.

“What?” Demsey asked as you paused in eating to watch him eat.

“It’s just, you’re the first Englishman who has known the right way to eat this. Most have no idea you’re supposed to use the bread instead of a knife and fork.” You explained as you copied his movements, using the bread to dip into the different sauces, scoop up the rice and the bits of grilled meats before bringing it to your mouth.

“Uh, well…” Demsey stuttered as he flushed with some embarrassment, because it had been Miss Audra Draft who introduced him to these dishes and had shown him the proper way to eat them. But he couldn’t tell you that, for fear you would think less of him for visiting a whorehouse, because the thought of you thinking less of him was worth than anything else he could imagine at the moment.

“Uh, there’s some orc dishes that are similar in how they’re eaten, it just...seemed natural and the right way to eat it?” He supplied, hoping you couldn’t see right through him.

“Some things just make sense I suppose.” You shrugged, having thought you’d have to explain everything but instead both of you had just dived right in.

“They do.” Demsey nodded as he quickly tried to stuff his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything else.

“So um, you obviously know much more about this cuisine, what can you tell me about it?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Well since you asked…” You grinned happily before you went through it again as Demsey was struck by how similar Miss Draft and you were, so similar in voice and mannerisms and gestures. It was almost like he was sitting next to her again as his heart almost strangely ached for her. But that was not fair to you. You were not her and she was not you. But the dishes themselves must be common knowledge among all mouras, he supposed.

But you couldn’t help but notice that while Demsey was still watching you and listening the best he could, the look in his eye and in his expression, it was like he was missing someone and you began to fear that there was perhaps another in his life, someone he had known before you ever met him. Someone his sisters did not know and maybe before Kate Whitesale. But one who clearly knew the Sultanate Quarter or Hanging Garden Quarter rather, of the stables because that’s where these dishes came from. What if the only reason he liked you, was that you were the legitimate copy of what he really desired? There were so many more mouras here in England than you realized and more than a few were a striking resemblence to you and most of whom, were actually commoners. What if you were the gentrified version of what he really wanted?

That would make sense. What if he came here, looking for her and couldn’t find her and instead settled for your company?

“Are you alright?” You asked.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine, just...I think the smoke is getting to me in this room too.” He tried to excuse, damning himself for not being completely present with you.

“Can I get a bottle of spiced rum please?” You ordered from the barkeep as you started dumping and piling everything on the largest platter as Demsey took your cue and followed your actions until everything was on the large platter before he paid the tab at the bar before he put the lid over the large platter as you grabbed the bottle of rum and followed you through the place where you found a staircase and climbed up it as Demsey followed you before you found what you were looking for, a balcony on the roof of part of the first floor. And on the balcony is where you found Calla and Tzane already sitting at one of the tables and eating something similar.

“Audra!” Calla called you over as you happily went over and pulled out two chairs before Demsey sat the platter down onto the table.

“I thought you two would be dancing.” Tzane noted as he sat next to Calla, the two of them practically sitting thigh to thigh and as close as could be without actually sitting in the other's lap.

“Not in the mood to dance tonight.” You confessed as you sat down as you noticed that Calla and Tzane had also foregone their masks that were on the table as well as you sat yours down as well as Demsey's since his hands had been full carrying the platter.

“But always in the mood to eat.” Demsey grinned happily as he took the lid off the large platter.

“Oooh, that smells really good.” Tzane praised.

“The Hanging Garden Quarter has some of the best food in all of Dorierra,” Calla grinned.

“Well I think this is too much for the two of us, if you want some, have some,” you readily invited as Tzane and Calla didn’t need to be told twice before they got their plates and loaded them up before they dug in themselves before Calla walked Tzane on how to “properly” eat it as the four of you fell into very easy and wonderful conversation before Calla noticed movement in the balcony of the second floor and her eyes went wide as she grabbed Tzane’s hand under the table and squeezed it hard which got him to look over to her before he followed her line of sight to see Ramsey and Axal making out on the edge of the balcony on the second story as he started to choke on his food.

“You ok?” You asked as Tzane punched Demsey in the leg under the table and subtly pointed in the direction he wanted Demsey to look before Demsey gave the direction a curious look just in time to see Ramsey finish kissing Axal before he went down to his knees and undid Axal’s pants and started to suck him off right there on the balcony and choked on his own food as well before you reached over and pat his back.

“You ok there Demsey?” You asked, concern clearly written on your face and in your voice before you head Axal groan a moan which caused you to turn your head just as Axal seemed to notice who was around and moved so that Ramsey was between himself and the balcony that looked down over the first balcony so that Ramsey was hidden from the view from below.

“Hey Axal,” You waived happily, pretending to be oblivious as Demsey, Tzane and Calla looked in horror at each other.

“Hey Audra.” Axal waived.

“Getting your cock sucked by the son of Pharoh?” You asked in Arabic since you knew Axal well enough to know that pleasured look on his face and didn’t want the rest of the table to know that you knew what was really going on.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“Well enjoy the night air, it’s a nice night tonight, keep everyone out of my hair, I’m with who I want to spend the evening with.” You called back in Marinai as Calla tried to recapture her composure.

“Will do!” Axal called back with two thumbs up.

“Uh...what...what did you say to him?” Demsey asked you as he tried to keep composed himself as Tzane was trying to gulp down the rest of the wine he had gotten for himself and Calla, down from the bottle.

“I asked if he was enjoying the night air, and when he said yes, I told him to keep enjoying it since it’s beautiful weather we’re having tonight.” You answered sweetly, continuing to act oblivious.

“Yeah, he’s enjoying it alright.” Tzane coughed into his fist as Demsey glared at his little brother as Calla just flushed as she drank down her glass of wine as well.

“Aren’t we all?” You asked with a scheming grin.

“Well, yeah, maybe not as much as he is though.” Tzane answered as he kept his gaze down at his plate before he tried to fill his mouth with food to keep himself from saying anything else as Demsey glared dangerously at Tzane before Benny and Sierge came out to the balcony as Benny was taking her hair down from its original style as the two still had that giddy, love drunk look with each other as it was clear that a tryst had just transpired between the two.

“Oh hey guys.” Sierge greeted cheerfully, as he came over before you scooted closer to Demsey who also scooted closer to Tzane so that Benny and Sierge would have room at the table.

“Oh good, you guys already ordered food, we worked up quite the appetite on the dancefloor.” Sierge said as he grabbed unused plates from the next table over and gave one to Benny before he helped himself the spread on the table.

“Among other places.” Benny cooed with a playful wink to Sierge who ducked his head and grinned bashfully as you simply smiled knowingly as you gave Benny a meaningful look and she gave a subtle nod that had you nodding along with her.

“Good.” You simply noted as you happily dug into your own food.

It wasn’t until the bluish orc came out, still wearing the rented suit that Demsey had been wearing earlier with Audra’s essences on it- came onto the balcony too with another lady with him before Sierge sniffed the air, turning his head and sniffing the air deeply in his direction.

“What does your bloodhound nose smell now? Does he have better food or what?” Benny teased Sierge.

“Uh, no, uh, I’ll tell you later.” He told her with a meaningful look as she looked intrigued as he sniffed that scent again before he turned back to the table and began sniffing again before his nose seemed to land on you before he quickly turned his head to stare at the platter of food as his eyes went wide for a moment before he seemed to try to be recomposed.

“Yeah, this food smells the best.” He tried to play off casually but he still gave you a weary look as he looked at Demsey who was staring at him in confusion as Sierge pointedly looked at Demsey, then at you then at the bluish orc then back to Demsey pointedly as Demsey just looked at him in complete confusion but sadly, your parents found you and pulled you back inside because they had requested the Hanging Garden Official Dance Anthem and felt you should dance too just as Ocearian found Axal only moments after Axal had cum down Ramsey’s throat and had gotten redressed and adjusted as you let your mother take your hand and lead you away as Calla and Bennie followed as Sierge grabbed Demsey’s arm to keep him from following along too.

“What?” Demsey asked.

“Audra, the Sultana, she has a lover, he’s that blue orc over there.” Sierge accused.

“What?!” Demsey balked.

“My nose doesn’t lie, I can smell her all over him.” Sierge insisted as Demsey looked from his brother to the orc in question.

“Find out for sure.” Demsey said before he left and quickly tried to catch up to you to see you already on the dance floor, surrounded by family as you all danced the danced in synchronized steps.

“Good evening sir, can I talk with you for a moment?” Sierge asked the gentleman.

“Uh, in case you couldn’t tell I’m kind of busy right now?” The guy answered.

“I’ll give you five pounds for five minutes of your time.” Sierge offered.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” The guy immediately told his companion before he got up and followed Sierge a short distance away.

“What?” He demanded.

“First, what’s your name?” Sierge asked.

“Robert Wainsright.” He answered.

“And your orc name?” Sierge prodded.

“What does it matter?” He protested.

“Ok fine, who have you been with tonight?” Sierge asked.

“Her! That’s the only one I’ve been around all night! Why does that matter?” Robert demanded.

“Because the scent on your clothes says otherwise, now tell me again, have you been intimate with anyone tonight?” Sierge demanded.

“What are you the fucking coppers? What business of yours is it who I’ve been with?” Robert protested.

“Because the smell on your clothes implicates you.” Sierge growled dangerously.

“Implicates me in what? A fucking murder?” Robert demanded angrily.

“You know what, fine, if you say you haven’t been with anyone other than the lady at the table, then I have no choice but to take your word for it, who is she by the way?” Sierge asked as he took out his wallet and began going through his bank notes to find the right one.

“She’s one of the workers for The Red Velvet Rope, she works in the kitchens.” Robert answered as he took the bill from Sierge’s hand.

“Thank you, that’s all I needed to know.” Sierge grinned triumphantly before he left and went back inside to see Demsey watching appreciatively as you danced with your family, with a bright happy smile on your face which brought a fond one to his own hands.

“And?” Demsey pressed Sierge.

“The guy’s name was Robert Wainswright and he claims the only one he was with was the lady he was eating with.” Sierge reported.

“Ok, well maybe your nose is wrong for once.” Demsey nodded and went back to watching you dance and enjoying yourself as Sierge fought with himself whether he should tell his brother or not but now was not the time or place and when the dance ended you ended up pulling Demsey to the floor to dance with you as Demsey, despite previously having no stomach for it, was suddenly all too happy to try to dance along to these strange dances with practically hypnotizing music but the best and yet the worst part was, to see your moura marks on your skin flow, pulse and flash like fireworks was both amazing yet, plagued him with guilt that he, once again, was forced to recall Audra Draft’s marks and how they would do the same thing. He needed to get over her. Maybe it would have been better if he had not seen her tonight and not been drawn in by that vixin's siren's call. Because then he would have focused completely on you. You deserved his undivided attention and affection and having you compete with any other would be a crime against the gods.

But he did feel kind of smug that if Ramsey got any closer to you, he had his own ace up his sleeve, to know that Ramsey was actually having intimate relations with your brother no less, you had told Demsey yourself that you were the jealous type and would not share your partner with anyone, much less a family member and when and if you ever found that out, you would immediately rid yourself of Ramsey for good, all he needed to protect himself from now on was his own implications with Miss Draft and he was as good as gold and as long as you never found that out, he was sure to win your affections honestly and wholeheartedly. Miss Draft had just been a bad mistake, made...thrice, but only thrice and no more.

Demsey didn’t care if he looked ridiculous, he was dancing with you, almost holding you on the dance floor and being so close to you, to have you smiling up at him like he was the only man in the world you had eyes for had his heart soaring and his pride beaming and his possessiveness over you almost insatiable. In this moment, yet again, he was overcome by his gut telling him that you, were the only woman in the world for him and that Miss Draft would from now on, only live in his past, never again in his future.

[lostinfic]

Art for Hearts’ Sake

Pairing: Jean-François Mercier/Betty Vates

Rated E  |  4400 words

Summary: Betty works in a care home and every week she sneaks out one of her elderly patients to a nearby art gallery. There she meets a mysterious Frenchman. He's an art dealer of some kind, or so she thinks, until he takes her on whirlwind escapade.

Fluff and smut / Art thief AU (loosely based on The Thomas Crown Affair)

Ao3

Betty peeked outside the room, left and right. At the end of the corridor, Mrs. Mansfield opened the door to the stairwell.  As soon as it closed behind her, Betty whispered: “The coast is clear.”

“Let’s go.”

Eighty-three year-old, Maurice Delorme, donned his fedora, pushing it low on his forehead to shade his eyes.

Betty pushed his wheelchair out of the bedroom, down the corridor and into the hall. She winked at 92-year-old Annette who shrieked, clutching her chest, thus distracting the nurse away from the front desk. Betty and Maurice rushed past the reception area, out the front doors and around the building.

Betty stopped to catch her breath. Maurice laughed wheezily, slapping his thigh.

“We did it, ma chère.”

“Remind me to get that fudge Annette likes.”

“Did I ever tell you I once saw her perform at La Scalla de Milan in 1963?”

“Have you?” Betty replied though, of course, she had heard the story before. She didn’t mind, Maurice had had the most amazing life, and she enjoyed his reminiscence however embellished they might be.

The St. James, where she worked, was a small and exclusive care home for elderly millionaires. Certainly nothing like the conditions in which her mother had lived. For many years, Betty had taken care of her mother, who suffered from an early-onset form of dementia, in their small flat in Leeds. When her mother passed away, Betty not only had to grieve for her parent, but also for the many years during which she had put her own life on hold. The day after the funeral, she’d looked at herself in the mirror and realized she didn’t know who she was. On a whim, she had moved to London and promised herself to live life to the fullest.

Things had turned out significantly less glamorous than expected. She couldn’t afford a home in a desirable neighborhood. And, with no formal education or work experience to speak of, she had found employment doing the same chores she had done for her mother. At least, at the St. James, she was paid for it, had real days off, and suffered less verbal abuse. Most of all, moving away had not magically rid her of her shyness and anxieties. Wherever she went, they followed, but she was getting better at giving them the slip.

Part of living life to the fullest had involved letting Maurice convince her to sneak him out of the care home. His doctor advised against any taxing activities and public spaces where germs abounded. But he longed to visit a museum or a gallery.  

“What is a life without art, but a body without a heart?” he’d complained dramatically.

And thus had begun their weekly escapades.

Just a few streets away from the care home was Kinwood Palace, an illustrious property with a world-class art collection open to the public. Betty loved the gorgeous gardens, but Maurice was here for the Rembrandts and Vermeers.

Betty pushed her accomplice over the gravel leading to the neoclassical villa. Despite being hot from the physical effort and warm summer air, Betty kept her cute coat on to hide her unflattering scrubs. She liked the coat’s sixties vibe with its big black buttons and bright colour, something she would never have worn before.

Tourists already filled the great blue and white entrance hall of Kinwood. Maurice flashed their English Heritage membership cards to the box office clerk. Betty scanned the crowd.

“Shall we pay a visit to Boticelli today?” Maurice asked. She nodded inattentively. “Or shall we visit Ringo Starr?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Betty, are you looking for him? The Frenchman.”

“Dunno what you’re on about.”

But her blushing cheeks betrayed her.

“You should invite him for— what is it youths call it?— ah, yes, for Netflix and chill.”

She burst out laughing. Her laughter echoed in the gallery, and she promptly slapped a hand over her mouth.

“If I were your age, I would invite him,” Maurice said.

“You were married when you were my age. And you loved Felicia.”

“Yes, yes. I could never love another woman after her. But I was always curious about sodomites… Do you think you could find me a rent boy, dear?”

She giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Well?” he insisted.

“Oh... Maybe?”

“It was good enough for Leonardo, after all,” he said as they stopped in front of framed sketches drawn by da Vinci himself.

Every room of Kinwood palace was breathtaking, Rococo frescoes decorated the walls between Roman columns, and hanging from the coffered ceiling, massive chandeliers sparkled. And there were books, so many books, and vases of fresh flowers everywhere. As Maurice admired the masterpieces in gilded frames, Betty imagined herself living in a place like this, a century ago, or imagined being an actress in a period drama.

“He’s here,” Maurice whispered.

“Who?”

“Who?” he parroted; She wasn’t fooling him.

She glanced sideways and spotted the Frenchman, smoking just outside the garden doors, his jacket hooked on a finger over his shoulder. His hair was neatly pomaded, his trousers tailored, his shirt smooth and sharp: an old-fashioned sort of cool, straight out of her wet dreams.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she bit back a simper. She knew that from behind his sunglasses, he was studying her. One corner of his mouth rose in a languid, crooked smile.

Five times now they had visited Kinwood at the same time.  Five times he had watched her from afar, with that penetrating gaze of his, the hesitated— no, not hesitated, evaluated or calculated— and finally approached her. Though he never stayed long in their company, he’d made a lasting impression on both her and Maurice.

He’d said he was a subcontractor for Kinwood, as an art appraiser, she assumed because of the way he observed everything. Including Betty herself. Being seen, it unsettled her. Most days she felt indistinguishable from a potted plant. Perhaps a side effect of having lived with a mother who couldn’t recognize her anymore for years. Though Betty considered herself plain by contemporary standards, she liked to think that, on a good day, she had a hint of beauty from another era. Perhaps he could appreciate that.

He greeted Maurice warmly, in French, then turned to her, “I thought I’d recognized your laugh.” He pocketed his sunglasses, then took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

To anyone, she would have claimed he was laying it on a bit thick, but deep down she melted.

“Son nom est Betty et elle est célibataire,” Mr. Delorme said to the Frenchman.

Betty glared at him, though she didn’t know what he’d said beside her name.

“I’m Jean-François,” he said, mostly to her.

They walked together through the rooms, and soon forgot about the art. He had a way of mentioning things she had said in previous conversations: he’d read a book she liked, and he asked after the stray kittens she worried. Betty, too, remembered every word he had ever said to her, but was trying very hard to look like she didn’t. But here he was, being so openly infatuated, she’d convinced herself it was too good to be true. Yet every time they met, her misgivings vanished, and she let herself be thoroughly charmed.

They stopped in front of a small canvas, “The Enchanted Castle” by Claude Gellée, and this time Betty paid attention.  

“It’s one of your favourites, isn’t it?” Jean-François remarked.

“I like landscapes the best. They’re like a window to another place, another time. I can almost… jump in. Escape.”

She covered her mouth, regretting that last word. But Jean-François brushed her hand away.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Emboldened by his touch, Betty said, “Would you— I mean, I’m working now, but later, maybe we could— if you’d like…”

“Yes,” he said again.

“Okay.” She laughed and bit her bottom lip.

“But first, I have a painting to steal.”

“What?”

He slipped his jacket on and popped the collar. He said a few words in French to Mr. Delorme, then vanished out of the gallery.

Betty blinked, mouth agape. Well, that’s one way of getting dumped.

“Oh, no, I think I dropped my pills,” Mr. Delorme said, patting his breast pockets. “I swear I had them.”

“I’ll go look for them,” she said, thankful for an excuse to get away.

Fifteen minutes later, she found the bottle of medication in the antechamber thanks to a security guard. After that, Mr. Delorme asked to leave.

On the way back, Betty didn’t say a word. In her mind, she kept replaying the scene, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. Her eyes teared up, but she blamed it on the dry wind. Humiliation, sadness and anger warred in her chest.

*

They weren’t careful going back inside the care home and were caught by the nurse at the front desk. Mrs. Manfield was a real stickler for rules and disliked Betty.

“We were only out in the garden,” Maurice retorted before Betty could gather her wits.

The nurse narrowed her eyes at them. “If I find out otherwise…” she warned.

Betty could lose her job over these little escapades, all for what? A rich old man and a weird Frenchman?

She took Mr. Delorme back to his room. With an unusually cold attitude, she helped him out of his outerwear and onto the armchair in front of the TV. Her behaviour shocked him, and he tried to soothe her with jokes and charm, but she ignored him.

“We won’t be going back to Kinwood palace,” she announced and left his apartments.

She went back to work, to menial tasks and being called by other carers’ names.

By the end of her shift at 5 pm, on top of the humiliation, sadness, anger and fear of losing her job, she was now feeling guilty about having been so cold with Mr. Delorme. She changed out of her dirty scrubs into her own clothes. Putting on the yellow sundress and cardigan cheered her up. She decided to pay Maurice a visit before leaving.

*

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Delorme. I panicked.”

“Don’t worry about it, ma chère.” He patted her hands. “You will feel better soon, I just know it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.” He winked.

She chalked it up to his eccentric nature, but then there was a knock at the door.

“Told you,” he said.

Betty opened the door and gasped at finding Jean-François standing there.

“Good evening, Betty.”

“What— what are you doing here?”

“I have some unfinished business.”

He closed the door behind him and walked to Mr. Delorme’s wheelchair. He knelt beside it and fiddled with the underside, finally pulling out a slim leather case.

“Let’s see it,” Mr. Delorme said, rubbing his hands excitedly.

In a smooth move, Jean-François set the case on the table, flipped the locks and revealed its content: a painting. A painting from the Kinwood collection. One of her favorites: a moonlit forest by Joseph Wright of Derby.

“Tell me it’s a very good fake,” she whispered.

“There is a very good fake,” he said, “whether it’s in that case or at the gallery, well…” he smirked.

He closed back the case and checked his watch.

“Perfect.” Jean-François offered her his arm. “Are you ready for our date?”

Betty rubbed her brow and laughed incredulously. She cast a glance at Mr. Delorme who was nothing but encouraging.

“Where would we go?”

“First, I am going to hang this in my home, then we can grab a bite to eat. Is that all right with you?”

Mr. Delorme whispered, “Netflix and chill.”

Betty felt rooted on the spot. Her first instinct was to refuse. Going to a stranger’s house on the first date, a stranger who might be a thief? That was a bad idea. A fantastically terrible idea. A terribly alluring idea.

She looped her arm through his. Striding out of her place of work on his arm, she felt like a million bucks. Which is to say, less than what that masterpiece was worth.

Outside the doors, a gleaming vintage Jaguar awaited them, chauffeur standing straight beside it. They slipped in the backseat. When the door closed, butterflies erupted in Betty’s stomach.

The chauffeur smoothly navigated the traffic and drove them just outside London, to a private aerodrome. Jean-François opened the car door for her just as two men in coveralls rolled a ladder up to a small aircraft.

In a daze, Betty held Jean-François’s hand and followed him inside the cockpit. He buckled her seat harness and gave her some instructions she barely registered. He flicked switches and talked to Ground Control.

“Ready?” he asked her.

Betty should have been scared, but she couldn’t muster any fear, only excitement. Perhaps that’s what should have scared her.

She took a deep breath. “Ready.”

He taxied the plane into position and down the runway, faster and faster. Betty’s heart rate accelerated. Jean-François pulled back the controls, and as they rose in the air, a flush of adrenaline tingled through her body. Soon, they were flying over twilit London.

“Where are we going?”

“Like I said, to my home, first.”

She laughed as the blue-grey waters of the Channel appeared on the horizon. France straight ahead.

Her cheeks ached from smiling, and her heart never slowed.

They landed on a small strip in the middle of a wooded area. Betty’s legs wobbled when she stood up. Jean-François offered his hand to help her deplane. He was so frustratingly cool and composed for someone who’d just flown a stolen masterpiece across the border.

The country air was pure and warm. They weren’t in Paris, but in southern France. They walked along a trail then a grand villa came into view. Whitewashed stone, terracotta roof and blue shutters among ambitious vines and towering cypresses. Dogs ran in the tall grass, and wildflowers decorated the lawn. Solar panels hinted at an off-the-grid lifestyle.

“So?” he asked with a sweeping gesture.

She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Showoff.”

“When else can I show off if not on the first date?”

“All I’m saying is you’re setting the bar pretty high for the second date.”

She thought, even if this turns out to be all a ruse to get her in bed, even if he sends her back to London tomorrow without a goodbye, she didn’t care. It would be worth it. She deserved an incredible fling.

A middle-aged housekeeper came out to greet him and narrowed her eyes at his guest.

“You brought someone with you, monsieur?”

“Don’t worry, Marie.”

He stepped forward, still holding Betty’s hand, but she tugged him back.

“Hey, if I’m not back for my shift tomorrow morning, Mr. Delorme knows I’m with you and what you did.”

“Understood.” He bowed slightly. A curl fell to his forehead. “Smart girl.”

Although the house was old, the interior was modern. Selected antiques blended harmoniously with the warm, minimalist style. Crown molding and tapestries hid a high-end security system. She caught a glimpse of a library and of a workshop filled with art supplies. Portraits hung on the walls, going back generations. A photo of a younger Jean-François with a woman stood out: a wedding portrait. At the sight of it, Betty stopped dead in her tracks. Her nails bit into her palms. She didn’t trust her voice to ask a question evenly.

“Ah.” He scratched the back of his head.  “She… she passed away five years ago.”

“I’m sorry. I thought— well, I’m sorry.”

He hesitated by the photo. For the first time, he looked almost destabilized.

“You thought what?” he asked after such a long pause she didn’t understand his question right away. “That I was a playboy?”

“Maybe. Are you?”

“Is that why you came with me?”

“No.”

He studied her for a moment then brushed a knuckle along her jaw. Without another word, he resumed guiding her through the house.

He led her to the living room. There was another painting in here: a large canvas of hazy water lilies.

“Another very good fake?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

He carefully removed the Wright of Derby painting from the leather case.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She had many thoughts, mostly about all the people who wouldn’t get to see it now.

“Dunno,” she said. “Will you sell it?”

“No. I will deliver it to Maurice’s granddaughter in Vienna. But until then...”

He placed the canvas upon a wooden picture ledge above the fireplace. The moonlit landscape shone against the plain wall.

“Hold on. What? Mr. Delorme?”

“The painting belonged to his wife’s family, but it was stolen by Nazis in ‘38.”

“Are you telling me you’re some sort of Robin Hood?”

“Oh, no. My fees are exorbitant.”

She snorted a laugh.

“Couldn’t they get it back legally?”

“They tried. In the 1960s, I believe. But they’d lost proof of ownership during the war, and the family at Kinwood denied any transaction with former Nazi officers, as one does.”

Betty puzzled over this new information. In less than twelve hours, her idea of him had shifted so many times she could hardly keep track. But one thing hadn’t changed: her attraction.

“You know, you nearly derailed my plans,” he said.

“How so?”

“A year of meticulous planning and then, out of nowhere, comes this lovely woman I cannot stop thinking about. I shouldn’t have let myself be seen talking to Maurice so often.”

“You’re having me on.”

“I brought you here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I gave in too easily. Where’s the challenge in that for you?”

“Where’s the challenge in letting someone get close to me?” A rhetorical question veiling a confession.

She tilted her head to the side and considered him. He let her.

“Was anyone hurt by your plan?”

“Not a soul, I swear.”

Marie brought in a bottle of red wine with two glasses and a plate of cheese, bread and thin slices of roasted duck.

Jean-François pressed a button on the wall. Curtains swayed aside, revealing tall sliding glass doors that framed a landscape not unlike the one in the painting. One of the doors was open, warm air swirled in, balmy with dew and night blossoms.

He opened the wine bottle and sampled its bouquet. Satisfied, he filled their glasses which they rose in a silent toast to whatever delights the night might bring. Drinking, she stared at the landscape outside. Beyond a small terrace, the ground sloped to a valley where centennial trees grew around a lake, mist skated upon its silvery surface. Away from the city lights, myriad stars shone in the night sky.

An escape.

The glass pane hazily reflected Jean-François as he came to stand behind her. She felt his warmth radiate over her skin though he wasn’t touching her yet. Drawn in, she leaned back, just a little, an invitation, an ouverture.

He trailed a single finger from her earlobe, down her neck, to her shoulder. And she shivered with longing. He gently swiped her hair away, and his lips replaced his finger, careful, precise kisses, inching towards the strap of her dress and sliding it aside.

“What does it feel like, striding into a gallery and taking whatever you want from the walls?”

“Calming. At that moment, I am utterly focused and in control. Then when I slip away with my prize, my blood begins to sizzle.”

“Is it still sizzling now?”

“Yes.”

He met her reflected gaze on the glass pane.

“Mine too,” she said.

She turned around in his arms, and he watched patiently as she put their glasses on a side table. Placing her hands upon his chest, she felt his sharp intake of breath, his rapid heartbeat. She slid her palms up to his neck, and his eyelids fluttered when her fingers delved into the locks at the back of his head. With a gentle push, she guided his lips to hers. He let her take the lead, modest and timid at first, then slowly yielding to instinct and hunger. When she opened her mouth to his, he cupped her cheek and leaned into her until her back pressed to the window. He kissed her with dedication, with utter focus, tasting and caressing her lips, intent on making her tingle all over. Heat flared through her, and she arched into the curve of his body bent over her.

Oh boy.

Eyes still closed, she broke the kiss for air and licked his taste on her lips.

“That was some grade-A kissing,” she whispered.

Jean-François laughed and pecked her forehead. “I like you.”

“Yeah? ‘cause I stroke your ego?”

“Because you’re honest.”

“Well, if I’m being honest I'd very much like you to sweep me off my feet again.”

“As you wish.”

In one smooth move, he grabbed her thighs and hiked her up on his hips. Betty squeaked and held onto him. He kissed her against the glass door, exploring her neck and cleavage, all lips and teeth and tongue. She wound her legs tighter around him, seeking friction to soothe the throbbing he’d triggered. He sucked in a breath and bucked his hips.

He carried her outside, to a nearby wooden chaise lounge and laid her on the striped cushion.

She expected him to flip up her skirt and pound, but he knelt beside the chair. He rubbed her ankles, then slid his hand up her leg to her knee. Betty’s breath quickened. She parted her legs. The ascension continued, his hand slipped underneath the hem of her skirt and up inside her thigh. He stopped inches from her underwear, and kissed her again. It was agony to have his hand so close to where she needed it. His mouth traveled to her breasts, he pulled down the bodice of her dress, just enough to access a nipple. Betty squirmed and keened, and finally his fingers slipped inside her knickers.

She looked like a Renaissance muse, lounging, with her arms over her head, one breast bare, and layers of fabric bunched about her waist. And he studied her as he sought the spots that made her sigh and cry. Her lewd noises accompanied the cicadas’ song. And she should’ve been ashamed to make such a wanton display, but the heat in his eyes was worth it.

This man could take anything he wanted, and he had chosen her.

She came embarrassingly fast.

He licked his fingers and grinned.

“Showoff,” she said again.

She grabbed his tie and pulled him over her. He laughed against her lips, and it hurt with how good it felt to share this joke, this joy.

She blindly unknotted his tie as he fumbled with his buttons. Unable to wait any longer, she cupped the tantalizing bulge in his trousers. He groaned and that filled her with pride.

He stood up to take off his trousers, and she made him recline on the chaise. With half-lidded eyes, he observed her straddling his legs. She admired him, as he had her. His hair was completely disheveled now. His open shirt revealed a lean, firm chest and taut stomach down which she dragged her fingernails. His cock twitched as she neared it. She teased the surrounding skin until he growled her name. She stroked him to full hardness, enjoying the way he hardened in her hand. Because of her.

And now, for the pièce de résistance. She rose to her knees, and Jean-François’s jaw went slack.  She had barely had time to enjoy his fingers, but she planned on savouring this. Slowly and with a long, luxuriating moan, she slid down every inch of him, wetting him to the root.

He gripped her hips, urging her to move. His chest heaved with panting breaths. She gorged herself on his lust and desperation. With every bounce, her dress slid lower down her torso.

She held onto the top of the seat for leverage, but she must have been too vigorous for the adjustable back suddenly collapsed. Betty yelped and Jean-François caught her.

“Crikey!” she said, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Are you hurt?”

“Scared me half to death, but I’m okay. You?”

“I’m fine.”

They looked at each other, then broke into a loud guffaw. Mirth and embarrassment heated her cheeks. She truly couldn’t stop laughing. Jean-François even teared up.

“You’re so beautiful when you laugh,” he said. It came out so naturally, it was almost reckless by his standards.

Her heart swelled, and she kissed him. He rolled on top of her, spurred on by this small shot of adrenaline.

Betty shivered; it was getting cold outside.

“Shall we go back inside?” he asked.

“If you don’t mind.”

They picked up their clothes and closed the patio door. With a remote control, he turned on the fireplace.

He picked up his glass of wine from where she’d left them. He drank while watching her undress and lie down on the plush carpet, in the orange glow of the flames. With a beckoning smile, she extended a hand toward him. He removed the last of his clothes and crawled over her.

Skin to skin, bodies entwined, they moved together. And suddenly it was so tender and so very real. A leisurely give-and-take of pleasure. Delight and satisfaction mirrored in each other’s face. They gasped and moaned and laughed, then fell silent, foreheads together, fingers entwined, staring in each other’s eyes, toeing the edge of bliss.

Even after climaxing, they didn’t part. Jean-François buried his face in her neck and held her even closer.

Betty looked up at the stolen painting, and, for once, didn’t feel the pull to lose herself in its landscape. She closed her eyes and stroked his hair and thought nothing would ever be this perfect.

*

Eventually, hunger and thirst caught up with them. They put their underwear back on, and Betty borrowed Jean-François’s shirt.

They ate, sitting on the carpet, their legs still entwined. The wine, the cheeses, the meat, everything was unbelievably tasteful. She licked her fingers clean and refilled their glasses. Jean-François slouched down, head against the couch, unwound like she had never seen him before.

“Betty, do you still want to go back to London in time for your morning shift?”

“Goodness no.”

“Good. I know an excellent restaurant in Vienna. It’s inside a tropical greenhouse, you’ll love it.”

“Vienna?”

“How is that for a second date?”

[a-pirate-my-hearties]

Brotherhood of the Wolf (a review? Furious posting? Who knows? I know that film is 19 years old but anyway, #spoilers ahead). Buckle up for a long post!

Yesterday I watched “Brotherhood of the Wolf” for the first (and probably last) time. It definitely looked like my type of thing - period drama, XVIII century, horror elements, I knew some of the cast are good actors, so I decided to give it a try.

According to Wikipedia:

“Brotherhood of the Wolf (French: Le Pacte des loups) is a 2001 French period action horror film[3][4] directed by Christophe Gans, co-written by Gans and Stéphane Cabel, and starring Samuel Le Bihan, Mark Dacascos, Émilie Dequenne, Monica Bellucci and Vincent Cassel. The story takes place in 18th-century France, where the Chevalier de Fronsac and Mani of the Iroquois tribe are sent to investigate the mysterious slaughter of hundreds by an unknown creature in the province of Gévaudan. The plot is loosely based on a real-life series of killings that took place in France in the 18th century and the famous legend of the beast of Gévaudan; parts of the film were shot at Château de Roquetaillade. The film has several extended swashbuckling fight scenes, with martial arts performances by the cast mixed in, making it unusual for a historical drama. The special effects for the creature are a combination of computer generated imagery, as well as puppetry and animatronics designed by Jim Henson's Creature Shop.”

So while the martial arts (of which I’m a big fan, everyone who knows me well knows that) and animatronics seemed atypical for such a film, I decided to watch anyway. And it was good fun while it lasted (2 and a half hour is waaay too long, by the way, at least for my taste), but then I was finished, which left me sleep deprived (now I know it wasn’t that worth it), and so it begins.

There’s too much of everything stuffed into that film. Swashbuckling fight scenes, period drama, horror, Gothic themed scenes (and a lot of them, which made my little creepy heart happy), martial arts, Native American rituals and beliefs, an animatronic beast (??? I mean, at least they could have made it CGI, for crying out loud), a dangerous religious sect, and way too much unnecessary violence towards innocent wolves (I know they weren’t innocent in the eyes of those who killed them, but the film makers could at least decide not to show it explicitly). So much going.

And I’m fuming, because it could have been so easily a wonderful Gothic horror kind of film! With better writing and less fiddling about the plot it could have been something like “Jane Eyre” or "Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde", or “Crimson Peak”, but no. Nooo. They had to make it sell, hence a lot of special effects and unnecessary (in my eyes) fight scenes.

So what did we have that could have made “Brotherhood of the Wolf” a great, believable Gothic horror piece of cinema?

the protagonist (Grégoire de Fronsac) and his loyal, mysterious friend (Mani), that is much more interesting than the protagonist really (and is a Native American from the Iroquois tribe, who possesses magic powers? He’s got that powerful connection with nature and spirits. Idk how that’s supposed to fit into the Gothic, but eh, Mani was an awesome character and I’m not going to let him out of this)

the feisty heroine (Marianne de Morangias)

the disabled/disfigured antagonist with tragic past ( Jean-François de Morangias, THANK YOU VINCENT CASSEL)

the mysterious, badass courtesan (bowing down to Monica Belucci for this one)

the horror story AND the space for the horror that’s unravelling (the beast killing people in the province of Gévaudan, the province itself + the castle)

the (almost tragic) love story (de Fronsac + Marianne)

the duality of good and evil (kinda) in one character (Jean-François being all cute and easy on the eyes and more-less civil before he reveals his disfigurations to Marianne and oh boy. I’d love to say Jekyll&Hyde, but it wasn’t a thing until 1886, so let’s say a two-face kind of situation, because doppelgänger would be a stretch here.)

incest/incestous attraction -  (I know, it’s fucking horrible, but it was quite common in XIX century literature  - vide writings of François-René de Chateaubriand (for example René , 1805), and, unfortunately, in life, so you can look up Byron and his sister, and it was used in “Crimson Peak” as well

a lot of sexy banter and intellectual talk in general (one should never underestimate the tension it creates!)

Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls™ 

So yeah, this sums up more less what could have been...

Now what went wrong.

Grégoire de Fronsac is boring. Just plain boring, at least in my eyes. I appreciate that he went straight up berserk to avenge Mani though. That was Good Shit.

Marianne de Morangias. Feisty and stubborn, yes. Intelligent, without a doubt. Sensitive, still a bit naive and putting on a shield because she’s growing up in an unfavourable environment. But I have a feeling that she wasn’t exactly written well enough and she’s ends up being at least a bit of an annoying, privileged, poutty child. So there’s that, maybe I’m nitpicking.

Jean-François de Morangias. Simply a wasted character, because Vincent Cassel’s acting was GORGEOUS. He could have been a great antagonist/villain if given a chance, and it was ruined by too much protagonist, running around aimlessly, swashbuckling and kicking through the scenes. Him being the commander of the beast wasn’t explained well enough (because the beast had a commander). And they ended up giving Jean-François the weirdest weapon in the final fight with de Fronsac, which ruined his image entirely and just. Didn’t stick, just what the fuck was that? What the fuck was that nunchaku-sword made of bones????

That beast. It was just laughable. I’m sorry, I was sympathizing the fuck with it, it was a tortured animal put into heavy armour and trained to kill, but just. Wtf was that armour?? Who made that thing and decided it was good to put that into the film???

Too much martial arts, again. What was that for?

I feel like, besides Mani, most of the Native American/POC were depicted in a racist manner, like they weren’t even talking, just fighting, drinking, partying, not talking AT ALL most of the time but growling at each other or others, laughing like maniacs, acting agressive, like animals, even the sexual behaviours shown on the screen were vulgar. I don’t know if it was supposed to show POC through the lens of the white people of that time, but it was awful anyway.

Scenes pointlessly fading one into the other. Probably made to look artistic. Didn’t make sense most of the time.

The plot was full of holes. Just wear a bullet-proof vest next time.

If I can sum this up in any way... Watch it for the beautiful pictures, music, costumes, Vincent Cassel, Monica Bellucci and Mark Dacascos. And don’t  expect too much from the plot.