#the way their kisses get more and more intense the longer this scene goes on 😳

[maxescheibechlinichacheli]

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon – Losing Their Virginity

As much as I appreciate that a lot of the NSFW writing on here portrays the guys as being absolute experts at sex… they had to start somewhere. That is where these come in. Keep in mind they are all above 18 and paired with female characters written in a third-person POV. I am going to write one for each of the brothers. Mikey is first because he is my favourite.

Aged-up TMNT at least 18.

18+ Readers only. Contains sexual content

Raph's Story

Leo's Story

Donnie's Story

Mikey's Story

Mikey is not only the first of his brothers to get an actual girlfriend, but he ends up being the first to officially lose his virginity. It happens when he’s 18. Mike was actually pretty well-known in the party scene. Patrolling every night and saving innocent bystanders did have its advantages sometimes. Mikey sometimes would stay out until three, four, sometimes five in the morning, much to Leo’s frustration from having his sleep-deprived brother join them for morning practice.

This is where he meets her. Like him she was a free spirit and loved the party scene. He suspected she was doing it as an escape but since it was none of his business he didn’t think to ask her. She’s the first girl in his life to actually respond to his flirtatious ways and actually reciprocates. Naturally he falls HARD for this girl. They play around in a kind of will they won’t they for a bit until she actually makes the first move and invites him back to her place. He goes, not expecting anything to happen but remains hopeful that he’ll at least get to kiss her on the cheek or something.

Much to his surprise, it is so much more than he could have ever dreamed. Cuddling during a movie leads to some gentle touches, which leads to actual kissing to a full-blown makeout session. Even more surprising to him is catching the scent of her arousal. She liked this, and when she brings his hand to touch her breast, he could swears he could’ve died and gone to heaven right then and there. Still, a small part of him knows they need to talk things out before things go any further. After all, he’s still a mutant turtle. There are certain… differences that she needed to be aware of.

Luckily for him, she’s more than understanding about his anatomy and they go no further than second-base that night. He pretty much asks her to be his girlfriend when the night ends and is over the moon when she accepts. From that moment on he takes every opportunity to brag about his beautiful girlfriend. It drives his brothers crazy and by the end of the month they’re ready to kill him.

Mikey is very attentive and sweet as a boyfriend, but he’s hyper-aware of the fact his girlfriend is human and is secretly terrified that sex might not be possible at all due to how different he is. He does voice his concerns one night when things start to become more intense between the two of them. She assures him that no matter what, she still wants to try. The admission makes Mikey feel like crying.

Their first attempt is a week later. Mikey is so, so incredibly careful and doing his best to stay calm when he enters her for the very first time. He gets about halfway in, locks up, and freezes before looking incredibly disappointed and ashamed with himself. He’d finished before they had even gotten started. That night is a lot of reassurance and soft words of comfort from his girlfriend who tells him they can try again.

The next time Mikey is determined to last longer and actually does his research on how to satisfy his girlfriend first just in case they can't go all the way. He successfully reduces her to a flushed and panting mess beneath him while looking very pleased with himself. She playfully tells him to wipe that smirk off his face and tells him she’s ready. Mikey takes a few steadying breaths before pushing inside of her, going achingly slow. Upon entering her completely he’s trembling slightly as he tries to control his breathing and keep his body from getting too excited. Incredibly, she is able to take all of him, and despite feeling the obvious stretch and a slight burn, she's as excited as he is.

Mikey doesn’t move for several minutes, afraid it will be over before it even begins and babbles away nervously, asking her if she's alright and if he's hurting her. She caresses his face, assuring him that no matter what, she wants this, it feels good for her, and she wants him to feel good too, no matter what. He does an experimental roll of his hips and sees her face change into one of awe and pleasure. A few slow thrusts later, and he’s able to get into a steady rhythm. He can tell she’s enjoying it too from the soft sounds of pleasure he hears and the slight tremble of her thighs as he slightly increases the speed of his thrusts. Very quickly, he realizes that he’s going to finish before she does unless he does something about it fast. Luckily he’s had plenty of practice, and with a few circles of his thumb on her nub, she jolts and cries out. She tightens around him, and he’s completely unable to hold back after that. In the aftermath of their lovemaking they’re both breathing heavily and pause a moment before they both break out into giddy laughter together. Mikey doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy as he is in that moment.

Upon arriving home, Mikey knows his brothers can smell what he did. They’re bracing themselves for him to brag about being the first to go all the way with a girl, but he doesn’t. He’s entirely changed from the experience and wants to keep the moment to himself. It’s not like it’s some badge of honour that he needs to parade around the lair. It was special and intimate, and he feels so incredibly blessed and lucky to have had this experience. He’s hopeful about the future and feels a little lighter moving forward in his life.

The End

The others are yet to come, stay tuned!

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

Cold

TW: angst, smoking, drinking

Word count: 1011

The cold from the cement beneath you is more intense than you expected, the rough grit of it digging into the back of your thighs, that biting cold crawling up your skin and settling in your chest. 

It's enough to make your hands tremble, clutching that half-finished cigarette like it’s a lifeline. But it’s not enough to make you want to go back inside, the music thumping from inside the house party is no longer fun, no longer inviting. Now all it does is irritate you. 

Things were going so so well. You felt normal for the first time in six months. Up until that familiar leather jacket caught your eye, until those icy blue eyes caught yours for exactly half a second, not a shred of emotion in them.

That fun buzz from the shots had immediately turned sour in your stomach, twisting until you were absolutely sure you were going to throw up at that very moment. It had been rude, the way you’d shoved past the handsome blonde that had been mid-conversation with you, but none of that mattered when it felt like all the air in your lungs had been snatched away.

You’d made a beeline for the bathroom, barely making it before the tears had started, before you could properly muffle yourself with the back of your hand (Not that anyone would hear given how loud the music was, anyways). But even that precious solitude the bathroom provided wasn’t enough. You needed out, you needed out that instant.

You barely remember pushing past the bodies, head down, cheeks streaked with mascara. Don’t even remember sitting down really, or pulling out the worn pack of cigarettes- a brand you never even really liked. 

Its crumpled in your lap now, that pack. Staring up at you, taunting you. Lighting one up was a mistake, because now all you taste as you take a drag is him. It tastes like his kiss, bites the same way too, leaves a lump in your throat like he did.

But you will not keep crying, you will not be that girl. That girl who makes a scene when she sees her ex at a party. At least that’s what you desperately try to convince yourself as the tears well up again. 

At least he’s not out here.

Not that you expected him to be, not that you even hoped he would have follow you out. At least not out loud, anyways. You’re glad for that absence, for that blatant uncaring. 

You wish you hated him for that, wished you were angry. That would be easier, but a tiny part of you was glad he was here, even more so that he didn't seem affected by your presence.

Because deep down there is something so deeply comforting about being unwanted. Especially by him.

Something so familiar in those long silences, those unanswered texts, that obvious avoidance, followed by empty promises. At least there was a pattern, something to expect. He did always warn you he was bad at relationships.

And then, like the universe senses your relief, the music gets louder as the door opens, and you don’t even have to turn to know who it is, that laugh cut short as he realizes who’s on the steps in front of him. 

You don’t turn, eyes closed as you pray he just goes back in. But of course that’s not how this is going to go. There’s quiet footsteps, and then familiar boots settle on the steps next to your converse, a warm body entirely too close to yours, like he thinks he still belongs there.

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence, and then he finally speaks. “Can I have one of those?”

You glance down at the pack he's pointing to, and you crumple it in your grasp again.

“No.” Your voice is a lot hoarser than you wish it was, further evidence of your crying, and you curse internally. He doesn’t get to know how much of your attention he still has, doesn’t deserve that satisfaction.

He has the nerve to chuckle at your response, hand withdrawing as he leans back on the step. Casual, comfortable, while you feel like you’re dying inside.

“Thought you didn’t like my brand,” he muses, head tilted as he looks up at the night sky. He waits then, expecting a response, frowning when all you do is take another long drag, smoke curling around your face. He opens his mouth again, but you beat him to it.

“Go back inside, Touya.” you mutter, pointedly avoiding looking at him. He sighs at that, long and heavy as he leans forward, running a hand through his hair.

“You said we were good. Said we could be friends.” he reminds you softly, echoing the exact words you’d said when he’d called you out of the blue six months ago, called to end things. 

“And you said you loved me, so I guess we’re both good liars.” You don’t mean for it to come out with so much venom, but it does, the alcohol and hurt burning in your veins making things that much harder.

He flinches at that, mouth snapping shut as his gaze hardens for a fraction of a second. But he doesn’t argue, doesn't object. He just sits there for a moment, letting the silence stretch.

“You seem cold.” he remarks softly, changing the subject easily, like he always did when things got hard. 

“Go. Inside.” It’s not an order this time, it’s a plea. For any sort of mercy, for the chance to save what little pride he hasn’t destroyed. For him to just leave you alone. He was good at that while you were together, it should be easy for him.

And something in your voice must strike a chord with him, because he stands with a sigh, footsteps leaving, the music louder again as he opens the door and disappears inside.

But not before that familiar leather jacket is draped over your shoulders, leaving you alone in the cold with the bitter taste of him on your tongue, and the warmth of his absence.

[queerian]

in response to the call for discussion on stone identities

prompted by last week's stream with @drdemonprince and @testdevice

this post is about sex and it's very personal! feel free to ignore if very personal essays about sex from your internet friends or strangers is not your idea of a good time

What does sex look like for you, and what brings you the most pleasure or gratification from it?

It starts with a sensory warmup. My partner touches me gently and slowly in a way that wakes my body up to pleasure. I do not get aroused without either being touched this way or thinking about some extremely specific niche freak kink shit. I tend to be nonverbal during sex, unless I need to break "scene" and communicate something specific purposefully, but sometimes it's hard for me to find my words again. Even without speaking I am very expressive. My partner can tell from my reactions when an escalation would be enjoyable. They use their hands and toys. They are very good with their hands, and we have a LOT of toys and other paraphernalia. I had never had an orgasm, at all, in my life, til we did things this way. It is an intense physical pleasure extended to far longer than I can manage by myself during solo activities, sometimes for hours. It allows me to stop my over-analytical thinking brain for a while and sink into sensation and feeling and being in my body, which most of the time I feel disconnected from (thanks alexithymia!) or troubled by. I do think of it as a somewhat meditative state. This kind of sex is also extremely collaborative and intimate. There is a huge amount of trust and being "in tune" with each other.

Is your stone identity related to sensory issues, neurodivergence, or trauma?

All three! I was never coerced into sex by individual partners, but "sex positive" culture (if you were with me you'd see the face I make while doing the scare quotes) has been coercive enough to traumatize me into believing that I am a bad person if I don't "give as good as I get" and that I'm a terrible person if I don't want to reciprocate stimulation in sex. I've been working on this one for years. It still has its claws in me.

Sensory issues make certain sex activities unpleasant or not enjoyable for me, and I appreciate now being able to choose to not do them. For example open mouth kissing. I like kissing skin in some body places, I like having some of my body parts kissed, but I do not like sharing saliva or breath. I've always been very picky about what goes in my mouth for sensory reasons, and that's not just a sex thing. On the other hand, other kinds of sensory stimulation in sex can be extremely pleasurable for me. I also tend to keep my eyes closed the entire time (I avoid eye contact at the best of times but in sex it's uhhhhhh even more Too Intense) and this lets me sink into other sensory experiences more intensely.

The neurodivergence bit I think is pretty clear from everything else I've said in this piece of writing.

How did you figure out you were stone?

I once turned to aceness as a way of trying to validate myself at the same time as problematizing my own lack of "appropriate" desire. "It is it wrong of me to not want to touch someone's genitals, whatever they may be, to not want to get them off, to not even let them get themselves off using my body, and it's wrong of me to not desire them carnally, to not be obsessed with and fulfilled by them romantically. Thus, I must be ace and aro, because that means it's okay to not want all that sometimes or all the time."

I've come to call myself a "stone bottom" in a deliberate effort of self-acceptance and self-validation. I was long aware of the idea of a stone top, a touch-me-not, someone who derives pleasure and gratification from getting her/their partners off but does not want to be fucked or gotten off. I don't recall seeing anyone else identify as a stone bottom, but as a mirror image of a stone top it makes perfect sense to me: someone who derives pleasure and gratification from being gotten off, from being touched or fucked, but does not want to get their partners off. I think I've only ever seen that called "selfish" unless it was in a power exchange scenario and part of dominance and submission.

Are you a gay man who identifies as stone, or a stone bottom, or some other identity that's less often talked about?

I'm non-binary/agender and generally perceived by society as a woman. I have a vagina. I've only ever had sex with people who have penises. I feel like it's pretty unusual for me to be a person with a vagina having sex with a person who has a penis and the penis is not involved at all in the sex. With previous partners, it's not just that it was expected that at some point they would be sticking it in me, it's that I never got to opt out of someone else using me, even gently, lovingly, and with attention to my pleasure. See aforementioned cultural trauma, lol. Reciprocation simply was not something I could abstain from without being a Grade A Asshole. Back then, I didn't even "actively want to not reciprocate". I wanted to be "good, giving, and game", like Dan Savage wrote you should be in his column that I read in my hunger to know more about sex and be having it a "correct, right" way. I wasn't yearning to be a stone bottom. I didn't know that was even an option. I didn't know it was possible to be a pillow princess and to have a partner that enjoyed this kind of sex, for it not to be a chore or imposition on them, and for this kind of sex to be a mutual sharing of intimacy.

Plenty of people buck the stereotypical straight cis sex scenario of "man (penis haver) does a little "foreplay" for the woman (vagina haver) to get her ready for the main event (penis in vagina), which they do til he ejaculates, and if she's lucky he'll eat her out or rub her clit and she might also get an orgasm." There's a thriving counter-culture where "reciprocal sexual gratification" is emphasized, all sorts of books and guides and tips and porn showing how important it is that "she comes first" or whatever, but most of it still centres around the point that "reciprocity is essential to not being an asshole". If he's an asshole for not appropriately tending to her pleasure, surely she would be, too, for ignoring his. And I really, really strongly internalized the belief that if I am not reciprocating, I am an unforgivable asshole. There's something, too, about the lack of "balance" that has long made me feel morally incorrect. (Points again at the neurodivergence.)

Is it a struggle to get partners to respect it?

I have not dated much, and I have not fucked much, mostly because I did not want to do either of those things enough to do less interesting or more tiresome things in order to achieve sex or dating. I also rarely experience what I'll call "sufficiently motivating attraction". I currently identify as nebulously "somewhere" on the asexual and aromantic spectra, and this is inseparable from the stone bottom/pillow princess situation. All of this is also wrapped up in my one ongoing relationship with my partner. I honestly don't know how differently things would be with another partner. I suspect I have facets that come out in different contexts, in response to different people and my feelings about them. What I do know with confidence is that my partner respects me, understands me quite well, and we communicate openly and frequently about things. I trust that if they have an issue with the current situation, they'll bring it up and we can talk about it and work on things. I trust that every time we have sex, they're initiating because they want to just as I can decline if and when I want to. I particularly appreciate the fact that I don't have to be an object of desire. That they can enjoy making me feel good, and it's not about "having" me. The very fact that someone just wants to make me feel good, over and over again, is pretty mind-blowing.

[small-z24]

One-Shot: A Dance with Danger

Summary:

Y/N and Azriel are forced to take shelter in a secluded cabin after a mission goes awry. As they fend off a surprise attack from Hybern soldiers, their long-hidden feelings come to the surface during a heated argument.

Word Count: 1713

Warnings: This story contains intense battle scenes, descriptions of injuries, emotional turmoil, and moments of vulnerability. Readers should be prepared for dramatic confrontations and raw emotional exchanges.

The mission had gone smoothly—too smoothly. As Y/N and Azriel made their way back to the Night Court, a sense of unease settled over them. The forest around them was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures conspicuously absent.

"We need to keep moving," Azriel said, his voice low and urgent. "I don't like this silence."

Y/N nodded, her hand tightening around the hilt of her sword. "Agreed. Let's hurry."

They picked up the pace, their footsteps muffled by the thick underbrush. Just as they reached a clearing, a group of Hybern soldiers emerged from the shadows, surrounding them with weapons drawn.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" sneered the leader, a tall fae with a cruel smile. "The Night Court's spymaster and his little friend."

Azriel's shadows flared protectively around him, his wings spreading wide. "Stay behind me, Y/N."

She stepped forward, her eyes blazing with determination. "Not a chance. We're in this together."

The Hybern soldiers attacked, and the clearing erupted into chaos. Y/N and Azriel fought back-to-back, their movements perfectly synchronized. Y/N's blade flashed in the moonlight as she parried and struck, each movement a testament to her skill and training. Azriel's shadows lashed out like living weapons, disarming and incapacitating their foes with deadly precision.

Despite their efforts, the enemy's numbers were overwhelming. Azriel was struck by a glancing blow to the side, blood seeping through his tunic. Y/N's heart lurched at the sight, but she couldn't afford to be distracted.

"Azriel, are you alright?" she shouted, slashing through another attacker.

"I'm fine," he gritted out, his eyes never leaving the enemies surrounding them. "Just focus on the fight."

They fought on, but the tide was turning against them. Y/N's movements were slowing, exhaustion creeping into her limbs. She knew they couldn't keep this up much longer.

Suddenly, a sharp pain exploded in her shoulder as an arrow found its mark. She stumbled, her vision blurring. Azriel's roar of rage and anguish cut through the chaos, and he surged forward, his shadows enveloping them both in a protective cocoon.

"We need to get out of here," he said, his voice tight with worry.

Y/N nodded weakly, her strength waning. "Lead the way."

With a powerful beat of his wings, Azriel lifted them both into the air, his shadows forming a barrier against further attacks. They flew through the trees, the wind whipping past them as they raced against time and danger.

When they finally landed near a secluded cabin, Azriel gently set Y/N down, his hands trembling. "Stay with me, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Don't you dare leave me."

She managed a weak smile. "I'm not going anywhere, Azriel. Just... need to rest."

Azriel carefully carried her into the cabin, laying her down on a makeshift bed. He worked quickly to tend to her wounds, his hands steady but his eyes filled with fear.

"You're going to be okay," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "You have to be."

Y/N reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek. "Thank you, Azriel. For everything."

He captured her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Rest now. I'll keep watch."

As Y/N drifted into a fitful sleep, Azriel stood guard, his shadows coiling around them like a protective shroud. He couldn't shake the fear gnawing at his heart, the thought of losing her more than he could bear.

Hours passed, and Y/N awoke to find Azriel still by her side, his eyes red-rimmed but vigilant. "Azriel," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "You should rest."

He shook his head, his expression fierce. "Not until I know you're safe."

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with love for the shadowy warrior who had risked everything for her. "I'm safe with you."

Azriel's gaze softened, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And I'll always keep you safe, Y/N. No matter what."

The moment was interrupted by a loud crash as the cabin door was kicked open. Hybern soldiers flooded in, their eyes gleaming with malice.

"Found you," their leader sneered. "Did you really think you could escape us?"

Azriel's shadows flared to life, and he stepped in front of Y/N, his wings spreading protectively. "Over my dead body."

The battle was fierce and relentless. Azriel fought with a ferocity born of desperation and love, his shadows striking with deadly precision. Y/N, despite her injuries, found the strength to rise and join the fight, her determination unwavering.

But the odds were against them. Just as it seemed they would be overwhelmed, a blast of magic erupted from the doorway, sending the Hybern soldiers sprawling. Rhysand and the Inner Circle had arrived, their faces grim with determination.

"Need a hand?" Rhysand called, his magic crackling around him.

"Glad you could make it," Azriel replied, relief flooding his voice.

With the added strength of their allies, the tide quickly turned. The remaining Hybern soldiers were dispatched, and the cabin fell silent once more.

Rhysand approached Azriel and Y/N, his gaze assessing. "You both look like hell."

"Feel like it too," Y/N muttered, her legs threatening to give out.

Feyre rushed to Y/N's side, her healing magic already at work. "Let's get you patched up."

Azriel watched with a mix of gratitude and worry as Y/N was tended to, his own wounds forgotten in his concern for her. Rhysand placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

"You did well, Az," he said quietly. "She's strong, and she'll be alright."

Azriel nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "I know. But I can't lose her."

"You won't," Rhysand promised. "Not if we have anything to say about it."

As the night wore on, the storm outside finally began to abate. Y/N, now fully healed thanks to Feyre's magic, sat beside Azriel, their hands entwined.

"You scared me," Azriel admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I saw you fall..."

"I'm sorry," she said, her eyes filled with love and regret. "I didn't mean to worry you."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just don't do it again."

Y/N laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "I'll do my best."

They sat in comfortable silence, the events of the night a stark reminder of the dangers they faced. But in each other's arms, they found solace and strength, knowing that together, they could face anything.

As dawn broke, casting a golden light over the cabin, Azriel pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N's lips. "We'll get through this, Y/N. We'll make it through every storm, every battle. Together."

"Together," she echoed, her heart swelling with love and determination.

And as the new day began, they knew that their bond, forged in the heat of battle and the depths of their love, would guide them through whatever challenges lay ahead. For in each other, they had found not just a partner, but a soulmate, a love that would endure through any storm.

Weeks passed, and their bond grew stronger. They continued to face missions and challenges together, their partnership growing seamless. One evening, as they prepared for another mission, an unexpected argument erupted.

"You need to be more careful out there, Y/N," Azriel said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can't keep putting yourself in danger like this."

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Azriel. I don't need you hovering over me all the time."

Azriel's jaw clenched. "I'm not hovering. I'm protecting you."

"Protecting me?" Y/N's voice rose. "It feels more like you're smothering me. I'm not some fragile flower that needs constant guarding."

"I'm trying to keep you safe!" Azriel shouted, his shadows flaring around him.

"And I don't need you to!" Y/N shouted back, her eyes blazing with anger.

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. They stood there, breathing heavily, staring at each other. And then, without warning, it happened.

A powerful, unmistakable bond snapped into place between them, a connection so strong it took their breath away. Y/N's eyes widened in shock, and she saw the same realization mirrored in Azriel's gaze.

"Azriel," she whispered, her voice trembling. "The bond..."

"I know," he replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I've known for a while."

Tears filled Y/N's eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Azriel stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. "I was afraid. Afraid of complicating things, of dragging you into my world of shadows and danger. I thought you deserved better."

"Better than my mate?" Y/N's voice broke, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Azriel, you're everything to me."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her sobs shaking her body. "I love you, Azriel. I love you so much."

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. "More than anything."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the bond between them solidified, a promise of love and devotion that would never be broken. They had faced so much together, and now, they would face the future as mates, united by a love that had defied all odds.

The next day, as they prepared for their mission, there was a newfound sense of peace and determination between them. They knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, their bond unbreakable.

As they flew over Velaris, Azriel's wings carrying them through the sky, Y/N felt a sense of exhilaration and hope. They were stronger together, and nothing could stand in their way.

"Ready for this?" Azriel asked, his eyes sparkling with love and confidence.

"With you by my side, always," Y/N replied, her heart swelling with joy.

And as they soared into the horizon, hand in hand, they knew that their love would guide them through any storm, any battle. For they were mates, destined to be together, their bond a beacon of light in the darkest of times.

[7-wonders]

Never Been Kissed

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: Morpheus cannot possibly wait another moment to let you know how he feels about you. What happens when it appears that you don't reciprocate?

Word count: 2.0k

Author's note: Shitty summary, sorry, but you know the scene in Barbie (2023) where Ken goes to kiss Barbie after the party and she just stands there?

This one? Yeah I got it into my head that it would be funny if eternal drama queen Morpheus was in Ken's position.

Clueless!reader, innocent!reader. This is just a kinda stupid, goofy little fic, idk. If you liked it, I'd appreciate hearing from you! If you didn't like it, sound off as well! My haters are my motivators.

P.S. You might be saying "the Endless aren't allowed to love mortals it leads to their ruin!" And I say that this is my fic so I decide the rules. Buckle up babes.

Death would say that he is head over heels.

Desire would say that it is boringly predictable and far too soon.

Lucienne would not say anything, but she would give him that look over the top of her glasses, the one that says that he had better know what he is doing.

Matthew would say that he is down bad, which is apparently what the youth of today are saying.

They are all right, though Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, wishes they were not. Despite his very best efforts, he has fallen in love once more. With a mortal, a human—you. 

Morpheus has never had much luck in love. Though there were a few occasions (very, very few) where it was not his fault, he is mature enough to understand that he has often been the cause of a relationship’s demise. He falls hard and fast, and he always has. That, combined with his…intensity, is what he believes to doom him each and every time. Perhaps he gives too much of himself to those who don’t deserve it; perhaps he shows his hand too quickly. 

But you, he knows, are different. You won’t hurt him, not in the way that others have. You won’t take him for granted.

Tonight, he has decided that he will finally confess to you his affections. He will bare his realm to you, the parts that no normal dreamer will ever get to see, and hope that you understand that this is akin to him baring his very soul. After all, he is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is him.

But where to take you? What to show you? Morpheus agonized over these questions for far longer than he would care to admit. Although he hoped to be able to accompany you to the farthest reaches of his realm (a tall task, considering said realm was infinite), to explore so much of the Dreaming with you that he rediscovered lands he had long forgotten about, this first foray needed to be perfect. He needed something special, something that conveyed to you the depth of his feelings.

He decided to start with something simple that most people would like to see: Athens, and specifically the Acropolis, as it was in its glory days. For all of the animosity Morpheus felt towards the Greek pantheon, he had to admit that they, and their worshippers, contributed much to society and humanity as a whole. Next was a glimmering lake that was actually the moon’s surface, followed by a glen in what could be the Scottish highlands populated by dragons—he found himself particularly pleased by your stunned awe upon seeing the mythical creatures.

The penultimate stop was one that Morpheus took great pride in thinking up, for he knew that it would be your favorite. A visit to a fae village, exiled by Titania and given sanctuary in the Dreaming (solely due to Morpheus’s dislike of their monarch), enjoying a Harvest celebration. They were harmless creatures in the Dreaming, devoid of any of the power that fae normally possessed, so Morpheus did not feel any hesitation in allowing you to explore the festivities. Above all else, the fae love a good party, so it was not surprising when a few invited you to join them in dancing, pulling you along with them until you were spinning and twirling as though you had always known the fae folk dance. You reached for him, mouthing “Come dance with me!” but he gently rebuffed you with a shake of his head and a smile, happy to simply watch the way you moved, with a grin on your face and boisterous laughter sounding just as lovely as the music playing.

What you had referred to as a “behind-the-scenes tour” ends in his private gardens, long a place of solace for him. Your excitement, your joy, fuels him. It’s palpable and intoxicating, and Morpheus wishes he could bottle it and keep it with him forever to give him just a hint of this feeling whenever he wants.

“This is…amazing. Your realm is amazing,” you gush, your eyes sparkling. “I feel like that word is such an understatement for what I’m trying to describe, but it’s the only one that comes to mind right now.”

“It pleases me to hear you think so.”

“Thank you for this. For trusting me,” you say sincerely.

Morpheus was right, you do understand the gift that this experience was meant to be. It makes the space in his chest cavity, where his heart would be if he allowed this form to have one, feel warm. It is only the the very least I could, no, would give you, he thinks. 

You’re smiling so sweetly at him, the moon shining down like a spotlight and making you look the closest to holy that Morpheus will ever get. This is it, he realizes. This is the moment where he will tell you of his love for you, and where you will then reciprocate. This is the moment that he will commit to memory for the rest of eternity until his sister locks up the universe behind her. This is the moment that you become his, and he yours. 

There is so much that Morpheus wants to say to you, yet he knows not where to begin. An unfamiliar feeling swells within him—nervousness. What if he says the wrong thing, what if he scares you off with his intensity before he can truly say what he wants to say? No, best to show you how he feels before telling you, that way there is no doubt. With that, Morpheus leans in towards you and closes his eyes, waiting to feel his lips on yours.

That feeling does not come, and Morpheus belatedly realizes after a few moments that it will not come. When he opens his eyes and looks at you once more, you’re still standing in the same position that you were, still smiling, albeit looking a bit more confused

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

All of Morpheus’s plans, his hopes and…dreams, for lack of a better term, come crashing down around him. So you’ve rejected him, then. He has laid his heart bare for you, shown you parts of his realm that no other mortal has been lucky enough to see, and you’ve turned him down. This, he muses, is his fatal flaw. Mentally, he had already declared you his, crowned you his consort, and created an entire life with you.

But the Lord of Dreams should know better than anyone that it does no good to dwell on dreams, for they are nothing but fantasy and can lead only to heartbreak.

“It appears that I was wrong in thinking that my feelings were reciprocated,” he says lowly, looking out at a carefully cultivated rose bush that is rapidly wilting. An icy wind begins to whip up, stripping the bush of its dead petals and sending them swirling off into the night.

Shock, raw and unfiltered, crosses your face. “Oh! You wanted…to kiss me?”

Morpheus pauses at this odd question, for he did not think you to be so obtuse. Did he not make it obvious that that was what he was intending? Are you attempting to shame him further? “Yes? I apologize, since you have made clear that you do not harbor the same affection for me as I do for you.” He has to grit his teeth to keep from spewing anything more vicious, though lightning cracks across the sky and says what he cannot.

“No! I mean yes. I mean–” You take a breath and shake your head as though you’re trying to physically clear your thoughts. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never…been kissed. Before.”

The bad weather, which had been threatening since the moment he realized that he was wrong and tried desperately to hide the devastation that was threatening to overtake him, dies down so suddenly that it could have been turned off by some unseen entity hitting a switch.

“What.” It is certainly not proper of Morpheus to sound so shocked, especially when it’s regarding a topic that you are so clearly embarrassed about. But he simply cannot believe that someone like you, someone so delightful and open, so empathetic and, well, attractive, has never experienced intimacy from another before.

“I know, it’s super lame. People just…haven’t ever liked me in that way?” You shrug and add, “Just haven’t found the right person yet,” in a way that sounds so self-deprecating that it must be a line you’ve heard many times before.

“So you have never…”

You shake your head and look away in embarrassment. “No hand holding, no kissing, no dating. Nothing. Sorry to disappoint.”

It goes unsaid what else you haven’t done if those simple, basic acts of romance have been devoid from your life. From the way you brace yourself, you’re obviously expecting him to react negatively to the news, and he assumes that this is from experience. Instead, Morpheus finds that he does not mind in the slightest. No, this piece of information is…rather titillating, actually.

(Perhaps it’s the fact that this means you’re largely untouched by anyone, but specifically mortals, whom Morpheus has seen the worst of for over a hundred years. The filth of humanity has yet to mar you in such an intimate manner. Prior to today, Morpheus didn’t think that he had an innocence kink. Now? He’s starting to see why the gods and goddesses of old so favored virgins.)

He files this revelation away to be revisited later, when he can hope to be in complete control of his emotions and not have them divided by having the object of his affection standing right in front of him.

“I do not find myself disappointed,” he says.

Your eyes meet his once more, and he can see the hope you hold. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “It is not your fault that others have failed to properly see the magnificence standing before them.”

‘Magnificent’ does not even come close to doing any justice in describing you, Morpheus feels, but it will do for now.

“Morpheus,” you admonish half-heartedly and bashfully. You are obviously not used to receiving such compliments, which is precisely why Morpheus is now determined to make sure that you shall never go a day without hearing one. 

“Would you be interested in such things with me?” Things, of course, being the list of activities you have never partaken in.

Slowly, a smile spreads on your face. “Really? You like me like that?”

Your naïvete is truly endearing. “I do. Am I correct in hoping that you feel the same?”

“Yeah. You’d be correct.”

“Then might I bestow upon you your first kiss?”

Somehow, your smile widens, and you nod. “I’d like that.”

Morpheus again leans towards you, but this time, his actions are reciprocated. Your lips against his are soft and a little clumsy against his, which is to be expected from someone who has absolutely no experience. The entire time, he can feel the way that you’re trying, and failing, to keep yourself from smiling.

It is by no means the best kiss that Morpheus has ever had. Yet, it will likely remain one of his most fond memories of such an action.

When you pull away, you’re giggling almost giddily. “That was really good,” you praise, as though discussing a book or a meal. It’s simultaneously not at all and exactly what Morpheus was expecting from you, and he can practically feel himself falling further for you.

Tonight will not be the night that he espouses his love for you. He will not whisper promises of the universe against your skin, and he will not whisk you away to his chambers so that he may properly ravish you. Instead, this relationship will be…slow. Although that is not something that Morpheus is used to, something that he’s familiar with, he finds that he is alright with the concept of taking things slow, so long as it is with you.

[callmearcturus]

a bunch of Mission Impossible fic recs

hi, i'm sorry for conning so many people into this fandom. here's some reading material.

Easy Open, by helenish

“So you and Hunt are a package deal these days,” Bryson says. “Uh,” Benji says, jerking his head up from his computer, ballpoint in his mouth.

Ethan/Benji. Definitely the first thing you should read after watching the movies. This is my favorite kind of one-shot, the kind that manages to convey the weight of history like a 60k fic in such a compressed space. When I talk about using sex scenes to convey something about the characters, perfect example is the set dressing around the one here where the title drop happens. Way to say so fucking much about the characters through sheer implication.

in the details, by helenish

Ethan: We have an even bigger problem. Ilsa. Benji: Ilsa. Our Ilsa? —Mission: Impossible — Fallout (Paramount Pictures, 2018)

Ethan/Benji/Ilsa. This one is so fucking dense and amazing. I love the way Ethan is just so fucking in love with both of these people and keeps imagining them fucking and feels terrible about it, you just want Benji and Ilsa to put Ethan out of his misery, but ALSO this is hardcore physicality porn. The scene with Ilsa on Benji's shoulders is better than any sex scene I've read this year.

I'm With You, by fictionallemons

Luther's getting married again at a private resort on a tropical island. Only there's a mixup with the rooms and Benji and Ethan have to share. No big deal, right? One bed. Two friends. No problem. Ha.

Ethan/Benji. I keep rereading this one because it just has such intense longing and familiarity in it. The way it portrays Ethan and Benji as a unit, a foregone conclusion even they themselves haven't quite figured that out, is perfect. Also I love the way Ethan handles the bed situation, the low grade annoyance he has at the repeated question. Benji, get a clue, my man.

Someone New, by fictionallemons

After Fallout, Benji thinks Ethan and Ilsa are together and he only wants to be happy for them, even it kills him to see Ethan with someone else. He's got to try to get over Ethan. But some things are just impossible. Mutual jealousy, mutual pining, cute texting, and a happy ending, of course.

Ethan/Benji. LOOK, THE WAY TO MY HEART IS ETHAN BEING JEALOUS AND NOT HANDLING IT WELL. Also the fact this fic acknowledges Ethan's emotional growth from Fallout, chef's kiss. But really the moment when Ilsa's like "Seems we missed the show" and Ethan says "I wish we had" ETHAN OH MY GOD. Also the subtle way Benji is needling Ethan a little, subconsciously at least-- it's good!

it takes a lot (to know a man), by thistableforone

"So I just… want to remind myself that we're alright." He says it like that, with a general we that sounds more like a specific you. And because Ethan does know what it feels like, he doesn't question him any further. If Benji needs to spend time with him to feel better, he won't deny him. Takes place after Fallout. Ethan is recovering and Benji goes to live with him to help

Ethan/Benji. A longer one, hell yeah. This one truly wallows in the aftermath of Fallout, which is where my brain lives 90% of the time, so I appreciate it. Also Ilsa pointing out why the fuck did Luther give her that speech but not Benji-- finally someone said it. But really this fic is about Benji and it breaks my heart.

magnetic field being a little too strong, by oopshidaisy

“This is strictly recon,” Ethan says. It’s maybe the seventeenth time he’s said words to this effect since they arrived at the party. “We can’t do anything that’ll raise suspicion. Understand?” Post-Rogue Nation. Benji and Ethan go undercover and find themselves in one of those spy jams that only surprise kissing can solve.

Ethan/Benji. This is the one with the INCREDIBLE passage about Benji realizing why Ethan's never been slapped for pulling the fake kissing thing on missions. Also I love how... this feels like a date. To Ethan, this is a fun mission with his Benji, and it feels like it. Benji's voice here is pitch perfect, feels like its right out of Rogue Nation.

The Missionary Position, by matchsticks

Ethan and Benji have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Well, Ethan and Benji are already a married couple, but now they have to pretend to be pretending to be a married couple for a mission, and the rest of the team has to help them keep their secret. It'll definitely all work out fine. Probably. Hopefully.

Ethan/Benji. Listen. This one is hilarious.

THERE, there's some stuff to get you started, folks! and you can always hit up mine. I have periphery (in which everyone Benji works with is a little in love with him and Ethan just doesn't deal well), all i need is a certain trigger (in which Ilsa and Benji are in the Syndicate and Ethan trips into romancing them both), and the big AU you'll need a new name to survive this (in which Benji is Ethan's physical therapist and a lot of things start to change)

Looking over all this, it seems my favorite thing is when Ethan is just unhinged and Benji is unfortunately into that.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

The Greatest Kisses of All Time

So @neuroticbookworm just finished watching Old Fashion Cupcake and @waitmyturtles is never not watching Bad Buddy, and this naturally sparked a conversation around two of the best kisses of all time. The kiss between Togawa and Nozue in Episode 4 of OFC and the kiss between Pat and Pran in Episode 5 of BBS. 

For as much as there are similarities in these four characters, namely that Pat and Nozue both exist for years without any understanding of Pran and Togawa’s feelings, and that Pat and Nozue both exist for years without realizing their own queerness. I don’t know how many people who may be reading this were around for the BL-Bracket Best Kiss competition, but myself and quite a few others on here were fighting tooth and nail for the final fighting ring to be Bad Buddy vs. Old Fashion Cupcake because these are just…such emotionally complex, beautifully shot, and masterfully performed feats of acting and filmmaking. But their kisses could not feel more different. So I wanted to take a moment to break these scenes down. 

Bad Buddy, Episode 5

There is already so much want and hope and pain in Pran’s eyes when he turns around to face Pat. When Pran says “we aren’t even friends” Pat’s response is this extremely small, ironic smile and an exhaling of breath. When he responds to Pran’s statement, his is listing off all of these barriers to the two of them being together, the tow of them being friends with each other. But the way his voice sounds, the way the music supports makes the words and the emotions so dichotomous. Pat is listing all these reasons that they should not be together, but Ohm delivers these lines like Pat is telling Pran all the reasons they should be. And part of that has to do with the subtle ways in which he undermines the impossibilities of their friendship with the realities of it. “How can we be friends if we live next door to each other but can’t even talk?” but they do talk. They have spent their whole lives talking.

And I think you can kind of tell the way this kiss is going to go at the end (with Pran walking away) with how much sadder Pran progressively gets as Pat continues to talk “[when you were away] I was so damn happy” and Pran looks crestfallen. And again we get a dichotomy here with Pat listing off all these positives of Pran being gone from his life, but the tone that is being set by the irony in Pat’s face and the sadness in Pran’s is building on this idea. Pat is listing all these reasons why being apart from Pran was good for him, but Ohm delivers these lines like Pat is telling him all the reasons why being apart is not an option. The way that realization and hope comes in to Pran’s eyes, in to his face when Pat says “It was so depressingly lonely for me”. Like, that line is fucking tragic, this moment is fucking tragic. Pat admitting how lonely he was is sad, and yet it is the thing that gives Pran hope that finally finally his feelings may be reciprocated. 

This is the constant trend. Why should the lines “Do you want to be my friend?” “No.” be so heartwarming and hopeful, so honest and pure, and raw when at face value saying you don’t want to be someone’s friend would not be regarded as a positive thing. The moment of happiness when Pat pulls away from their first soft kiss knowing something is right, the way Pran’s jaw sets in determination when he grabs Pat and pulls him in for more. Their kiss builds and builds and builds in its intensity the longer it goes on, the more time neither of them pulls away, how hungry they both are for it the more it feels right, the more things settle in to place. The look of pure and utterly joyous relief on Pat’s face when they finally part, everything having clicked in to place for him. Finally understanding himself after all of these years, only to have Pran, who has known for so long what he wants, how he feels about Pat, sobbing and walking away because he cannot allow himself to believe this is real.

I think I said this in one of my Our Skyy 2 posts about PatPran that Pat is someone that is unable to ponder. It may take him his entire life up to this point to realize that he has feelings for Pran, but the second that he does, he does not linger on the thought, he does not mull it over, he does not find shame in it. He is upset at Pran because Pran sang their song, because that song is important, because Pran is important, because he wants to be with Pran, and then he immediately goes to tell Pran all of this, to admit his feelings, to kiss him, to want to be together. While Pran has been sitting on this love, this knowledge for years, pining and in pain at all the ways Pat has kept him close while being completely oblivious to both Pran’s feelings for him, and his feelings for Pran. And, I don’t know, maybe it is just that hindsight is 20/20, or that Bad Buddy is so deeply ingrained in me at this point that I may be overestimating my powers of prediction here. But Pran walking away from that kiss was not a surprise. Pat’s reaction to that kiss was not a surprise. You can see every part of where this kiss is going, you can see the pain in Pran’s eyes, you can see the desperation in Pat’s. You know what is going to happen the second they break apart. 

But Nozue and Togawa? I am not certain that I can say the same 

Old Fashion Cupcake, Episode 4

Honestly throughout most of Old Fashion Cupcake, we do not get anywhere near the level of sexual tension we get between Pat and Pran, though the few moments there are are fucking powerful. Leading up to the Episode 4 kiss, Togawa has convinced Nozue to try to plank, and boy oh boy is it a good excuse to get this hot man on his bed. I do appreciate the fact that there does not appear to be any sexual tension to begin with. Togawa getting on Nozue’s back may look sexually suggestive, but it does not (initially) feel sexually suggestive. And that is in part due to the fact that Nozue is currently distracted, he isn’t tuned in to the sexual tension. And it is a testament to Takeda’s acting prowess that in a split second Nozue is able to go from laughing at being tickled to laying the tension on thick. We move in to the conversation about the positive impact they have had on each other’s lives. A complete opposite of Pat and Pran. This is an admission on Togawa’s part about his feelings for Nozue, even if he does not say that directly.

It is why he starts the conversation with his back to Nozue, it’s why it takes him so long to make eye contact. And Togawa walks away, while Nozue smiles fondly to himself, reflecting on the importance of Togawa to his own life, and I honestly do not think it is until the second that Togawa comes rushing back towards him, saying his name low and with such intensity that it really starts to click for Nozue what is about to happen, what is happening. Over the past few episodes, Nozue has been turning over these thoughts and questions about why he feels so irritable and out of sync when he thinks Togawa has ignored his email. But I do not think it is until Ochi-san calls Togawa and snaps him out of this moment, that the embarrassment kicks in. We enter the continuous shot, Nozue says he has to leave, and he will not make eye contact with Togawa.

And it must be said, that while  do not in any way shape or form doubt that Ohm and Nanon could have absolutely demolished a continuous shot for their Ep 5 kiss, I think we rely too heavily on their microexpressions for it to have worked. But here, it is such a brilliant choice, because everything that ends up unfolding is spontaneous, unexpected in some regard. The episode 4 kiss being a continuous shot serves to express and highlight the motion of the scene, the energy of the scene, which is what we need for the eruption that will occur, where we rely more on seeing the difference in the words and the emotions that are coming out of Pat in Ep 5 of BBS. I think that Nozue’s feelings, his realization, his anxiety comes on suddenly, so suddenly that the camera does not have time to cut away. Nozue is panicking, and he is trying to stay emotionally detached in a way that Pat and Pran are not, in a way that Pat and Pran are incapable of. Because Pat has been oblivious and Pran has been repressed, while Togawa has been repressed and Nozue has been oblivious, and Nozue, unlike Pat, is a character that is prone to decision paralysis. His habit of maintaining the status quo because making different choices means something bad might happen, means that he is much more likely to keep things the way they were. To ignore his feelings, or to run from them, unlike Pat who is physically incapable of holding those feelings in his body. 

There is desperation between Togawa and Nozue, just as there is desperation between Pat and Pran, but the desperation for Pat and Pran comes from Pat needing Pran to understand his feelings, while the desperation for Togawa stems from trying to stop Nozue from running from his feelings, while Nozue’s desperation is to flee. I love love love that Nozue’s approach here. Where Pat was listing off all these impossibilities for their relationship, that were tragic yet true, and delivered with hope, Nozue is trying to shut down. He is being as polite as he can muster, but he is absolutely not concerned with seeming like he is lying. Again, where Pat is rambling off a list of things that were true but had not been said aloud in years, Nozue is rambling off a list of things that were not true and are only said because Nozue’s brain is disconnected from his body. The first thoughts that pop in to his head are the first things that come out of his mouth, any and every poor and pathetic excuse, and Togawa’s desperate attempts to counter every argument, to try to keep Nozue here. There is a tension underlying the scene that we get through the background music, that is far more discordant than the romantic, hopeful swells we got in Bad Buddy. 

Togawa grabs Nozue, and kisses him, and the music cuts out so that it is just silence. Nozue’s mind goes blank, and where we get the intensity of Pat and Pran’s kiss escalating from both sides as their kiss goes on, what we get from Nozue is a physical reaction that his brain has not caught up with. Because at every turn, Nozue kisses Togawa back. But his eyes are wandering, he’s very much uncertain about what is happening. Not in a “do I like this? How does this feel?” kind of way, in my opinion, but in a “how did I get here? What is happening?” kind of way. And then he drops, and Togawa follows, and we get the “I’m seducing you” confession. And for a while Nozue is just frozen there on the ground, but the longer Togawa speaks, the more Nozue’s brain and body finally connect, and the more he seems to relax. He tries to engage Togawa in conversation, they have switched roles as Nozue tries to stop Togawa’s ramble. 

And Togawa won’t let him. Pran walks away because he cannot allow himself to hope that Pat is actually serious about liking him, Togawa puts his hand to Nozue’s lips to make sure that he Nozue cannot reject him. Togawa’s internalized homophobia will not allow him to dream of a world where Nozue returns his feelings. So he hurts himself by rejecting Nozue before Nozue can reject him. Togawa asks to be hit, just sits there bowing and waiting to be beaten for being queer, for liking his boss, and you can see the way it hurt Nozue to see that Togawa assumes that Nozue would resort to violence like that. Nozue gets this look of disgust on his face, this look of pain when Togawa tells him he can hit him. 

And where I knew where the PatPran kiss was heading, while it was no surprise that Pran walked away at the end of that, I cannot say I know what Nozue would have done if Togawa hadn’t jumped the gun. I don’t think Nozue knows what he would have done if Togawa had let the moment linger. If Togawa had let Nozue speak. 

Anyway all of this to say that I love both of these scenes so much, and it is a testament to the acting prowess of all performers involved that so much can be conveyed. That Ohm and Nanon had to film all the rooftop scenes for the entire show in one evening, had to change the nature of Pat and Pran’s relationship as the Qs progressed. That Takeda and Kimura could carry four minutes of an intensely emotional scene where the power and the comfortability must flow between Togawa and Nozue, where Takeda has to stay physically in the scene while ensuring that his character looks and acts like he is in two different places. Pat’s hope, Pran’s despair, Nozue’s understand, and Togawa’s fear are all so visceral, it is no wonder these scenes have made and maintain such an impact.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

About you last post, I think a reason why the show took such a weird and concerning direction of Adrien having this therapy role, I don‘t really believe that the writers take Marinette‘s PTSD serious (at least outside of derision). The whole show her „weirdness“ was played off as comedy (TA said so himself in a tweet a while back) and the phone call scene you were describing also had vibes of making Mari look quirky like „haha look she still can‘t be normal about her bf“.

The worst part is that I feel like the writers could actually write good mental health representation but only when the plot demands it. Adrien being visibly depressed in s4? Makes for good drama. Adrien forgetting all his problems after he gets with Mari? Well duh love solves everything. Marinette having a panic attack? Makes the scene where she looses the miraculous more intense. Almost every other instant of her panicking? Hehe funny.

The whole show her "weirdness“ was played off as comedy (TA said so himself in a tweet a while back)

Oh, her weirdness was absolutely supposed to be read as comedic pre-Derision. I never consider those jokes funny, but they were very clearly jokes. In fact, it always weirded me out when people took her actions seriously because those people never applied that logic to the other absurdist humor used in the show.

My go-to example is Party Crasher. If you're up in arms about Marinette being a "stalker", but aren't equally or even more concerned by a bunch of adult men just randomly showing up to hang out with a group of 14-year-olds, then maybe you're holding the teenage girl to an unreasonable standard and ignoring the fact that she's written by a bunch of adult men who clearly think that teenage girls act like fangirls around their real-life crushes.

Marinette is not a real person. She's a character in an absurdist romantic comedy aimed at kids. Her actions have to be judged in that light if you want to make any sort of good-faith analysis.

The problem is Derision and the choice to make all of Marinette's Adrien-based-behavior a PTSD response. Once you go that route, the absurdist humor excuse is dead in the water.

Absurdist humor is all about making things so ridiculous that you can't take them seriously. For example, Marinette having Adrien's schedule for the next week isn't absurd because that schedule exists. She could absolutely get her hands on it! Her having his schedule for the next 3 years? That's absurd. You can't take it seriously because it's impossible for her to have a schedule that goes that far into the future. It would have, at most, a handful of events because you just don't schedule most things that far in advance.

But if you have Marinette do a big, dramatic confession where she shows Adrien the schedule and apologizes for it? Then none of that matters. the absurdist nature of it goes away because you have treated it seriously and absurdist humor is all about not treating the absurd too seriously. Derision was the equivalent of that big dramatic confession. You can no longer use absurdist humor to justify anything Marinette does and, notably, they don't. She's massively toned down post Derision and things are being taken more seriously with her and Adrien actively working on her behavior, which is a problem because this is also true:

I don‘t really believe that the writers take Marinette‘s PTSD serious

They've given her a serious issue, they're taking it seriously enough to have Adrien and Marinette address it, but they're not being serious about how you'd treat PTSD and that is the worst possible way to approach this issue. I'd be happier if they just flat out ignored it or used magic love to heal it with a kiss and never addressed it again.

When writing comedy aimed at kids, there's a thing that I like to call The Seat Belt Principle. If you've ever seen a show where a kid character was about to launch themself off in a rocket, only to fasten their seat belt first, then you've seen this principle in action. It's the idea that, in a kids show, you can have wild things happen so long as it's something that a kid can't emulate. If a kid can emulate it, then you have to take it more seriously. This is why kid characters always fasten their seat belts even if it's pointless because the child audience needs to see seat belts as cool and a thing that you always use.

The Seat Belt Principle applies to more than physically dangerous situations. If you are portraying any serious, real-life issue in a kids show, then you need to handle it differently than something that a kid will never face. To put it another way, Ladybug can have ignorant parents, Marinette cannot. Sabine and Tom not knowing that their daughter is a superhero? Not a problem, superheroes aren't real. Sabine and Tom not knowing that their daughter is experiencing horrific bullying or even straight up ignoring it? Big problem, bullies are very real.

This is where we get to the mental health stuff. A lot of media treats mental health issues as something that can be solved via romance and nothing could be further from the truth. Romantic partners can make the fight easier, but they shouldn't be your whole army if you can help it. The show doesn't seem to get this.

As you pointed out, the show keeps giving the characters metal health issues for drama and then hand waving those issues away via romantic relationships and that's a big yikes for me. You don't have to introduce mental health issues into your romantic comedy, but once you do, you have a responsibility to portray them accurately. They clearly don't want to do that and that's why season five's love square romance is a hard pass for me. There's a world of difference between bad jokes and bad mental health rep. I can overlook one, the other is a personal pet peeve and I've seen the negative consequences in action first hand. I think we all have! Who isn't familiar with the concept of a person being confused that "X is still depressed? But they got that new job/have a new SO/got engaged/etc."

[mickimagnum]

Devin's Dude Ranch: Episode Eight

*the episode opens with a shot of Devin staring out of her bedroom window*

Devin (voice-over): "The Cocktail Hour is over and now it's time for me to make my decision. Which one of these guys do I send home? I can see reasons to give each of them a second chance. Honestly, this feels too early to send anyone home. Ugh, this sucks!"

*the next scene opens with the Rose Ceremony. all contestants are lined up on the platform in front of Devin and the show's host, Venessa*

Venessa: "Welcome, everyone, to the first Rose Ceremony."

Venessa (continues): "Tonight, Devin will choose who she wishes to continue seeing by handing out roses to those lucky four. Contestants, you can choose to either accept or decline her rose if you no longer wish to pursue a relationship with her. Anyone without a rose at the end of the ceremony must immediately pack his belongs and leave the ranch. This week there was also a poll where our viewers voted on who they thought should go home. Devin has received those results and had the option of considering the results when making her decision.

Alright, good luck, gentleman. Devin, it's all yours."

Devin: "I want to begin by telling you all how thankful I am that all of you took this chance to be here with me. I know this experience has not been easy, even though we're still at the beginning, but I want you to know how much I deeply appreciate the time we've gotten to spend together. You're all amazing men and the decision I had to make tonight was very difficult. But, ultimately, I do believe it is the best decision."

*Devin picks up the first rose*

Devin (continues): "This first rose is going to the person I have had a very...intense connection with from the start, and every time we're together, I feel our connection getting stronger. I definitely want to see where this goes, Houston."

*Houston hustles off the platform and over to Devin with a huge smile on his face*

Devin: "Houston, will you accept this rose?"

Houston: "Yes, a million times, yes."

*Devin laughs softly as she hands him his rose*

*the pair hug before Houston returns to his place on the platform*

Devin: "My next rose goes to a man that is so easy to be around that our connection feels effortless. We have a lot in common, he has a great sense of humor, and I just really enjoy our time together. I definitely need more time with you, Handra."

*Handra steps off the platform and strides over to Devin*

Devin: "Handra, do you accept this rose?"

*Handra smiles at her*

Handra: "Absolutely."

*after taking his rose, Handra then kisses Devin on the cheek before making his way back to his spot*

Devin: "My third rose goes to someone that I definitely feel a connection with, but we need to spend more time together to figure out if there's serious potential between us. I want more, and I think you feel the same way, Albert."

*Albert moves off the platform and swaggers over to Devin*

Devin: "Do you accept this rose and the challenge to spend more time together?"

Albert: "Yes. I'm all in, beautiful."

*the two hug before Albert goes back to his spot*

Devin: "And here we are, down to the final rose. This was not an easy decision, because I really like both of the men standing here, waiting for the chance to continue."

Devin (continues): "Milo, you are such a sweet person with big dreams, and I love that about you. But, we're not at the same place in our lives and, frankly, I think you may be little young for me."

Devin (continues): "And Stan, we always have a blast when we're together. Our connection is easy, but I've been worried that maybe it's more of a friendship connection than anything else."

Devin (continues): "Ultimately, I had to go with my gut. And the man I want to continue seeing is...Stan."

*Stan hustles off the platform and over to Devin*

Devin: "Stan, do you accept this rose and promise to work on the romantic side of our connection?"

Stan: "I do, and I've never been more ready for an adventure in my life."

*Devin and Stan hug before he returns to his place*

*Milo then steps forward to join Devin*

Devin: "Milo, I'm so sorry. You really are a great guy. We just weren't right for each other. I really do wish you the best and I look forward to your many platinum albums one day soon."

*Milo sighs*

Milo: "Thank you for the opportunity, Devin. I don't feel like I got enough of a chance, but it is what it is. Someone has to be the first to go, right? Best of luck."

*Milo then turns and walks away*

Milo, in diary room: "After the Cocktail Hour I had a feeling it was going to be me. And yeah, it sucks. But, I meant what I said. I don't feel like I got a real chance," *looks at the floor* "It just sucks man. I really liked her."

Stan, in diary room: "Whew! That was a close one! All I can say is, I'm very grateful to be standing after tonight.

My plan moving forward? Romance the heck outta Devin. She won't know what hit her." *winks at the camera*

Devin, in diary room: "It was a very difficult decision, but I do feel like it was the right one. Ultimately, the viewers were right and voted exactly how I chose. I'm just glad it's over. I'm excited to move on with my four guys!"

Houston submitted by @invisiblequeen Handra submitted by @bloomingkyras Albert submitted by @bakersimmer James "Stan" submitted by @natolesims

Thank you to @belsasim for submitting Milo. I'm so sorry things between him and Devin didn't work out. But, I think we can all agree he's a great guy. From everyone at Devin's Dude Ranch, good luck, and we wish you the best on your future endeavors!

*Relationship status shown is after the end of Cocktail Hour **Relationships are built autonomously after a few guided friendly and flirty interactions to get them started ***Rose order for this elimination determined by viewer poll results

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[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Twenty

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4593

You and Joel settle into your relationship, but Ellie's suspicions are high.

I've taken some liberties here with the order of Ellie’s journal.

Come Home

Chapter Twenty - Scene

The days that follow are more full of colour than you ever remember there being in the world. Bright, golden sunlight, skies of the deepest azure, verdant green grasses, delicate white and opulent pink of the cherry blossoms and magnolia trees that erupt in gardens and send their petals cascading through the town like confetti.

Both you and Joel attend to your normal tasks in Jackson – you with your rehabilitation appointments and helping in any way that you can while you’re still hobbled by your shoulder, and he with scouting, building, farming, any number of chores that he is asked to do. While you always enjoyed going beyond the walls of Jackson with him, you now find it a fraught affair when he goes out without you. There is a ball of agonised anxiety that takes root in the pit of your stomach and that doesn’t leave until he inevitably returns, always with reassurances that he’s okay and that there is nothing to worry about. You enjoy watching him at his carpentry far more and he has caught you actively ogling him on more than one occasion. Well, how can you help it when he looks like that? When his biceps curl and strain against his short sleeves as he saws and hammers? When his t shirt darkens at his neck and the small of his back and clings to him as he works? When he stretches up to measure the timber and you get a peek of that beautiful line of hair that stretches downward from his navel?

“We ain’t gonna have to tell folks if you keep on lookin’ at me like that,” he chuckles quietly one evening as you busy yourself in your kitchen making food for the three of you.

“Can’t help it. You look too good,” you say simply as you add salt and pepper to the pot.

“I didn’t say I had a problem with it,” he asserts smoothly as he plants dainty kisses across the nape of your neck, making you shiver and goosepimple before stepping back a respectable distance in case Ellie came charging in without knocking.

She’s doing that a lot these days, and you can’t help but feel like she’s trying to catch you in the act. You’re aware that Joel hasn’t told her what has changed between the two of you, but you can see the suspicion in her eyes when they flit between you when you talk and laugh, and she no longer makes excuses to leave you alone together after your game nights or dinner. So, you and Joel snatch time together whenever you can and the desperation of the stolen kisses between you only serve to ramp up the intensity of your feelings. In the stables, behind the barn, in the clinic after your physiotherapy when he comes to walk you back to your house, and once in the toilets of the Tipsy Bison when you were both…well…tipsy. It’s never gone further than kissing, but the crush of his mouth against yours and the taste of him on your tongue is something you know you could never get tired of.

You understand why he hasn’t said anything to her. This is so new, such untrodden territory and right now you couldn’t even put a name to it to begin talking with Ellie about what was going on. Besides, you felt it was up to him to decide when was right. While you and her were close, she was still his family and you had to believe that he knew what was best for her and for them.

The sling comes off just over two weeks after it went on and you’re overjoyed that you can now not only begin to do things with two hands, but that you can hold Joel close to you properly, something which you do mere minutes after you’ve got rid of the thing and Doctor Graham leaves the room.

“Eager,” he teases gently as he gathers you to him and strokes his hands softly down your back.

“Damn right,” you agree, testing your newfound freedom by hugging him as tightly to you as your shoulder will allow.

Day to day life comes easier after that, though Maria is still reluctant to give you anything too strenuous to work on. Still, you manage to do simple farming chores – watering the plants in the greenhouses, feeding the chickens and collecting their eggs, picking the produce that was ready – and you throw yourself into your tasks, savouring the new freedom of your body and how it is getting stronger.

Ellie, however, is still desperate to rid herself of farming duties. She asks Maria if she can work with Joel for a while instead, and when she agrees he begins teaching her the basics of carpentry. She’s good at it and you love the way you see Joel swell with pride when he can see the physical results of the knowledge he’s imparting. Truth be told, you’re glad she has something to distract her. She definitely knows something is going on, but because no one has been forthcoming with information she has drawn back and become a little more distant than usual. It’s worrying to you, that perhaps she wouldn’t approve of what you and Joel were doing. And that if she really couldn’t stand the idea, you would have to give him up for the sake of their relationship. There would be no other choice, either for you or him, you knew that. But the thought of it caused your heart to clench painfully, imagining seeing him every day but being unable to be as close to him as you wanted to be.

One afternoon after you’ve been to visit Mrs. Drew, who is now becoming less grumpy and more inclined to give you little knick-knacks and presents every time you visit her with groceries and other supplies, you stop by where they are working alongside Tommy. They seem to be building a new chicken coop and the air is thick with the sound of sawing and ringing hammers. You hang back at first, not wanting to disturb them while they’re busy, but as soon as Joel spots you he grins and immediately downs his tools.

“You good?” he asks.

“All fine,” you affirm. “Just wanted to say I’ve got some stew going back home if you’re hungry. Come over if you feel up to it. Or I can bring it to you guys if you’re tired.”

“Well…I am kinda beat today,” says Joel, his smile sliding into something a little more weary. “If you wouldn’t mind…”

“Not at all,” you say softly, and you have to tear your eyes from his face before it becomes too obvious that looking away from him is the last thing you want to do right now. You turn to Ellie with a questioning look instead to see how she feels about having dinner delivered to her, but her eyes are narrowed and not missing a trick. She’s giving you both appraising looks, from one to the other, as if trying to work you out.

“Ellie?” you prompt, trying to sound casual. “You want me to bring your food to your place? Or eat at Joel’s?”

“Whichever,” she says shiftily, and you sigh internally at her abruptness.

“Tommy? You and Maria want in?”

“Ah thanks, but we’ve got plans tonight,” he replies. “But you three should come to ours at some point. Maybe before movie night on Saturday?”

You had completely forgotten that a movie night was on the cards, but found yourself looking forward to it. And you were always happy to reap the benefits of someone else’s cooking.

“Sounds good to me,” says Joel. “Ellie?”

“Yeah. Cool,” she responds ambivalently as she shifts some wood around.

“Well, that’s a plan then,” Tommy confirms.

You depart shortly after, not wanting to arouse Ellie’s suspicions any further than they already were by goggling at Joel while he was trying to work. As the stew is simmering away quite happily on its own and the evening outside is pleasant you decide to do something small to celebrate having both hands at your disposal again. When Mrs. Drew had discovered that you had liked to knit and sew prior to the outbreak, she had insisted that you take a set of needles and some yarn, and also gave you permission to come and use her sewing machine as you saw fit.

The wooden chair on your porch is made more comfortable with the addition of a cushion, and you set a steaming cup of peppermint tea on the table, the fresh leaves harvested from one of the plants that you and Ellie have nurtured between you. Sweet springtime scents of grass and magnolia are carried to you on the warm breeze. Flowers that are starting to flourish in gardens and that bud in window boxes nod along to it, the rustle of leaves a soothing hiss of background noise. A gentle peace permeates the evening. Your fingers are clumsy as first, having not made these subtle movements in such a long time. But before long the muscle memory is revived and you begin to create rows in earnest, vague thoughts of Christmas scarves and hats for Ellie and Joel flitting through your mind.

After a time, distant voices begin to filter through the peace that surrounds you and you smile to yourself as you recognise the sounds of your neighbours making their way home.

“-found all these art supplies,” Ellie is saying. “It was pretty cool.”

“Where did you say this was?” asks Joel.

“Just an old campground,” Ellie says shiftily. “On the edge of Jackson. No one had been in there for a while.”

Though you were still a relative newcomer to Jackson, you didn’t recall there being any kind of place within its walls.

Joel is clearly thinking along the same lines because he begins “I don’t remember seein’-“ before Ellie steamrollers through his sentence and continues talking.

“So Dina went back to get more paper and made me this!”

They emerge into your line of sight, Ellie with a gaudily colourful paper crown on her head, and Joel eyeing her suspiciously. His face clears as he catches sight of you behind her, and Ellie turns to regard you too.

“It’s a good look for the Queen of Jackson,” you smile and are rewarded when she beams back at you. You stand and stretch, rolling your shoulders gently and not missing the way that Joel’s eyes drop to your chest as you puff it out. You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face, and he gives an unabashed grin in return. “You guys ready for some food?”

“God yes, I’m starving,” she says eagerly.

“Jus’ give us some time to wash up,” Joel adds, and Ellie throws her head back with an exaggerated and exasperated groan that he is delaying her mealtime a while longer.

Once back in your kitchen, you spoon a good proportion of the stew into a red ceramic crock pot and place the lid on it before carrying it across to Joel’s house, your shoulder only mildly protesting at the strain it is under.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joel beams once he answers the door, and the term of endearment makes you smile shyly. “Come on in. Let me take that…Jesus! This thing is really fuckin’ heavy! You sure you should be strainin’ that shoulder?”

You grin at his fussing over you.

“Well the doc did say I can do more with it. I need to build up the muscles again before I can think of starting to go back outside, so…” You trail off as you follow him into his house, hoping he understands that you want to get back out there with him as soon as possible.

He places the stew on his stove and you move to the cutlery drawer to begin the process of setting the table.

“Nuh-uh,” he chides softly as he comes up behind you and closes the drawer again. “Ellie’s upstairs takin’ her shower and I feel like I ain’t seen you in days.”

"Joel, you literally saw me twenty minutes ago," you smirk as you turn to him.

"Daaaays," he repeats softly as he cages you with his arms against the counter top and kisses you hungrily. God you were never going to get enough of this. You can feel his desire in the movement of his lips, feel how he’s holding himself back from devouring you, feel the delicious tension in the low rumbling moan that he can’t stop himself from emitting. But his hands are gentle as they slide from the counter to hold you closer, one continuing its path up your back and neck and around your face until it presses delicately against your cheek, cradling your jaw and holding you exactly where you both want you to be. He’s always so gentle with you, even when you cling to each other desperately in the darkness of the barn, even when you know there is so little time that you can steal, there is always a tenderness in his actions.

Sometimes you wish he would be a little rougher.

The thought rises unbidden and it fans the embers that seem to be constantly within you these days to a sudden roar. You press yourself against him more fully, sliding your hands around his hips, up under his shirt and running them over the rippled muscles of his shoulders with careless abandon. The shuddering exhalation that your skin on his elicits from him provokes a near savage feeling somewhere within and your kisses burn hotter, more desperate as you trail your lips over the hair at his jaw, mouthing at his neck as you rake your nails softly down his back.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers fervently. “You…you gotta stop.”

You break away from him immediately, and take in his now slightly dishevelled, panting self, his eyes dark and wild as they look at you, his lips swollen from the bruising kisses you had shared. Did you do that? With a few simple touches of your hands and lips?

“Sorry,” you murmur, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “I just…you’re just-”

“I know,” he says, kissing you chastely and smiling cheekily. “So are you. But I can’t be all riled up just before dinner.”

“Well…it’s a little late for me,” you confess, running your hands through his soft waves.

Before he can respond you hear a door close upstairs. You both look toward the sound and then back at each other, and he plants one last soft kiss on your forehead before sliding his hands back from around your waist. You smile to yourself as you hear Ellie begin to move around upstairs, and you begin to rifle through the cutlery drawer again.

Dinner is a little more uncomfortable than you expected. You’re trying to keep your eyes off Joel as much as possible, certain that at these close quarters Ellie’s scrutiny of your behaviour will reveal something you don’t want it to. Instead you mostly look at her, or down at your plate, and every time you risk a look at Joel he seems to be doing the same thing. In between eating, the three of you talk about what you think will be shown at the movie night, how Ellie is enjoying being away from farming, how you think your shoulder is healing. The usual, pleasantly innocuous conversation you would expect to find at the dinner table and you begin to slide into a more relaxed feeling about the evening.

And that’s when Ellie strikes.

You swear she waits until the precise moment Joel takes a large swig of water before she speaks.

“So…you guys fucking?”

It works. Joel’s eyes bulge comically as he splutters and then spits his water all over the table and his empty plate and begins coughing violently.

“Well, that’s a yes,” she mutters, her eyes dancing gleefully.

“E-Ellie! Christ!” he wheezes between coughs.

“Oh please. You two are so not subtle. And you-" She points at Joel accusingly "-were waaaay too happy that whole trip out to the museum.”

“I was happy…because…I was with you…ungrateful…child!”

“Yeah, but-“

She suddenly looks uncertain and her eyes dart between you and Joel. You look down at your own plate and bite your lip. It wasn’t your place to say anything if Joel wasn’t ready to tell her. In all things concerning Ellie, he would necessarily have to be the one to make final decisions of this kind. It was just how it was. You had no desire to complicate their relationship or insert yourself where you weren’t wanted, nor to take a father from a girl who had already seemingly lost so much. At the same time, she wasn’t stupid and you didn’t want to lie.

You look up again to find Joel looking at you. He’s still clearing his throat, trying valiantly to dislodge the remnants of the water in there. He gives a tiny nod, and you take that as your cue to proceed.

“Not…not fucking, no."

“But you are together?”

“If we were would that be okay?”

Ellie sighs deeply and speaks as if what she’s saying is the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes, dummies. It would be okay. I…I know you were worried about taking him away from me, but I also know that’s not going to happen. I just want this loser-“ she gestures at Joel again “-to be happy. And you make him happy. So…I’m happy. Just don’t be too gross, okay?”

Joel has finally stopped coughing and his smile is deep and radiant as he looks from Ellie to you.

“I think we can manage that,” he murmurs as he slides his hand across the table to capture yours.

“No. See. Gross. What did I just say?” Ellie scolds, but she’s smiling too as she says it.

The relief you feel is immense. Ellie was the one person that you had been truly worried about in this whole situation, but her assurances and the way her eyes had sparkled when she saw how happy Joel was at her words had successfully put those fears to rest. You’re both still careful around her for the rest of the evening – nothing that could be construed as “gross” for a sixteen year old around her father – but he sits a little closer to you than he would normally, allows his hand to rest briefly on the small of your back as you all help to clear the table. Tiny gestures that mean so much because they come from him and because he doesn’t feel the need to hide them any longer.

Only once during the rest of the week does it get awkward. By mutual agreement, you and Joel are still not openly engaging in anything other than friendly interactions publicly. It’s not that you don’t want people to know, more that the perceived weight of the town’s expectation that you would become something more to each other seems too much to deal with right now when everything is so new.

“I like havin’ you, havin’ this all to myself for now,” Joel says succinctly one night on the sofa after Ellie has gone to bed. He leans into you, pressing you down against the cushions and resting his weight on one arm as he lies above you.

You’ve always got me to yourself,” you reply, running your hand over his tensed bicep and feeling those embers flare into sparks in your abdomen. “You seen yourself, Miller? You think I ever even looked at anyone else in this town?”

“Well shucks,” he purrs, exaggerating that Texan twang. “Pretty lady like you givin’ out compliments like that? You’re gonna give me a big head.” He slides his nose over yours softly before leaning in further to kiss you.

“Oh shi-“

Joel scrambles up from his position as if he’s been burned at the sound of Ellie’s horrified, bitten off expletive. You sit up too and whirl toward her far too forcefully, earning yourself a biting jab of pain through your shoulder and arm.

“Sorry,” she says with a grimace, covering her eyes with one hand. “I forgot my Walkman in here.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you echo, mortified beyond belief. “I should go."

“No, no!” she replies, her voice high and taut with her own embarrassment and still with her hand clapped over her eyes as if Medusa herself was in the room. “I should have knocked. My fault.”

“Ellie, you can take your hand away,” Joel says softly, and somehow he seems the most calm of all of you.

She peeks through her fingers, and when she sees you both sitting normally on the sofa breathes a small sigh and does what he says.

“This is still your house,” Joel continues. “And you come and go as you please. Ain’t nothin’ changin’ that. We just maybe gotta set some ground rules for this whole thing.”

“Like…don’t forget your Walkman?” she jokes weakly.

“Like maybe we keep certain things out of communal areas,” he smiles with a meaningful look at you.

“Hey, it’s your house. You guys set the rules here, I’m just a guest,” you babble, holding your hands up in submission.

“Little bit more than a guest at this point,” he murmurs.

“I’m just gonna shout whenever I come in,” Ellie announces as she grabs her Walkman from where it rests on the bookcase. “Waaay easier.”

Movie night is due to begin at seven on the Saturday evening and so just before five you, Joel and Ellie take the short walk through what passes for the suburbia of Jackson over to Maria and Tommy’s. Their house is closer to the centre of town – a modest, three bedroom affair much like your own. The warmth of cooking and the smell of something delicious hits you as soon as Maria answers the door and invites you in.

“We’re having chilli tonight,” she remarks as she gestures for you to sit down on the comfortable looking chairs in her living room. “Tommy insisted on cooking, so don’t blame me if it’s terrible!”

“Excuse me,” Tommy says as he suddenly appears from the kitchen wearing a sauce spattered apron with an invitation to “Kiss the Cook” on it and waving a wooden spoon in a vaguely threatening way. “My cookin’ is sublime!”

“Smores with cheese,” Joel pipes up. “That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“I ran outta marshmallow. And I was six!”

“No excuse for that monstrosity,” grins Joel as Tommy grumbles to himself while returning to the kitchen.

“God, I miss smores,” you sigh.

“What are smores?” Ellie asks.

“Marshmallow, chocolate and graham crackers toasted over a fire. Its so gooey and sweet…I wonder if twenty year old chocolate would really be that bad.”

“I’ll keep my eye out for some,” Joel promises, twinkling at the yearning expression you can feel on your face. His hand lands upon your knee, squeezing it briefly before withdrawing again. Maria doesn’t miss it.

“Glad to see you two have finally made up properly,” she says slyly.

“Yeah well…figured it was about time I got my head outta my ass,” Joel says sheepishly.

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” Tommy says, his voice floating in from the kitchen.

“Don’t make me come in there and shame that chilli,” Joel fires back, an amused expression on his face. “In fact,” he adds as he stands, “I am gonna go tell him all the things he’s doin’ wrong.” Mild and good natured bickering erupts between the brothers as soon as Joel steps into the kitchen and all three of you roll your eyes at each other and grin.

The chilli is delicious – just the right amount of heat, tender meat, a rich, thick sauce and buttery potato skins on the side. Joel teases that it was his guidance that made the meal so appetising, and you have to stifle your laugher at the outrage on Tommy’s face and in his voice.

After dinner, the five of you stroll into the town centre. People are gathering in the same building that the winter dance was held at, but when you walk in the room looks quite different to before. A projector has been set up at the back of the room, a large white sheet has been affixed to one wall and dozens of chairs have been squeezed in front of it. Children run and squeal as they play, their parents and guardians chatter happily above their noise.

“So what’s on?” you ask Tommy.

“Labyrinth. I was going to go with Indiana Jones, but Maria thought the face melting scene might be a bit too frightenin’ for the littler kids.”

“Ooof, yeah. I remember the first time I saw that. I was ten and it still freaked me out! But David Bowie’s lycra covered crotch should be fine, right?”

Tommy snorts a laugh. “Accordin’ to Maria. Annnd she is the boss.”

He moves away to make the last minute preparations for the evening and Joel takes his place, handing you a bottle of water before opening his own and taking a sip.

“Maybe I should get you some tight lycra pants, Miller,” you say softly so that only he can hear. “Pretty sure you’ve got the goods for them.”

For the second time that week, Joel chokes uncontrollably on his drink. So much so that Ellie looks across from where she’s sat next to a girl with a large and ornate lotus tattooed on her arm before rolling her eyes at the pair of you and resuming her conversation.

“Jesus Christ, woman. What brought that on?” he wheezes.

“Labyrinth,” you say casually, gesturing to the sheet ahead as the lights begin to dim.

Joel moves behind you, slides one big hand around your waist and pulls you tight against him in the darkness.

“Now you just settle down and behave,” he commands in a husky voice that you’re almost sure has nothing to do with the water he inhaled and that gives you a pleasant tingling shiver all up your spine. “Or I’ll have to stop givin’ you the one thing I know you want from me.”

You tip your head back so you’re face to face with him but upside down.

“Your cooking?” you ask, innocently.

“Damn straight,” he growls menacingly, his eyes twinkling and kind in the semi darkness. And then, so naturally you think he must have forgotten how public a place you’re both in, he kisses you. A soft, brief, chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless and when you tip your head the right way again he pulls you even tighter against him and you lace your fingers with him as they rest against your stomach. You settle against him, tuck your head comfortably against the crook of his neck and he kisses you again, this time on top of your head. You can see more than a few people glancing your way, most with small smiles on their faces, some looking a little sullen. This was it then. You and Joel together in public as a couple, no more secrecy or hiding. You can’t deny the rush of warmth that fills you, nor the dopey smile you know is stretched across your face. It feels too good to let people know. That he is yours and you are his.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle @ohthemisssery @harperdoodle @hummelmi @casssiopeia @midgetpottermills @rivierasunsetdiner

Next chapter

[you-fuckin-judas]

Young Royals : The importance of physical touch [P2]

The first part of this was very well received, and for that thank you!

I've been reading everyone's responses and the tags and I'm very happy that so many people enjoyed what I had to say? You're all very kind and for that I thank you 💜

If you want to read that first part you can find it here

OKAY I couldn't fit all my favorite moments in the last post, so let's continue on!

Consensual physical touch [continued]

What are we going to do? [ Season 1 Episode 6 ]

They have just been HIT by a HUGE amount of stress and trauma, and the first thing they do when they are alone is break the barrier of space. They are both more at ease and willing to figure things out if they can have the comfort of touch from the other.

This season they had been lit with a lot of soft golden ambient light, and this is one of the scenes when shit gets real and scary. To have the lighting change also, really sets the mood for what is going on.

But we never lose the feeling of the touch we got when we did have the golden light, even though things are getting intense their love is still the same.

are you..are you okay? [ Season 1 Episode 2 ]

OKAY there's a lot to discuss here because it's a back and forth test between the two of them.

We have first, the jump scare which walks us RIGHT into the first touch of their hands. Which Simon is leading, and really trying to figure out if things are going the way he thinks they are.

Which starts well, until they get spotted by Sara, causing Wille to straight up panic and run, which causes Simon to also panic and follow.

I've heard quite a few people say the first kiss was awkward and uncomfortable to watch, and I'll tell you what if you've never tried to kiss someone when you aren't sure? It's terrifying. and awkward.

You're jumping into the ocean and it's pitch black and you aren't sure if the other person is gonna help you swim or if they are gonna drown you.

In this case Wille takes a little too long to respond and Simon tries one more time, really REALLY trying to see if he's right or not.

Once Simon realizes, hey this doesn't feel like a two way road, he panics and tries to leave. He doesn't push Wille, he understands that he isn't responding so he immediately tries to fix it. But Wille grabs him and begs him to stay, realizing finally at that point what is happening.

Again, breaking the separation of space between them trying to communicate that he essentially messed up.

He brings Simon closer, not immediately, but slowly to show him that he does understand now and that he is willing to see where it goes. He doesn't say it. He's showing it.

This is where our beautiful unspoken language of consensual physical touch is at, they have broken the barrier of space and stay in this INTIMATE tight space for a decent amount of time to get their bearings.

To understand that yes this is something both of them want, even if it took Wille just a bit longer to figure out.

AGAIN shout out the intimacy coordinator because I could feel the heat of embarrassment and anxiety off this scene and it was so real it made me need to take a lap around my house.

Simon let's Wille initiate the kiss, he's already tried initiating twice and failed he's not about to push it. He stays exactly where he's at, he wants Wille to communicate physically that it is in fact actually a two way road.

jag älskar dig [ Season 2 Episode 6 ]

This scene is so INTIMATE and personal again, I feel like we shouldn't be allowed in the hall with them. Simon is finally telling Wille he wants to be with him, regardless of if he's a secret or not at this point.

That he loves Wille. AND HE SAYS IT. This is a rare occurrence where Wille has felt Simon love him but for once he actually needed to hear it.

This is also a rare occurrence where we get a very physical emotional reaction out of Wille : the breath of relief, the glossy eyes, the clinging to Simon.

We still have people who can see them from the hall, so we aren't going to get what we assume would be the most wholesome kiss we would ever see.

But the build up to it is there, it's very similar to the scene in season 1 episode 5 when they are in Simon's room. They aren't ever breaking physical contact, regardless of who's watching because that is how special this moment is to them. They are communicating without speaking.

That this is all they want, bringing themselves back in again to this really tight intimate space.

Sharing breath.

Faces mere inches apart.

Just for the sake of being together. It's beautiful. And I absolutely wept watching it.

Thank you for not leaving me alone with this. [ Season 1 Episode 6 ]

This is their first real intense test of their relationship and they know it, and it's scary.

The scarier part being they each have to go fight their part of it on their own, but we get this really beautiful scene between them before they part.

Simon is there trying to keep Wille calm and under control, and tells him that he's brave for doing what he needs to for the sake of their relationship.

Again, Simon is really good with words of affirmation but he knows sometimes Wille won't respond to hearing something like that as much as a physical touch.

So it's important he uses not only his love language but Wille's in this instance as well, so he breaks the space and gives a kiss of reassurance, while resting his head against Wille's. Once again bringing us back to that tight intimate space, which has become a safe space for them.

Which Wille immediately responds to pulling him in for a TIGHT embrace, his arms wrapped fully around Simon. I mean he's scared there might be a chance he could lose Simon, and he's literally clinging to the hope that doesn't happen.

This is also different then the hugs we've seen before from them. Usually Simon wraps his arms around Wille's neck, and Wille will wrap his around Simon's waist.

However we have what I like to call an X hug here, which is exactly what it sounds like. We have one arm over one shoulder and the other around the waist and the other person does the same just mirrored.

I personally usually associate this type of embrace with really intense emotions, like wanting to be as close to the other person as humanely possible and TIGHT, and this embrace is a good way for that to be possible.

[for instance if you see someone you haven't seen for a really long time, or if something really horrible has just happened and someone is consoling you]

The stroke of his thumb on Simon's shoulder is also something very tender in this moment I want to point out.

Thank you again for all the kind words on my analysis! I'm really enjoying making them! 😁

[belit0]

Can i request some NSFW Indra stuff? Maybe a story or headcanon? I am too hungry and desperate for that man.

Oh and this is my first time requesting something so i am kind of lost on what I exactly want. Sorry

Of course, I must take special time for this request, as I love and adore all those who ask for Indra (and Izuna) content!!!

Being your first request, I welcome you to this wonderful world of doom, and I thank you for taking the time to interact with me! (and sorry for taking so long 😭)

Here's a mix of a little bit of everything, because I love creating content for Indra and I love getting requests for him. Feel free to send me any other ideas you may have.

- Dominant to an overwhelming degree. There is no way this man will accept contact if he is not the one calling the shots at all times. He does not appreciate (Y/N) trying to turn the game around.

- It angers him when (Y/N) wants to initiate, while he is the one who always has to determine times and places. There is no way she will be the one to suggest it, and the few times it has happened, Indra is much more aggressive than usual. "You're going to regret asking for that."

- He likes it rough and raw, but it also sweetens his ego to know his woman is enjoying it. Occasionally he prioritizes her pleasure, and if he is in a good mood, he may even devote himself solely to making her come, without taking anything in return.

- Indra is not good at vociferating feelings or explaining what is going on inside, not because he lacks words, but because he believes it to be a weakness. He prefers to show his love with a good night of sex, and for (Y/N) to understand him with every thrust against her.

- He doesn't like to tie up his hair when doing it, preferring to leave it loose and in the air, to let it rain down his back as he pounds her carelessly.

- It's brutal, genuinely brutal. He goes a long time without cumming for the initial release and can go in and out for hours at a time. He has total control over his body and stimuli, controlling when to finish and doing what he wants with her. "You're mine to do as I please."

- Generally, (Y/N) ends up getting hurt. It will be her pussy that gets totally red and irritated, her skin with bite marks and hickeys. She will be used for hours without respite, to the point where her body no longer responds.  "I'm not done with you yet."

- If Indra had a bad day, apart from taking it out on his poor pupils, he will ravage her in bed. He will not show an ounce of love, turning her over and taking her as he pleases, without considering for a second whether she is enjoying it. "Get on all fours, head down, and ass up."

- If Indra had a good day, he will be kind to the point of trying to be gentle, not make her suffer, and prioritize her getting the most attention. If genuinely in a very good mood, he may even slip in a compliment or a sweet, unexpected, and unusual nickname.

And now, a small, never-before-seen scene of INDRA BEING NICE!

His hands glide over her body in a gentle way, a rare occurrence. Indra's touches are often strong and violent, as if bringing war to bed. There are not many opportunities where he is affectionate, where he shows more than sadistic arousal, genuinely caring about how (Y/N) feels and lives the experience.

Lying on the bed, he hugs her back, while placing soft kisses on her neck. Reaching up to her ear, he slowly bites her earlobe, while his free hand caresses every inch of her skin.

He gently squeezes her breast, concentrating on her nipple, while maneuvering her a little so that he can kiss her deeply. Both tongues perform a familiar dance, intertwining and retreating for air.

Eye contact with him is generally intense, and (Y/N) can't stand those black orbs penetrating her without fear. It seems as if Indra could see her thoughts, and know how she feels. Under the scrutiny of his gaze, she feels naked, with no place to escape and hide.

Today, he looks at her with love, without harshness or aggression, with pure passion and affection hidden behind years of suffering.

(Y/N) knows he loves her as much as she loves him, but sometimes it is hard to remember that with the rough and brutal ways the Otsutsuki has about him.

Lost under his eyes, Indra takes the opportunity to move down, slipping between her legs and slowly pulling her clothes off. His tongue seems to lovingly kiss her crotch, unhurriedly and cautiously, genuinely seeking out those spots that make her tremble.

So unaccustomed to Indra's gentle treatment and patience, she feels completely emotional, a mixture of thrill and arousal that soon culminates in pure pleasure. She lets herself be swept up in the moment, and one of her hands lands in his hair, pulling and pressing him tighter against her skin.

She immediately becomes aware of her action and stops herself in her tracks, fearing that he will become angry, and decide to revert to his usual tyrannical attitude. Her eyes go wide and all the happiness of the moment quickly disappears to be replaced by panic, pulling her hand away and looking at him in terror.

"Did I say you can stop?" The ninja surprises her by taking her hand and placing it back on his head, encouraging her to pull his hair and use his face as she sees fit. It takes her a little while to acclimatize again after that fright, and she can tell Indra is grinning mischievously between her legs.

Doing justice to his mouth talent, it's not long before (Y/N) turns into a mess under his tongue, disarmed and surrendered to her husband's supplies. "Cum for me, pretty one." The compliment sends her straight to her peak, unaccustomed to hearing nice words towards her from Indra's mouth.

A mixture of fingers and lips ends up making her explode, trembling under his hands and with the Otsutsuki holding her hips so she doesn't pull away.

[safetycar-restart]

More PA Charles content here we goooo!! Going to be another big one hehe. Loved the idea that only you can take off Charles’ cage. Normally you take it off as soon as the two of you get home from work. However, sometimes its fun to play with him a bit, leaving it on him a while and not bringing it up when you’re home. Especially when you know he’s had a tough week and needs an intense scene to start off the weekend. He wants to ask for it off, but he knows you’re the one who makes the decisions, and if you decide it’s not the right time then he’ll wait!! But he will be very needy in the meantime. You go about some tasks round the house like laundry, responding to emails etc and he just follows you around with 🥺 eyes, cutely huffing and whining away. You ignore it for a while, just asking him about his day or what he wants for dinner, but he’s so frustrated he can only reply in short little sentences. He thought you’d finally take it off when you both get changed into comfy clothes, but still no mention of it, little one is losing his mind!!

When you eventually sit down to cuddle on the sofa, the whining just gets worse, he wants to be a good boy and wait but he’s already waited all day!! He just burrows into your neck and clings to your shirt as he cuddles you. You play innocent, asking what’s bothering him. He’s past the point of words now, so frustrated at his inability to get hard. He just grinds into your side and whines louder. ‘Oh, you want me to touch you baby?’ you ask him, and he nods and whines even more into your side. You ask him to fetch the lube from a nearby cabinet (you have lube all over the house) and he practically runs there and back, so excited. He sits down by your side and lets you slowly take off his sweats and boxers in one motion to reveal his caged cock. ‘Poor baby, with your cock all locked up’ you coo at him as you trace your finger delicately up and down the cage. ‘But it looks so pretty like this, don’t you think?’ you ask, other hand stroking his hair as he sniffles and whines under you. He can’t help but nod, as much as he wants it off, he agrees. Your hand trails down to his balls, still stroking with only the tip of your finger.

After teasing him with these light touches for a while, you get him to lay down on his back on the sofa and bend his legs until he can hold onto the back of his knees. You sit in between them, running one hand up and down one of his thighs while the other goes to cradle his face. ‘I think I want to play with your ass first sweetheart. Can you hold on a bit longer for me?’ You ask for his colour at this point too as you know you’re pushing him, but it’s a Friday and he likes spending most of the weekend in subspace, so this will be a good way to start him off. He starts to cry now, but still says ‘green’, he loves being denied and knows you won’t take it too far. You massage his balls as you tease at his rim, making sure to call him your good boy and tell him how well he’s taking all of this. You move down to kiss at his thigh as you slip another finger in, praising him; ‘All mine to play with, for my enjoyment, you just lay there and look pretty for me baby’. You finger fuck him for a bit, but you see that he’s barely able to keep hold of his legs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he does his best not to thrash about. You take this as your cue to give him a bit of mercy, making sure to add one more finger before you eventually pull out.

He still hasn’t directly asked for the cage off, sometimes he’s in the mindset to beg but tonight he leaves it all up to you. When you eventually fetch the key (maybe it’s attached to a necklace??) a new wave of tears hits him. You know it’s going to be intense when he cums, so you have him sit in your lap, manhandling him until his back is to your chest and your legs are hooked over his to keep them down. You take the cage off as slowly as possible, letting your other hand slowly stroke up to the tip of his cock once and then pull off. The two of you watch as he grows to hardness without being touched. ‘What a patient boy you’ve been, huh?’ you whisper as you wrap one arm around his waist. He’s already leaking from the tip and you can’t help but gather some of it up with your finger and bring it to his lips. ‘You kept this in all day for me, what a good boy. Let it all out for me now baby’. He sucks away at your fingers, getting them nice and wet. You take them out and get him to spit into your palm before finally wrapping your hand around his cock. He bucks his hips immediately, almost taking both of you off the couch as he thrusts forward. ‘Easy little one, I’ve got you’ you coo into his side, tightening your grip on his waist. It only takes a couple of strokes until Charles is coming, he literally screams out as you encourage him to let it all go. He covers your hand and his own chest with his cum, you’ve never seen him orgasm with this much intensity before. He even blacks out for a couple of seconds, completely slumped against you. He’s completely floating, panting away and using all his effort to try and mumble little thank yous. You bundle him up in your arms, knowing you pushed him but it’s worth it to see him hit subspace like this. Later when you talk about it he definitely asks for more denial, but only for your intense weekend scenes. (Sorry this was basically an essay...)

NEVER APOLOGISE FOR SENDING ME AN ESSAY OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS. This is perfect in every way and I’m gonna try my best to add more thoughts to this but it’s already incredible.

I love the idea that Fridays are for intense scenes. He always works so hard during the week and needs to stay focused so you never push him too hard during the week. He can sometimes take until the next day before he’s okay again after an intense scene and you can’t risk that when there’s work in the morning.

Consequently, you tend to take his cage off the moment he gets home during the week. He can have a nice handjob or you can ride him if he wants, but nothing more hectic than that.

Until Friday when he knows it’s time for some real fun. He’s always so excited by the time Friday afternoon rolls around, practically bouncing as he walks with you out of the office and into the car to be driven to your apartment.

He waits by the door after you enter, expecting to hear you tell him to go to the bedroom and take off his clothes for his cage to be removed and then it’ll be fine to see what scene you have in store for him. But instead, you don’t say anything.

He’s absolutely losing his mind.

He just follows you around while you do some basic things like put the laundry in the machine, ordering groceries, etc.

You still haven’t changed out of your work clothes and so neither has Charles. Logically he knows he could go get changed into some comfy clothes and come back to you, but he can’t. He’s your little one and it’s Friday! He can’t make decisions or do anything on his own, he turned his little mind off the moment he left work with you.

So he follows you. And of course you notice his annoyance and know exactly what’s wrong. But you don’t say anything, because you want to tease him a little. You want him to be so worked up when you finally give him what he wants.

Then you head to the bedroom to change into comfy clothes and he thinks that he’ll finally get relief. Except you just… hand him some comfy clothes and don’t even acknowledge the cock cage. He’s nearly in tears.

What’s going on?? Why isn’t he getting his usual attention!!!

He knows he could call red and you’d stop instantly, you’d help him immediately and give him comfort and love. But he doesn’t want that. He wants to see what happens, wants to be pushed. He trusts you, and he knows it’ll all work out in the end and that you’d never do this if you weren’t positive he would love the outcome.

But still, he’s pouty!! Usually by now he’s already had his cock played with!! He’s been so good for you!! He was the perfect assistant all week and wore his cage the whole time and did everything you asked and now it’s Friday night and he should be fucked out by now!! This isn’t fair.

Little one is gonna lodge a complaint with HR over this.

He really starts breaking when he’s cuddled on the couch with you. Usually when he gets cuddles like this, his cage is already off and he can take your hand and put it down his boxers, a silent request for you to hold his cock.

Now not only is he all worked up, but he can’t even have his cock held!!! HR will hear about this.

So he just kinda cuddles against your side, whining and trying to grind against you. He wants to make it 10000% clear that he’s not happy with the current situation and wants attention. Now!!

He nearly cries in relief when you tell him to go fetch the lube. Finally!!! He’s finally gonna get taken care of!!

You have him lay back against the sofa and you kneel on the ground in front of him, taking his pants and boxers off to reveal his caged cock. It’s so pretty!! All cute and tucked away in his cage.

You run your hands over it, praising him and telling him how much you love seeing this. He smiles then, pleased that he’s making you happy. Even though he’s so desperate, he’s also so happy to make you happy. He’s been a good boy!!!

“I think we should keep your cock in a cage for a bit longer, yeah?” You ask him, even though you both know it’s not a question, “just keep it safe for a while.”

He nods, saying green when you ask and then whimpering when you start playing with his ass. He’s so cute, shaking around your finger, his cock swelling in the cage and trying to get hard.

You have your fun with him, listening to his whines and whimpers as you slowly take him apart. He shakes every time you angle your fingers up, gripping his thighs so hard that his knuckles are white.

He doesn’t beg though, doesn’t say anything aside from mumbling green when you ask him for his colour. Some days he’s vocal, and likes to beg and plead. But when he just wants to be pushed like this, he tends to prefer you just taking control and being your toy. He gets no say in what you do, can only lay there and take it.

You take mercy on him when he starts to struggle to keeps his legs up, because you know that means he’s getting a bit too desperate. You have the whole weekend with him, there’s no need to push him to the edge now already.

He whines when you take your fingers out, shuffling forwards to try and get them back. Normally he’d get a pinch for that, but you know he’s desperate and not thinking straight so you’ll let it slide.

You remove the cage slowly, making sure to not hurt him and putting the cage on the table to be cleaned later. You stroke him to full hardness softly, gathering some precum from the tip and letting him suck on it. He closes his eyes as he suckles on your finger, relaxing back into the couch.

You move to sit next to him, letting him cuddle into your side and having him lift his one leg and putting it over your lap for easy access. He feels boneless besides you, not an ounce of tension in his body.

But he gets desperate again when you start to stroke his cock to full hardness. He whines and bucks his hips, almost violent.

You move the hand you had around his shoulder to around his waist, gripping him tight to steady him and telling him he can cum.

“Make a mess,” you tell him, “you’ve been so good darling, now it’s time to let go. Yeah? Make a big mess for me.”

It only takes a few more strokes and then he’s done, cumming all over your hand and crying. He cums so hard, all over your hand and his tummy, nearly blacking out with how intense it was.

He slumps against you when it’s over, and you grab his other leg to move it over your lap as well. He ends up sitting across your lap, hiding in your chest and trying to recover.

He’s floating in subspace for the rest of the day, getting lots of cuddles and kisses and praise.

[watchmenanon]

Posting this article because I've noticed that many of you have a lot of questions about actors and the process that happens when their jobs require them to do a kissing scene and I think you'll be able to find the majority of the answers you need here.

[tagging @cluelessbees because she was interested in reading it]

------------------------------------------------------

Do Actors Really Kiss?

BY CHRIS FRAWLEY | LAST UPDATED: JUNE 24, 2022

For new and aspiring actors, the prospect of playing a role that involves kissing can be daunting. One of the first questions you’ll most likely ask is: Do actors actually kiss? This can be a major concern if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of being intimate with someone you may just be meeting for the first time. 

So, do actors really kiss? Short answer: It depends. They usually do some form of kissing, but there are ways to get around it (more on that later).

Whether you wind up locking lips with another actor or not, there’s a lot that goes into kissing scenes that you should know about.

How are kissing scenes made?

The mechanics of kissing scenes vary wildly; the famous Tobey Maguire–Kirsten Dunst upside-down “Spiderman” kiss required different logistics than the three-way Gael García Bernal–Diego Luna–Maribel Verdú “Y Tu Mamá También” kiss, for example. Scene tone and rhythm, magnetism, and kissing style are the main elements that factor into any kissing scene.

Scene tone and rhythm: Matching the kiss with the tone and rhythm of the scene is the most significant factor; you don’t want to bring the hilariously awkward Kathryn Hahn–John C. Reilly “Step Brothers” kissing energy to a scene that calls for Kate Winslet–Leonardo DiCaprio “Titanic” romantic kissing (or vice versa). Your director or intimacy coordinator may instruct you on how they want your kiss performed, or they may leave it to the discretion of you and your castmate. Don’t forget: the timing and intensity must be just right for the scene to work.

Magnetism: Actions like maintaining eye contact, holding each other, gradually leaning in, slightly opening your mouth, or puckering your lips during the lead-up help visibly create magnetism between you and your partner that will elevate the chemistry of the kiss. 

Kissing style: After you decide how to dress the kiss, figure out if it should be open- or closed-mouth. Unless the scene explicitly calls for it, keeping your tongue to yourself is usually a good idea. 

If you’re acting out a tender love affair, consider making the kiss delicate and drawn-out. When a sudden burst of passion is called for, try going for it with reckless abandon. With longer kisses, you may want to mix it up; try breaking it off before going back in or moving from closed-mouth to open-mouth. In all cases, work with your scene partner to figure out what feels natural and comfortable.

How do I prepare for a kissing scene?

Considering how complicated kissing can be off-camera, it’s important to prepare for your onscreen kiss before lips meet lips. Having a familiarity with the script, rapport with your scene partner, good oral hygiene, and openness with your real-life partner, if you have one, will all help prepare you for a kissing scene. 

Know the story: Understanding the dramatic weight behind a kissing scene will help you get in the right mindset to perform. Without this knowledge, the moment may fall flat. For example, in “The Notebook,” Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams play a couple whose relationship is riddled with hardship and tragedy. But despite many setbacks, their passion endures, culminating with a heated confrontation and an iconic rain-drenched kiss. What makes the moment so impactful? The lead-up. When the two embrace, they release the emotional pressure that has been building up between them, making the kiss more than just a kiss. 

Break the ice with your kissing partner: Review the scene with your castmate before rehearsals begin. Discussing the kiss, joking around, and building a rapport can go a long way toward nurturing the all-too-crucial chemistry that will make your fictional romance believable. If you both stay friendly, respectful, communicative, and professional, the scene is more likely to go smoothly. 

Keep it clean: Practice good oral hygiene if you’re participating in a kissing scene. Floss, brush your teeth, and rinse with mouthwash before rehearsals and performances. (Of course, if you’re like Jennifer Lawrence, you can play a prank on your Liam Hemsworth and chow down on some tuna and garlic before your kiss to cause a chuckle—but we don’t recommend this as standard practice.)

Be honest in your relationship: If you’re in a romantic relationship, discuss your kissing scene with your real-life partner(s) in advance. Knowing that your partner is aware of the kissing scene ahead of time will make you more comfortable when it takes place.

Do actors rehearse kissing scenes?

Actors may be asked to practice kissing scenes during rehearsal to resolve any issues, or they may be asked to hold off so the kiss feels organic. Usually, a director will request that the scene be rehearsed (or not) and discuss that choice with the actors until a decision or compromise is reached. Intimacy coordinators can assist with this process during rehearsals by emphasizing technique, consent-forward frameworks, safety, and open communication.

While you may be able to fake kissing for some or all your rehearsals, it’s usually a good idea to try the real deal out at least once before shooting for several reasons:

To break any anticipation brewing between you and your castmate

To figure out each other’s bodily rhythm and sync up. If you’re not moving at the same pace, it’ll throw the scene out of whack.

To practice your kiss in front of your peers in a constructive setting prior to a performance, when the pressure will be higher

Before and during rehearsals, you and your castmate should discuss all the details of kissing we mentioned earlier. Outline your boundaries and talk about where you can touch each other (on the shoulders, waist, thighs, or even lips only) before you start getting physical. After rehearsal, go over the scene with them. Did you feel good about it? Were you uncomfortable? Let them know!

Can actors refuse kissing scenes?

Actors may hesitate to kiss another actor for a myriad of personal reasons, including sexuality, religion, relationship status, germophobia, or fear of an orally transmitted disease. You are within your rights to refuse a kissing scene, but the director will also be within their rights to find an actor who will perform the scene as written. 

Many directors are empathetic when it comes to the concerns of their actors. Be honest with them about your reservations. If they’re aware of how you feel, they might adapt the rehearsal environment to make you more comfortable.

What are some alternatives to kissing?

If your anxiety over locking lips begins to overwhelm you, here are a few options for avoiding it altogether:

The stage kiss: In this technique, one actor cups the other’s face in a way that appears natural and romantic before drawing them in. Right before they connect, the former places their thumb over the latter’s lips so that no direct mouth-to-mouth contact occurs.

Blocking: The director can position you in relation to the camera or audience in a way that disguises what’s going on up close. 

A blackout: If you’re working on the stage, the technical director can cut the lights just as the kiss is supposed to occur. If you and your partner are positioned to suggest a kiss is happening, the audience will fill in the blank with their imagination. 

A stunt double: This only works if you’re filming, and it’s highly circumstantial. Not only will you need someone who you are comfortable kissing on hand, they’ll also have to look like the actor they’re standing in for. 

A different action: Your director may be willing to substitute a kiss for another physically intimate movement that conveys the same meaning, such as a loving embrace. 

Unfortunately, not every director will bend the rules for you. If everything else fails, maybe the part just isn’t for you. You can always try to find another role within the production and leave the kissing to someone else.

[gothamcityneedsme]

Ok and now the more important task of finding Tav where I'm not sure he is.

What is birds? That's the one I can't place at all. And what is Shadows and Smoke? It feels familiar but I don't think my memory is accurate

@abysskeeper hilariously (and obviously) tav is in all of the pieces except the ones specifically named for other characters, lmao. its like .either the character's name is in the title OR its about tavon. oops.

under a readmore because it got long.

birds

birds i may have told you about, but also not. i open birds a LOT for how short it is, just a little dialogue snippets. i really want to make it bigger but whenever i open it, i feel like im Not Clever Enough, so then it gets closed. i looove it though.

birds, aka, why Tavon made them a little honeymoon suite on Rishi:

"So, out of all the places you could've set this up--all the little corners of the galaxy that are great for hiding--what made you choose Rishi?"

"The sights, the smells, the locals. The danger. The fact that its so easy to put on another face here--that I have already done so and have a little powerbase."

"…the nature as well, admittedly." "The nature? It isn't even cold." "No--I know that wouldn't be suitable for you. But, temperature isn't what I meant. I meant the birds." "The birds?" she asked, raising a surprised eyebrow. "Yes. I quite like birds. Not that I have an interest in studying them or suchlike--I simply find them pleasing, and Rishi has a good amount of them."

aka. my 'tavon likes birds and finds them pleasing' propaganda. tavon is a character uninterested in having pets (outside of his childhood dog) and even in universes where it works to have animal companions, it isn't really an angle he goes for. despite that, and how much tavon is also not a fan of most nature (being a snow and tundra kinda guy), i've always wanted him to like an aspect of the outdoors that was bigger than climate or just, being outside in general.

anyways. he likes birds. they aren't creatures for the cold, so they're something that don't really exist in his favorite climates. but he still likes them. likes how they sound, likes to see them. could go birdwatching but probably wouldn't be into it enough to be a fully hobbyist, just like, a casual.

i never get to make him a bird fan. so that's what 'birds' is for. trick learns something new about Tavon. the end.

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Shadows and Smoke

this story is about tavon's worst fear becoming reality! he volunteers for a long-cover mission that ends up being longer than it was supposed to be. His loyalty to his side remains intact even though he was behind enemy lines, but somewhere along the way he loses himself. He starts thinking of himself as his cover name, and he feels as though his identity has left him. He isn't sure what to do or how to regain the man he was, and he regrets deeply what has happened. Guilt gnaws at him throughout the story, and he keeps having flashbacks to his original training, where he was molded to be a man bereft of identity.

Shadows and Smoke, aka, the story where Tavon becomes Marc. i'll share a few scenes from this one b/c tbh its so fucking Good i love it so much:

scene 1, aka, Trick, as his wife, notices he is strange upon his return:

The first night they were able to share their bed again, she expected him to flirt with her, to charm her off her feet and out of her clothes. That was similar to how it had usually gone when he had returned from a longer mission.

But, this time he was strangely quiet, almost unsure. He responded well whenever she spoke, but left to his own he seemed to be...in doubt.

It perplexed her, and she wondered just what it had done to him, to have been on such an intense mission for so long.

She sat up when he laid down beside her, leaning over to gently kiss him. He accepted the gesture, but made no move to make it more, and so she didn't either. She pulled back, her hair trailing over the pillow, a curtain between them and the world.

She was going to say something, to ask him what was wrong, but he spoke before she could.

"I'm tired," he said quietly, and the words did match some of what she saw in his eyes. "I feel as though I've been away forever, and that this is but a dream."

"It's no dream," she soothed, brushing her thumb across his cheek, "You're home, and I'm here. I waited, just as you asked."  A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, "I even kept myself out of trouble. I figured you were in more than enough for the two of us."

"I was," he replied softly. He was looking at her in that way where it made her feel like she was the only other person in his world--the only person who got to know him like this, hear him speak like this.  It softened her while also making her sadder--she knew it must have been impossibly difficult for him, to have been under so long. She listened as he continued, "Every day felt like another test to see just how far I could stretch.  I waited for an inevitable snap the longer I remained."

"And did that time come?" she whispered, "The snap?"

His voice was strained, his eyes lost. "I don't know."

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scene 2, aka, Marc and Tavon are different, Marc exists as a truth Tavon has never been. They are, in some ways, antithetical:

Who was Marc Hinan?  Certainly he was more honest than Tavon ever was, especially once he had returned to where he belonged--with the mission complete, secrets could fall away.

From what Marc remembered, Tavon was never really one to drop the secrets. There was always something hidden away, something that was only for him to know. He didn't share all of his burdens, even with those he trusted.

Marc, though, had no such qualms. He had, of course, while hiding. But, he was out now. Finally free to be...

To be Marc, he supposed--the Marc that was hiding even within the identity of himself. The underlayer of Marc, of which he had *thought* had been Tavon, but now he was realizing, that somewhere along the way Tavon had been scraped out, covered up, set aside.

It had been to dangerous for Tavon to be the truth.  And so...he wasn't.

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scene 3, aka, a flashback. tavon has been conditioned and molded to be a certain way, to be a perfect tool. Only now has the harm that has done to him really become clear--ripping him asunder.

The voices of those who trained him stay with him, their names long forgotten, but their words and teachings, echoing in the hollow shell of his mind. (these scenes are second person, they are dreams)

Feel nothing. No pleasure, no pain. Whether you're warm and safe or on the threshold of death, what you feel is the absolute same. You are a shell, to only be filled with a mission. Unless duty calls for it, you will have nothing inside.

No happiness. No relief.

You remembered the feeling of the cold barrel of a gun pressed against your forehead. You stared straight ahead, unflinching even as the acrid scent of gunpowder entered your nostrils.

No fear.

there's so many good scenes in this story. I am so utterly fond of it.