#the scene that made me have the reaction described earlier in this post will absolutely live in my head for the rest of my life.

[kingdomoftyto]

Anyone interested in a Sea Grunkles fic that'll make you bawl your eyes out? Have I got a rec for you

Please enjoy this fic about Stan and Ford's post-canon adventures in the Arctic, featuring selkies, Atlantis, and so, so much hurt/comfort

I frequently find myself dramatically flailing around at fics when they're depicting something funny or embarrassing, but this is the first one in a long time to make me cover my face with my hands out of pure visceral emotion. I literally almost sobbed. But in a good, cathartic way? Man. I can't explain further without spoiling the best parts.

(Please mind the content warnings because mental health struggles are a central theme, but trust when I say everything turns out okay in the end!)

[roostertuftart]

13(Kyle?) 20, and 27?

13. Unpopular opinion about Kyle?

GOOD QUESTION, because wow is he a spicy character to have ANY opinions on right now...

Ummm Gonna lean into something I wanted to say earlier about him when I was talking about Kyman, because I don't see this factor of his character really given attention by either kymans or styles (where the fandom is most prominently divided on Kyle, I think) and I kinda feel in between it as a big shipper of Style who's also really intrigued by the complexities of Kyle and Eric's dynamic.

And sorry if any of my language comes off anti any ships here, I just want to work off of the debate I've seen between both of them to talk about this but I'm not trying to step on any fingers here!!

I've seen it said often as an argument for Kyman that Kyle is absolutely obsessed with Eric back, and I've seen in turn Styles often like to downplay Kyle and Eric's dynamics entirely or act like it's completely insane to suggest this idea- But I kind of agree Kyle is???

Personally, what I think is that Kyle absolutely is obsessed with Eric, what he's doing, what he's up to, who he talks to, etc, but I just don't think this is due to some sort of underlying romance. I think Kyle is meant to be portrayed in the show as being incredibly invested in what Cartman is up to because

Kyle has made it his personal mission to fix Cartman/keep him in line. He often seems to believe it's his job to guide him into doing better, keep him out of trouble, keep him from hurting people, and keep him from getting hurt himself (though I think this comes out of Kyle giving into his guilt watching Cartman actively suffering, there's also been multiple times Kyle encouraged him to get himself killed)

I just think Kyle is genuinely nervous about Cartman. Now this isn't particularly obvious- It's not like we see Kyle showing any real signs of fear around Eric, but I do see signs of anxiety that are far more subtle- The important thing to remember here is that Kyle rarely show's many negative emotions beyond anger. It's how he processes many things, and when anger doesn't work, we often see him shut down emotionally (Ex. scenes in The List and Ginger Cow). This isn't to say Kyle never shows sadness/fear, he definitely does! But these tend to come out more in specific situations where as more often, he represses these emotions and keeps his vulnerabilities out of obvious reach. Idk, I'm rambling a bit here but the point is that I think a lot of Kyle's quickness to get so angry and worked up over Cartman, his need to know what he's up to and try to jump on it is a reaction done out of anxiety that I'm not even sure Kyle is aware of. I think this is especially prevalent in say, Post Covid, where we see Kyle has seemed to gotten a very good control over his anger and aggression UNTIL he has to face Eric, to which immediately he is paranoid and jumping on everything Eric says to him, refusing to believe anything he sees and positive it's some jab against him that he'll pay for the moment he give in to believing it. And I don't think this is unfair of Kyle! Of course he's distrustful! Eric has put him through a lot, fooled him many times, and Kyle just can't keep it together anymore the moment he has to speak to him. Just... The entire meltdown of this calm collected persona he's been managing along with his paranoia just comes off so much as anxiety to me. Not to mention, I do think Kyle has anxiety he's not aware of. The way he describes anxiety as normal in Buddha Box and goes into detail what is "normal" to feel like... "Everyone has anxiety! Everyone gets nervous! Everyone is afraid being around people! Everyone has feelings they'd rather stay home alone! And you know what they do? They get over it." Damn Kyle. Get therapy honey. You need a Xanax or something. None of that is normal and the fact that he has become so deluded to believe it is is pretty tragic, but kind of supports that he doesn't even recognize the feelings making him act out so aggressively as an anxiety response.

Anyway TLDR Kyle is obsessed with Eric because of paranoia and anxiety/his need to be a good person and "fix" him

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom?

k2 next question

nah but seriously, this ship has no discourse, the nicest shippers... Is just as a ship genuinely super sweet and nice and wholesome and lovely, Kenny and Kyle just feel like characters who really understand each other and function well together. I love them and I love K2 shippers.

27 is right here!

Based on this ask list :)

[typinggently]

You’re completely right! I didn't explain what I meant really well, but I was thinking about the context of the scene, too. I'll try to put it into words a little better.

And I looked the scene up again, here it is:

You rightfully pointed out is that Mary (and John) would be right in her reaction to Sam. What I was referring to in my post was Dean's reaction to Sam, but in some way, it's really Dean's reaction to John's reaction to Sam's reaction to Mary(and John). That's where the broader context comes into play. [again I'm really sorry for the mess, I'll try to make it clear!]

So yes, Mary doesn't know she's their mother (or that they're related at all, if I recall correctly?) and John doesn't know them at all. So Sam's behaviour in the living room is weird, but it's been weird the entire time. John comments on it right at the door, when Sam looks at him teary-eyed and doesn't let go of his hand. (Btw, I wonder if there was a change from the script to JP's acting because Sam doesn’t exactly look spooked to me, more speechless? Devastated? Disbelieving?) - In short: Sam has been acting weird right from the start, towards both of them (starting with John), and when they try to talk to him in the living room, he drops that "beautiful" line, which seems to be the breaking point for John (who Dean addresses his comment to, I think).

But is the breaking point that Sam calls this woman beautiful? Or is it the sum of his behaviours up until that point? Because John has been worried about Sam('s antics) ever since the man wouldn't let go of his hand, so it feels like he might be worried about the display in its entirety, rather than thinking someone is hitting on his girl.

So to me it's interesting that Dean assumes what's weird about a stranger sitting in your living room looking like a sopping wet kitten ready to dissolve into tears at the sight at his cousin and a man he's never met before is that he refers to his cousin as "beautiful". And that Dean quickly tries to make it sound less incesty, while, in my opinion, Sam doesn't really look like he's trying to hit on his "cousin", per se. He absolutely 100% looks strange to someone who's lacking the context of what he's going through, with his glassy eyes and wobbly smile, but he doesn't exactly look overcome with lust. Awe, maybe? (Although, just as with the "spooked", I wonder if there was a script/acting change. If Sam was supposed to just stare at them and then drop that line, the effect would've been different and the incest comment might have made more sense? but again, to me Sam looks like he's about to cry, not like he's trying to bang his cousin)

Here we also get to the point that it's a little strange that Dean thinks "beautiful" is an incesty thing to say, especially since HE knows the context of Sam seeing her for the first time after losing John not too long ago, etc etc. But that might be influenced by the reaction of the people around him - which is, again, in my opinion, him misreading what they're reacting to. Not the "beautiful", but the sum of the actions. So we circle back to the fact that Dean overlooks part of the weird behaviour and focuses on the word, which he jumps to justify - even though "beautiful" is a pretty harmless word and we know he's used certain words to describe her, too.

In short: Sam's been acting weird towards both Mary AND John while looking sad (to some capacity), so why is Dean's first instinct to go "don't worry, he doesn't want to fuck her"? So with the fact in mind that Dean expressed his own thoughts about Mary to an invisible Sam-audience at an earlier point: King of projection.

[this is such a long explanation of such a silly thought and I'm not even sure whether it made it any clearer. again I'm really sorry haha]

I’ll never get over Dean jumping in with that “in a non weird way!” to justify Sam calling the mother he’s never seen beautiful with tears in his eyes, as if that isn't a normal (if gutwrenching) thing to say about your mother and as if he himself hasn’t called her fuckable before. king of projection.

[stewyhosseini-bf]

maaaaaan the 2x01 kenstewy scene is sO. GOOD. I mean that was the scene that made me go yo. what's all THIS then. cause it just hiiiits.

first of all, when I first watched that scene, I was sure I knew how it was gonna play out: true to the show and to any piece of media I'd watched prior to this, I was SURE stewy was either going to go apeshit or just berate him in succession-fashion (lol that rhymes) especially cause that character can dish it out if he wants to. As soon as the scene started, I was sure and then that's just.. not what happens.

He does start out with the whole 'what are you, his sherpa now? you're like the skull tied to his belt?" but you can tell he's not IN it, he's just saying it to say it. and then when all Kendall says is the 'yeah well' THAT'S when he actually gets a little mad, but most of all he just sounds and looks freaking hurt. Delivering the 'and you're saying no to all my calls' as sad and confused, rather than angry is what made actually go '??? okay' like there's. actual emotion here. real emotion. there's actual HURT here. it's NOT just about business. and we knew that, of course, but SO often with scenes like this, they totally forego the friendship/whatever relationship part because while the relationship between characters is what the story determined as the driving factor for these people working together, it's not actually there and it's forgotten about as soon as the business part is over with. But that's not at all what they're doing here. Yeah, they're doing business together, but first and foremost, they fucking care about each other.

(and we do already get this earlier, when Kendall pretty easily forgives Stewy for not being with him on the vote of no confidence. Stewy actually looks sorry as well in that scene and Kendall fucking FORGIVES him. in that scene, too, I was kinda shocked that they actually allowed these people to care about each other - like there's no other way for me to describe my thoughts on that, I was just like wow okay they ACTUALLY care about each other like a lot. Anyway).

then we get the 'No, Ken, you're gonna have to give me something. Tell me what the fuck happened," and again it's NOT.. even demanding or angry. He mostly sounds confused and hurt and concerned, like that's it.

and when he says the 'there's a friend card here, if you want to play it. there's a human thing standing in front you', I actually got goosebumps the first time I watched it. From Stewy's POV, Kendall fucked him over and then ghosted him and his reaction is to reach out, cause most of all he's just fucking concerned for him. like even in the way he's looking at him, trying to catch his gaze when Kendall keeps looking away and just trying to TALK to this wall in front of him, that's giving him nothing.

And then the ABSOLUTE KILLER line of 'we had the whole world in our hands and you fucking walked, man. Why?' Like that was the line that had me stop and go WOAH. Which is why I made this post about it skdfjs (with these later additions cause. Yeah well, I’m here now, am I not) but anyway,

and it's only then, after Stewy asks him for the SECOND time what happened, offers him support, is like please just TALK to me, just explain like I just want to know what the fuck went wrong, and Kendall again gives him the bullshit line of 'my dad's plan was better' (and can barely get it out or sound even REMOTELY convincing, much less look him in the eye while saying it) that Stewy actually gets mad and starts on his tirade. And understandably so. like again, apart from fucking him over after ensuring multiple times that they were good and were gonna pull it off, and then ghosting him, he also won't talk to him and just gives him the same bullshit he gave to everyone else. so yeah. Anyway. This whole scene hits. And Arian Moayed especially gave such a great performance here and I just keep coming back to it, it's SO fucking good.

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

i've heard allegations 'bout your reputation, i'll show you my shadows if you show yours

summary: requested (like a year ago, sorry!)  Reader and Andy getting in a legitimate fight or maybe flirting in front of him with one of his colleagues to get under his skin because he hasn’t touched her in weeks from being so busy jealous Andy would be so dominant I’m weak i took some liberties and set it at the christmas eve party at andy’s office.

warnings: andrew barber being r o u g h  😩 😩 😩 and jealous 😩  and mean bc i just so deeply want this man to yell at me and pull my hair bc he’s an angry daddy, however, he is not called daddy in this story bc i don’t do it unless you guys ask me to. so smut, and he’s in charge and i’m dead about it. more videos being made bc apparently that’s on my mind.

word count: around 7,500

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: i hate that it took me so long to post this but here i am, almost a month late with a christmas eve party story. i have very little shame tbh.

You were not unreasonable, no matter what Andy claimed. You could always admit what was your fault—which was about 80% of all disagreements—but Andy had his faults, too. Tonight? Well, you weren’t innocent…but you were not the only one to blame.

This was the third Christmas party he had taken you to. The first year had not completely been his doing. Lynn had been bothering him about it and he would have gotten away with pretending it just wasn’t possible had Lynn not run into you at the coffee shop near Andy’s house.

You had been accustomed to Andy by then. He didn’t put distance between you two because he wanted to, he just simply wasn’t the best at getting close. You practically forced him into sometimes, and it had never gone wrong, so he trusted you. A lot.

You weren’t sure you were going to be able to say that much longer. You had your moments, those situations where you pushed him just a little too far. Not so far that he was angry about it, but far enough that you ended up with a sore ass and maybe a few finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

As if that was an incentive to stop?

Lately, things had been…off. Andy was working on a big case, one that he had just finished the day before. You expected that he was going to come home and make up for not having touched you in 17 days. Yet, that didn’t happen.

You weren’t trying to complain too much. The “honeymoon phase” was something that could not be applied to your relationship because you were as happy as any other day, you loved him more and more as time went on, and you guys always had sex. Always.

But there were the cases that sometimes threw a slight pause in that. That was fine, you understood and it wasn’t like you were with Andy for sex. You loved that man so fucking much, you could deal with some neglect for a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

17 days with no immediate plans to remedy it was crossing a line. So, on the 18th night, the night of his office Christmas party, after he merely kissed your head, told you that you looked beautiful, and didn’t fuck you in your tiny, sparkly dress, you also wanted to cross a line. A specific line because it was hard to get a reaction out of him any other way.

Andrew Barber was a jealous man. It was something you never played with because he was jealous. He wasn’t some immature idiot who was going to cause a scene, but he would interrogate you about people he felt were “suspicious”.

On your way to the party, he had wanted to catch up. He felt like this was the first time he was able to breathe since he was put on the case, and he had noticed some distance between you two. You told him about the very basic parts of your day—work, friends, family.

When he placed his hand on your thigh, you had to wonder if this was a game. Why hadn’t he fucked you? Was he trying to make you beg? That was something Andy thoroughly enjoyed, and you trusted him so much that you rarely ever knew when he was doing it. If you stopped to think about it, you would probably find a few times he’d managed to get away with it.

He let you hold his hand and to avoid having to pull away from you, he told you when to move the gear shift. It was cute, too cute for how long you two had been together, but Andy seemed willing to indulge you. He always did when he could.

But as soon as he got to the party, there was more work talk and he had basically pawned you off on Lynn. She was thrilled, of course, she rarely had time for friendships, but she valued Andy, and because of that, she loved you almost as much as he did.

It had been two hours by the time you were completely fed up. Lynn had decided she was about to head out, so she was making her rounds, and that meant that you were stuck with the other partners. Men, women, they were all talking about how great their lawyers had been lately.

Yet, reminder, you hadn’t been fucked in nearly 18 days. You weren’t going to sit around and listen to that for the whole night, you innocently decided to wander a bit. Andy was talking about his case and seemed almost oblivious to your presence. Why did he even bring you? He was the one that reminded you about it, you probably wouldn’t have realized it had gone by until well into next year since work was so hectic.

Regardless, without an answer, you were left to entertain yourself. What else were you supposed to do? Just sit around all night and not speak to anyone? Andy was a complicated man and he had only a handful of people at the job that he liked, but fewer people that he disliked. Most people, he felt indifferent about, and those were the pawns for your current game.

You flit all around the party, laughing, talking to everyone, and though you saw him seeking out your whereabouts every now and then, there was no reaction at all. He didn’t care that some of these sleazy men were staring at your cleavage or your legs—two things he should have done earlier but did not.

By the time you’d nearly spoken to everyone, you felt…possessed, there was no better way to describe it. You were mad and confused and tired, and till the day you died, you would swear on everything you held sacred, the following was not part of your plan. You simply had no other choice than to go along with it when it practically fell in your lap.

Andy hadn’t noticed your best attempts but as soon as Neal was standing in front of you, he was watching. You had not and would not have gone to Neal, it was the other way around. He was possibly picking up on all your sadness and desperation, he was probably able to spot attention-seeking from a mile away since he pulled those kinds of stunts regularly.

Andy was finally paying attention to you and that was why you didn’t walk away. Your boyfriend could deny it all he wanted, but you saw something in his eyes. There was that anger, of course, but there was also that dark gleam. The one that he had when he liked to lay you out under him and remind you who you belong to.

That was all you wanted, that was the only reasoning behind your actions. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, not until you laughed at something Neal said and he laughed back, and then he touched your shoulder.

And that was when you knew things had gone too far. You crossed a line, and you should have known better than even trying to use Neal. Because he envied Andy to no end, understandably. Why wouldn’t he try to flirt with you? No one got Andy as angry as Neal, and you should have just put your ego aside and spoken to your boyfriend.

But that window had closed and your time for being a mature, communicating adult was over. You quickly broke away from Neal after that and Andy took only seconds before he was dragging your ass out of that party and to the car.

You weren’t sure what to do. Pretend you didn’t know what the big deal was? Maybe just start blurting out apologies. He opened the car door for you, ushered you in, and then got into the driver’s seat in complete silence.

Andy had been mad at you before, but he had never been so angry he wouldn’t look at you or speak to you. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw set, brow furrowed, shoulders tense—he stayed that way the entire drive.

Andy wasn’t like this, he usually always had his temper in control. You were worried because you were one of the few people Andy sincerely trusted. It would devastate you if this gave him pause.

When he stopped the car, it became uncomfortably silent. It had taken you almost a minute to decide where you wanted to take this. “Andy, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I am s—”

“Get upstairs, take your dress off, and wait for me on the bed.”

Shit. You fumbled with the handle for a moment, scurrying inside and up the stairs. This was everything that you had wanted, wasn’t it? Then why the fuck were you nervous? Why were you shaking? Why did the idea of a black hole appearing and swallowing you sound so appealing?

You took off your dress and hung it back in your closet. You’d only been in it for a few hours, that didn’t warrant an actual wash. Shakily, you made your way back to the bed and sat there. What about your bra and panties? He hadn’t said. Your shoes? Fuck, what were you supposed to do?

Andy walked in and flipped on the light.

Idiot, why hadn’t you done that?

He made his way to the dresser off to the side of the bedroom, he removed his jacket first, then his cuff links and his tie. He started rolling up his sleeves and you had to look away.

You turned down to your lap. “You didn’t tell me if you wanted me to keep anything else on.”

“I also didn’t tell you that you could speak,” he asserted.

Your stomach dropped, the mere thought of not following his directions was unsettling. When Andy got like this, you wanted to do what he told you to. You wanted him to think you were his good girl. Any time you failed at absolute perfection, you didn’t take it well.

You didn’t know if you should apologize or remain silent. You were wringing your hands, something you became aware of only when he made his way in front of you and placed his hands over yours. You startled slightly, looking up at him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your head tilted back. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. You didn’t want him to feel bad because you were feeling some type of way. You also didn’t want to think this had anything to do with him. He’d never given you reason to be nervous.

“Are you scared?”

“Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He leaned down, face directly in front of yours. “Before we start, I need you to understand that you’ve never disappointed me. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.” That didn’t really help as much as he probably thought it would. Even if you hadn’t disappointed him, there was always the chance that you would. And you weren’t sure he was being completely honest anyway. Neal? What the fuck was wrong with you?

“You don’t need to be nervous or scared, just be completely honest with me.”

“Of course.” You would never lie to him.

“Who do you belong to?”

Your answer was immediate, you didn’t even need to think about it. Recalling life before you met Andy was a bit blurry. Who had you been? Where? What had you wanted? “You.”

“So,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, “this mouth…”

“Is yours,” you confirmed.

He hummed, fingers trailing from your face all the way down, between your breasts, over your stomach, stopping at the band of your panties. He paused, noting the shakiness in your breath, the goosebumps on your skin, your hands that were gripping the sheets.

Abruptly, his hand dropped to where you had been expecting it to. Your breath hitched and your hips jumped off the bed, desperate for his touch.

He made a small noise of disapproval and you hurriedly settled back down on the bed. “This pussy? Is that mine, too?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He pulled your panties off to the side and his fingers ran up your wet skin at an agonizing pace. He brought them up to his lips and his tongue slipped out to taste you. He smiled because you had managed to stay almost completely still, apart from a bit of squirming. “You’re such a good girl, baby. You know that’s one of my favorite things about you, how good you are for me.”

That gave you these awful butterflies and you felt hot everywhere. That was all you ever needed to hear. His hand returned to your center and his first finger slid into you. You looked down to see but he grabbed your jaw again and turned you back up.

“Keep watching me, baby.”

He liked to test you, you knew that. He would give you an order and try to make you disobey him. This time, when his hand fell away from your face, you forced yourself to keep your head tilted. You ignored that burning part of you that wanted to see his fingers pushing in and pulling out, covered in what was dripping from your pussy.

You focused on just feeling. One thick finger was slowly working you open for him, he always stretched you out as much as he could meaning you had to be prepared for some teasing. He prioritized this because he was big and he knew it—and you had been smitten enough before he fucked you, but after, there wasn’t a second of the day your body didn’t crave Andy’s.

Despite how rough Andy could be with you, and how generally tough he was, he liked to baby you. Sometimes, he liked treating you as delicately as one would a bouquet of flowers. He could see a lot of comparisons if he really thought about it. You were beautiful, soft, and smelled so sweet. And if he didn’t pay attention to you, well, he’d been reminded of those consequences at the party.

You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You didn’t falter when he added his second finger, nor when he curled his fingers against that spot inside you, nor when his thumb pressed down firmly on your clit.

He pressed one hand down on your shoulder, a cue to lie back. After you had obliged, he pulled his fingers out of you and told you to open your mouth. You instantly did so, closing around his fingers as soon as they were in your reach.

He pressed his fingers down and kept going until your body jerked and the noise of you gagging echoed in the room. “I wanna see those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, baby girl.”

You eagerly sat up, still sucking on his fingers as you pulled his belt apart, yanked the button of his pants open, and tore down the zipper. Glancing up at him to look for any signs that you didn’t have his permission to proceed, you pushed his pants and boxers down cautiously until his cock was out.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and nodded. “Go ahead, baby.”

You moved back on the bed and situated yourself onto your stomach, propping up on your elbows. One hand wrapped around his hard length and you let the tip of your tongue come out to catch the precum dripping from his tip.

He released a shaky breath, hands at his sides because he wanted you running the show. For a while, a least. He didn’t want to guide you, he wanted to see how exactly you were going to make up for your slight misstep at the party.

You ran your tongue up his shaft lightly, feigning that whole soft act that you knew he loved. It wasn’t so much an act, but you had been bent over his desk, hair pulled, ass spanked, both holes thoroughly used. But you liked soft, too. You liked slow and gentle mornings, whispered words, careful touching. You liked whatever he wanted to give you.

You closed your lips around just the head of his cock and sucked. Unlike all other men you had been with, Andy was as patient as a saint. He loved when you teased him. Once, he had you edge him with your mouth for nearly an hour and thinking about how he fucked you after still made your toes curl.

His eyes closed and he sighed. “Fuck, baby.” His hand lightly settled on the back of your head. “So good, I could fuck your mouth for the rest of my life.” He didn’t push you down, he just ran his hand through your hair over and over because he knew how much you liked him to play with your hair.

But then his hold tightened and he pulled you off, much to your dismay. He noted your pout and pleading eyes but was kind enough not to taunt you about them. “Get on your back, sweetheart.”

You knew what he wanted as soon as he stepped away. You quickly climbed up toward the edge of the bed and rolled over, bending your neck over the mattress. You automatically opened your mouth for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders first.

“Relax.” He leaned over and ran his hands along your arms, setting them on the mattress. He pressed your thighs down, waiting until you had lost all the tension in your body. He curled his hand around his length and stroked several times with a loose hand and a slow pace.

You watched in utter fascination. It never failed to get you wet when Andy showed so much control, over himself, over you. He was in charge of every little thing and you could tell that he got off on that. Every time he reached the head of his cock, he would press down so slightly, so close to your lips but just not enough.

“Andy,” you whispered. “Please.”

He smirked again. “Open your mouth for me.” And as soon as you did, he was slowly sliding in. He was slow at first, keeping his hips still as he slipped the straps of your bralette past your shoulders. He rolled the remaining material down until your breasts were exposed and squeezed them in his hands.

You pressed your thighs together, arching up into his hands more. You tried to relax your throat for him, knowing he was only stopping to give you a moment to prepare.

He pinched your nipples painfully and didn’t stop until you whined. He loved feeling you make that sound when his cock was down your throat, and the deep breaths as the pain faded away. Again, he tortured your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, yanked a little, until you were squirming all around the bed, making these noises around him that he rarely ever heard, your eyes filled with tears.

He leaned over quickly, releasing your breasts so he could give them both a brief kiss. You closed your eyes, humming in satisfaction. He took his time sinking his teeth into your sore, erect nipples and you squealed both times, back arching again. His tongue rolled over your stinging skin and you tilted your head eagerly, attempting to take more of him.

Sometimes, it was enough to get him naturally high, how much power he had over you, your body. He could hurt you and you would thank him; he could turn around and give you just a second of gentleness and you looked at him like you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved him. You claimed that, quite often. Andy wasn’t sure if he believed that, not because he didn’t trust you but because he wasn’t wired to think of himself as special in any way. Why you treated him like he was, was confusing to him at times.

But you were special, so fucking special. You were smart and funny, and so kind to every single person you encountered. It was a nice change from the environment he regularly found himself in. That was what you were supposed to be—a breath of fresh air from his hard life. You were not supposed to become his only source of oxygen, yet there he was. It didn’t seem he was reliant on you because Andy wasn’t comfortable expressing reliance on anyone, but he knew he was.

He stood and watched your body move with those deep, sharp breaths you were taking. Abruptly, his hand whipped across one breast, then the other. You cried out, a nice vibration around him, and now you were quivering. It was so easy for him to play your body like this because you were just needy enough that anything would have given you pleasure. Another thing he knew, another thing that made him so damn cocky.

“Open your legs,” he told you and you parted your thighs. Again, he pulled aside your lace panties and pushed two of his fingers inside you. Your cunt was dripping, your arousal gushing out as his fingers thrust in, curled, searched for that spot that made your eyes roll back. The noise of it made his cock twitch.

Your pussy was throbbing, yearning for the release that only this man could give you. You didn’t care how he did it, you just needed Andy. Hands, mouth, cock, you would take anything he wanted you to have.

“Listen to that greedy pussy,” he directed, voice low and quiet. “So desperate to be filled and fucked. But by who, baby?”

Your stomach twisted at not being able to answer him. That was why he asked when you had your mouth full of him, because if you could speak, you would blurt out reassurances that it was only him.

“Me?” he pressed.

You spoke, despite knowing it was going to sound like nonsense.

“And no one else?”

You were quick with your denial. And maybe, by now, since his cock was always in your mouth, he was a professional at understanding what you were saying. Or possibly, it was just the look in your eyes.

“You sure, baby?”

Once more, your voice came out muffled but hurried, almost panicked. He had to know that you didn’t even think about anyone else. He had to know that you thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.

He dragged his free hand up your body and it settled over your neck. Finally, he pulled out from your mouth only to thrust back in harshly. You choked, your throat contracting around him while he massaged his thumb and finger over your pulse points. He let you breathe through it before he started rocking his hips ever so slightly. You could feel him moving along your tongue and your cheeks, but they were small motions.

You always loved this position; it was easier to take all of him. It was easier to breathe on your back with your chest open, and, unlike being on your knees, it left you open for him.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing one hand off to the side of the bed while the other reached between your legs. His fingers danced along your skin without any real intent, but occasionally, he would touch your clit.

You were reaching for any part of him you could touch. Your hands mindlessly grasped at his back and kept slipping off because of his shirt. You couldn’t ask but you wanted it off. He felt your hands working open his buttons and decided to let you have something. He was going to take and take tonight, he could give you a little.

He stood up and loosened his tie enough to pull it off, then shrugged his shirt off. Once again, his palm settled to your neck. “You should see yourself right now. Shaking, wet, such a good girl.”

You reached up, gripping one hand in his pants, the other around the buckle of his belt and you pulled him in more until your throat was struggling.

“Easy, baby.” He took your hands off him, keeping a hold of one and placing the next back down on the bed. He pulled out carefully, dragging his hand up, and inch by inch, pushed back in. “You should see how deep I’m getting. I can see it right here.” The palm of his hand hovered over your skin, just enough that you could feel him, and he followed his cock again, letting you know how much of him you were taking.

It was a lot of him, not enough. And he was deep, but you needed more. You whined, a plea for him to move this along. He couldn’t want to drag this out, not after almost 18 days.

Again, he leaned over until he could touch you. His hips moved steadily, a controlled move that matched how strategically he was working your cunt, everywhere but the most sensitive part of you.

You hated that you couldn’t beg, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if you weren’t shaking or if your cunt wasn’t clenching desperately, you knew if he couldn’t feel it, he could at least see it. This went on for several moments, he was proud of how well you were taking him, and wanted to give you some type of award.

You were more than just caught off guard when you felt his lips against one of your thighs. Fuck. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t last long. But he went on, scattering kisses over your thighs, fucking your mouth just a fraction harder as he grew closer to your pussy.

As he licked down from your clit to your entrance, your eyes rolled back. Your hips jumped off the bed and one of his hands held you down in response. You were trembling, whining utter nonsense.

Several times, his tongue ran through you and you’d been so worked up, so wet and frustrated since he’d pulled you out of the party, since he hadn’t fucked you in a while, and this was just happening too fast. You wanted to focus on him, you wanted to apologize in the best way you knew how.

You tried to push him back with your hands on his thighs, but you were nowhere near strong enough.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh again. His hips stilled, most of his cock out of your mouth just in case. “Do you need a moment, baby?”

You debated. If you actually made him stop, made him pull out even if just for a second solely so you could ask him not to make you come...he would be outraged. He might even turn you over and spank you. But he also might not let you come at all. You would die, you knew you would.

You let your hands fall away.

“You okay?”

You hummed slowly, comfortably.

Still, one hand settled on your hip bone to keep you from moving, the other you felt on the back of your thigh close to your ass. He kissed your pussy slowly, sucking at your skin just a little, but not your clit, not yet.

He was careful as he began fucking your mouth again, worried he had pushed you too far. He waited until he was sure you were okay before he sucked your clit between his lips and slipped two fingers into you.

You whined around him as your body shuddered.

He kissed you again, several times to get you to calm down. “It’s okay, baby girl. Be a good girl for me.”

So, you understood, he realized that you wanted to object to this, but Andy was the greediest man you had ever had in bed. You weren’t surprised that he just didn’t care. You found it hard to mind as he began fucking his fingers in and out of you, sloppy, wet noises echoing around the room.

He was sucking again and you were desperately clutching at any part of him you could, his sides, his legs. You weren’t pushing him away now, you were pulling him in.

You were so close, your body arching up as much as it could. You felt tension building in every part of your body. Your own hands came up to your breasts mostly because you knew he would feel your hands moving underneath him.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He left your cunt neglected of his mouth for several moments, only using his fingers, as his cock drove down your throat hard.

You were choking loudly, your body again moving wildly as you gagged. It couldn’t have been more than a few times but they were determined thrusts, you were sure he was going to come in your mouth.

Instead, he pulled out completely and you whined shortly. You didn’t want him to go, but you couldn’t say that. All you could do was try to catch your breath. He didn’t even give you a moment to protest before his face was buried in your cunt.

In seconds, you were a mewling, moaning mess for him. Your body was so tight, so full of unbearable tension. You were shaking, sweating, your pussy was loud and soaking wet and you knew you were dripping everywhere, on him, on the bed.

He didn’t tease, he wanted to let you come because he wanted you coming all night. His favorite form of punishment was too much of a good thing, not withholding how much he enjoyed touching you.

You finished with a scream loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. Again.

Andy touched you through it until you stopped moving, save for the shaking aftershocks when he got a tad too close to your clit. When you were loose and sated on the bed, he started to sit you up.

You quickly turned to him, grasping his face. “I love you, only you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I would never look at anyone else.”

“I believe you.” Even if he didn’t, this was not the place to voice that. This...state he got you in when he was this dominant, this demanding, was not completely unlike you. It was just a very obedient, sensitive version of you that he knew he had to be careful with. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feelings.

He touched your face and that was when you realized you were crying, he was wiping away your tears. It was either from your finish or from choking on him, you weren’t completely sure. “You’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I’m okay.”

He kissed your forehead and you felt hot. As if what you two were just doing wasn’t filthy, this was what made your heart beat faster and gave you those butterflies in your stomach.

He pulled back and kept hold of your face. “What does my baby girl want?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

As his lips met yours, he began removing all the remaining clothing on either of your bodies. He moved you up the bed until he could lay your head on a pillow and then positioned himself over you.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he promised. “Keep saying it.”

As he carefully pushed into you, you continued to tell him you love him. You stared at him the whole time, willing your body to relax for him. He didn’t like it when you got so worked up, especially over the games he played in the bedroom. The thing with Neal was bad but it was over and you knew he wasn’t mad at you. He wouldn’t fuck you like this if he was.

You clutched onto his shoulders, trying to hold him as close to you as you possibly could. He was the one that grabbed your legs and cued you to wrap them around his body. His cock sliding into your pussy was a feeling you couldn’t understand why he’d left you deprived of.

Once his hips were settled against your thighs and he was completely buried inside you, you reached up to his face. You loved his cheekbones, you could trace them with your touch for days if he let you. And his beard, you loved feeling his beard under your fingertips.

He let you do this, explore him as if you could possibly forget anything after all the other times you did it. You remembered the first time he fucked you, you couldn’t stop staring, you couldn’t stop touching—he was so painfully beautiful. He was so patient with you, always had been, and now, despite how badly you felt his need to move, to fuck you, he was going to wait for you to be ready.

“You did this on purpose,” you muttered.

“Did what?”

“You didn’t fuck me. For 17 days. You…wanted me to make a scene—”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

“I could take it to court and win,” you countered.

He smirked. “Could you? What’s my motive?”

“You like being possessive. You like dragging me out of places, you like bringing me home, you like reminding me who I belong to.”

“And were you reminded?”

“No one really belongs to anyone or anything at the end of the day—”

“No,” he interjected, tone sharp. You always liked that tone. “You belong to me.”

“Maybe…”

“You are mine,” he repeated. “And you’re going to say it or we’re going to have a long night.”

“I will say it if you admit this was your plan all along.”

“You think I wanted you to flirt with Neal?”

Your stomach flipped. “I wasn’t—”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know, I didn’t mean to word it like that. I know you weren’t—”

You felt slightly like you were about to panic. Flirting with Neal? No. “Never, I would never—”

He shushed you. “I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t because you are a good girl. I promise I know that.”

You settled somewhat but that lingering feeling in the pit of your stomach was hard to ignore. Flirting with Neal? You couldn’t bear him thinking you would ever do that to him. Flirting in general with people Andy felt indifferent to was off the table unless you wanted to placate his desires. Certainly, he had to know that.

“I wanted to hear you beg,” he insisted. “That was what I wanted. I wanted honest begging because you are so fucking beautiful begging for my cock.”

You huffed. “Well, you should have asked.”

“I didn’t want to have to ask.”

“You could have given me a hint. I was going around your party trying to get your attention—”

“You had it, you always do. Now, tell me who you belong to.”

“I think we all belong to the stars.”

“No,” he sighed.

“Or the moon, people who experience menstruation especially. The moon controls us, it’s been studied by scientists. There are articles.”

“Scientific articles do not support that,” he asserted and you couldn’t help but laugh. Andy was exact. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or that couldn’t be proven. Even now, inside you, he couldn’t turn that part of his brain off.

“Baby,” he sighed as his hand came up to curl around your neck. It just rested there, a heavy reminder of all the times in the past he had held you like that, or those other times when he applied just the right amount of pressure. “I want to fuck you, I want to make you cry, I want you to be shaking after I’m done with you, I want to fill you up with my cum. Don’t you want that?”

You nodded, once again turned on beyond comprehension.

“Then be good and say what I want you to say. Don’t make me make you say it.”

“What if I want you to make me?”

“You don’t.”

Andy’s punishments were always so elaborate and such a blur. He knew how to reduce you to nothing but need, and you needed him so badly sometimes. He loved seeing you like that, but he didn’t always like taking you there. He knew how careful he needed to be during and after, so he reserved it for major misbehavior.

You brought one hand up and set it on his forearm. You could feel his skin and his muscles. “I belong to you.”

Just barely, as he stared at your face, his hold tightened. Your breath stuttered but you made sure not to get too worked up too soon. You didn’t want him to have to stop before he finished inside you.

“That can never happen again, baby.”

“I know. It never will. I’m so—”

He tightened his hand again. “Don’t say sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you say the one word you so badly needed to say.

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, I’m just saying…it can’t happen again.”

You caught the lead of his tone. “But what if it does?”

“I might have to make sure he knows that you’re mine.”

You wanted him to let the whole world know. You knew he saw your eyes light up because he smirked. “How would you do that?”

“I might have to let him see how I fuck you. I might have to show him how I can make you beg for me, or how willingly you bend over when I’m going to spank you. I might have to show him how wet you get after I mark up your ass, maybe how whiny you get when my hand is around your throat. But maybe I’ll just have to send him the video I’ve been recording tonight, how well you can suck my cock, how badly you want to.”

You were stunned for a moment—recording? Where was the camera? The idea of Andy recording you was such a turn on. You loved making videos for him, but you’d always wanted to see one where he was with you. “You’ve been recording?”

“Would you be okay with that if I was?”

“Yes. I want to watch you fuck me.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He pulled his hips back once and then snapped up noisily, pulling a moan from your throat. “You know how much I love that sound? When you can hardly breathe but you still make all those noises you know I want to hear.”

He leaned in to kiss you, hips stilled, hand still wrapped around your neck. It was brief, a reward, a reminder. You were being good and he loved you, but he was going to fuck you.

You broke away, nodding to let him know you were ready, that you wanted this. “Please.”

He rolled over so you were on top of him. He kept his hold on your neck to keep you sitting up and used his opposite hand to grab your ass. After he kneaded your skin hard enough he knew it would bruise, he spanked you loudly, harshly. Your body jerk forward, taking him in deeper than you knew was possible.

You whined, trying to pull back a little. He gripped your ass again and held you there. It was painful but exciting, you wanted him to push your limits tonight. He so rarely did, concerned with pleasing you second and treating you delicate first.

He let you go only to spank your other ass cheek. Again, you moved forward and you felt fuller than you ever had. You ached between your legs, almost uncomfortably but the idea of having him this deep in your body was making you wetter by the second. You were dripping, you could see how wet his skin was, how much of a mess he was making of your pussy.

“Ride me, sweetheart.”

You found a comfortable position, your hands on either side of his waist in the mattress. He settled his arm between your breasts so he could still see them moving as you began jerking your hips back and forth. They were sharp, abrupt movements because you wanted to come so bad, you could hardly think of anything else. Save for your disbelief over the fact that he was making you do this yourself. But you didn’t argue because the last thing you wanted was punishment for talking back.

He closed his hand more, every sound you made was short and strangled. You moved faster, knowing he was closer when he choked you harder. His free hand took one of your breasts. He was so delicate at first, a gentle, slow touch before he was pinching your nipple so hard you were whining. He smacked your breast and you shuddered, nearly falling forward onto him, but he kept you up. Mostly because he wanted to do it again to your other breast.

Every slap against your breasts—loud and stinging, always surprising because he didn’t want you to have the comfort of a pattern—was pushing you closer to your orgasm. You were mindlessly bouncing on his cock, uncaring of the pain you felt every time you came down just a little too hard for how big he was. You felt like an animal, like you were simply a victim to your body’s depraved, primal desires.

You finished first, screaming things you would be impressed if he actually understood. You could cry, the tension built over days was finally all gone.

He rolled over once more, taking his spot on top again.

You clung to him, legs and arms, pulling him in like you would die if he wasn’t close enough. You needed to feel his whole body against yours.

“Hear that, baby?”

Oh, you heard. You’d been trying to ignore it, but of course, not if Andy had any say in it.

“Hear how wet your pussy is?”

So wet. Every time he pulled out and pushed in, the noise would fill the room. You only nodded.

Since you were wrapped around him so tightly, it wasn’t difficult for him to grab your hip and move you up the bed with him. He set you against the headboard, the pillows under the small of your back, propping you up for him.

He was on his knees now for more leverage. You knew he was going to fuck you hard. “Look at this, baby.” He slowly pulled out and you turned down to watch. “See how messy you’re getting my cock?”

“Yes,” you whined.

He grabbed his cock, used it to drag up and down your cunt several times.

“Andy, please.”

He shushed you, a slow, calm action that contrasted when he smacked the head of his cock against your clit.

You gasped and your hips jerked forward.

“Stay still,” he warned.

He did it over and over, and enjoyed watching you fail at trying to stay seated on the bed. He thrust in completely, quick and hard, only to pull out and smack your clit again. This was his routine for what felt like an agonizing hour, but you knew it was nowhere near that long. You knew even he didn’t have that kind of patience.

You cried out when he finally buried himself inside you again. As he pushed forward, he pulled you down. His fingers found your clit and you were soon tumbling over that edge once more.

As he finished, he pulled you on top of him, lying back on the bed. One arm wrapped tight around your back to pin you against his chest, his opposite hand tangled in your hair tightly. He hid his face in the bend of your neck, grunting as his hips continued to rock just slightly.

He kept you there for several long moments until he had completely satisfied himself. You were intoxicated being this close to him. You angled your head as much as you could and kissed the side of his face.

He turned over, setting you on the bed as he pulled out. You watched him curiously, moving to sit up with him. He made a disapproving noise and you laid back again. Once again, he made his way to the dresser and grabbed his phone.

“You were seriously recording?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do I usually bluff?”

Nope, never.

“Now I have a reference if you ever forget how a good girl is supposed to act.”

You suppressed an eye roll.

“Open your legs.” He came closer, directing the camera at your pussy. He touched you, spreading his cum all over your skin, rubbing circles around your clit, just barely dipping his fingers into you.

You watched his face the whole time. You loved how much Andy loved you and when he stared at you after fucking you, it was hard to miss. He was obsessed with you and he never minded showing it.

For almost a month, you watched that video every day. You were fascinated by him, the way he moved, the way he touched you. After that, you started wanting to record more and Andy never minded.

requests to be tagged:

@onetwo3000​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @donutloverxo​ @kleohoneyao3​ @cevans-fics​

[fireinmywoods]

Can you explain trauma Kirk has in the cheating scene? Im new to star trek

Welcome!!! I hope you stick around for a while and become fully assimilated into the strange, delightful glory that is Trek fandom.

I can only speak for myself, but when I talk about Jim’s trauma, I’m referring to two main components (under the read-more for discussion of childhood abuse and Tarsus):

1. Jim’s abusive childhood

There’s a deleted scene from Jim’s childhood in the first movie in which his older brother Sam is shown running away from home. It‘s made clear that the “man of the house” Frank is at the very least verbally and emotionally abusive to both kids, and based on baby Jimmy’s reaction to Frank getting in his face, I don’t think it’s a stretch to imagine that it had or would later escalate to physical violence.

[Note: Because AOS and especially the extended universe are a hot mess, some pseudo-canon sources describe Frank as their uncle (Winona’s brother) while others have him as their stepfather. I’ve gone with stepfather, because I think it better explains why they stayed in that situation as long as they did.]

Sam says their mom doesn’t understand how Frank treats them when she’s not around (i.e., off-planet with Starfleet), which makes the case for a certain amount of neglect as well. Then there’s the AOS tie-in comic Operation: Annihilate, which shows the aftermath of the car incident, and in which Winona is pretty grossly depicted as an enabler of Frank’s abuse, telling Jimmy that Frank just gets mad sometimes and that he basically needs to suck it up and live with it. For the record, this comic is not part of my personal canon, as I think the exchange I’m describing is lazily characterized and does Winona unnecessarily dirty. (“He’s given us a home” - motherfucker, it’s a post-scarcity economy and you work for Starfleet! Get a goddamn apartment!) That said, I do think Winona bears significant responsibility for leaving her kids in that situation, since the most charitable read is that she wasn’t paying enough attention to realize how Frank was treating them. (I know at least one of my fandom friends disagrees on this point, and I’ll acknowledge that I have a dirty lens when it comes to childhood abuse and the enabling thereof. Your mileage may vary.)

Anyway. In this version of events, Jimmy doesn’t steal the car because he’s some innately shitheaded out-of-control rebel like the final cut suggests. In fact, Sam’s exposition tells us that up until this point Jimmy has been an exceptionally obedient, rule-following, “good” child. Here, he steals the car because Sam leaving and his own realization that he’s never going to be good enough to make Frank happy makes something in him snap. It’s a powerful moment which greatly enhances Jim’s characterization, and if you ask me it’s frankly criminal that they deleted this scene.

2. Tarsus IV

TOS Kirk is a canonical survivor of a famine and genocidal massacre on the colony Tarsus IV. Here again canon is a bit of a mess when it comes to Tarsus IV, and fanon has taken that canon and gone absolutely hog wild with it, but it is firmly established that Jim was just 13 at the time, which...woof. That’s dark as hell.

Now, it is not official AOS canon that this version of Jim was on Tarsus IV at the time of the massacre, but it’s also not official that he wasn’t. My take, which I think is shared by many in fandom, is that AOS Jim was sent there to live with family after the car incident as a sort of “get your head straight” move, and also (in my opinion) because Winona finally started cluing in that it probably wasn’t a great idea to leave him alone with Frank.

The TOS extended universe further establishes that Jim was understandably pretty messed up after the events of Tarsus, and that his father’s intervention was crucial to helping him recover and setting him on the path toward Starfleet and the Enterprise. In AOS, of course, George isn’t around to provide that support, and Jim’s already learned that he can’t rely on his mom, and he’s maybe stuck living with fucking Frank again. All of this builds on his earlier trauma in really terrible ways, and he never has the opportunity to actually heal from any of it.

Aftermath: PTSD and the cheating scene

Again, the abuse and Tarsus IV are both semi-canonical at best. However, I’d argue that they should be considered canon, because Jim’s character arc makes a lot more sense when they’re included. This double whammy of unresolved trauma and the almost total absence of emotional support go a long way toward explaining how the boy who grows up to be TOS Kirk in one timeline instead grows into the Jim Kirk we meet at the bar in 2255 of the Kelvin timeline - a “repeat offender,” reckless, directionless, emotionally detached, quick to meet violence with violence, and so very, very angry.

That’s why the scene where Spock lays into Jim for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru is so painful to me. Jim is up on display at the front of this hall, being stared at by basically everyone he knows, and Spock is criticizing him for missing the point of the exercise - specifically, lecturing him about needing to experience fear and control his reaction to it. Imagine how that would land for someone with as much trauma as Jim is carrying, who endured all he did as a powerless child, and who (in my telling of things) suffers to this day from panic attacks as a result. It’s, uh...it’s not great.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers / Horror Villains as: Animated (Children’s) Movie Villain Songs

+ A Nightmare Before Christmas 

First of all, its mostly Disney. Second of all, I hope you know that this was a struggle for me. 

Also, note, Bubba will be the only Leatherface in this post and Billy and Stu will be the only Ghostfaces. There is Norma Bates though, so sort of a consolation. 

There are links to videos on YouTube ^^

~~~

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher / Ghostface: Playing With the Big Boy’s Now (Hotep and Huy, Prince of Egypt) 

Well... they’re part of the ‘big boys’, now! They are part of the Slashers group that, uh, ‘inspired them’. Imagine instead of Egyptian Gods, they’re chanting Slasher names. 

[HUY] Pick up your silly twig, boy [HOTEP & HUY] You're playing with the big boys now! Ha ha ha ha!

[EGYPTIAN PRIESTS] By the power of Ra Mut, Nut, Khnum, Ptah Sobek, Sekhmet, Sokar, Selket Anubis, Anukis Hemsut, Tefnut, Meshkent, Mafdet... 

Chop Top and Nubbins + Bubba Sawyer / Leatherface: Kidnap Mr Sandy Claws (Lock, Shock and Barrel, Nightmare Before Christmas) 

I mean... they aren't Drayton’s minions, but they are like this XD 

I say that we take a cannon, aim it at his door And then knock three times And when he answers Sandy Claws will be no more

Yes you're so stupid, think now If we blow him up to smithereens We may lose some pieces And then Jack will beat us black and green

Kidnap the Sandy Claws Tie him in a bag

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray: In The Dark Of The Night (Rasputin, Anastasia)

Mystical man? Check! ‘Betrayal’ (As far as he sees it)? Check. Made them pay? Check; I think Nica, Sarah and all the other families he destroys throughout the franchise can attest to that. And ‘One little girl got away’? Well Andy isn’t a girl, but yeah. Check. 

I was once the most mystical man in all Russia When the royals betrayed me they mad a mistake My curse made each of them pay But one little girl got away Little Anya, beware Rasputin's awake

Drayton Sawyer: Don’t Fall In Love (Forte, Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas) 

Its such a crochety, unessessarily rude way of describing relationships to someone! I mean, I understand completely and resonate deeply with the desire to be alone and not be responsible for anyone else, but- come on! Beast doesn't share your view! Let it go! 

Its just like Drayton’s reaction to Bubba having a crush. Super cool video too! 

As soon as your heart rules your head Your life is not your own It's hell when someone's always there It's bliss to be alone

And love of any kind is bad A dog, a child, a cat They take up so much precious time Now, where's the sense in that?

Freddy Krueger: No More Mr Nice Guy (Rothbart, Swan Princess) 

A man with an uncomfortable relationship with the main female character pretending to be normal and not homicidal for a while before unlocking more power and letting there inner bad guy loose and taking great pleasure in it? Sounds familiar. They also have a similar vocabulary- except of course Rothbart is rated G. 

I'll become that nasty, naughty, dirty, spiteful Wicked, wayward, way-delightful Bad guy I was born to be

Lyin' loathesome, never-tender Indiscreet repeat offender No more Mr Nice Guy That's not me 

Inkubus: The World’s Greatest Criminal Mind (Professor Rattigan, The Greatest Mouse Detective)

‘Inkubus’ is literally a movie about him listing all his crimes over the centuries and messing with the police force because he has a bone to pick with a detective. Sounds pretty similar to me! Listen to the song! ^^

Now comes the real tour de force Tricky and wicked, of course! My earlier crimes were fine for their times But now that I'm at it again An even grimmer plot has been simmering In my great criminal brain! 

Jason Voorhees: Despicable Me (About Gru, Despicable Me) 

I... this is all I could think of!! But the more I listen to it and read the lyrics... it f i t s Jason so well! XD Please just let this slide; I know Gru isn't really a villain but he is at the start!! Let me have this. 

Why ask why? Better yet "Why not?" Why are you marking x on that spot? Why use a blow torch isn't that hot? Why use a chainsaw? Is that all you got? Why do you like seeing people in shock? But my question to you is "Why not?" Why go to the bank and stand in line Just use a freeze gun it saves me time. I'm havin' a bad, bad day It's about time that I get my way Steam rollin' whatever I see, Huh, despicable me I'm havin' a bad, bad day If you take it personal that's okay Watch, this is so fun to see Huh, despicable me

Jennifer Check: Trust In Me (Kaa, The Jungle Book) 

She’s a succubus demon. Tempting boys into a safe-feeling, docile state so she she can strike is her thing. 

Will cease to resist Just relax Be at rest Like a bird In a nest

Trust in me Just in me Shut your eyes And trust in me

Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: Savages (Governor Ratcliffe and the Colonizer’s parts, Pocahontas) 

Obviously, because of the (Inaccurate) historical relevance of both movies (Different time’s, same terrible prejudice,) and also because there is definitely a very cult-ish feel about both Governor Ratcliffe’s song and Buckman’s leadership. How easily they’re able to gather support from their people for the most horrible reasons. How horrifying it is to audiences and historians. 

They're only good when dead They're vermin, as I said And worse

They're savages! Savages!

Barely even human

Savages! Savages!

Drive them from our shore! They're not like you and me Which means they must be evil We must sound the drums of war!

Michael Myers: The Gospel Truth II (Muses about Hades, Hercules)

In a Disney movie, Michael would have others sing his song about him as he goes about his silent, determined walking XD 

If there's one God you don't want to get steamed up It's Hades 'Cause he had an evil plan He ran the underworld But thought the dead were dull and uncouth He was as mean as he was ruthless And that's the gospel truth He had a plan to shake things up And that's the gospel truth

Midnight Man: Oogie Boogie’s Song (Oogie Boogie, Nightmare Before Christmas)

A song about a “Gamblin’ Boogie Man” is perfect for the Midnight Man! He and Oogie could be pals. 

Woah! The sound of rollin' dice To me is music in the air 'Cause I'm a gamblin' Boogie Man Although I don't play fair It's much more fun, I must confess When lives are on the line Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy Now that'd be just fine

Norma Bates: Mother Knows Best Reprise (Mother Gothel, Tangled)

Norma is soooooo so so so unbelievably manipulative towards Norman (And Dylan. It just works better on Norman) and this song absolutely presents that. She can go from sweet, loving mother to spiteful, heinous bitch in two seconds if Norman or Dylan don't do what or react the way she wants them to. 

Likes you? Please, Rapunzel, that's demented

This is why you never should have left! Dear, this whole romance that you've invented, Just proves you're too naive to be here Why would he like you? Come on now, really! Look at you, you think that he's impressed? Don't be a dummy Come with mummy

Pamela Voorhees: My Lullaby (Zira, The Lion King 2)

In a opposite approach to a villainous mother to Norma, we have Pam, who was heartbroken by the camp councillors letting her son die and vowed to get revenge. She didn't know she was teaching Jason to be the Crystal Lake killer like Zira did, but she did, and the whole song does have her kind of feel to it also. 

Sleep, my little Kovu Let your dreams take wing One day when you're big and strong You will be a kingI've been exiled, persecuted Left alone with no defense When I think of what that brute did I get a little tense But I dream a dream so pretty That I don't feel so depressed 'Cause it soothes my inner kitty And it helps me get some rest

Patrick Bateman: Cruella De Vil (Arthur, 101 Dalmations) 

Never before was there a song that described audiences reaction to watching Patrick living in his daily life and hearing his thoughts better then this one. 

Cruella De Vil Cruella De Vil If she doesn't scare you No evil thing will To see her is to Take a sudden chill Cruella, Cruella De Vil

The curl of her lips The ice in her stare All innocent children Had better beware She's like a spider waiting For the kill Look out for Cruella De Vil

Pennywise (Both): You’re Only Second Rate (Jafar, Return of Jafar)

Mostly for the video and Jafar’s energy in this scene actually XD So many transformations, so many tasteless puns! I was going to give this to Freddy but its the closest thing to Penny I could think of. 

Go ahead and zap me with the big surprise Snap me in a trap, cut me down to size I'll make a great escape It's just a piece of cake You're only second rate You know your hocus-pocus isn't tough enough And your mumbo-jumbo doesn't measure up Let me pontificate upon your sorry state You're only second rate

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: Hellfire (Judge Claude Frollo, Hunchback of Notre Dame) 

A nasty filthy man who think’s he’s in the right despite being the biggest creep and monster ever? Mhm. 

*Note: I honestly didn't notice the deformed baby, Quasimodo/Thomas link until the day after I wrote this. Don't know how I feel about it. I mean, Hoyt is actually nice, in his way, to Thomas so the connection isn't totally there but onwards:

Beata Maria You know I am a righteous man Of my virtue I am justly proud

Beata Maria You know I'm so much purer than The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd 

End of Post! 🌼

(Bonus’ under the cut) 

I did think of other connections which I obviously didnt landed on but still have merit! Here! 

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher: ‘Gaston’ was considered, but that would have just been a joke XD I don’t think Stu is quite as obsessed with Billy as LeFou is with Gaston. 

Chucky: Friends on the Other Side. Obviously! That link was actually what inspired me to make this post. In The Dark of Night fits to a T though. 

Freddy Krueger: You’re Only Second Rate! Ah, its perfectttt. But No More Mr Nice Guy fits better. If I ever do a Slashers as Disney Villains post, he’ll be Jafar for sure. Or Hades. Or Scar. Or Oogie. Probably Hades. You know what? Without the gore and blood and explicit sexual references, Freddy could be a Disney Villain himself. Its not like Disney hasn't towed the line before with perverted villains. >_> (Jafar and Frollo) 

Jason and Pamela Voorhees: Mother Knows Best! Of course. 

Jennifer Check: Love is For Peasants (Barbie Island Princess) Because Jennifer thinks like this: 

Men? <<< Literally anything else. 

Patrick Bateman: How Can I Refuse? (From Barbie Princess and the Pauper) XD If Patrick were a kids movie villain, he would totally join the ranks of corrupted usurpers pretending to be trustworthy royal advisory staff. Also ‘Let It Die’, that little interruption part of another song that O’Hare sings in the Lorax and ‘How Bad Can I be?’. 

[redstaratmorning]

Headcanons and Musings of Pirate-y And Plunderous Proportions: Astarion Says What

Synopsis: Random musings and ramblings regarding and spawning from the differences between how Astarion says just one word, depending on your choices—“What?” This got very long and touches not only on Astarion’s difference in presentation in aforementioned moment, but also some discussion-thoughts to chuck onto the dashboard regarding some other elements of Astarion’s content thus far in Early Access, and some thoughts to add onto others’ speculations and wonderings (I did not save sources so pardon the lack of proper citation, oops. We’re going informal here anyway.) Spoilers for Chapter 1 BG3 scenes, plot, etc, under the cut in case someone hasn’t filtered out the tags. Trigger warning/content warning: some discussion of heavy topics is mentioned and explored, including starvation, abuse/torture, and trauma. Other topics of note for summarization include speculation on Astarion’s largely unknown as-of-early-access background and a touch of his possible pre-vampire morality leanings, possible mental state/trauma reaction in a couple of scenes, and vague speculation on Larian’s gameplan for Astarion’s arc ending. Gather thy party and venture forward, for here be dragons and lots o’ text, matey! [/stereotypical pirate accent]

“What?” Just that one word, between the goblin party and the tiefling party. If Larian keeps the body language and tone presentation more or less where it’s at now in Early Access, they are worlds apart and delightfully up for interpretation of just what’s going on in our favorite vampire spawn’s head. This won’t be an in-depth post about all the tonal and body language differences, just picking out a few due to personal constraints (ie too broke to buy this game currently.) Edit: And also a lot of other thoughts and ramblings tacked on, lol. On the one hand we have him at the goblin party, where he seems much more superficially comfortable there, knows what’s going on and knows what to expect—it feels like he’s done this kind of scene a hundred times before. The comfort of familiarity. Did Cazador throw “parties”, much like how he “invited” Astarion to dine with him? I wouldn’t be surprised if he mingled at regular dinner parties either before his turning, or perhaps after when he’s ordered to hunt for Cazador’s evening repast. I doubt the goblin party has anything as potentially horrific as what Cazador would have lined up on the nightly basis, which is why Astarion isn’t aggro’d: he’s in a position of power at this party after all, not a powerless one. A conquering hero, as he describes the MC. A Precarious position, as it turns out.

Circling back to that one word though, the way he says “what” in that scene after he propositions the MC and the MC picks the “Maybe. If you say please” line feels like Astarion’s response could be interpreted as pretty abrupt. On guard, perhaps, squaring up, offended, even perhaps lowkey challenging/hostile. Expressing social displeasure and possibly staring down the MC mayhaps? Could be, especially if Astarion’s body language remains as it is rigged now in-scene with that step forward, his shoulders shifting, the lack of a smile, that assessing glare, all combined with that flat tone of voice. The animation could just be temporary and subject to change, but if it does end up as more or less the final version of that moment’s depiction, it’s pretty interesting as a shift. I’d read it as potentially “not actually truly comfortable in this situation, just familiar and numb to it all”, especially when combined with some of his other earlier potential lines at the goblin party, such as the following: Astarion: So, what are we drinking to? Other than a pile of corpses. MC: That’s not funny. Astarion: Oh don’t be so sour - It’s a party. You did what you had to. Don’t be ashamed that you did it well. MC: I wish things had turned out differently. Astarion: And I wish I was drinking out of the skulls of everyone who’s ever wronged me. Life is tough. Although that’s not to say we can’t have a little fun. This supports the whole “has been through his personal hell and has adapted to survive it albeit not unscathed” story Larian seems to be going for with him quite nicely in the little tells and details. A sort of “take what joy you can even amidst the dark situation surrounding us” trauma-induced adaptation, coupled together with actual enjoyment on his part for killing. It’d be easy to say Astarion is moreso in his element at the goblin party, and to a degree he is—it’s one he is well practiced with in his current mindset. Compare now how he acts at the tiefling party—we can all agree he’s not having a good time, our friendly neighborhood vampire sulking in particular over the fact that “there’s a worm in [his] brain, [he’s] surrounded by idiots, and all [he] has to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar.” But the delightful thing is he’s complaining so vividly about it. The wine likely is worse at the tiefling party, seeing as they’re refugees, and the goblins had previously captured a duke whom they likely stole loot from and under orders from Minthara et al stored said goods elsewhere for a later date (likely some of said goods were consumed at the party if it happened. Edit: Shadowheart’s drunk dialogue at the goblin party mentions the goblin’s wine there being good, poor dear. Fascinating hints at her story and character in that scene though.) This is assuming Astarion is drinking wine at the goblin party, of course. He may very well be drinking something red and full-bodied there, just not made from grapes. But even in his complaints and presentation, he seems arguably more relaxed and less on guard compared to his demeanor at the goblin party. Let’s be honest, he doesn’t view goblins as equals or stimulating company judging by his various voice lines expressing his disdain, distrust and overall low opinion of them as vermin among other things. The fact that he’s willing to call the tiefling refugees idiots while in earshot of them? Definitely doesn’t respect them as a group—though he has a less negatively opined line regarding them earlier on if the caged goblin (Sazza) is killed,—which is not surprising given that MC and company at the time of the party just saved them from certain death. Astarion’s reaction however also reads as potentially at ease enough to say what he’s thinking. He’s not going to get murdered for saying so, and there aren’t any punishing power games at play with the refugees and do-gooders he’s found himself surrounded by. There aren’t any hedonistic shenanigans going on and the drinks are terrible, so it’s not an entertaining party for him, but one could make an argument that Astarion might actually be feeling more secure or at least less threatened-as-is/was-his-accepted-ongoing-norm there. Which might mean he’s feeling quite out of place, or even just not...entirely engaged with what’s going on around him and even within him as far as emotional states go. Would he casually pull the same stunt at the goblin party? If you’re a bastard to him, yes, but that’s not in the same emotional vein as his dialogue during the tiefling party at all. Loyalty from the goblins is fickle, the goblins worship the Absolute and those that are chosen by the Absolute—so long as said Chosen remain powerful enough to subjugate them and is in favor. Astarion knows this kind of power structure well: ruling by fear and power. With the tieflings? It’s not superiors-and-subordinates, it’s just...people. People celebrating surviving an event that could’ve very well and most likely would’ve ended in their deaths. Will he get to celebrate like that one day? That could very well be a painful and bleak thing to consider, and not something he wants to contemplate as of yet, based on his dialogue lines that demonstrate his fear of Cazador. How’s he supposed to get lost in the fun and revelry if the wine doesn’t even taste good to him? I don’t know wines, but I’m guessing from what little I do know and what I’ve read of flavor descriptors for wines hyped as good, it might actually be bad wine based on the adjective “sharp” when mixed with the rest of the description if the MC takes a sip. Sharp seems to suggest too many tannins, or maybe improper storage so the wine actually did turn to taste a bit more like vinegar, or maybe not enough sugar in the grapes used, perhaps? To be fair, I do believe there’s a non-conversation line somewhere of Astarion’s regarding solid food tasting terrible to him, but I can’t verify that so a pinch of salt there. Still, if his taste buds are aligned with regular living mortal ones for wine at least, RIP Astarion, he’s stuck with a terrible drink for the foreseeable night. Unless, of course, you know. ;D Compared to the tieflings, the goblins as a whole? As a group they’re a scraped together army of pillagers hungry for destruction and spoils. They don’t have ANY loyalty to you—in addition to being willing to betray you via murder immediately despite working with them when Sazza first brings you back to meet Minthara, there’s also when Minthara potentially opts to try to kill you post-goblin-party. If you persuade her not to, Minthara does mention “do not return to the goblin camp, as far as they were concerned you were destined to die tonight.” This is not a group to get chummy with, obviously. Doesn’t say good things about the Absolute’s followers in general, either, or the Absolute depending on if Minthara’s being honest about the Absolute intending that the MC dies after razing the grove. Minthara could just be lying to serve her own ends and is out to destroy any rivals for the Absolute’s favor, after all, I can’t verify that from dialogue exploration at present. So it’s not surprising that this is not a group Astarion is going to let his guard down around I’m sure, or around an MC that sided with the goblins, because fortunes can shift like the wind in a scene like that, and I think his utter lack of surprise at Minthara trying to kill you all (whether or not the MC had a romp with her) is potentially spawned because he recognizes this fact. He’s been here before, in another time, another place, with different faces, but he’s seen this play before. And the MC is just another face for the same old role of a player in this rat race for power when they side with the goblins, aren’t they? The difference this time though is: will they succeed and make it to the top? Is Astarion betting on the winning horse, or not? Far less reason and far more motivation to not be emotionally invested in anyone or anything around him because it’s survival of the fittest, and the most ruthless will be the ones who win—the MC just reinforced that perspective for Astarion, in slaughtering the tieflings. But Astarion isn’t fully corrupted yet, despite however much Cazador has twisted and tormented him so. Isn’t it fascinating, that the MC, one of the first people Astarion can actually interact with relatively freely without Cazador’s puppeteering influence hanging over him quite so acutely, is someone who might very well and very likely will have a huge impact on how Astarion develops and sees the world? For better or for worse, the MC will shape all the companions’ futures and perspectives it seems, depending on their choices. On a meta note, isn’t that thrillingly fascinating and engaging work by Larian Studios? Bravo, honestly. Continuing, for Astarion this could very well just feel like a better but complimentary and thematically continuous segment of the nightmare that is his existence under Cazador as it goes on: he’s a vampire now, and the world is only ever a power struggle between the strong and the weak, and he knows better than to ever be weak again. Kindness and virtue belonged to Before. Before he died, before he turned, before he was taken. Those are things in stories and fairy tales now, that belong to other people, other places and times, other lives—things that belong to the living, not the undead. Sentimentality, more universally-accepted morality, all of those Good™-aligned or softer feelings can feel like they have no place in his world now, on this darker path. But he knows what they are, not just in theory I think, but also perhaps knowing from memory and experience, however distant and faint. The way he speaks on many occasions has subtext that could very well suggest he wasn’t without a better side through implication and emotion. Which is not to say I think he was a shining paragon of virtue before he died—guessing based off of the dev team’s writing of him so far, I’m expecting nuanced and complex but ultimately very human (or elf if you’re being fantasy-based technical) morality with both merits and flaws, for polarizing opinions in the fandom. That being said, I’m holding off judgment on what kind of person he was before he was turned for now despite reading about pre-early-access, preliminary ideas the dev team had for his background. The reason I’m waiting to see what the dev team puts into the game for his backstory of Before, is because some of his datamined lines could be taken in a couple of different ways, and some of his emotional responses as is currently don’t track as truly Machiavellian or I’d say malevolent in nature for manipulation or otherwise. Granted, not all Evil™ acts stem from intentions to be malevolent. Sometimes people do evil both in-game and in life without really intending to, or recognizing that they do, nor seeing the harm they have caused or will cause (I’m looking at you, Mayrina.) Manipulative yes, but so far it’s looked like it’s for defensive purposes in a world that is out to hurt or kill him if given any opportunity whatsoever. Personally I actually wouldn’t even say he’s been really manipulative at all, but your mileage may vary. He lies because he’s afraid you’re going to murder him for being a vampire, and because he doesn’t want to reveal the cause of two centuries’ worth of trauma to someone he just met and likely can’t predict if they’re emotionally safe for him to interact with. Note: “emotionally safe” does not necessarily denote being sympathetic here, so much as “will their response cause me pain in some fashion?” from Astarion’s point of view, which does not necessarily require the MC to be mean to him though obviously that wouldn’t help. We touch upon why sympathy can hurt later on in this essay. And why would he expect sympathy in the other instance, regarding revealing that he’s a vampire? How often would we not murder strange vampires we just met in DND-worlds? Is that not a common response and practice in Faerun for the most part? They’re on the list of acceptable prey for a monster hunter to be kidnapped and taken to who knows what fate (probably nothing good we’re sure), and who would come rescue them? In all actuality: No one. If he wasn’t a companion he’d easily just be one more random encounter to kill—as he and all the companions are in the right circumstances, *cough cough* like when sacrificing anyone to Boooal *cough.* Astarion’s had little cracked moments where he seems to be showing genuine vulnerability, and I’d say he likely displays real genuine emotion plenty of times, just not all the time. While the vulnerable moments could be a ploy, were he the type to actually be fully acting, I’m disinclined to bet that he’d act in the way he does during those moments if he planned them out or even improvised. It could be a mix of both, where it’s both true but also an act of manipulation. Were it the last option, that would require more exploration of his character in various situations to determine imo. I still doubt that though. I think he’s a little too raw and real in his pain, anger, and aggression to say he’s being malevolently manipulative at the end of the day, at least thus far in chapter one. The MC’s choices may change and influence that, on the Evil™ route. I’ve been following some of the fantastic dash discussions on Astarion’s reaction to when the MC tries to comfort him (because of course I have, I’m here for BG3 content and Astarion content especially, aren’t we all here for the same party in his tag? Also hello fellow Astarion stans! :D I hope everyone’s having a good day), and if some of these datamined lines from Pjenn’s blog post are actually implemented and kept as canonical [link], specifically the ones Astarion says regarding heroes, I do think it ties in very strongly with some of what other folks have said regarding his recoiling reaction. Copy-pasted the potential dialogue lines of interest below: Astarion: Heroes. |said with disgust| Astarion: Heroes had two centuries to save me from my torture, but not one came knocking. Astarion: The strong had two centuries to pluck me from torture, but no one came. No, it was the mind flayers that rescued me. Astarion: I spent centuries as the victim of a corrupt man. It was the mind flayers that plucked me away from that. I very much enjoyed all the takes on Astarion’s potential motivations in his response, and I do want to chuck another idea into the fray that supports the vein of ideas that have him being truly afraid and then angry at the MC in that scene, with the speculation including those possible hero lines above as influence. Specifically, I’d like to bring in an outside comparison to part of Molly Grue’s reaction to seeing the Unicorn from The Last Unicorn animated movie for the first time, transcribed below: The Unicorn: I’m here now. Molly: [Bitter laugh] Oh? And where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent, young maidens you always come to? How dare you. How DARE you come to me now, when I am this. [begins to cry, heartbroken] Consider Astarion being shown kindness when he is now away from Cazador, not fully free or safe yet but not currently actively fully suffering Cazador’s torment all up close and personal. Consider that only on that very night before he was snatched up by the mindflayers, which might’ve been anywhere from only a day to a handful of days before this conversation about his nightmare, he was going out to falsely smile and lure some innocent—(“No innocents. You have my word.”)—or perhaps not so innocent, beautiful soul back to Cazador’s mansion to very likely die or be turned. How often must he do so? Is it every night he is ordered to go out and condemn someone else to that unfortunate fate? Do you think Cazador killed them cleanly? Quickly? Why would he, instead of agonizingly grinding out any last traces of sympathy his spawn might have through the guilt that they are the ones who “choose” who suffers and likely dies at Cazador’s hands that night? To give the illusion of choice is one abuse/torture tactic that can be used to break a soul that we see often in games: choose who suffers or dies. Cazador is unquestionably a personality who enjoys the psychological aspect of tormenting his victims, as evidenced by giving Astarion the “choice” to be either flayed or to “dine” on a rotting, dead rat, as well as other mentions of how he puts thought into torturing those around him. Astarion is still so fresh from his torment,—torment that is still technically on-going with the very real threats of resuming once more—he is emotionally bleeding enough arterial blood at the seams to fill a sea. His actions, words, and emotions so often metaphorically smell of blood, and not because he’s a vampire and the traditional role of a vampire being a predator among humanoids ironically enough, but because being a vampire spawn means Cazador. And Cazador means horror. Astarion has survived, yes, and it’s been hell. He’s still in hell, because he isn’t free yet. Not truly. It’s a desperate gasp of air, this taste of freedom, to dream that he could be free of Cazador. Imagine his feelings when he’s now in something like freedom, a reminder of what could be, what his life might’ve and likely was like once upon a time, an uncertain here-and-now where he has the possibility—just a possibility, and an unlikely one at that for most ordinary or less-than-ordinary people, not a certainty—of being free, and he’s just admitted to the horror that is Cazador. Admitted in this moment how much Cazador frightens him, how much just the thought of Cazador frightens him, how much the possibility he might be sent back to his master and having his previous tormented existence resumed truly frightens him. And the MC reaches out in sympathy. In acknowledgement that what Astarion has been through is horrifying. To look at this horror and say it is pain, and terror, and awful, that it isn’t normal. It isn’t something to ignore. It isn’t something to pretend is just everyday same old, same old, to numb and take off the edge as much as one can. That Astarion’s pain and fear aren’t to be sought out for entertainment or at best to be willfully neglected in an act of malice. That stark moment of contrast, like night and day, could bring the pain of two hundred years crashing down inside his head, all compressed into one moment. Feelings he tried so hard to survive through, ignore perhaps, suppress: fear, helplessness, loneliness, misery, anger, sorrow, hatred, pain, anxiety, distress, need. Memories, of so many instances that hurt in that moment and then continued to hurt for so long afterwards. How much must it hurt him, wound him, to lift his head for air and have a perspective outside of his suffering that is sympathetic...but knowing that nobody came to save him.  That perhaps, no one ever will, if he loses this so-called freedom and is dragged back under. That those that care, cannot help you. And that those that can help, do not care.  Why would anyone help him at this point after all? He’s a vampire spawn. A classically defined monster in the eyes of society, and he knows it. (”I’m not some monster!” / ”At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs.”) He must have been truly desperate in his starvation to chance anyone finding out he’s a vampire in the party. Not surprising, he can’t rest at the end of the day like the other companions can. He has to expend extra energy at that point to find food discreetly after fighting all day, and subpar food at that. (”Animal blood tastes like muck.” verification needed, it’s a conversational line in some branch of the morning-after he asks to bite the MC the first time) He’s not eating breakfast, snacks or lunch during the day, and he isn’t guaranteed to find food while hunting in the woods. Game might be scarce, he can be wounded or exhausted after a long day of fighting, and he wasn’t starting out in the peak of health to begin with either. He is a vampire spawn yes and apparently can take down large game such as boars to drain them, but that is a rough existence to condemn anyone to mechanically speaking. He knows what he’s risking, regardless of his int stat. But he takes that risk anyway. The character who is so survival driven, risking a very high likelihood of expulsion at best or death as the much-more-likely worst outcome of this attempt? His bite isn’t painless, and pain can wake a person up readily enough if they aren’t a deep sleeper, and how deep a sleeper are most people when in an uncertain and unfamiliar wilderness, potentially while hungry and cold, with the fretting fear of a agonizing death looming over their head? Even accounting for a lack of mental clarity from hunger and exhaustion and other factors, I find it deeply unlikely that Astarion is unaware of how big a risk he’s taking with the odds are stacked against him, rogue class or not. And even if he’s just thrown out of the group? He’s alone. Vulnerable. A target to be hunted by a much bigger, meaner predator. One that won’t kill him quickly, we can guess. His odds are much lower, on his own. Specifically his odds of not being dragged back to Cazador...assuming the MC doesn’t just turn him over to Gandrel. How terrifying is it to imagine that your suffering will never end, to be told it will never end, and then you are reminded of what it is like to not suffer for a time. To have felt the painful hope that maybe there is a possibility that you could escape an existence of torment...but knowing you very well might not? It is desperately bleak. It is no great leap of the imagination to hear Astarion saying—(or more likely thinking because this would be terribly vulnerable...but he might say something when pushed because he’s so full of sharp edges and bleeding insides still)—something similar to Molly Grue’s line in his own fashion, is it? Astarion: “[Bitterly laughing, mockingly so. As he speaks his tone breaks, an edge of raw, desperate hysteria slipping through, attached to centuries of pain turned to anger] And where were you two hundred years ago? A hundred years ago? Where were you when I still desperately thought in the deepest parts of my heart that someone might come? When I still had hope?  Astarion: [his voice turns low and venomous, raising in volume and accusation before finishing with a break on the final word “this”, a tonal admittance of how distraught and self-aware he is of what he’s had to do, of what he’s had to become to survive] How dare you. How DARE you say this to me now, when I am this.”  (the above lines are entirely fictional and are not from any in-game, data-mined, or otherwise official source or content) He’s been made to do so many terrible things, even just based off of the few lines we have heard in early access he’s been through so much horror. An hour of torture, a day, a month is so incredibly long. It can have such lasting impact on a person—PTSD, as we know it in this day and age. A year? Five years, ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred? An elf he may be, but from a human perspective...he’s been tortured for lifetimes. Even as an elf, two hundred years is a long time. More than long enough to seriously alter how someone’s brain works—people are both amazingly resilient, but also so incredibly fragile. Cazador has had all this time to play with Astarion’s brain, honestly I find it impressive Astarion has any sense of self left after all this time. That he’s still driven to survive, that he still feels anything at all. (”It doesn’t look broken. But then again, none of us do.”)  It doesn’t surprise me that he’s intensely bitter when encountering the “paladins” of Tyr—(ie Anders and company if you know who I mean—and was that a Dragon Age 2 reference? If not that is an amazing coincidence with the whole Anders-Justice-Vengeance-Demon thing there)—if the MC asks something to the tune of “Don’t you wish someone had helped you when you needed it?” Oh. Oh that had to be a painful question for him. Astarion had his basic needs denied and abused, to ask if he wished that someone had helped him when he needed that and more, and no one came? Why was he denied but the paladins get help? Why does he have to be the hero when no one came for him, when no one very well might come for him when he might still very well be in dire straits in the near future?  I can see the possible desire to inspire sympathy intended in the question from the MC, but it can be so utterly without sympathy to ask that in some contexts, and in Astarion’s case it is. He was being abused and controlled without any way out—Anders and his cohorts opted into the deal with Zariel for personal reasons, not as far as I know under threat of imminent death, and they are relatively capable of fulfilling their end of the bargain barring their current injuries at the time. They certainly have more freedom of choice than Astarion and other vampire spawn ever did, and they were not being tortured right then and there. Warlocks, referring to Anders and co., might even have the option to get out of deals, a la Wyll’s personal questline hook thus far. Astarion can’t get out of his servitude from Cazador. Cazador holds all the cards, makes all the decisions, has all of the power. To compare Astarion’s situation to his face with that of the “paladins”? I’m surprised he wasn’t spitting fury, honestly. They still have normal elements to their day to day life, despite their devil’s deal. They are not being tormented on the daily—yet. They are not in hell—yet. They can get out. They have the possibility. A possibility Astarion didn’t—until now. And isn’t that the most fucked up thing, that it wasn’t a force of Good™ that saved him, but an even bigger monster than Cazador himself? He was saved—by mindflayers, intending some fate that was likely worse for him than before. Even when the Absolute’s hand begins to be revealed in all this, he is still a pawn among monstrous masters. What heroes there are in the world, won’t come for him. They never did before, and they didn’t now. Heroes are for other people, for realities aside from his own. They are for other people, living Other lives. Not his life. Forces of Good™ swooping in to save the day, to correct the wrongs of the world and to make things Right™ just isn’t his normal. Not anymore, if ever it was. His normal was warped by Cazador a long time ago. Is it a stretch of the imagination that if Cazador twisted “dinner” to be a choice between consuming a rotting, putrid rat corpse or being flayed on a nightly basis, turning “poetry” into the memory of a “sonnet” carved into Astarion’s back with a razor over the course of an entire night full of Astarion’s own pained screams? Is it hard to imagine that Cazador also took pleasure in turning other ordinary situations one might encounter in normal life into nightmare versions as well for Astarion and his other spawn? One illithid mind-power option shows Cazador controlling Astarion by holding his chin, though without any further context. Cazador wouldn’t have had to do more than that to invoke terror, after a certain point in time. It seems highly unlikely the gesture wasn’t followed up with more pain, though. Perhaps in that moment when he speaks of his nightmare in the first conversation and the MC reaches out to him in sympathy...Astarion was reminded of something. Multiple somethings, multiple moments, when Cazador reached out to him oh so casually, and it ended in pain and terror. The way the camera is framed as of the current time in early access, the way he flinches away crying “No!” so quiet and low, his eyes wide and staring just so, how he goes so far as to pull back almost entirely out of frame and the camera slowly pans to follow him? Perhaps that is just a stand-in scene, but as it is, even now, it emphasizes that he is I would argue genuinely afraid, and reflexively responding in what is likely his first opportunity to freely respond to his traumatically induced fear. The first opportunity where he wasn’t supernaturally compelled to do exactly as Cazador ordered him to, the first opportunity where he was likely not going to be tormented further for expressing his fear, for having his main tormentor laugh and delight in his distress. The first instance where he for a split second let his guard down, and didn’t expect to be hurt—until the MC reached for him, echoing possible memories of what happened last time someone (Cazador) did that. It’s not Cazador reaching for him. But...it is not Cazador. He doesn’t have to worry about Cazador hurting him right that second, but...will the MC hurt him, like Cazador did? Will they make it look like they’re going to help him, that he can trust them, and then betray him? (”How can you be so cruel?” / “It [Raphael playing games] reminds me of Cazador, taunting his slaves with hope when he knew the game was rigged.”) But they scared him. They scared him, and perhaps for a moment he was back there, in another time and place, where he knows, where he remembers, vividly, perhaps even recently, what normally would have happened to him. And how dare they make him feel that. (“I can do without reliving that particular night, thank you.” [Nightmare about Cazador dialogue, a separate scene if you miss the insight check from the first post-nightmare camp discussion I believe.]) He’s so raw and upset, both aggressive and defensive when he speaks about his nightmares in quite a few of his lines, asking and waiting to explain just why his nightmares are truly so terrifying, especially in the second-nightmare conversation. The way he speaks there, and in other scenes, makes me very disinclined to interpret him as actively intending evil in general so much as having been shaped to be ruthless through a centuries-long trial by fire that he isn’t free and clear of yet. Based off of how he reacts on more than one occasion, I’m personally inclined to take a leaf from Wyll’s book and say I do think he has more than just potential to be good. “Good™” being relative of course to his situation and undead-life—Astarion has GREAT potential as a character to explore not only what it means to be Evil™ aligned, but also what people on the meta perceive as evil, as well as what prejudices we may carry from that labeling.  He is I think very much an excellent walking morality test and ironically a mirror for the player’s character. What kind of person is the MC, in how they treat and interact with him. He is a complicated and morally-entangled character, and it is so very easy to only read him in the here and now within the stark, daylight context of societal’s average norms without looking at the very real, very recent nightmarish Twilight Zone reality he’s lived in that echoes through his words and story thus far. It’s a marvelous bit of echoing reality and real life here by Larian, truth be told: how do you tell people about your life, when it’s been a ceaseless, unending nightmare? With smiles, witticisms, and the occasional polished lie that bleeds out pain, for some folks anyway, including Astarion. He says he’s having more fun at the goblin party, but at the tiefling party? That’s probably the first time he’s been at a normal party where he hasn’t had to obey and fear Cazador’s orders and inevitable torment during or afterwards. That’s the first time in his entire undead existence when he’s been in a social situation like this without being afraid, hurt, or manipulated. It’s not a fun party on its own by his standards, but it is a safe party for him. In a way though, safety can be boring. A luxury, yes, but in this case? For him, boring. And boring...might very well be irritating, in an anxiety-turned-irritation fashion, because he’s not being tormented right this very moment. He should be finding something to enjoy, because in his normal everyday routine? In the day to day that he would expect, that his subconscious expects out of habit? Opportunity for any form of enjoyment must be rare indeed, twisted and tainted by Cazador’s ever looming shadow over every minute of Astarion’s vampiric existence so far. It could be anxiety-inducing, to not seek pleasure or some form of happiness or comfort while there is opportunity for it, in what one perceives as a respite from constant, on-going suffering. (”Why do you insist on exhuming the past?” - when you ask about his past in camp, after you know he’s a vampire. An unpleasant reminder of an unpleasant past, why would he want to dwell on it? He has enough pain to last him multiple lifetimes. Literally.) From the deep, deep depths of prolonged suffering, it can potentially take a great deal more intensity of sensation to feel anything at all, let alone something approaching happiness. (”For the first time in two hundred years, I felt happy.” [presumed Astarion-origin line after drinking from a sleeping companion] / “I feel strong. I feel...happy!” [after MC succeeds in persuading Astarion to stop drinking from their neck after giving him permission to do so.]) This isn’t even taking into consideration how vampirism might have impacted Astarion’s psychology on a metabolic/biochemical level, so to speak. Where Larian goes with that is still to be determined, though my money’s on they give him more a murderous edge and natural inclination—not unlike a Beast-lite version of bloodlust from Vampire: The Masquerade— but still keep his core traits very much human rather than supernaturally-alien/2D-cut-out-monstrous. (Or elvhen, if we’re being fantasy-world-linguistically technical here again.) Touching on the matter of monstrous behavior though...It is a powerfully understated moment of casual cruelty that Larian allows the MC to decide once and once only, if Astarion may also drink from people or only animals. It’s so fitting I don’t believe it to be coincidence that he was a magistrate in his backstory—isn’t the MC passing a judgement too on him, a sentence to change his life for the foreseeable future, possibly forever without realizing or perhaps not caring about the full extent of their actions? And one cannot forget Wyll’s comment about the rat diet. Oh, can you not hear the resonating parallel real life pain from how those ignorant of another’s hurts might unintentionally mock the person and hurt them so? How some might apply their own morality from their own life experiences, without looking at the full extent of the consequences of their actions? A life and perspective that more likely has never been tested under the lash and upon the rack of some of life’s worst possible realities? Even if Wyll and the MC don’t mean to be, it is so very, very cruel. It is beautifully painful, Abdirak and the goddess Loviatar would be proud. (”My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel...happy!”) To be denied not just better food, but the ability to think clearly, to feel well, the actuality of being happy as a norm? It is so very hollow an existence to feel so constantly weak of both body and mind, and oh isn’t it just the richest thing, that an MC might echo Cazador’s choice and power over Astarion thusly? It’s enough to make one laugh an Evil Laugh™ of appreciation at just how unthinkingly, horribly cruel a person can potentially be while playing a Good™ character. This is actually a level of genius on Larian’s part that I wonder how many in the audience will actually look at and appreciate the subtle horror of. The horror that we do this too, in real life, sometimes without ever knowing the seemingly small, far-reaching ripples of harm an unthinking phrase or comment can do when we don’t take another’s reality into consideration—that we don’t know what it is we don’t know. It is a fine piece of storytelling, to offer up a story with so many facets to reflect upon. It’s so beautifully crafted that Astarion speaks and dresses like a noble, that he can so easily be perceived as a person of privilege at first glance should one merely look at some of his surface behaviors and inclinations—remnant trappings of his distant past most likely, from once upon a time. It’s a delightful reveal and subversion that he, I think we can safely say, isn’t that. Perhaps he was, once, but he isn’t at this point in his life, not anymore. Appearances are deceiving, and doesn’t that just tie so nicely right into some of Astarion’s potential themes and behaviors? The lies that crack open as truth and pain come bleeding out from underneath? I do wonder how many of Larian’s audience have known hunger—and not known when the next meal will happen, what it might be, if it will have strings attached? The kind of hunger that follows you everywhere, that roots down into your bones and hollows out a home there forever more? It changes how a person sees things, how they act, how they think, even when they’re removed from being hungry all the time. One doesn’t need to be skin and bones to feel like one is starving constantly,—(I very much enjoy that headcanon just to clarify, I’m not intending to throw shade in any of this or future rambling)—to be kept on a hollow diet of empty calories that are enough to keep your heart pumping, but your body struggles because it doesn’t have the nutrients it needs in the amounts it needs? To feel your mind fog over with exhaustion and blanketed despair, a primal and low level desperation whittled down into a tired and numb, anxious background static from adrenal fatigue? Miscellaneous aches, pains and problems that seem unrelated but in reality, if only you knew, were because your body can’t function the way it should ideally, because you don’t have what you truly need? A very real problem in real life, for far too many people. And oh, the beautiful, casual, so very human monstrousness Larian lets us exercise here, knowing or unknowing. It is such a powerful, understated cluster of ideas. And I think Larian knew—someone on the dev team did their homework on both traditional starvation but also what one might call masked-starvation as no doubt other tumblr folks have also speculated, just based off of what we’ve seen and because of that Happy buff Astarion gets when he uses his Vampiric Bite ability in combat. It fits right into his whole theme of “what makes a monster and what makes a man?” (Sing the bells of Notre Dame~♪) But not necessarily asking that question only of him. Rather, asking it also of the MC. This fits into the game’s whole theme with the tadpoles, the choice of using the power and turning into “Something More Beautiful” as Minthara put it, of taking the darker path, it all fits so very well. I just want to applaud this because it’s not a major story-beat moment. It’s a companion-side-quest moment. It’s going to be for the most part seen as a combat-game-mechanic and head-canon defining moment, deciding if Astarion may feed on people or not. I doubt we’d see Larian actually changing Astarion’s demeanor much in how he delivers lines with a “allowed to drink people blood” code flag, as cool as that might be. It very well could factor into later outcomes but for voice acting I doubt they’ll make an entire second/third/etc set of each line spawning from that one seemingly small choice. It makes me very hopeful that Larian can handle such weighty themes so deftly thus far—we’ll have to wait and see if they can stick the landing once the game is finished, but boy oh boy their nuance and delivery so far is strong as steel and sharp as a double-edged sword right out of the gate. The studio is in a fantastic position to explore and to challenge people’s thoughts and ideas regarding character builds like Astarion’s imo, depending on how the dev team chooses to play it out. Seeing some of Gale and Shadowheart’s dialogue trees from the goblin party, I have high hopes that the dev team will allow a great deal of exploration and flexibility all across the moral spectrums, not only allowing us the option to drag the more seen-as-good-aligned characters down paths of moral corruption,—(note: I’m including Shadowheart in more neutral-ish territory for now but the fact that she seems to feel emotionally ill—guilty, one could say—at the goblin party and is busy trying to get drunk to drown that feeling out suggests to me she Definitely does have a more good-aligned moral compass to a nuanced degree)—but also the chance to drag more seen-as-evil-aligned characters along the path to more traditionally good endings and persuade them to see the benefits of playing nice with others per more classic Good™ societal rules (subjectively speaking ofc.) But Larian is also in a very precarious place too—speaking strictly of just the one character as the focus of this essay, Astarion resonates very easily through that very real fear, pain, anger, bitterness and so many other emotions as a result of what he has survived, is still surviving through, and struggling against: trauma. How bitter indeed would it be should a character—that people with very deep, real pain can relate to—not get at least the option for a well-crafted, hopeful and merciful epilogue? Oh the sympathetic pain that Larian could reap could be pain of the very worst kind, if they condemn him to only death and darkness with bleak endings that lack nuance and care. I’ve seen some posts where people worry about Astarion not potentially having a good ending, with possible unspoken implications that he might be railroaded into betraying the MC. I’d like to say that I think a lot of his subtext, even looking at the instances where he lies and the datamined details of the voice-acting-directions, would run counter to railroading him to only ever betraying the MC. I think straight betrayal is going to run as mostly antithetical to his core themes in a way. He might betray your MC—but it will likely be because the MC betrayed him first in a myriad of small ways, or in a big way. Approval-rating-system based choices are a very real possibility too, separately or as a part of the equation naturally, in addition to your major in-game choices. That would also include the scenario of betrayal through using the tadpole powers enough to be mind-controlled into having no will of his own, much like the other characters, including the MC. I do think we have plenty of good, solid reason to be very hopeful that he will have a possible good continuation—not ending. A continuation where he manages to free himself from Cazador with the help of his companions or perhaps dare he even say friends, manages to begin the process of healing the immediate pains of his trauma and learning how to truly live with all that he’s been through and all that he’s done, to have the possibility of not only living but living both happily and well for the most part? Who knows what else Larian Studios might have in the works for him and the other companions, as well as the MC and the story of Baldur’s Gate 3. But good outcomes for all seems like it very likely could happen, for all of the companions. His wiki page’s summary tagline hook in particular offers up that implied promise from the developers to the audience, I would say, “Astarion prowled the night as a vampire spawn for centuries, serving a sadistic master until he was snatched away. Now he can walk in the light, but can he leave his wicked past behind?” What that promise is, varies from creator to creator. In this case, based on the wording, I would say that potentially implies a satisfyingly well-crafted and engaging story wherein we find out and determine if the answer to that question is yes or no, and in a DND-based RPG full of choices that have an impact on the people and world around you? In a game genre that has a history of multiple, varied endings for your companions based on how you play? That checks out. Larian so far has been handling things admirably well in my opinion, and I’m willing to invest emotionally in this story they’re telling with the trust that they will deliver a good continuation and conclusion. But on the off-chance that somehow Astarion’s endings all turn out painful and tragic on the meta for the fanbase, that the associated intentional or unintentional messages wound and grieve those who recognize and resonate most strongly with the pains he has felt? On that off-chance, in that instance where we are left bereft and disappointed because of what happened to him or any of the companions or the story itself should somehow things go awry, then it would be your right to ask Larian the very same question Astarion asked you once: How can you be so cruel?

[katherinemallory]

Gareth Mallory in No Time to Die NO SPOILERS REACTION

Yeah, so I've already seen No Time to Die... And I want to share some of my opinions on my fav character. I bet you all know which one it is haha.

(Later on I'm going to write a separate post about the whole film. Again, there will be no spoilers - I've avoided them as much as I could before going to the cinema. It was better this way, believe me, and now I have a strong desire to protect you from spoilers).

I give you this iconic pic of Mallory before I start my rant full of love and... criticism.

First of all, I loved the fact that Mallory's been given a lot of screen time. Really. I remember listening to an interview with Ralph Fiennes earlier this year - he said his role in the film would be a typical, "desk" part, so I decided not to get too hyped and not to expect much of Mallory in order to avoid disappointment. After all, M has always been a person who spends a lot of time inside his office and I thought that perhaps this film would take the role back to a more conventional formula (like making two brief scenes with M at the beginning and in the middle of the film). But in NTTD Mallory is present all the time (okay, I'm joking, it's impossible in a Bond film, but he's there for a pretty fair amount of time). I feel really satisfied, as he probably appears on screen more often than in Spectre (I don't have any proof for that, I just feel there has been more of him in No Time to Die. Maybe cause NTTD is such a long film). So, if you want to fall in love with Mallory again (by the way he's looking absolutely stunning in his shirts, suits and coats), go and see NTTD now!

It won't be a surprise if I tell you Ralph Fiennes did a great job again. I have no words to describe how much I adore his portrayal of Mallory... and in this film you can see a whole palette of his emotions and personality traits. You can see him being confident, full of anger (even fury...), bitter, abashed, worried... and he’s still a great leader. I swear, if Mallory was real, I would never ever pay attention to any other man (come on, he's a fictional character and I still don't care about real men haha).

However, I still can't get over some scenes (and a part of the plot directly connected to M) that in my opinion should have never happened in a Bond film. Or maybe those scenes could have happened, but in a less emotional form. It's not easy to explain what I mean without spoiling the film, but let's just say I don't accept some of the lines Bond said to M. I just can't accept them. They made me feel really uncomfortable and once again I realized that I am 100% #teamMallory if it comes to his relationship with Bond (and I confess this as a huge Bond fan). But at least I got a few other scenes between those two that I truly enjoyed and one of them is probably my favourite scene in No Time to Die.

This is my quick reaction. If you would like me to elaborate on this, please send me asks or write to me in private. I'm open to discuss the film and/or Mallory.

[oftenderweapons]

Girls’ Night — The Boys’ Takeover

Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen (OC), Jimin x Princess (OC), Taehyung x Lace (OC)

Wordcount: 7.2k words

Genre: smut (?), fluff, loads of fluff, angst

Rating: 18+

Hello doves! Here is the second part to Girls’ Night. I highly recommend reading part one before you read this (here is part one). 

Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. Vixen and Lace (Namjoon’s girlfriend and Taehyung’s crush) meet Princess for dinner at her apartment. After exploring the theoretical part, Vixen proposes a practical exercise. Both the women agree, however they need Namjoon’s approval first. Little do they know it will turn the whole night into a whirlwind of events.

The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).

An ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decide to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first. Also remember that Lace is a trained domme, while Vixen is a rather experienced and educated brat. 

On to Trigger warnings: swearing, discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. BDSM negotiations, punishment scene, aftercare, bruising. Mentions of riding crop and flogger. Mentions of pain kink and daddy kink. Anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit). Mild sexting. Though it is not phone sex, Namjoon interacts with Vixen through the phone, supporting and dominating her. Vixen is very emotionally vulnerable in a couple parts of this piece (jealousy, insecurity, fear of loneliness).

Here is my masterlist!

Let me remind you that seeing your likes, asks and comments helps me understand what you like reading and tells me what I should write next. Considering that I have a lot of side projects ready or in my WIPs, (AUs and multimember fics)  knowing your reactions would be absolutely lovely. 

Enjoy 💖

———————————

Namjoon’s low, raspy purr poured out of the speakers of Vixen’s phone. “Hello.”

“Hi, Joonie.” Vixen replied, a bit hesitant. A hot shiver ran down her spine.

“Hey baby. Are you home already?” he asked, his voice getting even deeper. Vixen thought of molten chocolate, the raw one, not smooth and industrial, but the handmade, traditional one, a bit sandy in the mouth. The one made by pouring cocoa in boiling water. She remembered Like Water for Chocolate, scorching desire, the feeling of a numb tongue when the thick paste covers all your tastebuds. He was all of that. 

She bit her lip to awaken herself from that wet daydream. “No, I’m with the girls. You’re on speaker,” she explained. Her voice sounded gentler than when she’d spoken earlier. She even looked calmer.

“Oh. Hello girls.”

“Hello Joon,” replied Lace.

“Hi Namjoon,” added Princess.

“How come you’re calling, babe?” he asked Vixen.

“She has a question for you,” Lace intervened, breaking the ice.

He seemed to recognise her voice. “Hi Lace. What is it?”

Vixen looked at Princess, making sure that she could explain the situation. Princess nodded. “We were discussing impact play. You know, that thing about the book et cetera.”

“Yes?” he said, remembering his conversation with Jimin.

“Well, there’s a very interesting paddle on the table right now and I was thinking Lace and I could give a small demonstration. I just wanted to know if that’s okay to you.” She paused. “I understand you wouldn’t like other people seeing me like that. However, this has nothing to do with what we do. It’s just for learning purposes.” Another pause. “You know I love you,” she said, her voice as firm as possible. “There would be nothing romantic or sexual in this.”

Namjoon stayed silent on the other end of the line. “Are you sure, love?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Is Lace the one handling you?” he questioned, protective and serious, if slightly concerned.

“Yes. If that’s okay?” Vixen said, addressing Lace.

“That’s okay to me,” Lace replied, as firm as Namjoon had been.

“Good.” Namjoon stayed silent some more. “I think Jimin should be here too. Is that okay with you, babylove?”

“Yes,” Vixen whispered, her voice too quiet before she confirmed again, this time with a louder tone.

Princess was completely amazed by Vixen’s shift. She was an ocean, calm on the surface but with so many currents and beasts inhabiting her depths.

A set of footsteps echoed on Namjoon’s end of the line. A door closing. “The girls are on the phone,” Namjoon explained.

“Princess?” Jimin called.

“Here,” she answered. “How are you, Jimin?”

“I’m good,” he chirped.

“Did you eat?” she inquired, checking on him.

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Yeah, I did.” 

“We all ate together tonight,” Namjoon confirmed.

“Good. Listen. We were discussing the book here. You know,” she announced.

“Yes, I know. You told me about tonight. You know I’m happy you are talking about this with other people who can help you,” Jimin reasoned. “Plus we’re like family at this point. And Namjoon trusts Lace.”

“You and your girl are safe with me, Jimin,” Lace intervened.

God, there were a lot of parties in this conversation.

“Thank you,” he replied.

“You’re welcome,” Lace said with a certain practicality.

“Well, Vixen and Lace were thinking of giving a small demonstration of a spanking scene. I thought I could learn a lot from two experienced people doing this to teach me specifically.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows and turned to Namjoon. “Are you okay with me listening?”

“If my Vixen is, yes of course,” he stated, matter-of-factly.

“We’re all cool here,” Vixen reassured them. “We just needed your green light, Joonie.”

“I trust you, baby. You know it,” he said with fond and ardent certainty. “And I trust Lace as long as she’s not taking you away from me.”

“Trust me, she’s a ride or die for you, Namjoon,” Lace replied, her voice unwavering.

“Good. Just to remind you who you belong to, little Vixen,” he growled.

That’s when she turned into putty. Princess saw her change, getting more pliant as she curled up on the sofa. She was physically growing smaller, the lines on her face disappearing into round plushness, her legs coming up to her chest as she turned into a tiny ball. She looks so pretty, Princess thought.

“I’m yours,” she spoke delicately.

“That’s right, babything,” he purred right back. “Lace, how are we doing this?” Namjoon asked as he cracked his fingers, trying to get practical.

“I need you to support her verbally, over the phone. I suppose I’ll be using the paddle. Princess likes the riding crop but I’d stay away from that.”

Namjoon waited for Lace to finish talking, holding himself back from interrupting her. “She likes the paddle. You’re keeping your clothes on, right, babylove?”

“Yes Joonie.” She replied.

Princess noted how his tone changed when talking to Vixen rather than Lace. She also noticed how Lace never interfered when he addressed his girl specifically, and how Vixen stayed quiet when he questioned Lace.

“Then no crop, Lace.” He recommended. “You’ll have to find someone else for that, sorry Princess.” He apologised.

“That’s cool. Thank you and Vixen for letting me assist to this.”

“Don’t worry. We like educating.” Namjoon addressed Lace once more, “You’ll need chocolate, some water and a stuffed animal. And I don’t think you’ll go that far, but have a book ready, just in case. Got me?”

“I’ll take care of that,” said Princess as she began twirling around the house, gathering all the stuff. In the meantime, Lace put away all the other toys, grabbing a small bottle and a cloth from her bag.

“Aftercare?”Jimin asked Namjoon about the list of objects.

He hummed quietly, covering the phone. “She’s more delicate than it seems. It helps calming her down after a scene.”

Jimin nodded. He had never truly had an aftercare ritual, but he was eager to build one with Princess. Being told ‘I love you’ would definitely be on top of the list, remembering how much it had soothed him last time.

“Are you all set?” Namjoon asked the girls. 

“Almost,” replied Princess, fetching the penguin plushie on her bed. “What kind of book?”

“Preferably tales or short stories, but really anything.”

“I think I have Harry Potter?” Princess’s brow furrowed. 

“That will work,” Namjoon confirmed. “Are you with me, doll?”

The more Lace listened to Namjoon, the more she understood how Vixen was so enamoured of him. He seemed to answer her needs perfectly.

“Yes Joonie.”

“Talk to me a bit, yeah love?” 

Vixen imagined him laying back, undoing a couple buttons of his shirt. “Mh.”

Jimin listened to his leader. He had seen his reassuring, calming personality plenty of times; still, seeing him talk like this to his lover was strange, curious. He had assumed Namjoon had a slightly dominant role, but hearing the sweet apprehension he used had him even more interested. It was the kind of affection he wished Princess would use. He was glad he was giving her this kind of example. 

“How was your day, sweet thing?” Namjoon asked, his voice calm and soothing.

“A bit tiring. I had that eleven am with that lady for the sculpture.”

“The lodge in the residential area, right? How did it go? Did she frustrate you as usual?” 

Attention to detail and devotion, that's a good dominant, thought Princess. It seemed such a small but important thing that he remembered these little things about Vixen’s life and job. It showed how much he cares. 

Vixen raised her voice slightly. “Barely. She wanted the statue to be painted red.”

“Wasn’t she the one insisting on natural stone?” Namjoon’s voice communicated surprise.

“I told her the porosity would not show. She threw a fit.”

“My poor baby,” Namjoon cooed at his girlfriend. “Was your afternoon any better?”

“I worked with my team, for the hotel,” Vixen sparked up.

“Did you like it?” His voice mirrored her excitement.

“I’m very happy. It is coming together beautifully. And we got those brass lamps!”

He cheered for her. “Really? That’s beautiful, love.” His tone sweetened. “I’m proud of you.”

Vixen blushed. “Thank you, Joonie.”

His voice was quiet. “It’s okay. I love you,” he repeated.

Beside him, Jimin was emotional. Vixen’s sweet voice reminded him of his night with Princess, of how tiny he felt as she spoke to him with the same calm and collectedness that Namjoon was using in that precise moment. Jimin felt warmth pervade his chest.

“I love you too, Joonie.” Vixen confessed simply, her voice bright and shining, like stars in a night sky, like the soft moonlight reflecting on a lake.

Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat. If he had her right there, he knew he would be kissing her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come there? I’m sure I can reach you in twenty,” he suggested. He knew that seeing the scene would make him want to take the reins and he didn’t trust anyone seeing how unhinged he and Vixen could turn when going through a spanking scene. Still, if she wanted him there, he would get there and hold a total poker face, simply touching her face and talking her through the scene.

“No need, Joonie. I just need to hear your voice,” she answered meekly.

“Remember that we can stop at any given moment, love,” he reminded her. “Don’t feel pressured.”

“I want this, Joonie,” she confirmed.

Jimin noticed Namjoon swallowing and nodding. Holding his phone in his hand, in speaker mode, microphone close to his mouth, he asked, “Are we ready, Lace?”

“All ready. Let me show Princess how to clean the paddle first.” Lace spritzed some sanitizer over the device. “This is regular sanitiser for leather toys. Vixen is dressed and I always clean my toys after use, still it is good manners to clean them again before a session. Better safe than sorry.” She dragged the cloth over the surface of the toy, cleaning the paddle before moving her hand aside to clean the handle, making sure it dried well and her grip was solid. “This is plain regular cloth. Always store minimum two or three pieces. Wash them after each use.”

Princess nodded.

“How are you positioning her?” Namjoon asked over the phone.

“There’s a lovely small footrest here. I was thinking of making her kneel and bend over,” Lace suggested.

Namjoon nodded again. “Is there a plush carpet? Are her knees safe? They’re delicate,” he fussed. 

Lace smiled. He was really a gentleman. “Yes.”

Jimin listened simply. He wondered how Princess was feeling about all of this. “Can you ask about Princess, is she okay?” he whispered gently.

“Jimin asks if you’re okay, Princess,” Namjoon referred coolly.

“All good,” she chirped. “Excited.”

Jimin nodded, inviting Namjoon to go on. “Babygirl, are you there?”

“Yes,” Vixen seemed to shrink further. Her lipstick looked too old on her face. She seemed to grow smaller and smaller.

“How many can you take, my love?” he asked.

Princess noticed how he kept giving her nicknames and how they affected her mindset and physical presence. Lace seemed to pick up on her thoughts, coming close and explaining: “As you can see he begins by stating his dominance verbally. He uses pet names that imply fragility and vulnerability, backing her up towards subspace. He's literally convincing her that she is tiny and frail, treating her as such. It is great power and it can cause great damage. It shows you how much trust there is between the two parties, since it’s a type of manipulation that can become hurtful if exercised carelessly. It is one of the most difficult things to learn. Be careful once you decide to do this. Always remember that you should never abuse of the power your submissive bestows on you,” Lace highlighted. 

“Of course. That’s why we have an ending sentence,” Princess stated.

“Exactly. Good Job,” Lace complimented her.  

Princess recalled her first experience as a dominant. “Last time I called him pet names and praised him plenty. I also gave him rules and warnings. And he explained the importance of the ending sentence. Still, I think I’d like to know more of this.”

Lace nodded, “We can talk about this later, or on another day. But watch this now”, she said, noticing Vixen’s behaviour. Since it was standard brat behaviour — and Jimin looked like one — Lace thought Princess should see it. 

“I want to do twenty,” She said, determined.

“You haven't healed yet,” he said, voice stern but patient. “Last I checked you were still bruised.”

“I can handle twenty,” she said, getting stubborn.

“You can’t, ____,” he scolded. “Lace?” Namjoon asked.

“Mh.” She made herself heard.

“Is she pushing it?” he asked.

“I don’t know how bad her bruises are but her mood tells me she’s pushing,” Lace said, reading through her friend like an open book. If her perspicacity ever combined with Taehyung’s intellect, those two could easily break someone if they wanted.

“Vixen, would you like to tell me or should I ask Lace?” he questioned.

Jimin shivered. That was Namjoon’s voice before getting angry. It was low, calm, deep and inquisitive, like he was simply waiting to catch her lie since he already knew the answer.

“I don’t know,” Vixen replied, so, so small.

“Please, tell me, Lace.” His tone was civil again.

Princess stared at Lace as she made a list. It was fascinating how Lace pointed out all the small signs Vixen had been showing throughout the night, all the events that pointed to her inner turmoils. “She has been keeping you away. She’s worried you’re overworking yourself to come home to her, that you’re doing too much to stay close to her. And to take care of her… appetites, so to say.”

Namjoon inhaled sharply. Jimin noticed the vein at his neck thickening and throbbing, his jaw clenching. He was, indeed, getting angry. “That’s not good, little one.”

It looked like it was only Namjoon and Vixen. Princess marvelled at how he could cut everyone else out with the way he talked to her.

“There’s more.”

Namjoon exhaled and closed his eyes.

“She’s been insecure. She fears the tour. She’s been feeling jealous; that’s what she told us.” Lace said. It wasn’t right of her to speak, but Vixen was curled up on the sofa right in that moment, not really looking like she was willing to speak up.

Princess noted how they were reconstructing the thoughts coursing through Vixen’s mind.

“Is that why you want to be spanked, Vixen?” He asked, his voice warm but lethal. “You want those bruises, don’t you. To make you sure it’s real. And to be claimed. To remind yourself you belong to someone.” He paused, rubbing his hand against his face. “Or is it for affection? Do you want special attention, babylove?”

“Joonie,” she murmured weakly.

“Answer, love.”

“I’ve been needy. And my mind knows you love me, and that you’d never betray me. Still, I’m afraid,” she confessed shyly.

“You’re in good hands now. Lace will help you when I’m away,” he reassured her, no longer mad, but maybe slightly upset. “Plus I’ll call you everyday. You’ll get caught up in your job, and before you know it, I’ll be back. First, let’s see how we handle this small trip, and then we’ll build a strategy for the tour, yes?”

“Yes, Joonie,” she answered diligently.

“What do you say if you keep the phone close to you while Lace takes care of you?”

Princess noted his choice of words. ‘Take care’. This is what it was about. Taking care, like he and Lace were simply going to show affection through it.

Lace moved close to Princess, bending to murmur at her ear. “See, he’s exorcising her negative feelings. He’s using the spanking to clear her mind. To show her that her negative mindset must and can be beaten out of her. The relief she feels once the spanking is over is what gives her the peace she needs to push her bad thoughts out.”

Princess nodded.

Jimin shrinked himself once he heard Vixen whimper, “Thank you, Joonie.”

“You’re welcome, my love.” His voice was velvetlike before he changed it, addressing Lace. “I think she can take ten. Keep it easy on the first four, then go all out,” he directed. “Did you hear, Vixen? You’ll be taking ten. No more than that.”

“Mh Mh,” she confirmed.

“Joon, I’ll be positioning her now. Any more useful tips?”

“I’ll talk her through it. Make sure her knees and neck are safe. Rub her with the paddle and then hit.” Lace held Vixen’s free hand and helped her up, cupping her cheek.

“You know I’m your friend, sweetie,” Lace cooed.

Namjoon listened to Lace prepping Vixen. He liked how she reassured his girl. He heard Vixen’s small ‘yes, I do’. He wanted to hug her to his chest.

“You know you asked this yourself, right?” Lace asked.

Jimin noted how Lace was cornering Vixen. She was literally shutting down her mind into a small compartment that contained exclusively the following interaction. That must be how she intended to keep Vixen’s sanity safe and attack only her negative thoughts.

“Yes, I know.”

“Good girl,” Lace praised her.

“Why are we doing this, Vixen?” Lace’s hand touched her hair gently, exposing Vixen’s face to her attentive stare.

“Because I didn’t tell Namjoon I was feeling needy and insecure.” Vixen replied quietly.

Namjoon’s heart constricted at that.

Jimin noticed and placed his hand on Namjoon’s knee. He saw the hurt in his eyes, the way he bit his lip as his face saddened. He knew his leader was secretly accusing himself of neglecting his lover.

“Namjoon loves you, Vixen. You must tell him these things, darling. They’re extremely important to him,” Lace reminded her sweetly.

Namjoon felt like something was missing. “Vixen, love, why don’t you remind me and Lace your safewords?”

Lace spotted his interruption, but she let it slip. He was asking safewords and this was not the moment to scold him. And after all, he was Vixen’s dom. Jeopardising him would mean putting herself in a delicate position.

“Mint to slow down, cocoa to stop.”

Lace bit her lip not to smile. She was so sweet. She registered the words clearly, associating the hard stop to chocolate, that is Vixen’s aftercare.

“That’s my lovely little one,” he praised her. “Are you ready to kneel for Lace, my love?” he asked.

Vixen was already taking two small steps, adjusting herself over the footrest while Lace moved the phone closer to Vixen’s face.

“She’s bent over, Joon,” Lace signalled before pointing Princess where to stand. The scene felt a bit surreal, however seeing Vixen’s quiet surrender was too enthralling to make Princess think of how absurd it all looked.

“Good,” he stated.

“Her knees are safe, her head is supported by the pillow,” Lace told him.

“Thank you, Lace,” he replied. “You will take ten hits, Vixen, delivered with a paddle. You remember your safewords, don’t you?”

“Yes, Joonie,” she answered.

Namjoon had expected her to call him ‘daddy’ by now, but maybe the whole situation was a bit too delicate for that.

Jimin whipped out his phone, quickly finding his chat with Princess. Is it all real?He typed.

Princess felt her phone vibrate on top of the table, quickly standing up to put it into night mode. However, when she noticed Jimin’s number, she picked it up immediately.

Lace looked at her with a strange look before Princess mouthed ‘Jimin’ explaining the situation.

Lace nodded in agreement. It was a shame they couldn’t see this together.

It’s real, I swear, Princess texted back.

It was Namjoon’s turn to look at Jimin with a confused look. Jimin simply showed the chat. Namjoon opened his mouth with an understanding look on his face.

He turned his attention back to his phone. “Remember that I love you, baby,” he repeated, his confession so touching that Jimin interrupted his silent typing.

“I love you too, Joonie.”

“Count them out for me, will you, my love?” he asked.

Princess bit her lip. The counting thing was sexy.

“Yes, Namjoon,” Vixen replied.

That was definitely the sign she wanted to say ‘daddy’. ‘Namjoon’ felt unnatural. She was holding back. He smirked, knowing that with a couple spanks she would let go.

“When you’re ready, Lace.”

Are you good? Jimin texted Princess. She noticed Lace’s grip tightening around the paddle. Her fingers wrapped around it while her thumb secured a grip across her fingertips, blocking them from opening. She prepared the paddle

“See the position, Princess? That’s how it should be.” She showed the fingers. “Notice the angles?”

Princess nodded. “The paddle is perpendicular to the arm.”

“Yes. That helps you adjust the grip. However, my wrist is rigid right now. Soft wrist means harsher impact. That’s why you should do this.” Lace’s wrist relaxed, the weight of the paddle pushing her hand down, forming a straight line from forearm to thumb. “See, now the angle is about a hundred and twenty degrees. The important thing is that the wrist is relaxed. Every blow starts with the elbow and ends with the wrist. It should remind you of a tennis racket, but with no shoulder action. Only wrist and elbow.” She explained.

Lace kneeled down beside Vixen, using her free hand to push her hair aside. “Are you all set, darling?”

Lace could hear Namjoon’s heavy breathing on the other side.

Princess used the small pause to reply to Jimin. All good. This is so beautiful.

Jimin showed the reply to Namjoon. He smiled.

“Ready, Lace.” Vixen confirmed.

“Well. While I prepare you, why don’t you remind me what you did?” Lace encouraged her.

“I kept things from Namjoon.”

Lace’s hand ran down Vixen’s spine, stopping right at the top of her buttocks, right between. Next, she placed the paddle at the top of her right thigh, rubbing the surface. “And is that a good thing?” Lace asked, rubbing slower and with more pressure.

“No,” Vixen murmured.

Lace patted the paddle against Vixen’s ass two or three times before bringing it back and letting it snap forward with a flick of her wrist.

Vixen grunted before announcing, “one”.

Namjoon tensed. “Good girl,” he said softly.

Princess could only imagine what he had said, since the speaker couldn’t make such a quiet sound travel.

Lace shushed Vixen gently, rubbing the skin delicately before moving to the other side. “And why must you not keep this stuff from Namjoon?”

“Because he loves me,” Vixen murmured.

Lace hit again.

“Two.” This time Vixen sounded unfazed.

“That’s right, Vixen. I love you,” he repeated, his voice soothing, lenient.

Jimin beside him texted Princess. This feels very good to hear.

Princess spotted Lace changing side again. Do you like it?

I think I could use some of this. Namjoon sounds so calm. Jimin replied. And he loves her a lot.

I love you too. Princess reassured him. I would do it too, if it was us instead of them. Princess was distracted by a third thwack.

“Three. Thank you, Lace,” Vixen gasped out.

Namjoon’s voice resounded softly through the speakers, but his words weren’t intelligible.

The paddle is the thing that looks like the hairbrush, right? Jimin asked.

Yes. Princess confirmed as she stared at Lace’s wrist lifting one more time. It sounds very good.

We could get one, for after Japan. He sent the text.

Lace called for Princess’ attention. “Have you seen how the sting works? I’ll do it again, slower. So you can see.”

Princess nodded, thankful and excited. 

“Look at the angle. You give an upward curve to the trajectory. Not perpendicular, but tangent,” Lace explained. “Ready, Vixen? You can stop me anytime,” she told her friend, bending down to her face to check her expression.

“I’m ready,” she replied. 

Lace straightened and prepared. Princess moved to the side to study the trajectory of the hit. Lace’s forearm charged back before snapping forward, gaining more momentum. The impact made a dryer sound, hitting Vixen’s skin only tangentially, focusing more pressure on a smaller surface. Princess hissed at the sound, her muscles contracting instinctively. Vixen screeched a little. “Four.”

“That’s my good girl. I love you so much, darling,” Namjoon reassured her, knowing how much it must have hurt simply from her reaction. Had he been by her side, he would have used his bare hand to soothe her, knowing how much his touch comforted her and pleased her.

The fifth hit came shortly after, Jimin parting his glance from the phone when he heard Vixen’s moan. His ears blushed. He had cried out just like that underneath Princess that night. And he had begged just like that. Maybe he and Vixen had in common way more things than what he thought. “Five,” she cried out, breathing heavy.

“Easy,” Namjoon cooed. “Breathe, little one. You’re doing perfectly, my love,” he hummed. “You sound like an angel, baby.”

Vixen giggled. “Thank you, Joonie,” her voice sounded lighter.

“See, that’s what a good girl does. She tells everything to her dom,” Lace said, rubbing Vixen’s left side, preparing for another sting. “Everything.”

Princess kept her gaze focused on how the paddle kept rubbing Vixen’s ass, Lace patting gently to avoid the numbness. With her eyes still set on the scene, Princess hit send to a previously composed text. I would sell a limb to see you like this.

Lace struck. Vixen hissed a ‘six’.

Namjoon moaned. “That’s a good babygirl. My little one.” He tried to hide the fact that the situation was affecting him. Arousal was making him forget that Jimin was sitting right beside him.

The other man listened to Namjoon’s words, trying to ignore his sighs and moans.

He smiled as he read Princess’ text. Are you getting worked up too? Jimin texted.

As he waited for the reply, the line was interrupted by a hard, low noise. Jimin inhaled violently, his hips inadvertently jumping at the sound. Vixen moaned. Her ‘seven’ was smoky and weak. Princess’ reply came in a couple seconds. Very, she replied.

Jimin texted back straight away. Did you get turned on that night too?

Yes, when I saw how pretty your face looked. When I heard your lovely moans.

Jimin blushed as he read the words. He was ready to text back when he saw the door open. Taehyung’s head peaked in, his face a portrait of confusion.

Namjoon turned, placing a finger against his lips in a ‘shut up’ gesture.

“Come on, Vixen. You’re almost through. Do it for Namjoon.”

Taehyung’s eyes went wide as he heard the loud thud echoing through the line, especially since it came after a voice he suspected belonging to Lace.

“Eight.” Vixen said after a long moan.

“You liked this one, didn’t you, babygirl?” Namjoon snickered.

Taehyung listened with a curious glance, sitting on the floor. “Yes, daddy.” The whispered words resounded in such silence — both in Princess’ living room and Namjoon’s room — that everyone heard them without room for doubt.

“That’s it, little fox. You said it, finally. You resisted more than I thought.” He smiled and hand combed his hair. “Do it again, will you, Lace?” he suggested, looking at Taehyung as the newcomer rubbed his face with both hands. Taehyung was hard in an instant. He didn’t know the details to imagine Lace spanking Vixen, but the simple thought had him losing his mind.

“With pleasure,” she replied.

Taehyung melted at the sound of her voice. Was she playing hard to get because she fooled around with Namjoon and his girlfriend? And why was Jimin in the room?

Another hard thud. “Oh, Nine. Please.”

“Please what, Vixen?” Namjoon asked with a velvet-like voice.

“More,” she begged.

“It’s your last one, Vixen. Enjoy it, love,” Namjoon cooed.

“Daddy, please, more,” she begged.

Jimin bit his lip, trying to hold in the need to roll his neck and beg Princess to make him that desperate. I want you to give it to me this good. He texted.

Princess replied quickly. Can’t wait.

“Ten, Vixen. Come on,” Namjoon teased.

Lace smiled darkly, looking at Princess before delivering the final blow without warning.

“Joon. Ten,” Vixen cried out.

“That’s it, Vixen. You’ve been a good girl for daddy. Lesson learnt,” he announced.

Lace took that as the final sentence. She immediately laid the paddle on the table and moved to Vixen’s face kneeling at her side. “You good, darling?”

Vixen moaned, “Daddy.”

Namjoon deactivated speaker mode. “I’m getting dressed. I’m on my way, sweet thing. Stay with me over the phone, yes?” Jimin and Taehyung both stood up, running to their rooms. Taehyung knew he needed to move fast or he’d lose his chance.

This evening was turning out way more eventful than expected.

“Wait, hyung,” shouted Jimin. He slipped on his shoes as Namjoon wore his jacket haphazardly, cussing at his Converse and how long it took to don the shoelaces.

Taehyung caught up with a pair of slip-ons, shoving a hat on his head. He grabbed the keys to his car, dangling them in front of Namjoon’s face.

He rolled his eyes, mouthing an ‘okay’. “I’ll make it in fifteen.”

“She’s okay, Joon,” Lace comforted him. “Wanna come to the sofa with me, sweetie?”

Vixen nodded, calm, her face the definition of peace as Lace helped her up.

“Are your knees okay, babylove?” Namjoon asked as they took the lift.

The signal was lightly disturbed but he heard Vixen’s reply clearly, “Yes, daddy”. He checked his phone. The call had lasted around forty minutes, but the scene had taken maybe fifteen.

“You got chocolate, Lace?” he asked.

“Feeding her right now. We’re currently curled up on the sofa,.” Lace updated him. “She looks really calm.”

“She got her endorphins. She should start getting a bit sleepy now,” he informed Lace. “Keep her awake until I arrive, please.”

“Understood.” Namjoon and the others ran towards Taehyung’s car, Jimin jumping a little as he fixed his shoe. They looked like men on a mission. Taehyung started the car and called for seatbelts. “Princess, I need the address, please.”

She answered distractedly as she sat at Vixen’s other side, offering her a glass of water. Vixen shook her head.

“Sweetie, drink your water,” Lace reprimanded.

Namjoon overheard Lace’s command. “Babylove, you’ve been a very good girl, make a final effort for daddy and drink a bit of water, will you?” he said softly as he inserted the address in the GPS.

Jimin was quiet on the backseat. He wondered how many times Namjoon must have done this. Assisting Vixen, giving her support, both verbal and physical. The fact that he was literally willing to bike all the way to her like hell was chasing him made him think how far he would go for her. He knew he would do the same for Princess. He wondered if she felt the same.

“Ten minutes, do you hear me, Vixen?” he asked, checking the estimated time of arrival.

“She’s drinking,” Lace explained.

“That’s my baby. I’m very proud of you, little fox. You are very, very loved,” he murmured, his voice so soft he could be barely heard by the others in the car. “Daddy’s coming. I’m almost there, baby.”

“Joonie, will you stay tonight?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

His heart shattered at her little voice. “Yes, yes of course, my darling love,” he turned to the GPS, almost growling at Taehyung when he stopped at a red light. “Give her more chocolate, Lace. She’s getting down. You’d better not let her shed one tear or I’m going to kill you,” he said after he noticed Vixen was speaking through a lump in her throat.

“Feeding her. Stand down, bear,” she chastised, not letting a man talk to her like that, although she appreciated Namjoon’s apprehension.

“Princess, I’m getting there too.” Jimin chirped in, hoping she could hear him.

“Tell him to take his time. Don’t run too fast.” Princess noted.

Namjoon thought whether it was a good idea to tell the girls about Taehyung. Later. “Yeah.”

Taehyung shook his head as he ran through the final boulevard before turning into a small residential neighbourhood. The road ended on a cul de sac. Parking was a complicated ordeal. He hoped the police wouldn’t pass by and leave him a bill.

“We’re here,” he said. “Do you have anything for bruises? Lotion? Anything?”

“I think I have something,” Princess said, standing up. Vixen was laying on her hip, propped against Lace’s side, her legs curled up on the cushion. She placed the penguin plushie on her lap.

“What’s the doorbell?” Namjoon asked as Jimin pushed the right button.

“Coming,” Princess called from the bathroom. She opened the pass and went back to the bathroom, looking in her first aid supply. She fished out a cream and checked the expiration date. It was still good, thank goodness.

“On the lift, darling,” Namjoon updated. The line fell.

Vixen pouted, blinking a few times.

Lace fixed her hair. “He’s almost here.” She smiled gently.

They heard the door of the lift open, a set of footsteps approaching. “Where the hell—” Namjoon loud-whispered.

Vixen’s eyebrows raised. The door opened, Namjoon swearing as he took off his shoes, almost stumbling. “Vixen, baby,” he called.

Vixen stood up, letting go of the stuffed animal in her arms.

When he appeared in the kitchen doorway she walked to him with a beatific smile on her face, his arms spreading wide as he invited her in. Princess appeared just as Namjoon picked Vixen up, helping her climb his body. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He used his forearm to prop the back of her thighs up, his other hand caressing her hair.

She whispered something in his ear. He laughed tenderly. “Yes, love.” As he kept reassuring her, his eyes made contact with Lace. He winked in greeting and mouthed a ‘thank you.’ Behind him Jimin found Princess, smiling at her before pecking her lips. “Hello beautiful.”

“Hi babe,” she replied, hugging him while holding the stick of lotion in her hand. He noticed it and stood back.

“Do you think it’s bad?” Jimin asked, worried. “It sounded bad.”

“She says she doesn’t mind the bruises, but she had old ones. I don’t know.” Princess explained. “Did you drive?”

“I did.” Taehyung’s voice rumbled from the doorway.

“Jesus Christ. Lace?” Princess called from her spot in the entryway, her voice shocked.

“What? Oh… Hi.” Lace said, noticing Taehyung entering the living room.

Namjoon turned to Princess. “Lotion? And can I use a towel for a cold compress?”

Princess nodded, offering him the lotion and heading into the bathroom to grab a small towel from the clean pile.

“Hold tight, love,” he said before using one hand to reach for the lotion from Princess. “Thank you so much,” he added, Vixen latched onto him like a koala bear.

Jimin stared at the exhausted woman. When Namjoon turned, he saw her relaxed expression, the way she nuzzled into his neck, sniffing him softly. It felt strange to see someone that affected, however it wasn’t difficult for him to imagine how good she was feeling. She looked like she couldn’t give a care in the world.

“I’d like to thank the both of you,” Princess stated, gratitude underlining her every word. “Thank you for giving me this chance. It was very meaningful to me.”

“Thank you, hyung. Thank you, Vixen,” Jimin said. Vixen smiled and nodded with her eyes closed.

Jimin smiled. Princess looked at his fond glance. It wasn’t difficult to feel soft for Vixen when she looked like this, tiny and happy.

“It’s cool, guys. Now, if you don’t mind—” Namjoon said with a dimpled smile, cocking his head toward the bathroom.

“Go,” Princess encouraged him, understanding.

Namjoon whispered something at Vixen’s ear before gently helping her down and closing the bathroom door behind them.

In the living room, Taehyung appeared in front of Lace. 

“How did you come into the picture?” Lace asked from her spot on the sofa.

“I heard Namjoon. Then I heard a familiar voice. I suspected it was you. I walked in his room during the call,” he explained. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m not the one who took that. I’m just... Thinking. I’m happy that Vixen has Joon but I feel a little bit useless since I can’t take care of her. It feels like something’s missing.” Lace emitted a small laugh. 

“I see,” he said, before offering her the small plate with chocolate. She took a small piece and smiled to him. He grinned back, taking some himself. “Is it your glass?” he asked, pointing to the object on the table. 

Lace shook her head, covering her mouth and mumbling, “Vixen”. He stood up and went to the kitchen. 

“Sorry to interrupt. May I have a glass for Lace?” he asked Princess, right before she pointed a cabinet. He grabbed a cup and found some fruit juice in the fridge, pouring some and bringing it back to the living room. 

“Fruit juice is sugary. It should pick you up a little,” he said, offering it to her. 

Lace averted her gaze and blushed, taking the cup.

He looked at the paddle on the table. The footrest. “That’s what was going on?” He asked, pointing at the two objects.

“We were just showing Princess how a scene works. Vixen was dressed. No biggie.”

“I didn’t know you...”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to talk about that. When you’re ready,” he said. He looked neutral, his stage persona currently at sleep. Lace thanked the heavens she was facing the smart, introverted, friendly Taehyung rather than the dark, domineering one.

“When you’re free, we could...” Lace suggested, looking away. She noticed her bag was slightly open, giving away the content. She rushed to close it, only making Taehyung’s gaze focus on the detail, especially since the zipper chose that moment to fail. Maybe it was because of Lace’s trembling fingers.

He kneeled close to the bag. “Let me,” he looked up towards her from below his lashes, his pupils blown wide as his fingers met hers.

She moved her hands away.

He smiled cutely, fixing the whips of the flogger into the bag before closing the zipper all the way and throwing in a wink for good measure. “Nice touch by the way,” he said, still crouched to the floor as he caressed Lace’s foot, still clad in a Pink Panther’s slipper. 

Lace looked away, blushing; but still she giggled, the tension gone. “It’s Princess’s”, she explained. 

He smiled happily. He was glad he had eased her nerves. “What about that?” he asked, motioning with his chin at the paddle, cleansing spray and cloth.

“I...” she bit her lip.

He grabbed the paddle.

Lace raised her eyebrows and exhaled. She was still in disarray because of her scene with Vixen, of course. Clearly. Nothing to do with Taehyung.

That was it.

Jimin and Princess observed the scene from the kitchen. They would talk once everyone left. ‘Talk’... 

Taehyung grabbed the spray, twisting it in his gigantic hands until he read the instructions, raising an eyebrow. He sprayed it over the paddle, on one side, then the next, and frowning he spread and dried the cleanser all over with the cloth. Finally he cleaned the handle, opening the bag only slightly enough to slip in the leather number.

Lace blushed beside him. She wanted to slap herself for the wetness she felt between her thighs.

“Side pocket?” he asked, grabbing the cleanser and cloth.

Lace nodded, biting her lip.

He smiled once more. He opened the other outer zipper and pushed the two objects in.

“How much did you hear?” Lace asked.

“Number eight,” he replied, detached.

“Oh, the d-word.” Lace said, chuckling.

“Isn’t that dick?” Taehyung frowned.

“Also dandelion, dragonfly and dilly-dally but we all know that’s not what Vixen said.” Lace stated, keeping a straight face.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if those two were having a quickie in Princess’s bathroom,” Tae murmured, keeping quiet so that the host would not hear.

“I wouldn’t, either,” Lace smiled conspiratorially.

Right in that moment Namjoon and Vixen emerged, Vixen’s lipstick completely gone, Namjoon’s hand resting around her waist. “What do you say, shall we, Tae?” he cocked his head towards the door.

Taehyung spotted Jimin’s head resting on Princess’ shoulder. “Sure.” He turned towards Lace. “Are you coming with?”

Lace looked at Vixen and Namjoon. He smirked and nodded.

“Yeah.”

Princess moved towards her guests.

“I put the lotion on the bathroom counter. The towel is next to it, I couldn’t find the laundry basket,” Namjoon told her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that. Take care, guys. Drive safely,” Princess recommended like a worried mother.

Taehyung came close and hugged her. “We’ll do.”

Princess kept him close. “She likes you. She just needs to trust you,” she murmured before Lace came within hearing distance.

Taehyung smiled. “Thank you.”

Princess raised her eyebrows at him before moulding her face in a serene, happy expression.

“Thank you for having us.” Lace said elegantly as she walked through the door

“Thank you for the experience. I’ll text you for… you know,” Princess responded. Jimin’s attention sparked up at that.

“You’ve got my number,” Lace winked. 

“Thank you again, Vixen. I hope I was a good assistant.” Princess smiled.

“Of course. Sorry for causing troubles,” She giggled. Namjoon pulled her into his side.

“That was excellent trouble.” Princess grinned. “You know you can call me whenever.”

“Thank you.” Vixen smiled fondly, her eyes filled with gratitude.

“Then, goodnight everyone,” Jimin announced, a bit impatient.

Namjoon chuckled. “Goodnight.”

The guests stopped a few moments at the door to wear their shoes. Taehyung did a double take as Lace slipped on her high boots, licking his lip and biting it as she bent over to don the zipper. Right in front of his face. He took his time before he looked away, Vixen grinning as their eyes met. ‘Holy fuck’ he mouthed.

She laughed out loud. Namjoon turned up to look at her from his crouched position. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Later,” she whispered. He offered her her right shoe, letting her grab his shoulder for support. He slipped on her other shoe before he stood up to kiss her cheek. “Let’s go,” he murmured. “Bye,” he greeted the two lovebirds in the kitchen.

“Bye,” they hollered back as the small party exited and closed the door.

The drive was quiet, Namjoon and Vixen sitting in the backseats, her head on the crook of his neck, his hand caressing her knee. Taehyung drove them to the man’s apartment, entering the private parking lot. He lived in the building in front of it. Very convenient. However, once the couple left, the doors closing with a definitive thump, he turned towards Lace in the front seat. 

“Care for a stroll?” he offered. 

The orange lights of the street lamps caught on his dark locks and reflected on his pupils, his profile outlined in a yellowy gleam, the planes of his cheeks shining in the light blue halo from the control panel.

She slouched, shrugging as she hid her face, her expression thoughtful. “Surprise me.”

[warlordess]

Ah, my main special project for this year’s Pokeshipping Week event! I have skipped meals, sleep... uh, probably some responsibilities at work but don’t tell anyone... just to finish this stupid thing on time! It’s the proudest moment of my life to know that I got to semi-successfully draw my number one OTP kissing... Alas, my artistry skills are quite limited so I made up the difference/details by writing an accompanying fanfic, which I hope you’ll all read.

Btw, the first page was originally a “standalone art” for the prompt, which is why the art style may appear a little more detailed/different in general. Btw 2.0, I absolutely loved the concept of drawing these two “blushing up to their ears”, which I did twice in this comic. So yeah.

I’m also begging people to reblog this type of stuff from me when I post it because I’m trying (and failing) to get into the world of commissioned artists.

Fanfic is below the mandatory cut!

Pokeshipping Week 2020: “If Ash was aware of his feelings during their journeys together…”

 Setting: Orange Islands, after most events taking place in the episode “Wherefore Art Thou, Pokemon?” with slight alterations to closing scenes.

 --\--/--

 Paradise.

 It’s the first word that comes to mind as the faint scent of brine wafts up her nose and the sea breeze ruffles her tied up hair around her head. She sighs and leans into the breadth of atmosphere her surroundings have presented her, so awash in it that she practically forgets about the company she’s opted to keep.

 “So,” Ash Ketchum starts abruptly, and her brow creases in reactionary frustration at the very audacity he has to try and interrupt her glorious seaside fantasy.

 Ever since first coming to the Orange Islands, Misty has felt more at home than almost anywhere Ash’s travels have forced her to go. A bratty voice at the back of her mind can’t help begging the question… What could he possibly think is worth bothering her with now?

 “So… do you think it’s true? That kissing thing, I mean.”

 Kissing… thing?

 The first word alone causes her spine to snap straight, head ricocheting against her neck enough to cause a lingering ache after. A drowsy, near napping Togepi in her arms is jostled into a more urgent state of consciousness, though the egg Pokemon thankfully doesn’t start bawling.

 “W - wait, what?” she asks before she can stop herself, and her pale cheeks burn the shade of puce as memories replay of earlier in the day. Ralph and Emily had since returned home and Tracey had actually begged to come along, hoping for a final opportunity to sketch their lover Pokemon, Maria and Tony, before Ash’s group left the island for their next destination.

 “Uh, y’know, from earlier with the Nidoran… How they battled Team Rocket, then kissed and evolved? And Tracey said maybe them kissing had something to do with that.”

 She can’t help gaping ever so slightly open-mouthed at him. Distractedly she hopes internally to herself that the persistent flush to her cheeks can be blamed on the combination of her fair complexion and the rosy sunset they happen to be watching while sitting on the pier together.

 Is he serious…? Why would he even ask me something like that? she wonders, nearly angry at the possibility of him messing with her, unwilling to accept alternatives. She faintly reminisces over how he’d stood stock still during the very scene he was currently describing, appearing mildly confused all the while. For someone as immature as Ash Ketchum, she had to admit that such a lackadaisical reaction had been rather anticlimactic at the time.

 However, apparently he’s been ruminating on the fiasco that was their latest daily misadventure ever since.

 It’s a joke, she affirms to herself, barely holding in the urge to nod at the conclusion just in case it gives him strange ideas regarding his curiosity. A joke or a prank because there’s no way…

 “Uh… We could - or, well, I’d like to maybe…” with you, he realizes he doesn’t have the courage to say (which is outrageous for one, Ash Ketchum), but the whole thing is quite new to him, obviously. “W - we could… make it an experiment, couldn’t we?”

 “Pfft!?” The sound of her scoff jars him from his briefly swelling hope and drags him back down to reality. “Stop messing around, Mr. Pokemon Master!” She’s practically laughing mirthfully at him. “You’re talking about kissing here, right? As an experiment? For what?”

 “I’m not messing around!” he blurts, tone a few octaves higher than either of them are used to, pushing them back towards the precipice of awkward silence while he tries to string his next thoughts together.

 Maybe he’s brought this on himself. He hadn’t meant to use the word ‘experiment’; it had just been an excuse in case she didn’t reciprocate his intentions… Or was it his feelings? Sure, he was curious about things enough to try for that reason alone, if he was being honest with himself but… he certainly wouldn’t have pursued conclusions to his hypothesis if it hadn’t been Misty sitting beside him at the time!

 Urk! The acknowledgement leaves his tummy knotting and tumbling over itself as he stares the redhead down, daring her to underestimate him now that he’s come this far. But of course that reckless bravery only lasts a couple seconds before he has to blank and concede the round.

 “I wanna try… I mean, with you… if you’d like.”

 Because if it’s possible for people to change when they kiss then he’d surely be interested. But only if it’s with her and the two of them were… changing together.

 “Fine.”

 “Mwah!” he yelps before he can help herself, body twitching to and fro before he collects himself and squints up at her. “Wait, really?”

 Her mouth a grim, thin line and her cheeks bright enough red to bely the truth, she looks him in the eyes, then away long enough to softly clear her throat, then back at him, and shrugs nonchalantly.

 And he doesn’t know it but all of these mixed signals she’s giving off are because she’s calling his bluff. Or so she thinks.

 Thanks to his trademark ignorance, he presses forward with the plan, slowly leaning in. Consequently, the lapping of the rising tide below them and the setting sun sinking on edge of the water in the distance disappear and only the two of them are left in the world.

 With every millimeter of space lost between them, Misty’s shoulders stiffen a little bit more…

 Eep!

 … Her grip on the drowsy Togepi ever so slightly tightening…

 It’s gotta be a joke!

 … Her lips pursing to almost nothing, eyes widening while her brows disappear under her fluttering fringe.

 Ash would n-e-v-e-r--

 She’s not running away so…

 Her internal screeching is cut short at the last second when she sees him out of the corner of her eye, grabbing his cap and wrenching it around backwards (amazing that he has the foresight to know it would get in the way during a moment like this) before finally closing the last inch or two of distance, his lips covering hers in an understated, chaste kiss.

 The static buzz that promptly replaces any previous faulty transmission causes the kiss to last longer than either of them expects, not that they know what to expect, seeing as they’ve never kissed anyone before.

 Misty’s hyperfixation on most recent events transpired eventually causes her grasp on Togepi to slacken, leaving the Pokemon to slip an inch or two toward the edge of her knees. Maternal skill kicking in, the redhead immediately snatches her baby more firmly back under one arm, the other one reflexively soaring out and knocking Ash away…

 … And straight over the side of the pier, into the water.

 A resounding splash! carries back up to her, followed almost immediately after by her former partner in… something… sputtering, spitting, coughing in an attempt to catch his breath again after breaking the surface, glaring halfheartedly up at her as she pokes her head around to ensure his safety.

 “Um, whoops…?”

 “Guh,” he begins, biting back the part of himself demanding her repentance for such behavior, and he tells himself it’s not because his lips are still tingling just so in response to their activity coupled with the sight of her flushing magenta once more against a perfectly accented skyline.

 Instead he opts to call out Lapras and hitch a ride back to shore, pulling off his socks, shoes, and jacket vest along the way to try and shake or wring the excess water out of them. She meets him at the boardwalk a few minutes later, baby Pokemon still clasped snugly in her arms, handing him the backpack he’d been forced to abandon a short time ago.

 Later they’ll be forced to feed Tracey some sorry excuse as to how things have ended up the way they have, and they’ll decide as a group that it will be better to stay in town for the night so that Ash can keep from getting sick from the persistent sea breeze adding to the chill from his unexpected swim. The two of them will likely refrain from much direct interaction and Tracey will chalk it up to their latest fight (which, after both nearly physically attacked him earlier for comparing them to Ralph and Emily, he’ll know better than to say a single word about).

 And, though sleep will be anxiety-ridden and fitful, morning will wash away the intensity of their actions and Ash will have his answer; yes, people kissing truly does lead to evolution, and it’s highly anticipated, that they’ll get to experience this change together.

--\--/--

I cannot quite explain how weird it was to write Ash as the semi-mature one during a romantic interaction with Misty. Whew, what a wild ride... But honestly? If he’d known about his feelings during their travels together... and if the anime had paid a little more attention to their romantic relationship... this might have happened. Lol.

Mm’kay, see ya tomorrow! Reblogs are love (no offense to likes)!

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

BTS Reaction: You are their celebrity crush and they meet you backstage

Namjoon

Namjoon had seen you post on your social media that you were going to be attending their concert tonight. He had never felt so nervous performing up on stage before. And you were in the front row too. He saw you every time he walked to the right side of the stage and he felt his heart flutter slightly in his chest every time the two of your eyes met. Especially when your face broke out into a wide grin every time. You even waved and winked at him and he almost forgot the words to the song he was singing. 

It’s now after the show and Namjoon is sitting in the chair letting the staff take off all his makeup when Jin bursts through the door. 

“Jin? What are you doing?”

“Thank me later Namjoon!” He rushes back out and a few moments later after the staff is done fussing over him he goes to leave. When he opens the door he sees you standing there, shyly fidgeting with your hands. 

“Y-y/n?!”

“Hi! Um, Jin gave me a backstage pass he said you wanted to meet me? Although I must admit I have no idea why.” 

“Because he has a big fat crush on you that’s why!” Jin yells from down the hall. 

“Oh my god I am going to kill him.” Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. When he finally looks up he sees surprise evident on your features. 

“You have a crush on me? Oh if my bandmates were here to witness this they would be freaking out because literally all I talk about with them is how you are my biggest celebrity crush. I have your photo card in the back of my phone, look!” You bring your phone out to show him and sure enough he’s looking right at himself. He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. 

“I guess maybe I can let Jin live another day then. Listen I know it’s late and everything but we usually get something to eat after the show. Would you like to come to dinner with me? I’d let to get to know you. The real you. Not just the celebrity y/n.” You blush and smile at that. 

“I’d really like that.”

Jin

Big Hit had decided to do something a little bit different for this concert than they had for ones in the past. Certain ticket numbers were also given a backstage pass to see how they prepare for the shows, take a tour of everything behind the scenes, and then at the end of this they would get to meet the members before they had to get ready to go on stage. Jin knew by now they would soon be walking to the room where they all sit to calm their nerves before the show started. So he decided to plop himself down on the couch as a surprise for the army that would be coming there shortly.

He heard voices in the hallway approaching the door which was soon followed by yells of surprise when they saw him sitting casually on the couch. 

“Jin! You are supposed to be getting your hair and makeup done what are you doing back here?”

“It’s done already. It doesn’t take very long for this handsome face.” He hears a giggle that is all too familiar to him and his gaze snaps to the left to find you, his celebrity crush for the past 6 month standing there. 

“Y-you’re y/n!” 

“Indeed I am. And you’re Jin.” 

“What are you doing here?!”

“It just so happened one of my tickets was the lucky one that got the back stage tour. And who gets to meet the other members too.” The other fans are glancing between the two of you and Jin decides to pull himself together long enough to speak to you like a normal human being. 

“Well, that’s great then. I guess I will get to meet you officially shortly then.” He waves at all of the other fans and they are beginning to file out of the room and continue on with the tour. You are the last one to leave but before you can make it too far out the door Jin lightly places his hand on your shoulder and pulls you back into the room. 

“Hey! Jin what are you doing? Let me go I need to stay with the group!”

“No please wait a minute I just.. Okay gosh I was not expecting this but now that you’re here I just have to take the opportunity to tell you something.”

“Okay? What’s up?”

“This is going to sound really stupid, or weird, I don’t know. But I have been really crushing on you for the past months and I just wanted to know if there is a chance you would maybe go on a date with me?” He says everything in a rush and you almost think you misheard what he said. 

“I’m sorry? Did you just ask me on a date?”

“Yes.. I did.. You don’t have to say yes though you can shut me down it’s alright. My pride might hurt a little bit, but nothing is ever gained in life without a few risks right?” You can see the tips of his ears turning red in slight embarrassment and nervousness as he confesses to you. 

“So, let me get this straight. You, Kim Seokjin, The guy I have had the biggest celebrity crush on for the past year or so is asking me on a date?”

“Yes?”

“I accept.” 

“Good. When are you free?”

“Tomorrow? Evening? Say around 7?”

“Wanna do dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Good glad we had this talk.” You both look at each other in silence for a few moments before you both burst out laughing. 

“I better get going, before they assume I’ve snuck off and done something to you. Give me your phone I’ll give you my number.” He does and you text yourself so you both have each other’s number. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, see you.” He smiles at you and brings your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. You blush and pull your hand away before scurrying out the door to catch up with the others. “She’s so cute, oh gosh! What am I going to do with myself?” 

Yoongi

Yoongi was backstage talking to Hoseok. They were walking down the hallway heading towards the dressing rooms to get ready for their performance. 

“Yoongi I don’t see why you don’t just talk to y/n. She’s here right now, backstage somewhere I am sure. This could be your big chance to make a move!”

“Move? What move? The only move I will be making is hastily towards the exit if I see her.”

“But why? You’ve been crushing on her for such a long time now! You listen to her music all the time and just look sad or absolutely smitten. Come on she probably has a little celebrity crush on you too. Every time she has described her ideal type it’s almost been an exact match to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you not listen to her last interview? She described you to a T. Doesn’t outwardly show affection but loves to show they care and love someone by how they take care of them. Loves holding hands, a bit intimidating but really is just a big softie, good sense of humor. That’s you.”

“She doesn't even know me Hoseok. And I don’t really know her either. I just know that she's very talented, we have similar taste in music, and she’s very kind, and sweet, and funny, and passionate, and-”

“S M I T T E N.” Yoongi pushes him backwards playfully, not realizing you were walking fairly close behind them until he was pushed right into you. You yelp and almost fall over but Yoongi quickly turns around and grabs you to pull you back up before you could fall. He didn’t notice it was you at first because he was looking away in embarrassment. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were behind us or I never would have- wait a minute.. Y/n?!”

“Um.. Hi Yoongi.” 

“Oh god did you hear our conversation?”

“I might have... I didn’t mean to eavesdrop I swear! But I had to head back here and I heard my name mentioned and I just couldn’t help it.. okay I totally meant to eavesdrop I was curious.”

“I am so embarrassed this is awful.” He groans into his hands as they cover his face.

“Why are you embarrassed? Hoseok is right you know.” He drops his hands immediately and his eyes widen.

“Wait, seriously? You were thinking about me when you answered that question?”

“I was.. Sorry if that’s a little weird I know we don’t know each other but.. the glimpses I see of the real you and not just the stage persona well, I really like who that person is.” Yoongi can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as he smiles at you.

“Well we could get to know each other better? You want to meet up after the award show?”

“I’d love to!”

Hoseok

Hoseok was walking back stage with Jungkook when he saw you wandering around looking lost. 

“Hyung! Now’s your chance go talk to her!”

“Jungkook I can’t do that I’m too nervous! She’s just so cute look at her.”

“But she’s lost. And by the looks of it she’s coming this way now go!” He shoves him forward and Hoseok loses his footing almost running right into you. 

“Uhm.. Hello I’m y/n. I am kind of lost, I was supposed to find dressing room E but I seem to have made a wrong turn somewhere.” You grin sheepishly and twirl your hair around your fingers, a nervous habit that Hoseok had noticed when you were talking up on stage earlier to accept your groups award. 

“I’m Hoseok! But you can call me Hobi. And I know right where that is, I’ll take you there.”

“Oh no you don’t have to do that if you just point me the right way! I am sure you are very busy preparing for your stage performance too.” 

“It’s no trouble. Believe me. I’m heading back that way anyway because it’s pretty close to our room.” He sees a faint blush on your cheeks as you smile at him. 

“Thank you!” Hoseok walks much slower than usual in order to spend more time talking with you. He can’t help it. You’re just so adorable and sweet. And it’s when you laugh loudly at something that he says that he finally has the courage to ask you out. 

“So, um... I know this might sound kind of weird but I might have a small crush on you. And I was wondering if maybe after the show if you wanted to come with me to get something to eat? There is a restaurant that not many people know about so we wouldn’t have to worry about being seen.”  You stare at him for a moment in shock.

“Is this actually happening right now? Oh my gosh I have had a big old crush on you too and I never in a million years thought you would want to go out with me. But yes! I’d love to!”

“Okay. I’ll meet you back here after the show then. Good luck y/n!”

“You too, Hobi. Fighting!”

Jimin

“Hey Jimin! Isn’t that y/n?” 

“What where?!” Jimin turns around and glances around the room, only to see there is no one in the room but him and the other members. “Ha ha very funny you guys.” 

“You’ve been on edge all night Jimin. And this is our dressing room why would y/n be in here?”

“I don’t know okay! I just know that her group is here which means she is around here somewhere and I am so nervous to run into her.”

“Aww, Jimin! Your crush on her is adorable.”

“No it’s not. I like someone that doesn’t even know I exist.” He slumps in his chair and Jungkook lets out an incredulous huff.

“Seriously hyung? Y/n knows who you are trust me. I don’t think there is anyone at this award show that doesn’t know who you are.” 

“But she doesn’t know the real me, only the stage persona. I want her to know who I am. And I want to know her too..” He rests his head back and stares up at the ceiling when suddenly the door to their room is opening and who should be standing there but you.

“Oh god I am so sorry! I thought this was my dressing room I am such an idiot. Why did they number the doors instead of putting the bands’ names on there.”  You go to close the door when Jungkook calls out after you.

“Wait! Hey, you’re y/n right?” You blush and look away. 

“Y-you guys know me?”

“Of course! We know all the groups here tonight. You’re really good. Your vocals and dancing absolutely kill poor Jiminie here every time.” He smacks a hand on Jimin’s shoulder and he quickly shrugs it off.

“Shut up Jungkook!”

“Oh yes our Jimin here is a huuuuge fan of you he talks about you all the time!” Jimin’s face is bright red as he hides his face in his hands and you are standing there in shock. 

“Is that true, Jimin? You’re my fan?” He lowers his hands for a moment and immediately feels his nerves vanish when he sees the sweet smile on your face.

“Yes! I mean I think you’re amazing er your dancing is amazing yes.” 

“That’s so cool to hear coming from you. I really like you too- I mean your dancing! I really like your dancing as well.” 

Taehyung chuckles deeply from the other end of the room where he’s sat in a chair getting his makeup touched up. 

“Jimin just ask y/n out already this is painful you both clearly are crushing on each other.” 

“Tae!”

“What? You were never going to say anything so I did!”  They begin bickering back and forth as you stand there awkwardly listening to them argue. You clear your throat loudly and they stop and turn to you.

“So... I guess if it’s pretty clear we both would like to go out and get to know each other better why don’t we do that then?” Jimin is surprised by your boldness when you seemed so shy earlier. “You want to maybe to get some dessert or something after the show? There’s an ice cream place I know of that’s open really late if you’d like to go with me.”

“Yes! I’d love to!” You smile and wave goodbye to everyone. 

“I’ll see you after the show then, Jimin. Bye for now!” You smile sweetly and wave and Jimin is left there with his mouth hanging open slightly in surprise and his hand still raised. 

“You’re welcome.” Taehyung mumbles.

Taehyung

You were currently being shoved along by your fellow group member toward where BTS was sitting. It was in between the sets currently and the cameras were not rolling for a while as there was going to be a commercial break while they prepared for the second half of the award show. 

“Stop it!”

“No! You’ve been crushing on Taehyung for so long now and there is no one sitting by him right now so I am not letting you pass this opportunity.” You roll your eyes and try to fight against her but she’s stronger than you. She continues pushing you along until you are about 10 seats way from him. Taehyung sees movement out of the corner of his eye and turns his head. As soon as his eyes meet yours they widen slightly and he looks away. 

“See? He wants nothing to do with me let me go!” 

“Not happening. Go get your man.” With one final shove you are now standing right in front of him. He looks up at you and you feel like the wind is knocked out of you when that signature sweet boxy smile is directed at you. 

“H-Hi Taehyung.” 

“Hello y/n. Are you and your member fighting?” 

“That? Oh no we just had a um.. disagreement I guess. We’re not seriously mad at each other though.”

“Ah, I see. I was going to say you’re more than welcome to sit with me for a little while if you want to. Show shouldn’t be starting again for another 10 minutes.” You nod gratefully and sit next to him. Taehyung might seem cool and collected on the outside, but inside he is internally panicking because holy shit he is actually talking to his celebrity crush right now. He is still in the middle of his mini freak out and admiring how beautiful you look when he notices you staring at him as if you’re expecting him to answer. 

“Sorry! Did you say something?” You giggle. 

“You space out an awful lot Taehyung. I asked you if you’re nervous at all for your performance tonight.” 

“Of course I am. We always have a little bit of anxious and excited nerves before going on stage. But we have some big stuff planned and I can’t wait to show army and everyone else! It’s going to be really cool.” 

“Ah I can’t wait to see it. Your performances always blow me away.”

“Really?”

“Of course! You guys are all so amazing. You’re extremely talented and I admire you a lot.” Taehyung smiles genuinely at that and his eyes seem to light up at your compliment. 

“Thank you. It means a lot to hear that coming from you.” Before you’re able to ask him what he means by that your bandmate is yelling for you.

“Y/n! They changed the order we’re performing next after they present the next award we need to go!”

“Shit. I’m sorry Taehyung I need to go now. Thank you for letting me sit with you though.” You get up to walk away but before you make it too far you hear him calling after you. 

“Wait!” You turn around abruptly and he almost runs right into you.

“Can I get your number?”

“You want my phone number? Why?”

“To talk to you more, silly.” You blush but take his phone from him and enter in your contact information. “Good luck y/n. Not that you’ll need it.” He winks at you and you swear your soul has left your body. 

“T-thank you!” You run to join your group back stage. While you’re being fussed over to prepare for your performance your phone goes off with a text message. It’s a selfie of Taehyung doing his signature V pose with a bright smile on his face. 

You’ll do great y/n! I believe in you! I’ll be cheering you on loudly from the seats so please look for me. 

You smile and set your phone down. As if you’d be looking for anyone else. 

Jungkook

Your table was right next to Jungkook’s. And you had caught him staring at you more than once during the show. He seemed to be zoned out, mouth slightly hanging open and eyes wide as he gazed at you but as soon as you turned your head and looked back at him he immediately turned away. And you could swear there was a faint blush on his cheeks when he did. After the 3rd time this had happened you saw Jin slap him on the back and say something that caused him to turn even more red and push Jin away from him. 

“Fine then if you won’t talk to her I will.”

“Hyung no don’t-”

“Hey! Y/n, come here for a sec.” You point at yourself and tilt your head in confusion. 

“Are there any other y/n’s around here?”

“Probably but I am just going to assume you are talking about me.” You get up and slide your chair over to sit next to Jungkook, who seems to shy away from you and sit closer to Jin. “So what’s up?”

“Nothing really! Just wanted to tell you that you did an amazing job up on stage before! Your rap was amazing you really commanded the stage up there.”

“Oh! Thank you! I can’t wait to see your performance as well you guys always kill it.” 

“Well, I think you’ll especially love Jungkook’s performance here.” 

“Oh? Really? What do you have planned?” 

“N-nothing! I mean.. it’s something I just don’t want to spoil the surprise but, it’s just me doing a solo dance to a remixed version of Save Me. Um, there’s water and it’s really cool. I had a lot of fun practicing for it and I can’t wait to show people.” Jungkook seemed to have really opened up when talking about performing, and you could tell he was truly passionate about it.

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing then. You’re a really good dancer and an amazing singer. Your voice gives me chills.” You pretend to shiver for added dramatic effect and a small laugh escapes Jungkook. His nose scrunches up and you have a sudden urge to poke it. 

“Ah you should have heard him going on and on during rehearsals. ‘I need to make this perfect because y/n will be attending this show.’ It was rather cute to be honest.” 

“Hyung! Stop it!” 

“Is that true Jungkook? You were worried what I would think of it?” He looks at you, eyes widened slightly but he nods his head before looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his hands. 

“Well I already think you’re great so I am sure I will love this performance too.” He continues to mess with the rings on his hands as if he’s debating whether or not he should say anything further. You wait patiently and give him time to decide whether or not he wants to speak to you further. 

“Well, I’d really like to know what you think of my performance after the show. Do you maybe want to talk more when we’re done?” You smile warmly at him and it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I would love to. You maybe want to go get some hot chocolate or something? My friend owns a 24/7 cafe and if I tell her we all want to go there after the show she can close down for a little bit so we can just have the place to ourselves.”

“Actually I’d um.. like it to just be the two of us. If that’s okay with you! If not that’s totally fine I can-”

“Even better. I’ll tell her to expect us later today then. The cameras are going to go back on soon though so I’m going to go back to my table. But wait for me after the show okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you later then y/n.” You scoot your chair back over. After you are out of hearing distance Jin smacks Jungkook's shoulder. 

“You’re welcome for setting you up on a date with the love of your life!”

“She’s not the love of my life I just.. have a crush on her.” 

“Either way, a thank you hyung would be nice.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

“Thank you, hyung.” 

[mothman-is-my-girlfriend]

He's riding down the airstrip to see her.

She looks so thrilled and surprised 🥺 This song choice is absolutely superb for this scene, too.

The parallels to the earlier scene. I'm 😭 Jack and Phryne always do parallel each other so well.

FUCKING FINALLY!!

This kiss is amazing. The way he yanks her towards him. His hand cupping her face. Her small little hand on his hip. Her lipstick on his mouth after. 🥺 100/10. A kiss for the ages.

I think I will forever be disappointed that we only got 2 kisses from them in the series. I understand that so much of their appeal if their banter and intellect playing off of each other, and that by showing them actually being a Real Couple™ on screen may have lost the magic they had, but we really did deserve more kisses. Or even just one more. Saving their first genuine kiss for the final moments of the show is almost a cop out.

Jack's tone of voice is so lighthearted here. I can barely handle it. His smile. 🥺

It's definitely really interesting that pretty much the final shot of the series is of Jack. I know there is one more of the plane, but you can't actually see Phryne from that distance.

In a way it's fitting, because he's watching her leave. And we as an audience are watching her leave. We re watching her leave together. This is (well was, until the movie) the last time we will see her on our screens in new content. Is this the last time he will see her? (Hopefully not!! I don't think it will be.)

She waves to him!! 🥺😭

Ok. That's certifiably cute. I'd like to think she keeps looking back until he's out of sight. And the way the end card is a heart zooming in instead of the usual circle.... I- 🥺 Yes. This is definitely not the last time they will see each other.

And that's it! Other than the movie, and perhaps going back through the folders of episodes that I forgot to post, this will be the end of my liveblogging for the show. I'm feeling very bittersweet right now.

I enjoyed discovering this show so much! It really gave me something to look forward to during quarantine. I made myself only watch one episode a day (or every few days) to make it last longer. I loved liveblogging this and seeing everyone's reactions to my thoughts. Thank you all for welcoming me to this fandom so nicely, I honestly haven't felt so immersed in a fandom ever. Liveblogging gave me structure that helped me stay sane during this crazy time, and talking with other fans also helped me not fall into a depression. I genuinely can't describe how much this show means to me - and being a part of this fandom is nearly half of that feeling. I think this experience will really stick with me for a long time. Again, thank you all so much for joining me for this.

I hope to be liveblogging to movie soon! My next day off from work is Saturday. I think I'll take the next few days to enjoy some post-finale fanfiction and speculate about what happened after to our pair of detectives. Feel free to DM me and we can chat and feel emotional over that finale scene together ❤

[yellowocaballero]

thoughts on writing gertrude? loved your latest evil con update :)

Oooh, thanks for asking. Truth be told that the story was the result of me stress-procrastinating on a large project at work due that day, so the writing process was basically me slapping the keyboard a few times for about two hours and then posting it without really even looking it over. See if you can catch ALL of the grammar mistakes, lmfao!!!

But it was a lot of fun to write a POV I’d never written before, especially one so different from everybody else’s. She’s also a very distinct personality and character, with a lot of ‘rules’ that I had to come up with on the spot, lol. What I really did enjoy was structuring the story similarly to some of the older TV shows I like, like Murder She Wrote or Columbo. I also adjusted the internal narration and the style to be a little more flowery or film noir, with a focus on evocative yet precise language and ruminations, because I needed to drive home that she and Agnes were absolutely pyromaniac girlfriends and that she felt very much A Certain Way over her that she was refusing to admit. 

(Some characters ruminate and some characters don’t. As a writer, try to stay away from long rambling paragraphs about a character’s thoughts, because that’s dull as shit. However, whenever I write from the POV of Archivist!Sasha and Gertrude, these two people absolutely follow logical trains of thought compulsively as part of how they problem-solve or plan. They have constructive and directed trains of thought that they use to problem-solve/narrate the story. If you’re writing from Jon’s POV, he ALSO has these trains of thought, except they are nonconstructive, rambling, illogical, and soaked in stress and anxiety. I have Jon think about how he FEELS and I have Sasha and Gertrude think about what they’re DOING. But also avoid long paragraphs of internal narration cuz that shit’s boring lol.)

But writing from Gertrude’s POV was very interesting to me, because I couldn’t use her to give the audience emotional cues. Normally when you’re writing something gross you rely on both description/word choice and the POV to signal to the audience that it’s gross - the spider’s legs were luminescent, scratchy, carapaces, shifting and groaning under their unnatural weight, but more importantly Sasha felt bile rise in her throat and was hit by a stab of nausea. You can only get so scary actually describing something, you also have to lean on emotional cues through loaded language and other character reactions. But with Gertrude, the whole scene in Jon’s bedroom (that, to be clear, was a bedroom coated in giant spider webs containing a half-human half-spider teenager groaning in agony and lashing out violently) was described clinically and professionally. Because she’s a professional, and she just wasn’t fucking scared by it. Because we’re soaked in her POV, we aren’t scared either. The scariest thing to us is how much Jon is clearly suffering. But, on the flip side, when Jon’s acting and looking more human, the most normal and innocuous things he does becomes dangerous and threatening, because Gertrude’s running her little logic programs telling her that he’s dangerous. 

Beyond the joys of POV, characterization wise: Gertrude brings narrative conflict wherever she goes because she is instantly half a step away from throwing down at any moment lol, which makes her perfect for instilling tension and conflict in a story. The main tension of that story was Gertrude and her distrust/horniness for Agnes, and Gertrude and her distrust of Jon - something she ultimately only dropped because she had decided to dismiss him as a threat (orrr diiddd sheeee....). Also, exploring her and Agnes’ relationship was FUN AS HELL, because I was constrained by how little these characters wanted to talk about what they were feeling. The ‘I’m only talking to you for business reasons’ thing was lifted from WTNV, which is the platonic ideal of romance. It was fun to also kind of explore from an outsider’s perspective how weird it is that a 60 year old fire messiah (she looks more like mid-twenties, it’s a testament to how Gertrude thinks of Agnes that she thinks of her as an older woman) is best friends with a teenager and they’re both very protective of another, younger, spider-teenager. Her relationship dynamics with the other characters are fun too: she denies it but Gerry is obviously like a nephew to her, she’s entrenched in a massive Will-they-won’t-they with Agnes, and she has people in her circle, but she obviously really doesn’t actually give a shit about or love anybody but herself. Gertrude cares about herself, and keeping the world safe, and that’s it.

AU notes: so basically what happened was that Agnes had her Crisis of Faith earlier than in canon, and she’s kept up very secret and limited communication with Gerry since the 1999 Evilcon (they were banned from any evilcons afterwards, so they never met up again as kids after that and they never saw Jon again). Instead of killing herself she decided to run away instead, so she asked for Gertrude’s help in torching any of her cult members who stopped her from leaving. They Fell In Love and had A Night of Passion and Spoke Longingly of Running Away Together before Gertrude’s sense of duty to her job made her break it off. Agnes is now enthusiastically trying to live out that ‘real life’ thing when she gets word that Jon’s spider-person transformation has started happening and that he had to run away, and is now homeless in London. Gerry’s been meaning to go ditch his mom and live with Agnes too, so basically Gerry and Agnes teamed up to go rescue Jon and falsify their identities so they can all try to live the normal life they never got. They’re best friends and continue living together until we see them all as adults in the main story. Agnes and Gerry are MUCH happier than in canon and Jon’s...well, he’s having a time of it, but he’ll end up alright! Right?

Also the only music I listened to while writing the whole thing was Billy Joel, Jim Croce, Hall and Oates, etc. :) Thanks for the q!! 

[she-who-the-river-could-not-hold]

#100daysofwriting | days 029-035

a daily writing challenge created by @the-wip-project // tagging fellow writers joining in on the fun: @thelittlefanpire, @hopskipaway, @kinetic-elaboration, and @easilydistractedbyfanfic

I spent the last week in the mountains with absolutely no wifi, so I’ll use this one as a catch up post for all of the past ones before jumping back in with new entries!

For the first time in a while, I didn’t spend any time thinking about writing. Didn’t do any daydreaming about it, didn’t do any note taking or planning on my phone. Partially because I was finally seeing friends for the first time since 2019, but even during downtime I didn’t. I took photos and worked on some drawings. And damn it felt good! Not to say I’m ending my relationship with writing, and I know it’ll feel rusty coming back after a decent break, but it felt really good to clear my mind and enjoy other activities. So in that vein, I might just answer a few of these entry questions and call it for these posts as I warm back up!

What’s a common theme in your writing?

I really enjoy writing stories where the setting feels like its own character. Where the details and interactions of the characters are impacted by the location as much as the plot. I also really like writing about characters dealing with personal struggles and how they can fight through the hard times to make the right choice in the end! Ideally that’s what most of my stories focus on and I’m hoping to lean even more into the gray area for the struggle portion of that.

What kind of gestures are your characters often using? + How do you describe sounds?

If I had a nickel for every time my characters looked at each other and I overly described their eye movement, I’d be able to quit my job. I’ve even googled phrases for describing eye movement because I feel like I’ve overused all of the ways. One day I’ll find a new way to write it or to focus on it less and work on other gestures to convey interactions.

As for sound, I think this made me realize that I usually focus on describing textures of things (fabrics, skin, items) than I do sound. I’m really curious to skim some of my past work and see where maybe I’ve done it, but also now use this as a chance to try and use it more in my stories. Especially since my whole goal is to make my stories feel like you’re watching a movie, that would be a good thing to improve! I do think that’s why I write so much about eye movement, I relate it to a headshot in a film where a viewer would very distinctly see a character’s reaction. So I definitely want to up the use of sound descriptions in my writing now!

Fic(s) Worked On:

I didn’t actually work on anything as I wrote earlier, but here’s my upcoming list of things that I want to focus on this month!

Finish outlining my Bellarke, Tarzan AU –– I’ve got a decent idea going so far where I want to take it, but a lot of my earlier writing for it was stream of consciousness for scenes that I just had in my head for it. While I do still really like those scenes, I really need to flush out a full outline so I know where I’m taking it. The goal is to keep it a one shot if possible!

Rework the outline for oh but dear, the sky is low –– I have other fics I need to focus on before this one, but since I want to attempt this D&D style of dice rolling for outcomes within the outline, I definitely need to start working on this earlier than later. The reactions to this fic have been very luke-warm anyway, so I think this will help me stay excited about this fic since none of the follow up chapters were prompted and I can now turn it into a very personal project for myself!

Finish writing my Clurphy, X-Files AU –– this fic isn’t due until October but I’ve probably got about 70% of it written so I really would love to focus on the remaining sections of it and get it out early!

link to my ao3 | masterlist of these posts

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Almost Fate P2

Forty Quinn x Reader

Warnings: Nagging, other stuff probably

Notes: This is a sequel to an earlier writing of mine. I’m currently posting this because the other requests are taking longer for me to proof read. I guess it’s because I’m being pulled in multiple directions by school work? Surprisingly, the Visual Arts department was not built for online classes.

Part One -> https://hamburgerhelpersotherhand.tumblr.com/post/612751263373934592/almost-fate

RING!

What on earth is that noise?

RIIING!

You suddenly bolt off the bed you didn’t realize you were on. “SHUT U—“

Your roommate stands before you, one hand on her hip and the other holding out her phone. She turns off the ringer and stares you in the eye.

“So, now you wake up?” She says sternly. “Where were you last night? You didn’t pick up your phone.”

“It’s a long story.” You reply with attitude laced into your words. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you were now definitely aware of your hangover.

“How did I get in here? I didn’t have my keys last night.”

“I brought you in. You were passed out in front of the door.”

You gasp theatrically. “... Are you going soft on me now?”

“Never mind that, Y/N. Where is your bag? You had absolutely no ID on you. That’s dangerous.” Your roommate is starting to sound like your mother. You won’t admit it, but you kind of appreciate it on a good day. That’s not today. “Besides, you weren’t answering any of my texts or calls and you left the room a mess! I swear, the thought of you being kidnapped crossed my mind.”

“Please stop talking.” You blurt out and point to your head. “Migraine.”

“Then answer me this: Where is your phone and WHY isn’t it on you?”

“My phone?” You’re confused for a moment, but your memories catch up quickly. “MY PHONE! Dammit, I think I left it at the bar.”

“The bar? You were at a bar in the middle of the week nearing finals?” Here we go. “Y/N... I know you’re more responsible than this.”

“Look, I have today off. I can make it all better. I’ll even pick up a new textbook!” You give her a thumbs up, a symbol that everything will be alright.

“Something happened to your textbook?!” Oh okay, now you’ve really stoked the flames.

“While you’re already as pissed off as you’ll ever be, someone also snatched my purse with my dorm keys and wallet inside...” You’re already beginning to change into some clean clothing.

“Y/N, do you not care about your grades here?” Your roommate is looking more concerned than angry now.

“I do care.” You reply with a sigh. “Yesterday was just not my day. Nothing went how it should have and I really wish my closest friend was supporting me rather than nagging me.”

Ouch. She’s thinking over what you said. Honestly? That’s all you could ask for.

Never mind your roommate. You make your way out of your dorm, heading to the Student Services office to report your issue and get yourself a new key.

~

You don’t have a phone, no purse in sight and you definitely don’t have a wallet... but your new key is snuggly sitting in your back pocket and you find yourself with some cash in your secret pocket, given to you by the bar man you met last night.

You... really can’t remember his name, but you knew it was something odd.

While you do remember feeling guilty about the money, you also remember telling yourself to spend it well. Specifically to buy yourself a new textbook before class next week. Whatever is left can go towards your new phone.

Your mind is thinking of how funny it would be to suddenly run into your robber as you walk along the streets of Los Angeles. Would you ever see that hideous yet sentimental purse again?

You left campus a while ago, but didn’t bother getting yourself a cab. It wasn’t worth the little money you had.

Whatever. You need a textbook. Where do you find this exact textbook at this exact time of year?

A bookstore.

And this particular grocery store, which you so happen to find yourself walking by, seems to have one inside, lucky you!

~

You’ve stepped into Anavrin once or twice before.

You’ve never bought anything, though.

None of this appealed to you, but the first time you stepped foot in here, you followed behind your friend as she bought fresh lemons for a school project.

The second time you found yourself wandering Anavrin, you thought they would have a public bathroom. You didn’t bother asking, so if they did have one, you couldn’t find it and concluded that they did not.

Now, you found yourself wandering the rather pathetic excuse for a bookstore. You followed the alphabet and quickly made your way across. Your head was pounding and you felt restless. The faster you got this done, the sooner you could just sleep in a dark room and cry.

“Come here often?” You’re startled by a familiar voice and instantly recognize his stupid looking grin.

“Five.”

“It’s Forty.”

“Right.” For the sake of your own dignity, you hope not to make that mistake again.

“Wait. Let’s do another take.” He puts his hands up and turns around on his heel. “One, two, three...”

He spins back around to face you, a smile crossing his face once again. “Come here often?”

You can’t help but smile back and play along. “Only when I need a new textbook.”

“Oou, you think a grocery store carries college textbooks?” Hes cringing and you slap yourself in the face from a sudden wave of embarrassment.

How could you be so stupid...

“I’m kidding!” He puts his hands on your shoulders and lightly shakes you out of your own head. You definitely still feel that migraine. “They should be in storage and, since I’m feeling so incredibly generous, I’ll get Will to take them out for you.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You exclaim, very much surprised but mostly thankful for narrowly avoiding such an embarrassing scene.

“Hey old sport—“ He lets go of your shoulders and waltzes over to the bookstore clerk with an apron. You’re just out of earshot, but you can tell that this Will guy seems very disinterested in whatever Forty is saying.

While whatever happens over there happens, you begin to drift away and squint around at the rest of the store. You’re not particularly drawn to anything, but your head is killing you and you’re starting to really feel it.

Maybe... just maybe... you should of asked your roommate for a Tylenol or two.

“Are you doing okay?” He asks, a confused smile on his face. “You look like you’re about to burst into tears.”

“Heh, yeah. I think I might have a slight hangover. I’m fine though, really.” You’re smiling at him reassuringly.

His grin widens as he inhales. “I have just the remedy for your hangover!” His hands rest on your shoulders. “It’s called sleeping in.” Very funny. “Now, you probably haven’t heard of it but—“

You swat your hand infront of his face to grab his attention and frown. “I tried that but I have a bossy roommate.”

“Then maybe you should sleep over at my place.” His hands slide down to hug your forearms, his eyes are looking through yours for a reaction and you’re suddenly made aware of his statement.

“That’s—“

Thump!

“Your requested box.” Will huffs out and gestures downward.

You peer down to the large single cardboard box by your feet and immediately spot the familiar cover of the textbook you’re looking for. You reach down and fish it out of the box.

“This is it.” You say.

“Great! Hey, old sport... I’m gonna need you to bring that box back to where you found it.” Forty claps his hands together and Will reluctantly obeys. If only to get Forty out of his hair.

“Thanks for the help.” You say as you double-check the textbook in hand.

“It’s on me, so don’t mention it.” He gives you a charming wink. “Seriously though, don’t mention it because Calvin will have an aneurysm.”

He has quite the way with expressing himself. For the most part, Forty can keep a straight face as he describes the oddest of situations. You believe it’s one of the things that makes him a hoot to converse with.

“Do you have a phone number? I think my broken phone equals no phone number gag has run it’s course.” He states.

You cant help but laugh and nod your head. He hands you his phone and you quickly add yourself as a contact.

“I should get going now, before my roommate thinks I’ve gotten myself killed. Thank you again for the textbook!”

“See you around, Y/N.”

“Later, Five.”

“Forty.”

You did it again.

~

It’s been a couple days since you stepped foot into Anavrin.

The encounter with Forty was surprising and really did catch you off-guard. There’s a possibility that he had mentioned Anavrin by name and that it entered your subconscious when choosing where to go... but you felt that was too far of a stretch to call it your reality.

The equal possibility that you were fated to enter that exact building also crossed your mind, but you shot it down just as fast.

Well, anywho, you’ve gotten yourself a new phone with the same old phone number. Forty still hasn’t tried contacting you, but he may simply not be aware of your phone’s status.

Not that contacting you matters! You two are just acquaintances, right? Drinking buddies at most.

You’re currently sitting at the desk in your room, studying the useful new textbook Forty had given you free of charge.

It was very kind of him, but you really didn’t want this to become a regular occurrence. Not letting you pay and/or paying for you? That felt like a problem waiting to happen. Don’t get yourself wrong, you appreciate the gesture wholly, but you hate to be in a position of owing something to someone.

Like... that kiss.

Oh, look at you now. You’re blushing and you know it.

RING!

That’s... your phone. That’s your phone!

But wait, you’re studying. You really need to get your grades up with this final project if you want to stand a chance to get the hell out of this school.

But...... what good is studying if all you’re really doing is getting lost in your own head? You slam the textbook shut and answer the phone.

“Hello?” You say.

“Good, you gave me the right number. I almost believed you’d play me.”

“Is this Forty?”

“Hey! You got my name right.” He says excitedly. “So,” His voice moves into a whisper. “What are you wearing?”

“Um... sweatpants and a tank top?” You mentally slap yourself when you hear him chuckle and realize what the question implied.

“Hot.” He laughs and you smile embarrassingly. “Anyway, I would hate to cut into your studying but... Can I take you out tonight? I think you’d absolutely adore the place I had in mind.”

You feel you face heat up. “Uh— I finished studying earlier. What did you have in mind?”

“It’s a surprise, silly!” His tone likes to change a lot, as you’ve come to realize in your short time with him. “Wear something special for me, yeah? Okay, I’ll pick you up at 8.”