#or they decided it would get more views if they just baited instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melobin · 2 months ago

Text

sohee + voyeurism ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

day six. you leave your door open for sohee.

warnings. roommate!sohee, male and female masturbating, voyeur!sohee

wc. 1.4k

masterlist

day 5 / day 7

you were sneaky, oh you were so sneaky. maybe too sneaky. it never crossed sohee’s mind once that you left your door open on purpose, the gap gave him what he believed to be the perfect view of you laid out naked on your bed, pink toy in hand with your fingers running over your clit in slow circles. sohee thought he was in heaven, but he quickly realised no god would approve of him being such a pervert.

you and sohee had been playing a game that had lasted almost too long now, you had been roommate for around a year and in that time you had slowly reeled each other in but with no relief at the end. it seemed as if you were always baiting each other, always sharing glances and teasing touches without ever making a proper move. it was tiring, so you decided to step it up a notch, maybe more than just a notch.

you left your door open a little wide than ajar when you went to bed that night, making sure to go earlier than sohee so he had no choice but to walk past your room when heading to his own. you lacked nerves, you were more excited than you had anticipated yourself to be when stripping off your clothes and reaching for the toy you kept under your bed. you were almost certain that sohee had seen your dildo before, whether it was from snooping through your things or from the countless times you had accidentally left it peaking out from under your bed knowing he would be in your room to talk to you about something.

you were beyond horny at that point, your fingers itching to ease the throbbing in your core. you sighed in relief when your fingers finally made contact with your clit, you were surprised yourself at how wet you already were, clearly your plan had gotten to you more than you had realised. you shouldn’t have been too surprised though, just the thought of sohee seeing you making yourself unravel at the thought of him turned you on to no end. even if he wasn’t aware that he was the one on your mind, just knowing he’d be watching you was enough.

it didn’t take long for you to hear his gentle footsteps, they only lasted for a few short seconds before they stopped. you knew how they sounded when they reached his room, sohee didn’t get that far. you opened your eyes before shutting them again, being able to see the silhouette of his body between the space left open by your door told you everything you needed to know.

you let yourself be vocal, whimpering as your fingers circled with ease over your sensitive bud. you lifted your other hand that was holding the toy to your mouth, letting it fall onto your tongue as you pushed it deep between your lips. wetting the entirety of the toy before taking it out and doing it again. if sohee really was going to watch, you were going to put on a show.

sohee was floored, he felt as if his feet were glued to the wood beneath him as he stared forward at you. he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, which he definitely didn’t. watching you laying there, bare and spread out made his cock ache and watching as you lifted the toy to your lips and pushed it through them only caused his hand to slip into his sweats. he had his hand wrapped around himself before he had truly realised what he was doing, but he couldn’t help himself. he was already leaking onto his hand as he stroked himself, using his other hand to push down his sweats just enough to have his cock out so he could do it more comfortably.

sohee missed the way you opened your eyes for a split second, not noticing that you had already detected his presence. he was too caught up in the feeling of his hand around his cock, wishing it was you instead. that only grew when he watched you bring the toy down to your pussy and press it against yours lips. his eyes were open wide as he watched you part your legs wider, he had the perfect, full view of your slick cunt from where he was standing. it caused his cock to throb in his grip and his mouth to water.

he couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you eased the toy into yourself, your back arching and your fingers still rubbing your clit as you moaned. sohee’s hand tightened around his cock as you pulled the toy out before thrusting it back into yourself, picking up speed almost immediately. sohee could hear how soaked you were from where he stood outside of your room, the toy fucking into you causing the squelching sound to echo throughout the room and into the hallway. sohee was in awe as he watched you, the sweetest sounds coming from your lips as you fucked yourself in such a sinful way. he could tell you were feeling good, it was written all over your body and sohee loved it. he wished he could be the one making you feel that good, god he would’ve done anything to have his cock replacing the toy you were using. he was sure he was better than some flimsy, silicone.

his mind went blank as you shifted, he was prepared to run and hide when he watched you pull the toy out of your core and sit up. he watched carefully, hand stilled on his cock as you reached to get something from your bedside table and placed it on the bed, sticking the suction of the dildo to it before you knelt above it. his eyes widened again, hand beginning to move on his cock once more as he watched you sink down onto the toy.

sohee had a full view of your body now, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it as your tits bounced each time you sank back down on the fake cock. you seemed to moan louder now, whimpering out as your fingers went back to your clit and you moved up and down repeatedly. sohee’s hand found itself moving in time with you, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as the pleasure sent his head dizzy. he ended up leaning against the door frame, unable to stay standing as he bit into his lip even harder.

you were irresistible, so incredibly beautiful. sohee just wanted you once, wanted to hear you cry out his name as he fucked you better than some stupid toy. oh the vengeance he had against that thing. if he had you, he’d throw it away and show you how much better he could make you feel. he knew he could.

hearing you moan his name though, sohee thought it was something he could only dream of. so he was in disbelief when he heard you whimper it. at first he thought he misheard you, but then it slipped from your lips a little louder, followed by a pathetically cute please and his name once more. it almost made sohee cum on the spot, in fact he would’ve if it wasn’t for his hand tightening around the base of his cock. he couldn’t cum yet, he needed to cum with you and he could tell that you were getting close.

your hips bucked desperately against the toy, your eyes were squeezed shut as you fucked yourself on it, your fingers only moving quicker against your clit. your whole body shook as you felt the intensity close in on you. within the blink of an eye the pressure broke and you let out your loudest moan yet, your free quickly coming to cover your mouth as you came over your toy. sohee came with you, his cum dripping down his hand and onto his sweats. for a few moments he forgot where he was, his eyes shutting as he tried to calm himself down. he could still hear you breathing heavily as he opened his eyes.

sohee instantly felt the world stop. your eyes met his as you smiled sweetly at him. his lips refused to part, his tongue trapping itself as any words he could say to you got stuck in his throat. he found himself rushing to the bathroom and locking the door behind him. he needed to shower, to wash off any of the sins he just committed. but unluckily for sohee, the smile you gave him when you caught his eyes only made him hard all over again and he knew he was in for something when you knocked on the bathroom door and softly called his name.

“sohee? it’s your turn.”

tag list. @maripositaa @urwonnly @gothamgf @annenakamura @collosalb1tch @leejeongz @taromilkteass @electric-hearts @https-yeonjun @wonbinkisser @zynz0 @cupidslovearrows @gacktsa @selleprotection @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @yizhoutv @s3l3n0phile @cherrytaesan @bananielle @lovetaroandtaemin @lovenanamin @haechiiiz @ihrtsoph @ikeu4life @ywnzn @eaudenana @seokiebin @ramyeonzprincess @ikisswonbin @blooqz @antoncore

#✧ hard hours ✧#✧ melody posts #riize smut #sohee smut #riize sohee smut

171 notes · View notes

formylovetodaryldixon · 6 days ago

Text

“Russian roulette.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif)

The game of killing or dying was too much for you after Richard was about to use you as bait, so you left to not be part of that life. However, it happens that you have a husband who is an excellent hunter, and who swears to you that he would burn everything in his path until he finds you.

A/N: This is an imagine I wrote a long time ago, but that was the first time I wrote smut (I suck at it, really) that's why I never did it, but I tried my best hehe. I realized that I love, LOVE writing Daryl as a husband, is kind of hot♥ (Sorry if there are any grammatical errors)

From afar, Daryl sees you teaching the children of the kingdom how to use the bow in the archery area. Some little ones had good bases to become great archers, to protect themselves and others from the dead, but he sees too how they insist that you show them again how it was done. So you search inside the quiver that hangs against your back, taking an arrow with a red feather in it that shines in the morning sun when you connect it with the bow. With a fluid movement, you raise the bow to the height of your face, pointing towards the target in front but far from you, and your arrow pierces right in the middle of the yellow point of the objective.

Daryl smiles proudly, but decides not to get close when King Ezekiel approaches you. Instead, Daryl walks away from there and crosses the garden and some houses, while, near him, Richard keeps practicing in his own archery area, and watches Daryl as he approaches.

“I’m practicing. I have to start using these more.” He raises the bow close to his face, aiming towards the target, but the arrow hit the black point far from the center. “I know your wife can do much better.”

“She can.” Daryl says, and Richard turns to him.

“Morgan said you’re a bowman.” Richard takes the crossbow from the big box between them, holding a calm expression that Daryl doesn’t trust in, but he takes it, glancing at Richard with suspicion.

“Why?”

“Because we want the same things. And I need your help.”

He is talking about the saviors, Daryl knows it well, so he checks the weight of the crossbow in his hands before he lifts it close to his face, ready to shoot.

Daryl and Richard walk down the empty highway with green trees at the sides and a desolate view. The plan is to attack first, a surprise ambush that would cause a war between the Kingdom and the saviors, to then finally kill them to live safe. So they hide behind a big cargo truck by the side of the road, putting down their weapons and backpacks.

“They ride this road. If we see cars: it’s the saviors. They are coming in bands of 2 or 3. That’s why I need you. I can’t take them down alone.” Richard says. He kneels in front of his backpack, pulling the liquor bottles out of it. “We hit them with the guns first, then with the molotovs, and back to the guns until they are dead.”

“Why the fire?”

“It needs to look bad.” But Daryl doesn’t seem convinced, and walks around Richard with his crossbow in hand, forcing him with just a look to continue explaining himself. “The saviors who discovers what’s left…” Richard gets up and turns around to look at Daryl. “We want them to be angry. I left a trail from here to the weapons cache near to an open field that will take them… to a person who practices near here and that Ezekiel cares about.”

Daryl narrows his eyes, because he was too protective to let a person be exposed like that.

“Who’s that?”

“Just a person that will help.”

“Lives in the kingdom?”

“She practices out of there.”

Daryl stops himself.

“It’s a woman?”

Richard frowns, suddenly becoming impatient.

“What’s that matter? She got more balls than you and me together. She’s not gonna die, but when the saviors come and find their friends dead, they will follow the trail and go to the gun’s cache, then to the open field and they’ll try to attack this woman…”

Daryl frowns, growing impatient as well.

“What’s 'er name?”

“They won’t kill her, but that’s gonna show Ezekiel what he needs to do. He will see she was about to get hurt because of the saviors and just then he will fight.”

Richard’s betrayal begins to unfold in front of Daryl’s eyes, but he doesn’t like what he hears, and as a reflection, his hand tightens on the crossbow.

“'er name. What is it?”

“She is tough. She will live.”

The pieces of the puzzle begin to fit in and Daryl starts to have a complete view of Richard’s plan, but he doesn't want to act recklessly until he hears it with his own ears.

“Say 'er damn name!”

He needs to hear it to be sure. However, although his threatening look makes Richard almost surrender, he shows no fear, showing all his disinterest towards your life.

“(Y/N)”

Containing himself so as not to kill Richard at that very moment with a single arrow in his skull is the hardest thing Daryl ever did. But his body is shaking with anger; the blood on his veins freezes as he listens to that man and how he put his wife’s life in danger without remorse. As if your life is worth nothing, as if you didn’t have someone to defend you.

“Are ya fuckin’ crazy?” Daryl talks with a low, yet angry voice. “Ya jus’ dared to put in risk ma wife’s life jus’ ‘cause ya think she can handle a group of saviors?”

“You two told Ezekiel that anything had to be done to stop the saviors.”

Again, even when he has the chance, Daryl uses all his strength to not shoot an arrow in Richard’s face, and he walks around Richard to take his things before leaving that place.

“No.”

“She’ll live. Listen… this is how this has to happen. This is how we will get rid of the saviors. You two stayed in the kingdom for a reason: to prove to Ezekiel we can kill the savior. Together. So we can all have a future.”

“No!” Daryl passes him by, walking away from him.

“If we don’t do something people are gonna die!” Richard walks towards him and Daryl faces him. “People who wants to live!”

“Get the hell away from ma wife, ya hear me?”

Daryl gets close to him, looking straight into his eyes. Richard backs away, but hearing the roar of the cars that approaches in the distance attracts his attention. Daryl drops his backpack off his shoulder and holds his crossbow, watching the saviors’ path toward them coming down the hill.

There, Richard looks at Daryl.

“It’s them. We can wait for things to go bad, lose people, or we can do the hard thing…” He glances back at the saviors for a few seconds before looking at Daryl again. “Or choose our fates for ourselves.”

“No.”

Richard shrugs.

“Sorry.”

He turns around to carry out his plan with or without Daryl’s help, but Daryl drops his crossbow and takes Richard by the collar of his t-shirt to push him to the ground. He tries to fight back, but Daryl holds him with his own arm close to Richard’s neck, to then punch him, over and over until a river of blood descends from his nose to cover part of his face. Richard whines taking a canteen next to his face and hit Daryl, falling onto a side as both crawl on the ground to take their weapons to aim at their faces when they get up.

Richard breathes through his parted and broken lips and nods towards the saviors.

“There will be more. Or they will come back later, and we will have another chance. But we are running out of time. Your people need the kingdom to beat the saviors… We have to make sacrifices in one way or another. Guys like us… we’ve already lost so much.”

Daryl sees in his eyes the sadness for his loss, but that would never justify taking the life of another person to win that fight, not that way.

“Ya don’t know me.”

“I know that (Y/N) is stronger than us.”

To Richard’s surprise, Daryl lowers his crossbow, but the fierce look in his eyes is enough to make Richard take a step back.

“I’ll tell ya this jus’ once: If ma wife gets hurt, she dies, she catches a fever, she gets taken out by a walker, she gets hit by lighting, anythin’ happens to her, I’ll kill ya. Even if she jus’ gets a small cut in ‘er body, I’ll kill ya. So from now on: don’t talk to 'er, don’t look at 'er, don’t breathe near 'er. Fuck, don't even think about 'er.”

Richard holds his breath, looking at Daryl straight in his eyes.

“I would die for the kingdom.”

Daryl looks back at him, without any fear but with boiling anger.

“Why don’t ya?”

And then, he takes his backpack, his crossbow, and Daryl leaves.

When you turn off the lamp on the night table of your room, the light of the night comes in softly through the closed window, and you lay down sideways on your side of the bed as Daryl covers you with the blanket.

“Ya won’t take your clothes off?” He asks as he hugs you from behind.

“No…” You lie. “I’m cold.”

“I can help ya with that.” He says softly and moves to get closer to you. His arm hold you against him, giving you part of his warm. “Don’t worry ‘bout anythin’. No one ain’t gonna hurt ya. We’ll leave this place in a few days.”

You hold his hand on yours, waiting for him to fall sleep.

The anxiety and the fear inside you become one within you as the minutes pass in a dead silence. But suddenly, the world around you seems like a lie because everything is as quiet as if there were no walkers on the other side of the big gates, as if Richard hadn’t tried to hurt you without any remorse. Daryl told you because you already knew that something was happening and because he wanted you to stop going to that open field to practice. He couldn’t protect you without telling the truth. However, what hurt you the most is thinking how a life could mean nothing in the hands of other people: as if they had any rights over it. But the truth hits you hard too; because you did the same thing the first time you defended yourself from someone who tried to kill you for your weapon.

That didn’t make you a killer, too? Then, the guilt falls on you, the harsh reality of a murderer who tries to justifies a murder, just as Richard tried to do, just as you did. Everyone there, good or bad people were doing the same thing. Killing. Taking lives away. And you realized you couldn’t be part of all that. Not because you were weak but because you didn’t want to be the survivor that sees its friends die. And what if you die in the middle of the battle? Dying and causing pain to others, was that worth it? Or to stay alive but live in a constant pain? That life was like playing Russian roulette: none of you knew who could die or live, but all had to play. No exception. But you couldn’t stay and do it, so that night, you left before the game started.

That same night, you leave your backpack on the small bed and look around the place in that cold lonely night. It is a two-bedroom cabin. It is old, small but cozy, much better than a bed in the kingdom. This was a place you found days ago without telling anybody, not even Daryl. And as you lay down there, you hope that is the last time you start a new beginning far from killing, far from the fear of losing people, even if you had just lost your husband.

In the very early morning, near the garden of the Kingdom, a commotion catches Morgan and King Ezekiel’s attention. They run to the group of people who gathers around a fight, but no one is able to stop a wild Daryl, who is over Richard, punching him over and over until Morgan takes him by the arms and pulls him out of Richard before he could kill him. Daryl gets up and breathes hardly through his parted lips, watching Richard still on the ground and unable to move, or breathe.

“What is happening?!” Ezekiel asks, holding Richard and looking around. “Walk away, people. There is a lot to do today.”

The people listen, and Ezekiel glances at Daryl.

“Tell me right now why you did this.”

“That piece of shit did somethin’ to ma wife. She left!” Daryl is about to fall over Richard again, but Morgan holds him back. “I told him to stay away from ‘er!”

Ezekiel gets up leaving Richard on the ground, too weak to get himself up.

“What did Richard do to (Y/N)?”

Daryl looks at Ezekiel, not wanting to say what happened.

“Let him tell ya, I’ll go find ma wife.”

Daryl takes his crossbow from the ground and walks away with big steps towards the gates. Behind him, Morgan is following him.

“Daryl… Did (Y/N) leave a note?”

But he doesn’t stop.

“She wanted to get away from this fight. She doesn’t wanna see 'er friends being killed.”

“Because she knows that some of us could die.”

Daryl hates the way Morgan talks, like if Daryl didn’t understand that could happen. So, he turns around, giving Morgan a threatening look.

“Don’t talk to me like I was a damn child. Killin’ the saviors is the only way for me to make sure ma wife and friends will have a safe life.”

“Even if someone dies in the process?”

But Daryl doesn’t answer, and he yells at the man in charge of the gates to open it up. He walks out, completely sure he would find you sooner or later.

During a silent and almost deafening sunset, you walk through the forest near your house, with the quiver on your back and the bow in your hand, looking for some animal to eat. Everything is as it should be in the forest, everything there belongs to its place. Except you. But still listening to the birds sing in the long distance, you make your way until you find a squirrel that moves from here to there on the branch of a tree. You pull an arrow from the quiver; you connect it to the bow and lift it to the correct height close to your face, holding the air in your lungs. However, as a sudden sadness covers you because you couldn’t stop killing, another arrow flies close to you and sinks into the animal’s body.

You gasp in acknowledgment, so you turn around to see Daryl walking close to you, with your heart beating fast against your chest. He stops in front of you, looking at you through his head slightly down, just like he did when he was sad. He did that just with you, because just with you he was able to show how he truly felt, without feeling ashamed of feeling weak.

“This is the moment when you ask me why the hell I left you.” You say through the knot in your throat, but he just shakes his head softly.

“This is the moment when I say I missed ya.” He approaches you, almost afraid as if you are not real, and he puts his arms around you to embrace your waist, hiding his face in your neck, at the same time that you let go of the bow to feel him close to you. “I missed ya.”

As you sit down in your little bed, kicking your black boots off, Daryl leaves his backpack on the table in the middle of the room and looks inside for something. But before you know what it is, he throws it at you and you catch it perfectly. It is a peach, because he knows how much you like them. As you clean it against your clothes, Daryl sits in the chair that gives him a perfect view of you, resting his elbow against the wood, holding his chin in his hand.

“Explain it to me ‘cause I don’t get it.” He makes a gesture with his hand to point around the place. “I said I would protect ya. We were ‘bout to leave that place. But ya just walked away in the middle of the night… Why?”

His voice fill with disappointment pierces your ears, but you try to gather your ideas so that he understands your reasons.

“I’m tired. I’m afraid. And I don’t wanna see any of our friends being killed…and I realized I can’t neither. It’s too much to handle. I can kill, like, a person, and that’s what really scares me. I know they killed our friends, but this revenge, or justice, or whatever you want to call it: it will only endanger our people, and we will see more blood. And then we will have nightmares about their deaths, and we will not know what is worse: if sleep only to have nightmares about their deaths, or live awake in this real-life nightmare. I know I’m being selfish because they are willing to fight, but I can’t lose you or them.” You feel the tears in your eyes, but you rub your face with your hands to not let them fall right now. “I don’t want to be around if that happens.”

Daryl looks at you, rubbing his finger against his lip, trying to contain his own anger. He didn’t want to act like he used to, he didn’t want to yell at you for leaving him just the way you did. But that was hard for him too, it was too painful, almost impossible to bear the days he was without you, thinking that something bad could have happened to you because he couldn’t protect you. But right there, in front of you, he wants to tell you how scared he was when he didn’t find you by his side that morning, and that he couldn’t sleep the days after that.

“So what?” He says with a raspy voice. “What ‘bout me? I’m yer husband. Did ya think I’d jus’ sit there and do nothin’? That I would jus’ let ya get away from me? That was yer plan? Make me love ya and then leave me?”

Daryl was the strongest man, but the weakest too when it was about you. And you knew, that in that world or in the previous one, love was still a dangerous feeling, sometimes even more dangerous than a walker.

“That’s not true, Daryl: you know it.”

He laughs harshly.

“I realized I don’t know anythin’ about the woman I’m married to.”

“Ouch… That hurts.” You chuckle tiredly, then sighing until you found the right words. “I think it would be better if you get angry with me, if you kick the chair and tell me what I did wrong.”

Daryl takes a deep breath, trying to calm his wild heart.

“Nah. Ya are here with me now.” But, suddenly, he stands up, taking off his vest in his way to you, his gaze locked on yours as he begins to unbutton his shirt next. “But I think I need ya to learn your lesson in a different way.”

Your mouth is dry, and your own heart begins to beat at an alarming pace.

“Daryl… what are you doing?”

As he reaches the edge of the bed, he tosses his shirt aside, while, with the gentleness that didn’t usually characterize him on the outside, his thumb caresses your soft cheek, a warm contrast to his finger.

“Have ya ever been scared of me?”

Though he’s referring to that situation happening now in particular, you know he’s asking in general as well, if, perhaps, at some point in your marriage, you’ve seen him through different eyes. Perhaps with a fear reflected in them, a silent fear that would be overwhelming for him. But you shake your head, your gentle gaze on his ocean-colored eyes.

Daryl was a tender lover behind his tough appearance, and you were never scared, not by him.

“No. You know damn well I have not.”

“Not even once?”

His own doubt makes you smile a little bit.

“Not even once, Dixon, I know well you have a soft spot for me.”

“Hell yeah, woman, n’ only for ya.” He says, so serious like never before. “So if that’s true, lay down n’ lemme show ya how damn much I missed ya.”

You do as he tells you, your gaze on the wooden roof, feeling the knot in your stomach traveling to your lower part as he unbuttons and unzips your black jeans. It's torturously slow, but you know he's doing it as part of the lesson, because he's never denied you pleasure before. Since your marriage began, he was always a giver, taking your own pleasure as his own. It was like a rule for him to give you all the pleasure, and then give you a little more.

But when he removes all your clothes and his breath and his beard tickle your most sensitive area, your hands look blindly something to hold yourself onto, his long hair maybe, but he just pushes your hands away.

“No touchin’.” He says, dangerously low.

However, when his strong hands cling to your hips, his mouth sinking into you, you let out a tight gasp, your knees bending up. But the way he is moving against you as you move against him, too, makes him feel so needy for you, like he is in a beautiful hell. Your hands still in the air closed almost painfully, eyes closing too, arching your back, and mouth falling finally open.

“Daryl, wait–”

“Shut it.” He warns you, keeping his warm mouth close to your entrance. “Fuck, why ya always taste so damn good? Makes me wanna live in between your legs all the fuckin’ time.”

He wasn’t normally a very talkative person, but when Daryl was on the right mood he loved saying things that he knew would turn you on, leading you to the edge of being out of breath. He loved playing with you like he does again, his mouth kissing and licking and sucking, fingers holding onto the bones on your waist. The angry animal inside him woke up when you moan with open lips, sending a painful throbbing to the hardness in his pants.

He sucks hard on you, making you shake against him, holding yourself onto the blanket even when you want to hold his hair. But feeling you so needy for him, and only for him makes him feel about to explode, but he stops himself from lower one of his hand to his pants to stroke his manhood.

Daryl starts to feeling you moving against his face, and he takes pride that he could make you cum without being inside you, yet, because he’s not going to let you do that, hell no. No matter how much he enjoyed torturing you that way, he is ready to give you so much pleasure you wouldn’t think ever again about leaving him, no when he couldn’t live without you anymore.

So Daryl stands up, removing his hands from your body, giving you the time to catch some air as he unbuckles his belt, like the most erotic image in the world. His strong and naked chest rises and falls as he locks eyes with you, his mouth in a tight line as he removes his belt, not ready to smile even a little to you as you bite your own lips, hiding a smile.

“I will never be scared of you, but it scares me a little bit what is coming.”

He is kind of angry, but not with you, but with the idea of being a little bit animalistic, like to roll over onto your knees so he could hold himself on your hips, maybe even on your hair, pulling it just a little like he has done a few times when you two were getting playful.

“Ya should be.” He says, so low and dangerous as he unbuttons his pants. “Now take the rest of yer clothes off.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, sitting back down to pull off your black t-shirt, with nothing underneath. The complete view of your now naked body is such a temptation for him, so much that he thinks he would give up soon. But no, he’s stronger than that.

“Now lay back down, n’ spread your legs open for me.”

Fuck. You think that couldn’t get any hotter, but you know it could with that look in his deep gaze, so you lick your dry lip and look back at him as he kicks his boots off, taking off his pants and his boxer next, while, still sitting, you try to look up only, even when there is a whole spectacle at the level of your own gaze.

“Should I call you sir while I do that?” You smile sweetly at him, playing innocent.

And for the first time in the night, Daryl smiles back.

“I’m yer fuckin’ husband, peach, the same person that’s gonna make love to ya, maybe that way ya won’t leave me ever again. Now do as I tell ya.”

Though you can hear the sadness in his words, his voice doesn’t waver, not when he’s so ready to do what he promised, so with nothing else on your mind, you lay back down on the bed, spreading your legs as an invitation that Daryl immediately takes. He lays on top of you, and you can almost feel his own heartbeat as he sinks into you with one hand, while the other arm holds him up too close to your face. You feel him throbbing inside of you, and he holds himself on his legs, his free hand looking for the softness of your face to hold you there, kissing you deeply.

Your own hands hold his lower back, and this time, he lets you touch him freely. The warm of your fingers is melting him, but when he starts to move, he drowns your moans and his tense grunts in a kiss. His calloused hand grasps your face with a firmness but a sweet touch, as if you are a piece of glass, the most precious in the world, in his world.

Daryl never felt so primitive and he is too drunk with lust, but there is something intense and so erotic in the idea that he could push himself deeper into you, and that you would take everything and even beg for more. So he does, he presses into you deeper, harder than ever but not in a painful way because hurting you wasn’t in his nature, but he is taking you to the very edge in no time. You called out his name against his mouth as he starts moving faster against you, making you feel the tension building up on your stomach and in between your legs, so hot like hell itself, as intense as the beginning of the orgasm that is about to hit you soon if he keeps moving that way.

But it feels different from other times, short but in a new kind of intense. His thumb caresses your check, his forehead resting on your just a moment before he buries his face in your neck, the same finger sliding over your bottom lip, and that little action is so hot. The sounds he starts making against your neck are an arousing melody, sounds he muffles against your hair on his own path to much-needed release.

Your hands hold his lower back even harder, pulling him against you, your mouth against his shoulder, drowning out the forbidden sounds that come from between your lips, the view of the world fading as you close your eyes while letting out a hot cry as he makes you cum.

Finally, Daryl spills himself inside you, breathing through parted lips as he catches his breath.

After a long minute, or maybe two and when you can breathe again, you speak softly.

“I’m sorry, I never wanted to leave you alone, or make you think that I don't love you.”

Daryl raises his head, getting lost in the way you ask for his forgiveness with your eyes, too. But in that moment, he knows everything will be alright.

“So ya won’t leave me again?” He asks softly, but, too deep in your own sadness to speak properly, you just shake your head. “Good. ‘Cause ya got to know I’ll chase ya to the end of the fuckin’ world, burnin’ everythin' on ma way ‘till I find ya.”

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon

128 notes · View notes

faeryarchives · 11 months ago

Text

when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace trappola x f!reader)

summary: the rising streamer ace trappola has always been teased by his friends and fans about his failed relationships - that is until one certain stream where each and everyone of them were proven wrong.

note: ok i had this idea at 1 in the morning i was like 'hmmm what if we make a streamer series for twst?' and its just full of fluff and crack like no magic au + everyone is just normal

recent fics: happy birthday (malleus x reader) & so what are we? & in sickness and in health

it was around saturday midnight when everyone should be asleep, but ace trappola decided it was a good time to stream a horror game out of all possible games he could play with his friends. they all started as friends before starting the game but i fear he might have none after the stream.

"crabby, where are you~?" the sound of floyd humming through the mic sent shivers down the boy's back as he tried hiding from the hunter. "it's so funny to see floyd just have this tunnel vision to kill ace." jamil's smooth voice rang out, obviously amuse how the scene was unfolding.

"oh flooooyd! ace is hiding in the house with the telephone!"

"i hate all of you, after this game i am blocking everyone!" seeing him become the victim in the game and everyone turning on against him, his fans flood the live stream chat with laughing emojis and 'take the l'.

"ace, become a good bait while we fix the car." he heard ruggie and deuce laugh at his misery before their characters ran opposite his direction.

"okay who is the one that said floyd should be the hunter this round? hey, hey, hey! stop chasing after me- am i the only player in this game?! epel is right here!" in an act of desperation, ace tried to hide behind epel's character instead but only to receive massive damage when the attack hit him instead.

"eh... but guppy-chan isn't even trying to run away, which is boring!"

"wait, really?" he then stopped running. ace turned to face the hunter's character, trying to see if floyd would actually kill him, only to notice something wrong a little too late. "heh, gotcha," ace screamed into his mic, watching his character gets stuck in the tree and meet his demise as floyd split him into half literally. the words 'you died' appeared on the streamer's screen.

gloomurai: wow you are so great in this game 🤣

"i see you idia-senpai! it's not my fault they all turned against me!"

wani-sama🔧: it's your karma for selling them out to ruggie last game

"yeah, yeah... well, i'm always the last one to get caught, so this can be pretty relaxing." the streamer smirked as he watched from deuce's point of view where he is currently lost in the woods.

"i get to watch them die but knowing floyd he might quit mid-game." to used to being the first one out, ace sighed, switching from one point of view to another. bored ou of his mind, he looked at the corner of his screen, ace looked at the comments curiously as they try suggesting things.

muscle-red: why don't you do a q and a while waiting then?

"question and answer? don't you guys basically know me already?" ace looked at the screen intently, contemplating whether he should do it.

"fucking viper i swear!" suddenly someone joined the call causing ace to jump in surprised, only to realize it was ruggie.

"how did you die?"

"jamil betrayed me because we thought it was a four-seater car. it turns out it was only two!" hearing this, ace turned to jamil's point of view and snickered about how he and epel got chased by the sneaky eel. "welcome to the dead club."

as if he could imagine his senior rolling his eyes at his words, he smirked smugly - karma does bite back hard. "hardy har... what were you doing? i heard something about a question and answer?"

"chat wants me to have another q and a portion, what more do i have to tell you guys?"

cowabunga: how is the search for your beloved mwishxr: there is no use in asking that

"search for my beloved? hey!"

"shishishi! even your viewers are against you!"

it's a running joke in ace's community on how he was immediately dump by his ex girlfriend one week after dating. it wasn't like he wanted to share the story - he shared it as a batsu game after losing a round of uno. usually, when asked about his search for a girlfriend, ace would get all red and try to defend himself from the single until he became old allegations.

but today was surprising because not only did he not become all flustered and defensive - ace trappola looked smug even as he leaned his head into his palm and laughed.

"hmm, i wonder about that?" from behind, ace could hear approaching footsteps stopping next to him, and the live stream chat went wild and even ruggie who was looking at ace's stream right now watched with wide eyes as someone who was wearing the streamer's well-known sweater stood beside him.

"what the fuck?!"

gloomurai: ?!?!? muscle-red: what is with the sudden plot twist wani-sama🔧: WAIT wani-sama🔧: IS THAT-?!

"heya (nickname)~" ace hummed, turning his gaming chair facing your direction, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he grinned at you ever so cheekily. "you're late!"

"what are you five? i don't even know why you want me to come over." you rolled your eyes, trying to push him away playfully, only to run your fingers through his hair and chuckle.

seeing him lazily smiling at you causes you to succumb to your urge to pinch his cheeks - hard, making ace cry out in pain. before you could even ask another question, you saw something flash at the corner of your eye causing you to look at his monitor - realizing that he is still streaming. while holding onto you. and he not even on mute!

"this is all your plan, wasn't..." holding his face in your hands, ace could only laugh and nod, his hand quickly pulling you down, making you sit on his lap as he proudly present you to everyone. "as you can see, i am not hopeless anymore!"

wani-sama🔧: WHAT ARE YOU DOING SIS?!

"how is it possible i could hear sebek through the screen..." you sigh, leaning your back on ace and waved at the camera so casually as if the chat and ruggie weren't surprised at all.

"i just want to say to chat that ace didn't have my family in hostage." with you hand wrapped around his, you put up up and showed it to the camera. "and he is stuck with me."

hearing at just what you said made everyone in the chat go insane erupting into numerous emoji and something with the lines of 'oh my god he is not lying!' or just exclamation but nothing beats the reaction of your friends.

"(name) you settled for a guy like him?!" you could hear ruggie's surprised voice through your boyfriend's headset and honestly, you were contemplating if you would agree or just laugh it off.

"what can i say? sometimes, idiots have their charms."

jamil-viper: i can't believe you got (name) of all people... deuce-spade: oh thank god i don't have to keep it a secret anymore. wani-sama🔧: YOU KNEW?! epel-felmier: i think that's the effect of not our gc !!

the stream goes on with ace finally having his bragging rights and the twitter stans going crazy about the sudden girlfriend reveal. oh well, karma does hit back hard doesn't it?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #twst ace #faeryarchives #a.heartslabyul

251 notes · View notes

scorpiussage · 2 years ago

Text

In Your Eyes

Jackson Rippner x Reader - Oneshot

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Jackson finds himself more interested than usual when he has to kidnap you as bait for a hit.

Warnings: Smut, kidnapping, mentions of murder, a little non-con if you squint

Jackson doesn’t usually put much personal interest in his hits. He does whatever he needs to do and then he goes home.

That’s how he expects this mission to go, to just go through the motions and get his check at the end of it. But then he sees you for the first time.

Your pretty, smiling face is looking up at him from the file he’s been given on you. You’re the only daughter of a prominent politician and the apple of his eye. That’s why you’ve been flagged as being the perfect bait for this hit.

And you are pretty, with an earnest, innocent face. He’s intrigued like he hasn’t been before. Slapping the file closed, he sends out the confirmation text to his lackeys. It’s time to get this party started.

…

You come to slowly with a pounding headache and a deep ache in your wrists. Managing to lift your head you look around yourself with mounting panic. You’re in some windowless, concrete room and you’re tied down to a chair that’s been bolted to the floor.

The last thing you remember is getting ready for bed. You’d thought you’d heard something and before you could even turn around, a gloved hand holding a rag was slapping over your mouth. You were unconscious within minutes.

“H-hello?” You call out tentatively, your voice cracking with dehydration.

Things are silent for a bit before a door placed behind you opens up and the slow, confident steps of a so far unseen person make their way into the room. Making their way around you, the mysterious person comes into your view. Whoever this is, he’s handsome with stunning features that would serve him well if he decided to take up modeling.

He’s smirking down at you and those haunting eyes of his rake up and down your bound form.

“Where am I?” You finally ask, it comes out as a whisper as the full weight of your situation settles on your psyche.

“Not important,” the man replies while stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t have anything to give you, please let me go,” you plead; your eyes watering with fear.

“It’s not so much what you have,” the man says with a smile, “It’s more that you’re the only child of your father. No hard feelings, it’s just business.”

You break out into sobs while you tug desperately at your bound arms.

Crouching down, the man captures your chin in a bruising grip, “Quit crying. You’ll be leaving here alive. Eventually.”

He leaves after that, slamming the door behind himself.

…

The man comes and goes frequently. He doesn’t seem to be doing much other than coordinating via phone calls and text messages.

Feeling the bitterness of the situation, you bite out scathingly, “What are you, the goon?”

The man barks out a laugh at that and leans casually against the wall across from you, “Not the goon. I’m more of a project manager.”

You sneer at that, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

He watches you for a few moments before he says, “I’m Jackson.”

You stare at him incredulously, “Why the fuck would I care?”

Jackson just shrugs before making his way out of the room.

…

Jackson unties you to use the bathroom at one point. He’s surprisingly gentle as he rubs your raw wrists once they’re free. When he brings you back to the room, he doesn’t tie you up again and instead just lazily tells you to behave before leaving himself once more.

You wait one minute, then two, and once you’re certain he’s gone, you dart towards the door. Of course it’s locked but this is your only chance for freedom. You scratch at the lock desperately, your nails breaking against the metal.

It becomes obvious after a while that you’ll not get anywhere with this method and instead you tuck yourself against the wall and wait. Jackson is quite meticulous in his timed checks and he’s back again soon. You tense as you hear his footsteps echo down the concrete corridor outside your cell and you prepare yourself. As soon as he’s got the door open you’re making a mad dash past him.

He lets out a curse as you manage to shove him aside and once he’s recovered, he’s chasing after you. He’s so much taller than you and he catches up to you quickly, throwing himself atop you and tackling you to the ground. Wrestling with your flailing limbs, he finally pins you.

Jackson looks down at you with a feral grin, “Got you.”

Before you can reply, he’s surging forward and capturing your lips in a fiery kiss that has you gasping. Taking advantage, he forces his tongue into your mouth earning a strangled moan from you. He kisses like he’s been lost in the desert and you are the oasis that’s going to save his life. Almost unconsciously, you arch up into him and he grinds his hips down into yours.

Tearing away, he pants above you with his eyes so dilated that the icy blue is only a thin sliver.

“Are you going to behave now? Or am I going to have to get creative about how I tie you up?” There’s a definite innuendo tucked in those words because his hips tilt down again, his erection rubbing torturously against your core.

You contemplate your options, testing his hold on your wrists. He doesn’t relent even an inch and instead tightens his grip to a painful degree. Biting your lip to hold in your whimpers, you nod reluctantly.

Jackson leans down and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you again, but instead he nips at your ear and whispers huskily, “Good girl.”

A shudder passes through you that makes Jackson chuckle. He climbs off of you and looks down at you with a hooded stare as you curl in on yourself and rub your bruised, aching wrists.

“Get up,” He orders you, taking ahold of your upper arm roughly once you stand. He practically drags you back to your cell and shoves you into the room. He locks the door behind himself when he leaves and you slump dejectedly into the only chair.

…

Jackson returns later, making you wait longer than normal and the way he smirks at you when you jump makes you grind your teeth. He’s the most insufferable man you’ve ever met and you tell him as much out loud.

He just laughs and takes up his usual spot against the wall. He watches you as you watch him.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask.

He just shrugs, “Good money.”

He leaves at his usual time without saying anything more.

…

You turn in your chair to face the door when Jackson returns. However, what you see in his hand causes you jump up in fear. He’s holding a wicked looking knife and he’s got this crazed look in his eyes.

“You said that I’m not going to be killed,” you state as you rub your arms fretfully and back yourself as far away from him as you can. He follows after you slowly, circling you like a predator about to pounce.

“I can change my mind if I like. It’s the benefit of being your own boss,” he says while darting forward and wrapping you in a bruising hug that pins your arms to your side. You let out a screech and kick your legs out, but it’s useless and he just hauls you across the room.

He throws you down onto the floor and climbs on top of you. You manage to scratch him across the neck but it ends up being the only hit you get against him as he quickly subdues you just like he did in the hallway earlier. He had to abandon his knife to do it, though, so you count it as a victory.

It also seems that your scratching has riled him up even more than before because he starts attacking your neck with fervent, biting kisses.

He transfers one of your wrists to his other hand so that they’re both being pinned by the same one. This leaves him free to slip his hand up under your blouse, going right for your breasts.

He pulls away from your neck, panting, “Fuck.”

You’ve been on edge for hours, ever since he kissed you when you tried to escape. He must see this in your expression because a jackal grin stretches across his face and he yanks your shirt over your head, shoving your bra up along the way. He gives your right nipple a mean tweak that has you yelping and trying to wriggle away from him and he tuts at you.

“You masturbate with your curtains open,” he tells you while running his hands down your torso and working on the zip of your skirt, “And when you play with yourself, you always pinch your nipples.”

Blood rushes to your face in horror and embarrassment, “W-What?”

He’s methodical as he slowly works your skirt down your legs, leaving you in only your panties.

“I had so much fun watching you. I even put the job off an extra week because I wanted to see you more,” Jackson is shameless as he admits this to you, his fingers creeping up the inside of your thigh towards your core.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your panties and yanks those off of you as well, leaving you bare and soaked before him.

He stares down at you with a hooded gaze that makes your clit throb in anticipation. He doesn’t break that eye contact as he reaches down and unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He asks as he pulls his cock out, his hand pumping up and down the considerable length lazily. You nod shyly, your legs spreading almost unconsciously in invitation.

He smirks and descends onto you, capturing your mouth in another toe curling kiss.

You can’t resist chasing Jackson’s kisses, your body arching up and your legs wrapping around his waist. He breaks the kiss with a chuckle, “What is it you want, hm? Tell me what you need.”

Licking your bruised lips, you reply, “I want you.”

Grabbing your face roughly he tuts, “Not good enough.”

You take in a shaky breath, “I-I want you to fuck me.”

His face stretches into a sadistically pleased grin, “Good girl.”

Without warning he’s pushing into you.

Before you can make a noise, his hand is wrapping around your throat, squeezing tightly as he works himself into you, back and forth. It’s only when he’s fully seated, that he lets you gasp for breath, your eyes blurry with unshed tears.

“Fuck, you look so sexy like this,” he sets both his hands on your waist, getting his grip good and tight, and then he’s fucking you. It’s hard and fast and too much, but fuck it feels good. You haven’t been fucked like this in ages- ever really if you think about it. No one has ever come close to Jackson.

When you start to sneak your hand down your front towards your clit, he slaps you across your tits. You yelp and retreat, his smirk making you burn with rage and lust all at once.

“‘Spent weeks watching you,” he grunts out between thrusts, “‘Knew it’d be a missed opportunity if I didn’t fuck you.”

A bit of horror of your situation begins to creep back up your spine and you try to pull away from him. He doesn’t let you, though, and instead flips you onto your stomach, wrenching your hips up and pushing back into you at a bruising pace. He fits so much deeper like this, and your eyes roll back in your head in pleasure when he starts hitting that special spot inside of you.

Your moans are loud and embarrassing because he chuckles every time he gets a particularly strung out one.

“‘Think I oughta keep you like this. Just for me,” he rasps into your ear, his sweaty hair sticking to the back of your neck as he buries his face into your shoulder.

He wraps himself around you like a snake, his hips not stopping their relentless rhythm even once. You can feel his balls smacking against your clit as he drives harder and deeper into you.

“Are you going to cum for me?” He demands more than asks as he grips your face tightly in his hand, his other slipping down your body and finding your clit with unerring precision.

You can only nod dumbly and submit to him entirely as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever known washes over you. Jackson lets out a loud groan as your cunt squeezes around him tightly, milking him in the most delectable way.

You both lay there on the hard, concrete floor for a while, panting and shuddering through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“Yeah,” Jackson says, turning his head to look at you, “Definitely going to keep you.”

#jackson rippner #jackson rippner imagine #jackson rippner x reader #red eye #red eye movie #cillian murphy #jackson rippner x y/n #jackson rippner/reader #jackson rippner/y/n

862 notes · View notes

critter-genfic-events · 1 month ago

Text

Pop Pop! This week we have nine awesome fics focusing on one badass human monk, Beauregard Lionett! We’ve got drama and angst as well as chaos and humor, all of it well worth a read.

Check them out under the cut, and don’t forget to comment and kudos if you enjoyed them!

Lionheart by tfm (49068,Mature) Warnings: Child Abuse, Explicit violence, Usual Violence as in Canon Pairings: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha Nydoorin

AU where they are shifters, but Beau isn't and tries to fit in. Also, her family issues are pretty more serious here

Reccer says: The angst and how it focuses on Beau trying to be loved/useful by the Nein while not realising that they would all kill for her in a heartbeat. Also, it captures the character voices so well that at times it feels like the original campaign

Especially the Lies by operafloozy (7800,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Astrid Beck & Beauregard Lionett

Of the stories Astrid tells, and the truths Beau learns.

Reccer says: I love the way that the fic has Beau fight through the disappointment and keeps her integrity

Take Me Instead by Professor_Rye (4171,Teen) Warnings: human traffickers and claustrophobia Pairings: Beau & The Mighty Nein

The Nein are vigilante heroes in a Modern no Magic AU, going after human traffickers. Beau acts as bait, then regrets it

Reccer says: I liked it

The Heart External by BeatriceEagle (103670,Teen) Warnings: implied child abuse (including sexual abuse). Pairings: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast

From the author: "Six months ago, Beau adopted a teenager who loves the Cobalt Soul, but can't stand her. Ten minutes ago, Caleb accidentally summoned his own teenage self into his living room." (This is about half-Caleb-focused and also features OC kids pretty heavily. I do adore the Beau of it all, but I also would understand completely if you decided this doesn't fit what you're looking for!)

Reccer says: Incredible premise + exquisitely accurate characterization + pain + healing

bait your hook, lover by justlikeswitchblades (4566,Not Rated) Warnings: None Pairings: Fjord & Beauregard Lionett

Fjord and Beau have to pretend to be married for a Cobalt Soul undercover job.

Reccer says: Amazing premise with a fantastic twist at the end

so jump and i'm jumping (just a human) by phenomenology (11453,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Beau & Caleb

AU where Caleb couldn't get the collar off after the events of the Apogee Solstice. Beau and Caleb travel to safety on foot.

Reccer says: An amazing hurt/comfort adventure story - I love the sibling bond and trust between them.

counterweight by BeatriceEagle (17466,Teen) Warnings: Past sexual assault and torture, graphic depictions of violence Pairings: Astrid Beck & Beauregard Lionett

As Astrid struggles to share her story with Beauregard Lionett, a Volstrucker attack strands the two of them in the middle of the Pearlbow Wilderness, relying on each other to carry an abjured-asleep Caleb to safety. Well, it's one way to give a deposition.

Reccer says: I love the interplay between Beau and Astrid here - from Astrid's point of view, but so much of the focus is still on Beau, and how she's trying to get Astrid to trust her

“I… wait.” by TiamatZX (1000,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

While ascending the steps to the Throne Roost on Darktow Isle, Beau has a bit of a panic in wondering what to do about it. Takes place during 2x43, “In Hot Water”

Reccer says: I liked it

Stillness of Mind by TiamatZX (650,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Basically, what happens during 2x86, “The Cathedral”, when Obann tries to take control of Beau’s mind, and how she breaks free from it.

Reccer says: I just love “The Cathedral” and any stories tied to it, as it’s my favorite Campaign 2 episode.

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

We'll be back on the fifteenth with One Shots, followed in December by fics focusing on Imogen, and then character studies after that!

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit! If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!

#critter genfic rec lists #critical role #beauregard lionett #the mighty nein #cr fan fic #gen fic

22 notes · View notes

starwarsmum · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 5 of Introducing: Mousinette!

The next time Damian saw Marinette, Grayson and Gordon had dragged him to a tour of his new campus. It had been a fairly uneventful morning, Grayson had felt it necessary to show him around the university, as though he hadn't visited already.

“You did not mention that you were planning to attend Gotham University,” he said, attempting small talk. He felt the discomfort cloak him like a second skin, his arms stiff, jaw locked. When she gave only a noncommittal noise, he tried again. “What course are you planning on studying?”

“I'm sorry, did I land in an alternate universe?” Marinette said, shooting an incredulous look his way. “Because I seem to remember you being kind of an asshole at dinner the other night.”

“Tt, I said you were behaving like a child, which you were,” Damian responded. If he was a cat, his hackles would be raised and he would be yowling, low in his throat. He watched Marinette bristle, pleased, for some reason, that he was able to rile her so quickly. “If you do not wish to be perceived as a child, perhaps you should act your age more than your height.”

“And perhaps you should act more your age than a pompous, stuck up-” she was cut off by Gordon approaching, chatting with Grayson as he pushed her along. He watched her visibly take a deep breath and push down whatever she had been about to say, before looking at him flatly. “I'm planning on studying business,” she said in a monotone.

That surprised him, but he was spared from responding by Gordon and Grayson beginning a more animated conversation about the dorms. He watched her giggle effortlessly, charming them both as they approached the business school section of the university.

“Dames, have you seen the dorms? They're so cool, are you sure you don't want to stay here instead of the manor?” Damian gave Grayson a look of incredulity, before turning away with a derisive snort. “What? It's not like you'd be alone, Marinette's planning on staying in the dorms!”

“Dick, please don't try to convince him to stay in the dorms,” Marinette pleaded, shooting Damian a sceptical look. “Besides, I'm pretty sure Mr Rich Boy couldn't handle one week in the dorms. He strikes me as the hapless sort - has he ever even made a meal?”

“Tt, as if it is difficult. Regardless, the idea of residing in these dormitories sounds a specific sort of torture and I shall not be subjecting myself to it.” He refused to be baited by the little witch - he had no need to learn to cook, and she would not taunt him into proving her wrong.

Marinette gave him a fierce glare but allowed him to have the last word, which made him unreasonably annoyed. He was even more annoyed when she started to ignore him, just as she had that night at the manor. It changed when Jagged Stone arrived with Penny Rolling and they managed to abscond with Grayson and Gordon.

Things continued in a strained way, Marinette shutting down any attempt at conversation, often walking away from him to view the different departments on display for the day. Eventually, he allowed himself to trail along behind her, keeping a slight distance but close enough that the others could find them both easily.

She had vanished around a corner when he let the gap grow slightly, and he sighed, annoyed. He became slightly concerned when he didn't immediately spy her, but huffed in annoyance once more when he saw her flirting with another attendee. He had blond hair, an athletic build and was only a couple of inches taller than her. He decided to approach, if only so he could taunt her with it later.

“...just hope you aren't in any of my classes in the fall, I'd never get any work done,” the boy was saying. Damian rolled his eyes, slowing slightly so as not to draw attention to himself. “But maybe we'll end up in the same dorm and we could-”

“Thank you for the compliment, but I'm afraid I am not interested, Monsieur,” came Marinette's reply, which made Damian pause. He glanced at her face and she still had a smile in place, but perhaps he had mistaken annoyance for attraction. “Please can you move so I may get back to my friends.”

“Ooh, French, that's hot,” came the smarmy reply, plainly not listening to her. “I bet you could teach me a thing or two about kissing.”

“Look, I have tried to say no politely, but you don't seem to be getting it,” Marinette said flatly, putting a hand on his shoulder to push him out of the way. Damian watched, fascinated by the shift in her demeanor. “And the only kissing I would be willing to teach you, is to kiss the asphalt.” and she pushed his shoulder, hard enough that he took a step back. Which is when he reached out and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.

“What the hell, bitch? Think you're too good for an American, huh? Or maybe you don't know how to be polite when someone is being nice to you,” he said, pulling her back sharply and making her yelp. Damian didn't hesitate, taking hold of the other boys forearm. “And who the hell do you think you are?”

“I think I am one of her companions today, and that you need to learn what ‘no’ means. Both the word and contextual cues, as she gave you both and you ignored them. Let go of her, before I force you to,” Damian said haughtily, releasing his grip when Marinette was free. He watched the other boy beat a hasty retreat before turning back to her.

“I had that handled,” she said immediately, narrowing her eyes at him. “I did not need you swooping in, like a bat and sticking your nose in. And I don't appreciate you laughing at me,” she scowled when he lifted an amused eyebrow at her accidental joke.

He watched her stalk away, impressed in spite of himself. She probably could have taken care of it herself, and he wouldn't normally have stepped in, except that she had been grabbed, and made an involuntary noise, so he had moved. Spotting Grayson and Gordon, he started after her, vowing not to get involved unless she asked for help in future.

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully, although Damian found his gaze drawn more and more to the fiery Parisian. She had seemed empty-headed and childish when he met her, but he was being forced to reconsider his evaluation of her the more he knew her.

He found himself hoping that she would be attending the university later that year, if only so he could add more to the growing list of idiosyncrasies he had made note of about her.

#maribat #damianette #daminette #dc x mlb #damian x marinette #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #mlb x dc #introducing: mousinette #chapter 5 #damian chatches some feelings #marinette is queen of not letting go of bad first impressions

22 notes · View notes

sumeruin · 1 year ago

Text

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

♫♪: pairing: pantalone x secretary! reader

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, noncon/dubcon, was written to be yandere but could be read without, power imbalance, pet play, lots and lots of cum play, like seriously this is mostly cum play read at your own risk, collaring (but not the actual proper kind), slight blackmail, humiliation, brief exhibitionism, lingerie, i think that’s it, but if i missed anything please let me know!!

♫♪: a/n: part two to this drabble from a while ago!!

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

this is absolutely humiliating.

you thought you’d be able to handle it, a 10% raise on top of your already obscenely high salary for a secretary would give you enough money to move out of your apartment and get a house, maybe even in one of the nicer parts of snezhnaya, and you figured he’d be at least a little bit nicer since you were cooperative.

oh how wrong you were.

you hadn’t realized how much pantalone would enjoy prolonging your torment. every morning when you get to work ever since you agreed to the uniform change, he’s made you strip out of all your clothes, (in front of him, of course, because, as he so eloquently put it, your body already belongs to him, of course he’d want to watch his property change.) put on the skimpiest, most humiliating lingerie, kneel in front of him while he attaches your leash to your collar, and sit perfectly still while he cums all over your face, multiple times, usually, unless he’s feeling particularly merciful.

he never lets you take off the collar, either. not that you could if he did, there’s a lock on it and you watched him destroy the only key after he placed it on you. today, he seems to be feeling especially cruel, the lingerie he picked out for you is much more revealing than usual, and he decided to cum on your face three times this morning, forcing you to wear a huge amount of his release for the entire day. he chose a set today, with dark blue, see through lace over the entire thing and some leather straps that dig uncomfortably into your skin.

the worst part, though, is definitely the panties. even ignoring the fact that they’re completely see through, only covered by very thin lace, they’re crotchless, and pantalone has taken to randomly pressing this buzzing device he got from fontaine against your clit when you’re walking past him. well, he doesn’t let you walk anymore, good pets only crawl, but you don’t really have any room to protest.

today, he seems to be enjoying humiliating you a little more than usual, he’s been making you kneel on the ground next to his desk with your legs spread for the last two hours, giving anyone who opens the door a perfect view of just how depraved he’s made you look. and oh, do people open the door. he’s been ordering anyone who he has superiority over to come to his office. he even made all his recruits do their reports in his office instead of at the training ground like usual, just so that he can torment you even more. you’re just grateful he at least gave you the mercy of a cushion to kneel on, your knees definitely wouldn’t have been able to take kneeling on his hardwood floors for this long.

you’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts by pantalone’s voice, dripping with amusement and condescension and oh so mocking. he gives your leash a little tug as he speaks, effectively pulling you closer to him by the neck, and once you take the hint and crawl over to him, he grips your chin, chuckling quietly to himself at your appearance as he tilts your head side to side, thoroughly examining you. “well, my dear, how do you like your uniform? i can’t imagine that much cum is comfortable to wear on your face, especially when it’s dried like this…”

you know better than to agree with him, he’s baiting you, trying to get you to complain about your uniform so that he has an excuse to punish you. you fell for it the first couple times, but you’re slowly learning his manipulative ways. your voice rings out, so sweet and clear, knowing that he can’t stand it when you mumble. “it’s not an issue, sir.”

pantalone raises an eyebrow, smirking at you as he coos softly, his hand that isn’t holding your chin moving to stroke your hair. “aw, is that so? do you enjoy wearing my cum on your face, my dear?”

you pause a little at that. it’s obviously a trick question, your only options are to tell him that you don’t and risk being punished, or tell him that you do and risk him trying to make things worse for you. you only have one option, really, you can’t take another one of his punishments, so you speak, swallowing a little bit as embarrassment floods your body. “yes, sir, i enjoy it.”

he gets this gleam in his eyes, and you feel dread slowly clawing it’s way up your spine. he only ever looks like that when he’s planning something terrible.

“that’s good to know, darling… if you enjoy it so much, why don’t i give you more then?” he pauses, letting out a small laugh as he sees the mess he’s already made of your face. “though, i’m afraid there isn’t much room on your face… ah, i know, why don’t you tell me where you want more of my cum, dear? you surely must have a few ideas, since you enjoy it so.” he tilts his head to the side, giving you that he always does when he knows he’s won.

you gulp, thinking for a minute before you settle on your hands. it’s not like you use them for much at work anyways, and it’s a much better option than anything else. “u-um… i’d like your cum on my hands, please, sir.” you pray he can’t tell how reluctant you are as you speak, trying your hardest to mask the dread in your voice.

pantalone gives you a mocking smile, his voice so condescending when he speaks, talking down to you like a dog. “oh? you’d like to have my cum on your hands, would you? i suppose that would work… though you’ll have to clean up any mess you make, of course.” he gives your leash another tug, pulling you in between his legs as he slowly pulls his cock out. “now, pet, cup your hands underneath the tip. and why don’t you give it a kiss, hm?”

you reluctantly oblige, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his hard cock, cringing just barely when his precum coats your lips. luckily for you, he doesn’t seem to notice your slip up, too busy loosing himself in the feel of your soft lips on such a sensitive area. he sighs with pleasure, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair as he brings his other one down to stroke his cock, keeping his eyes locked on you the entire time. he’s quickly approaching his peak, and he speaks just before he cums. “beg me for it. beg me to cum on you, pet.”

you feel your humiliation and shame rising yet again, but you know you have no choice when his grip in your hair tightens ever so slightly. you take a deep breath, and then you speak, begging him so obediently, making sure you put some faux enthusiasm into your voice. “please, sir, please cum on me, i w-want it so badly, i n-need your cum, please, sir!”

with a loud, and as much as you hate to admit it? pretty sounding moan, pantalone finally cums. though, only some of it ends up in your cupped hands, most of it shoots out uncontrollably and coats your chest and stomach, the warm liquid covering you thoroughly as you cringe internally at the feeling. he sighs, leaning back in his chair as he grips your leash once again, his hand falling from your hair as he puts his cock away.

he pulls your leash taut, lifting up your body by your neck as he forces you to stand in front of him, his head getting closer to your ear as he leans in, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he speaks words that only serve to make your embarrassment worse, proving that you weren’t fooling him one bit with your little act.

“thank you for humoring me, dear. i know how unenjoyable you find the feeling of my cum.”

♫♪: tags: @mirangel, @drooluwu

#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ angel’s creations ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎#yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #pantalone smut #yandere pantalone x reader #yandere pantalone #pantalone x reader smut

238 notes · View notes

trainwreckgenerator · 2 years ago

Note

Hi there! I just came across one of your comics dealing with your own self-image and T and I saw in the comments, one of your replies saying that you shouldn't have a singular self-image and that you should think about yourself the way you view others. I was just wondering if you could elaborate on the singular self-image idea more. I'm not trying to bait you or anything I'm just interested because I've been trying to make decisions about going on T and how I want to present myself and I didn't realize I could be thinking about it in unhealthy ways.

sure! so the big pitfall with any kind of appearance-altering procedure, especially one that takes place over such a long timeframe as HRT, is going into it with an image in your head of exactly what you'll look like by the end of it.

just like with teen puberty or aging, there is no real way of knowing precicely what you'll look like after a year, after 5 years, after 10 years on hrt. think back to being in highschool: for some people, puberty changed their whole body until they looked like totally new people. for others, it just slapped some boobs or a beard on them and called it a day. my puberty as a teen made my nose bigger! i dont know why! hrt can have similarly unexpected effects.

holding on to a detailed, idealised version of what you want to look like by the end of hrt is likely to set you up for disappointment when it gives you changes different to, or less extreme than, what you were hoping for. there are some things that are more guaranteed - like a deepening voice on T - but not everybody is going to come away with a full beard, or reduced cheek fat. there are cis men out there with round, smooth faces! hormones are unpredictable for everybody.

so, ive been trying to encourage myself to instead consider the possible changes in a vague, agglomerative way - for instance, there's a lower and upper limit to the quantity of facial hair i would consider ideal, but ive stopped picturing my future face with a highly specific hair distribution, because chances are im going to get something not quite like that, and i dont want to be bummed out about it, i want to be able to appreciate what i get when i get it.

as some people have pointed out, you can sort of predict what hrt will do to you by looking at the men and women you're closely related to and seeing if there seem to be genetic trends cropping up. chances are, hrt will do to you the same thing puberty did to your relatives. the men in either side of my family aren't tall, so im not expecting my bones to change much, but they do tend to have defined jawlines, so my hopes are high for facial fat redistribution - but again, that's only a chance, not a guarantee.

ultimately, deciding whether to go on hrt should be based on whether you want to move your appearance "in the direction of" the changes hrt can bring about - if you look at the list of changes and think "yeah i really want some or all of these, to varying degrees; and the ones i dont want, i wouldnt really mind that much", then hrt is probably a good idea.

but if youre thinking "i have an exact future body i want to achieve, and hrt could give me this body, but if it gives me a different body i will feel terrible", then either hrt isn't for you, or you need to step away and do some self-reflecting before commiting to the process.

this post is already super long but i will add one last bit of advice if you're still not sure: with some forms of hrt, you can deliberately choose a very low dose, so that changes come about much more slowly - making it much easier to notice if a change you don't like is happening, giving you the option to back out. in the early stages, many hrt effects are reversible, including fat redistrubution and hair loss. (note that voice deepening and new facial/body hair growth are not reversible, unless you undertake more surgery to reverse it.) (infertility is sometimes reversible but its complicated. if you plan on having kids do extra research specifically on that)

#rambles #hrt #long post

42 notes · View notes

kitkatopinions · 2 years ago

Text

Thought I was done, but I have more to say: This isn't directed at anyone in particular, please don't use this as an excuse to send anons or blame people or anything

I think a problem in the discussion about Blake's bisexuality is that some people are viewing her like she is a real person who stands on her own, and other people (like me) are viewing her as a fictional character and seeing the writing surrounding her as part of a bigger whole for queer rep in media.

I (as a real person) am a bisexual woman who doesn't have to prove that I (as a real person) am bisexual, and anyone asking for receipts on my (a real person's) bisexuality or telling me (a real person) that if I'm not out to everyone then I am not bisexual is being biphobic because my sexuality should be believed and no one gets to grill me for details or proof. This is because I am real, no one is writing dialogue for me, and if I felt like I didn't want to be open about my sexuality irl, it's because of the wide history of bigotry that directly affects me as a bi woman. Someone pointing to a straight couple holding hands and saying "they've been openly straight for ages, what's taking you so long" would be fucking messed up. Because I am a real person.

But Blake is not a real person, she is a collection of pixels, she's a puppet that gets moved without her consent (because she isn't real,) and the words she speaks and the things she does are not because she wants to do or say things but because she's being controlled by the people that made her (because she isn't real.) She as a person does not ~~choose~~ to do things or say things or be things any more than my bratz dolls ~~chose~~ to be secret agents or ~~chose~~ to get a haircut when I wanted to cut off their hair. I love fictional characters, I make headcanons about them, I even care about them, but they don't have feelings. They don't get a say. They aren't queer or cishet because they are, and because they were born like that the way that I am, characters are only queer or cishet when the writers that control the show decide they are. They're tools used to tell stories that are sold to people, and they can't wholly be separated from the history of queer representation (or the lack thereof) in media, they can't be separated from the beliefs and histories of their writers (I.E. when a main creator and writer like Miles Luna has a history of biphobia and misogyny he has never apologized for and was a RT higher up for years and years when RT is a horrifically bigoted company, that affects what he writers and how people will perceive his actions.) Because the characters aren't real people. And they can't be given labels like ~~canon confirmed queer~~ just because the writers tweeted it or because they've shown interest without confirmation. Queer coding and queer baiting are terms used by queer people NOT BECAUSE we wouldn't believe someone in real life isn't queer just because they (as real people) only hold hands instead of kiss but because we know that characters being openly explicitly queer was and still is something that's considered taboo and 'too far' and 'not family friendly' and 'shoving queerness down people's throats,' and so oftentimes queer characters are left to be coded and not made explicit because of that and only in recent years are queer people sometimes but not often seen and represented as clearly explicitly openly queer. Blake is a fictional character who fits into a category made by real queer people to discuss fictional characters that are written to do things that come across as queer and feel queer but are not explicitly openly queer. The RW/BY writers have yet to make her queer feelings (that they write to have) and actions (that they write her to take) explicit or overt, therefore she is queer coded. And before anyone says 'the writers/VAs say she's queer outside of the main show, that makes her just about as canon confirmed as Dumbledore was a decade ago and I don't consider that canon confirmed at all, I consider that weak. This doesn't mean that I (a real person) don't see Blake (a fictional character) as queer personally, it just means that her queerness is coded rather than confirmed. She isn't a real person who just isn't out, she's a fictional character who hasn't been confirmed.

Like, let's use writing for women as a quick but not perfect comparison. Let's say there's a show with around ten main characters and most of them are men and two of them are women, and the women characters (who are incredibly outnumbered by the large amount of male characters anyway) aren't ever written to stand up for themselves or achieve anything cool while meanwhile the male characters often are at least trying and standing up for themselves. And imagine women made posts about that saying 'it really bothers me that these women characters are being written this way' and then another woman got angry at them for 'trying to make women do things they didn't want to do,' or 'wanting women to do everything' or said 'in real life if a woman doesn't stand up for herself or make any grand achievements that doesn't mean she isn't still a good woman." It's like... No, these characters are fictional and there are standards for 'good representation' that some women have where the bar is above what those writers chose to produce due to the bigoted ways women characters have been neglected at best for ages.

Terms like 'queer coding' and 'queer confirmation' are specific for a reason, they're tools, they're used by queer people to talk about the level of representation we're allowed to have or that we're given because of how we've been under-represented in media or given scraps and told to be happy with it while we can't watch ANYTHING without having opposite-sex relationships that are open and explicit. It's straight up upsetting to hear people say that bi women are biphobic for even pointing out when the media we're given doesn't contain explicit representation.

Blake is not a real person. She is a tool used to tell a story. And so far the story that she's been used to tell has not included overt, open, explicit queerness, it has only been used to be coded. If people are happy with that, great. If other people feel represented by that, great. If other people see her as queer even though it hasn't been made explicit, great and same. But it is not harmful for queer people and specifically bi women to say we want more and to say that we're tired of seeing the writers specifically go ten years without ever giving canon confirmed representation when I've dealt with that for ages over and over while we've had to see endless opposite-sex characters get treated with much more clarity - and we especially don't have to give the benefit of the doubt to Miles fucking Luna and Rooster Teeth and say 'the writers are probably just writing a slow-burn, they definitely aren't purposefully giving themselves plausible deniability.'

#rwde #anti rwby #anti rooster teeth

41 notes · View notes

confusedspaceotter · 2 years ago

Text

Daily avatrice analysis (day 6)

day1 day2 day3 day4 day5 day6 day7 day8 day9

*takes a deep breath* Oh god here we go

Ep 8 pt 2

Edit: originally I basically told the internt my life story but I've decided to create a separate post instead: here's the link

Now on the the actual analysis itself now that we are done being emotional

Here we have avatrcie reading each other's minds

Well more like Bea understood that if she wanted to help Ava figure out what she really wanted to say

The best way to do it is to directly ask her

And here the little smirk from our dearest Avatrice captain Camila

Girl knows what she’s doing

Also if she had read sister Melanie’s entry does that mean Camila also knows French??

Well at least fluent enough the read the entry

Damn is Camila our secret multilingual queen??

Anway moving on

Most people think that the moment Camila handed the journal to Bea, she took one look at it and she immediately knew Camila was trying to encourage her to come out to Ava?

I actually think here is where she found out sister Melanie is gay

Assuming Bea didn’t flip though the entry off camera

Here we can see that she flip to another page then answer Ava, telling her Sister Melanie is gay

Meaning this information was not on the page where Camila left it open for Bea

And this is a moment Bea realised what Camila is trying to encourage her to do

Look at how she took a breath before she said Lesbich

I think this is where Bea started to see herself in Sister Melanie’s shoes

(Kinda like how when I see this scene and feel oh shit this is me)

And also I think that since she is putting herself in the story, it is remind her how she was treated as well

That why at the end of the entry

When she read the line “I felt unbound.Unburdened.I felt finally myself.”

You can see her voice cracking subtly

Because this is what she secretly wants too

To feel unbound by her parents

Unburdened of the responsibilities in life

(In her case is whatever she was forced to be as a daughter of diplomats)

And to feel herself

Just Beatrice

And that’s just fucking relatable

Here you can see Bea trying to salvage whatever composure she had left but then Ava basically asks if she is okay and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore

Bea then kinda got “mad” at Ava

But is more like a defense mechanism

I bet she had this kind of conversation about her sexuality before and it definitely did not end well

So everything this topic came up she got defensive about it

Which is understandable

Bea’s I’m sorry is more about her feeling bad for her sudden outburst of emotions and sorry that Ava was there to witness it

But I think she feel sorry that she is essentially coming to her because she view her sexuality as a burden rather than just part of her

And Ava’s I’m sorry is her feeling bad seeing Bea crying plus I feel think those nuns at the orphanage would often made her apologize for something that’s not her fault so it could be a reflexive response

And here’s comes one of the best lines in the show

Along with this fucking smile

The pain and sadness in her eyes turned into feeling grateful and full of love the moment she saw Ava

This right there ladies and gentlemen

Is where Bea had her oh shit I’m in love moment

Because hearing Ava’s response she realized she finally met the one person who would be happy for who she is

And will embrace her fully

And they say Avatrice is queer baiting smh

Here we can see local gay nun gets accepted once and decide to ride of die with them

Not but seriously no way in hell that “us” means us here

I’m certain is just Bea’s fear that’s stopping her from saying me

And the “you mean that?” By Ava?

Baby girl get genuine care for once and she is hooked

But it doesn’t stop the voiced in her head telling her this is not real she is lying so Ava asked for confirmation

Which Bea will gladly replied with “you know I do”

Finally we have the not kiss scene

My thoughts on this can be summarized by this gif:

we move on to ep 9 tmr

btw i was thinking taking a short break after i'm done with s1 cause i have actual deadlines this week soooo

stay tuned for more:)

day7

#daily avatrice analysis #pushing 2k words today wtf #I dont think this is what my psychiatrist meant by“try to be more outgoing and reach out to people”#oh well oversharing is very nd of me #kinda scary ngl exposing myself on the internet but if somehow someone needed to hear this then i guess is cool if it helps people #warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #theres got to be a typo somehow

37 notes · View notes

imurasakaw · 2 years ago

Text

first impressions

redstarling, 1.9k, set a little over 5 years ago. pre-relationship.

•••••••

When Jodie found Special Agent Akai, he was, as the Special Agent in Charge had blithely suggested with a wave of his hand, in the break room, smoking.

“You’re not supposed to smoke in here,” she said, feeling the irritation rising, her patience already frayed from a rankling encounter minutes ago out in the office area.

Agent Akai looked up from his phone, cigarette dangling from his lips, nonplussed. He was slouched against the wall next to the trash can. And as Jodie got a better look at him, she grew even more unimpressed. Long hair that came down just past the shoulders—against regulations. A well-worn leather jacket with some noticeable scuffs and tears—dress code violation. As for the smudges of almost bruised-looking shadows and sunken bags under his eyes, she uncharitably decided were likely due to late nights spent smoking and drinking himself into a stupor at a pub. She knew the type; she grew up around the type.

No wonder the SAC asked her to come fetch him—she might have a glowing recommendation from Assistant Special Agent in Charge James Black, but she was still just a probationary agent, and newbies got crap detail. And this man? This man appeared to be a real piece of work. She couldn’t believe someone like this was an FBI agent. She couldn’t believe someone like this could remain an FBI agent.

He hadn’t said a thing since she entered the room, eyeing her in silence instead. She shook her head to herself, and proceeded with what she was sent to do. “Special Agent Akai? The Special Agent in Charge is requesting you in his office,” she announced, putting her hands on her hips, trying to project authority. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your presence.”

The man tilted his head ever so slightly. “Who are you?” he asked.

Jodie took a quelling breath before replying. “I am Special Agent Jodie Starling. I’ve just been assigned here to the New York Field Office today.”

“Ho…” Akai dragged out the single syllable into an idiosyncratic expression of emotion that was, objectively speaking, neutral in tone, yet Jodie couldn’t help but sense a hint of derision. “You’re the new probie?”

She bristled at the belittling moniker, but bore it. It wasn't the first time and until she proved herself to everyone else in the office, it wouldn’t be the last; she knew that. “Yes.”

“How old are you?”

She frowned and crossed her arms, not liking where this was headed. “I don’t see how that is related to the issue at hand, or any of your business.”

“You seem young for this position. That’s all.”

This time, Jodie had to physically swallow down the defensive flare of temper that threatened to disrupt the evenness of her voice. In her mind, she heard all the insinuations that weren't being said. How did someone like you get this position? What connections do you have? Who did you have to bribe or fuck? “I assure you, they would not have assigned me to the Violent Crimes Unit of New York City had I not been qualified.”

Akai’s expressionless, studying gaze did not waver, and as Jodie stared right back, she was beginning to feel as though it was a competition, or perhaps a test, and she did not like it, not from this man who looked like he should model the “Before” picture of an agent rehabilitation program’s brochure.

Finally, just as Jodie had about had enough, Akai seemed to come to some conclusion within his own head, chin dipping in the slightest hint of a nod. “Can I call you Jodie?”

“You may call me Special Agent Starling,” Jodie snapped.

The corners of his lips ticked up, ever so faintly, and the realization hit Jodie that he was probably just trying to get a reaction out of her. It made her feel even worse, because she had met no shortage of men like that, had encountered a group of men like that just minutes ago, her new colleagues. Men who would never view her as their equal in competence and ability, who would bait and provoke and taunt just to see her lose her cool—and she had just lost this round with this Agent Akai.

And now that the root of anger and humiliation had taken hold, it was even harder to keep it in check.

“Well, if you’ve had your fun,” she forced, hearing the bitter tremor in her own voice and feeling the rising sting of indignation clog her throat with heat, “are you capable of following orders, or do I have to report back that Special Agent Akai could not be bothered to part from his nicotine fix?”

She took some measure of satisfaction at seeing Akai blink, his self-possessed composure disrupted for all but a second.

He paused to consider his next words. “I had not meant to insult you,” he said, almost carefully.

How farcical. “Hadn’t you?” Her words were clipped—as far as she saw it, he had not done anything to deserve courtesy.

His brows twitched in displeasure.

“You can go tell the SAC, then,” he said, looking away, “that I will be there soon”—he took another drag on his cigarette, and smoke furled out alongside his next blasé words—“if he has anything new to say to me this time.”

And what she did then—she knew it was rude, beyond rude—but slapped in the face with that man’s flippancy and his flagrant insubordination against a superior’s demand that would’ve gotten most disciplined if not fired, her self control splintered.

She strode forward in four brisk steps and yanked the lit cigarette from his mouth.

She would later learn that, at that time, Akai had just come off of a three-month-long deep undercover stint in a local crime ring, and that it was with an adamantine force of will that he managed to smother a reflex for violence into a barely-there flinch, but in that moment, she attributed his lack of response as yet another sign of either his ineptitude or his total disdain for her. The flicker of surprise in his eyes had been quickly suppressed, and he regarded her now with stony composure, as though an adult rebuking a wild, recalcitrant child: What do you think you’re doing? His hand that had been raised to his mouth, now empty, fell slowly into a crossed-arm position across his chest.

“You…” She wanted to scream. Am I not enough for any of you to even take me seriously? Is a child all you’ll treat me as?

Then, a more sombering thought struck: Is that all I am acting like? A child? Throwing a tantrum because she isn’t being noticed?

The cigarette in her hand kept burning in the severe silence—until the lit end finally singed her skin.

The sudden pain wrenched her fully back to reality.

“I—” she began, the steam of her anger lost, a train sputtering to a stop. She took one step backwards. The cigarette lay on the linoleum floor between them, where she had dropped it in shock. “Agent Akai, I apologize,” she made herself say, face hot with shame. “My actions just now were totally out of line.”

Her father had always told her, ever since she could remember, to not let anyone tread all over her; however, he had also taught her that, when the injury was not grievous, a noble person knew to turn the other cheek. And, divested of her father’s presence so early in her life, she had tried hence to cling hard onto every word, every doctrine, his teachings all the more precious for its scarcity. Her anger had just made her lose sight of it all, and now she stood there, beating herself up.

Something in Akai’s flinty demeanor softened.

He extended a hand, palm up, and she realized he was asking for the cigarette back. She swallowed, her pride balking against the act. But, there was no denying it, she thought; the one squarely in the wrong here was her.

She knelt and picked up the still-lit cigarette, and passed it over.

As he plucked it out from between her fingers, on his hands, she saw knuckles that evidenced years of regular martial arts training and combat, saw scars and old injuries and gun calluses.

This close, she can tell that her previous assessments of the agent, colored by personal animus and prejudice, had been wildly incorrect. Contrary to what she had assumed to be the case, she could now see that Akai was well-built under that scuffed leather jacket, and the marks on his hands said that this wasn’t a body cultivated in a gym to be looked at but something to be used. Even his slouch, indolent though it might seem, was controlled. It brought to mind the image of a panther—it might lounge lazily up on the branch of a cypress tree, but its muscles would always be ready to coil and pounce.

This was not some derelict who fancied himself a tough, daredevil guy—this was a true field agent, through and through.

Hadn’t she fallen prey to the very thing she hated others doing to her?

She swallowed again, and tasted something that was not quite humiliation and not quite apprehension. She forced herself to look up and meet Akai’s eyes again, but there, instead of the reprobation or animosity she had expected, she found with surprise a hint of a smile.

She noticed suddenly how startlingly green his eyes were, and how, when not overshadowed by a dour expression, his features, angular and striking and sharp, were exceptional.

“Well, as you said,” he said, “I am not supposed to smoke in here.” He reached to the table beside him for a plastic cup that held about a half-inch of water, and dropped into it the cigarette he had just gotten back. The cigarette fizzled and went out. Then, he tossed the whole thing into the trash. “So, how about we say the blame here was fifty-fifty”—he reached out a hand, and that ghost of a smile solidified into, nearly, a real one—“and call it even, Agent Starling?”

He did not have to give her an out, nor offer her the olive branch. But here he was, extending a hand to her, affording her the choice of whether or not to accept.

I had not meant to insult you, he had explained, and she had spat in his face, thinking it a flimsy cop-out. Now she thought she might have been incorrect in her judgment of that, too. Perhaps she had just gotten too ingrained in the habit of looking for mockery, even when there was none.

She reached out and grasped his hand. His shake was firm, and his hand, unlike how the man himself had seemed at first sight, was warm. “Agent Akai.”

He nodded at her, once, in acknowledgment, in respect. “Welcome to the team.”

•••••••

[extra snippet, probably takes place during/after they work on a case together.]

“You need not be so defensive. You’re better than the majority of the rest of them out there. You have nothing to prove.”

“You don’t get it.” Of course he didn’t; he didn’t have people whispering behind his back that he only got here because he’s pretty and fucking someone higher up the line. Probably. “Proving myself and establishing myself as an outstanding agent is the only way I can get access to the files and data and resources that I need.” Realizing how that might sound, she added, “There’s someone that I’m looking for. That I need to find.”

The moment she mentioned that she’s on the hunt for someone, his demeanor shifted, ever so slightly.

“Long-lost family member?” he suggested, casually, but she thought she could hear an undertone of intrigued commiseration.

“No,” she replied flatly. “The opposite. The woman who murdered my entire family.”

#redstarling #jodie starling #akai shuuichi #detective conan #this came out of me thinking about what jodie might have been like when she was a bit younger #a young jodie who was a rookie agent just starting out #who had so much she wanted to do and achieve but not yet the means to #and being so young she would probably also have been looked down upon and dismissed #and she would have felt like she had a lot to prove #(she would have been 22-23 five+ years ago which is barely past the FBI minimum age req. usually agents start out in their mid-20s)#thinking about how she eventually grew to be more assured in herself as she is now #and we don't have too much information on how she grew up after her parents' death but i can't imagine it being all roses and rainbows #i think akai would have liked her drive and seriousness and fire #and they would have bonded over their similar yet in a way opposite goals #ficlets #anyways now that i’ve got that out of me! back to our regularly scheduled content #i.e. losing my mind over whiskey trio

40 notes · View notes

rametarin · 11 months ago

Text

well at least they're being more honest about intentions, now.

Been a bit amused at how they've been trying to put Peter Parker out to pasture, because they don't want Spider-Man, the iconic character, to be white anymore.

Miles Morales has his own niche, but it isn't Peter Parker Spider-Man. Any time interest has faltered for Miles, they went and whipped out Peter to come play support for him and have them interact. Which is nice and all, but there are about a million characters that are not as popular as the iconic ones in comics, from all brands.

youtube

And it boils down to people that believe themselves to be administers of Culture Itself to having decided The People will kiss the feet of a black/hispanic, or at the very least, not cishetero white male Spider-Man as their hero and icon. And they're kind of mad they can't make that happen, just because they want it to be so.

Where their principles matter more than whether the work they produce or the characters are actually good. Where they define what's good and enforce it so you can't have anything BUT what they say is "good." And if you demand anything else, they accuse you of simply being bigoted, evil or demented.

And when they can't bait&switch to replace the icon, they instead decide to character assassinate to try and make that thing you like be tortured to death on the altar before the fans, metaphorically destroying them so they have no choice but to like the silver or copper winner that the would-be ministers of culture want them to like.

When you play their game enough that eventually they get tired of trying to be clever, strategic, subtle, they'll inevitably upend the table and start trying to force it down your throat. Politely duck and weave that, they'll show their true colors and start berating those whom resist as just hating characters like Miles, "because they're black."

This goes beyond such petty topics as racism or sexual or gender-identity inclusion. It goes into this very wrongheaded view of where culture comes from, what it is, and who has the right to censor, and what censorship is. Censorship that comes from the HR department after they do a circus' worth of mental backflips about how religious right soccer moms have no right to demand tits be censored in media, but they can make you attend weeks of tolerance and diversity training for not saying, "chest feeding."

It's about asserting dominance and expressing power on the assumed basis of protecting people, or even culture itself as a principle. But it's something the majority in America have not been allowed to say, because every dissent gets aikido flipped into a conversation about how white people just don't like being called out for racism or sexism or historical inequalities.

You can't force the public to like sub-standard shit just because you insist it's technically, "entertainment." You can't try to use something people like to gut it, hollow it out and try to make your frankly Courtney Love-ian Yoko Ono garbage appealing.

You can order the entire MCU to come out on stage and have them scream about queer this and "whites are capitalism and bad" that. It just shows you think both the people and cultural practice of chasing coattails and limosines makes you popular, just because you manage to catch up to them. And it also shows you're willing to kill existing, healthy pieces of culture in a hostage situation if they won't support your viral loads by making the continued survival of the things people love dependent on also accepting the stupid shit you graft to them. That's a level of hostility, callousness and obsession that cannot be ignored, and you kill enough peoples sacred cows, eventually they'll understand the ways and means of the heretics.

I only wish I spoke Japanese. I have so much I'd love to say to Japanese fans of western content, but the language barrier is incredible.

#Youtube

2 notes · View notes

kiwikipedia · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 26,479 times in 2022

1,203 posts created (5%)

25,276 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/jester-mereel

@/mercurydancer

@/crclocalunhingedsith

@/totallycorrectjediorderquotes

@/kiwikipedia (JSHGKJHG???)

I tagged 3,914 of my posts in 2022

#penguinkiwi talks - 567 posts

#star wars - 245 posts

#penguinkiwi answers stuff - 176 posts

#penguinkiwi writes - 151 posts

#star wars: the clone wars - 142 posts

#star wars: the expanded universe - 137 posts

#star wars the prequel trilogy - 134 posts

#penguinkiwi ocs - 128 posts

#penguin writes: star wars - 125 posts

#plo koon - 106 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#each other. ashe would be very happy to learn recipes from her and in return he’d probably ask her to taste what he’s made to make sure it’s

My Top Posts in 2022:

For April Fool's day the GearStation Poketube starts like normal except it's being run by a sneasel in a tiny gear station uniform. Not even dubbed over, just the sneasel going "Snee Snee Snee SNEE sneasel Snee!" like it's been doing this the whole time. In the background you see two sneasels (hisuin and johto) in Ingo and Emmets uniforms being carried around by Lady Sneasler in her own total uniform (jacket included!). The chat is losing it's mind and half the comments are just "SNEE!"

That’s the entire live stream for the day. Just depot workers following the Sneasel Staff and Lady Sneasler. They even do battles on the subway, just the Sneaslers. Ingo and Emmet and the Depot Workers take orders from the Sneasels and Lady Sneasler. No one acts any different.

Everyone is losing their minds. It’s the highest viewed video on the whole PokeTube site for a while.

726 notes - Posted April 6, 2022

I do not care if Cody is your favorite character or not, you need to realize that he was used as bait to draw attention away from the fact that the Bad Batch team could not be assed to redesign the clones and instead gave them new armor which arguarbly requires more effort than just softening and rounding features, recoloring skin and texturing hair, and then copy-pasting the models.

792 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

Gear Station PokeTube channel that’s full of information about trains and the Battle Subway, except it’s run by the Depot Managers and other Staff. The Twins don’t exactly have the time to make videos betwen battling and keeping the trains running, but every so often they’ll show up in videos, perhaps just in the background.

Those videos are always flooded with comments like “we all know the real highlight of this video was that 3 seconds of Boss Emmet in the background” and “did Boss Ingo just pick up a bench that’s supposed to be bolted down by himself?”

Sometimes they’re actually in the videos to explain something or do a Q&A but the other videos are much more fun to some fans. It’s always funny to see what shinanagans the twins get up to in the background of another video

895 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

when Emmet decides to go and fist fight god to get Ingo back, instead of telling him to pump the breaks like everyone else expected, Elesa and basically all of the Unova League are like “cool can we film it” because. New York. Let’s be real, that’s like an every other day proclamation in Unova.

Drayden didn’t tho bc Drayden’s gonna hold Arceus down so Emmet can punch it

932 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

sometimes people see zelda and go ‘haha funny adventure sword game with puzzles’ and move along with their day.

But there’s something incredibly sad about the entire timeline of Zelda, when it comes down to it. Three people, stuck in a repeating cycle never to be broken.

Was Ganon always destained to be evil? Was Zelda always destained to carry such a burden? Was Link always destained to be thrown headlong without any warning to become a hero?

Did, perhaps, the ones who know of the timeline, of the prophecy, of the cycle, did they believe that it was over only to be repeated again with each incarnation?

Do the souls of the three locked in the endless cycle cry out? Is there pain? Or do they simply not know? Not realize that it is them who they face again. A face that they know too well, a face that they have seen over and over and over again?

I wonder, truely, though, if the three dreamed of their past lives.

If Zelda dreamed of the countless times she had been used as a hostage, the countless times she had used magic to keep herself safe but in staisis, of disguises and ninjas, of the roaring seas as a pirate, of a guardian she does not remember?

If Link dreams of being nine years old and never changing, only to change too fast, of riding on horseback, of darkness, of wolves and a laugh he cannot place, of a sister he does not know?

If Ganon woke from dreams of his death as a child, of becoming a monsterous beast, of shadows, and agony, and a lust for power he cannot grasp, of a sword through his chest, through his face, of being shot over and over by arrows of silver and light?

I wonder if somewhere, deep down, they curse their destiny, locked in an endless cycle of suffering and loss.

955 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #This is so embarrassing actually why do I do this thing lmaO #my fucking typos are on blast here

5 notes · View notes

the-celluloid-correspondent · 1 year ago

Text

Quickie Movie Reviews

Nyad Review

Athlete Diana Nyad sets out at 60 to achieve a nearly impossible lifelong dream: to swim from Cuba to Florida across more than 100 miles of open ocean.

Diana Nyad performed the impossible as she swam from Cuba to Florida at 60 years old. So a film documenting her achievement should have been exceptional in the sports biopic genre. Yet, Nyad is a standard sports biopic that falls into the worst cliches of the genre.

If you have seen any underdog sports biopic, Nyad follows those standard storytelling elements beat per beat. So from a story perspective, it doesn’t do anything new. However, Nyad has a theme that is rarely explored in this genre, ageism. Yet, Nyad completely wastes an opportunity to bring up the theme of ageism in professional sports. This theme should have been the central conflict that she has to overcome to achieve her goal. The idea of pushing your body to its limits while you are past your physical prime is a very interesting conflict to explore. Nyad completely wastes this theme as it decides to use cheap, manipulative, flashbacks as character development. These flashbacks provide only a backstory to her character and not development as the film tries to present it.

On top of this lacking character development, they made Diana Nyad, to simply state it, an egomaniac asshole. She shows little to no regard for not only her life but for the lives of those trying to help her achieve this achievement. She constantly puts her team in life-threatening situations and she doesn’t care what it costs to make this achievement. Then when her team finally abandons her due to her selfish desires, it only lasts for about five minutes before the team is back together again. After this brief breakup, she finally achieves her goal of swimming from Cuba to Florida. However, the movie completely glosses over her groundbreaking swim was never officially certified by the WOWSA and the Guinness World Records due to conflicting reports coming from her team and Nyad herself, who has a long documented history of embellishing her achievements. All of these elements combined do not make for a compelling protagonist to cheer for.

Annett Benning and Jodi Foster carry the hell out of this movie with their performances. Though neither performance is really special, their chemistry is still enjoyable to watch. Rhys Ifans gives the best performance in my opinion. His character was written as a one-dimensional supporter, but Ifans performance gave his character so much depth that was clearly not in the material. Overall, Nyad is a standard sports biopic with a bit of Oscar-bait flair. It’s nothing special and can be skipped when it randomly appears in your Netflix recommendations in January.

My Rating: C

Fingernails Review

Anna and Ryan have found true love together. It's been proven by a controversial test. There's just one problem: Anna still isn't sure. Then she meets Amir.

Imagine a world where all one would have to do to determine if their partner is their one and only soul mate is to sacrifice one of their fingernails for a test to prove it. A dystopian concept out of the Twilight Zone and Black Mirror that will forever change how humanity searches for our true love. So it makes me angry that Fingernails doesn’t fully commit to the concept that it sets up and instead, it chooses to be a simple romance.

Fingernails is inspired by the work of Charlie Kaufman and Yorgos Lanthimos, as they take a dystopian element/concept and use it to explore human nature. Fingernails has that dystopian element, but it doesn't fully show the dystopian consequences of said element. A test as shown in Fingernails would have massive consequences on society. How does it change society's view of love? How does the dating world change because of this test? What consequences would it have on people who believe they are soul mates but get a negative score and vice versa? These questions and many more are either vaguely or never explored. And instead of exploring this dystopian world, it chooses to be an awkward love triangle of a bored woman.

Anna (Jessie Buckley) has fallen out of love with her current beau, Ryan. She hates how they have fallen into a routine that she finds to be boring. Then she meets Amir who sparks love in her heart. This love triangle explores one of the more interesting themes that Fingernails introduces, “falling in love is easier than staying in love as staying in love requires hard work”. It is a very interesting theme that the film somewhat explores but not to its fullest potential. The relationship between Anna and Ryan is very basic, and if it were not for the test, they would obviously not be together. Thus creating a relationship I didn’t believe was initially true love. Then when Amir is introduced, the breaking between Anna and Ryan just doesn’t feel real or artificial. This year Past Lives handles this exact theme better as the romances there felt real.

Jessie Buckley, Riz Ahmed, and Jeremy Allen White, all do a great job with the material they are given and carry much of the film. But it is clear they deserve a much better script and direction. Overall, Fingernails is a very interesting watch, but it fails to commit to the premise that it sets up.

My Rating: C+

Godzilla Minus One

In postwar Japan, a new terror rises. Will the devastated people be able to survive … let alone fight back against the monstrous Godzilla?

Over the decades, many countries around the world have attempted to put their mark on the infamous Godzilla. From fighting against King Kong to multi-million dollar blockbusters, Godzilla has had his fair share of iterations. Yet, Godzilla Minus One is a stern reminder that the only people who know how to do Godzilla justice, are the people of Japan.

Godzilla Minus One reminds the audience how terrifying Godzilla is. When he tramples the city of Ginza, it is more than just a destructive spectacle. Nearly every single shot of that city's destruction is from the point of view of its inhabitants as they look in horror at the destruction that Godzilla creates. Then when the military finally arrives they are useless as Godzilla becomes an unstoppable monster. With every new weapon that the people of Japan throw at him, he just regenerates and becomes stronger. Then after having a nuke dropped on him, he gains the power of his atomic breath. His breath is a terrifying special as it is reminiscent of the atomic bombs that were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Reminiscent not only in looks but in the sheer destruction that it causes. It obliterates everything in its path, leaving nothing but rubble behind. Yet, this iteration of Godzilla is more than just a destructive spectacle.

Godzilla Minus One takes place in the years following the end of the Second World War. We follow a former Kamakazi pilot who is riddled with guilt, shame, and trauma, as he is shamed by his society for not performing his duty during the war. While reconciling his emotions in the rubble of Tokyo, he takes in a young woman and her adopted newborn daughter. Together they form an unconventional family as they rebuild their lives. Then when Godzilla arrives he is forced to confront his demons. Through his family and Godzilla’s arrival, he slowly begins to regain his courage and learns who he is truly fighting for. He redeems himself not only in his community but to himself. This transformation from a broken man to one with a fiery heart of courage to protect the ones he loves is perfectly portrayed by Ryunosuke Kamiki. This human arc was unexpected, and it had no right to be this good in a film about Godzilla.

Overall, Godzilla Minus One was a pleasant surprise. Its human story combined with its destructive spectacle proves yet again that Japan are the only people who know how to do Gozilla. And what is even more surprising was its small budget of $15 million, which is less than 10% of the Godzilla blockbusters made in Hollywood.

My Rating: A-

Dream Scenario

Hapless family man Paul Matthews finds his life turned upside down when millions of strangers suddenly start seeing him in their dreams. But when his nighttime appearances take a nightmarish turn, Paul is forced to navigate his newfound stardom.

Since the dawn of humanity, dreams have been interpreted in many different ways. From Omens to our innermost thoughts and desires, dreams have become a way to interpret our complicated lives. So when Nicolas Cage starts popping up in everyone's dreams, I believe we would all be confused and fascinated by the meme king.

We follow Paul (Nicolas Cage), a nobody professor of evolutionary biology, who becomes an internet phenomenon when he randomly starts appearing in people's dreams. He struggles as he navigates his newfound stardom, from weird sexual reenactments to being the most wanted man for advertising, and his emotions become more complicated. Then it takes a turn for the worse as Paul's dream doppelganger becomes violent to those who dream about him, causing his life to turn upside down as he is shunned and brutalized by society. At the heart of Dream Scenario, is the theme of how keeping our emotions bundled on the inside, will eventually outwardly project onto others in the worst way possible. Paul is a passenger in his own life as he refuses to take charge of it and continues to blame others for why he can’t move forward. This is why when people first begin to dream about him, he is just there watching. Then as his anger brews from everyone's mundane projection of him, their strange dreams turn into graphic nightmares. This is a fascinating metaphor to explore how emotional suppression can lead to unexpected consequences. However, instead of exploring this metaphor to its fullest, Dream Scenario turns into a commentary on cancel culture and mod mentality.

Don’t get me wrong, Dream Scenario’s commentary on this subject is tragic and is well done, but it doesn’t fit into the overall narrative of the feature. He is canceled by society not because of his actions, but because of what people dream about him. This commentary does not work for me as cancel culture is very complicated when it comes to someone canceling. Don’t me wrong many people are unjustly canceled because of a single statement or a single accusation, and they are never given their day in court to defend themselves (innocent until proven guilty in the court of law). Dream Scenario does perfectly shows what it is like to be unjustly canceled, but it never explores its complicated nature of cancel culture and mob mentality. The film should have either stuck to the emotional suppression theme or fully committed to its commentary on cancel culture.

With that stated, Dream Scenario is a wildly entertaining and hysterical film. Nicolas Cage is perfect as his character Paul. His subtle comedic timing paired with his character's pathetic nature is perfection. Cage going back and forth between his pathetic character, to his iconic meme acting is hysterical. Dream Scenario definitely is one of the best performances in Cage’s career. Overall, Dream Scenario does not come together thematically, it is still an entertaining film that continues to push the boundaries of filmmaking.

My Rating: B

1 note · View note