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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months ago

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Oooooh icic! That definitely makes sense now that you mention it too I’m even more curious…if you got a request for a character that was really obscure or say you had 0 interest in would you reject it? Or would you just like grit your teeth and try to write something LOL I know before you said that both your Rin and Sae fics were requests (I think apologies if I remembered wrong) and you also had some Hiori requests too and iirc those characters were all kinda uhh “new” (for lack of a better term) to your usually characters..? And esp with the itoshi “hate” neutrality since they aren’t usually characters you’d write of your own volition, like imagine if someone requested igaguri or like ego what would happen? LMAO

I’m no fic writer but I remember when I had to write essays I’d slap out the first like two paragraphs keep writing and in the end I’d always go back to rewrite the first two because the flow of my writing established itself in the latter parts LOL yeah I think beginning parts are usually less refined on the first draft. At least for me, the inspiration ends up flowing midway through when I finally have a solid idea of what I’m going for HAHA

I’m genuinely hoping we get a lot more spinoff content generally….I know some series make more spinoff content after their series ends so I hope we continue getting more bllkverse expansion soon!!! I seriously wanna know what happened in the other stratums in NEL and the first selections too

Yeahhh it’s wild I think actually there’s a French version of the Bible??? Which is why I’m like what’s the English team doing LMAO Reo getting voted for all the good ones was hilarious like even everyone in bllk is like yup bros got it all (Isagi’s comment was FOUL LMFAOOO) and igaguri being last in everything HAHAHAHA

FR!!! Im just sitting here waiting for a Karasu awakening like PLEASE man has been sitting there busting his ass carrying the team please give him a chance!!!!

Also speaking of Karasu…..ok this is gonna be kinda really random but I actually stumbled upon one of @/i-am-not-strange’s posts but FOR THE LIFE OF ME I can’t press on their profile??? Either my fingers are broken and I’m pressing on something wrong or Tumblr is just flipping out but do you have my idea what art they’re referring to in their recent post about like Karasu and Hiori swapping bodies…? I’m sure it’s not canon but I can’t lie and say I’m not intrigued LOL I would go ask them myself but whenever I try to go to their profile it either a) does nothing b) crashes??? I’ve never had this happen before (like I’m on your profile just fine) but???? Anyways…sorry for having to ask you here LMAO and no worries in advance if you don’t know it just caught my eye LOL

-Karasu anon

honestly i feel like i always cook 10x more with characters i don’t like/am unfamiliar with…maybe because it pushes me out of my comfort zone so i’m more willing to experiment?? like i think the instrument and white butterfly were probably my fav things that i wrote for my event (and honorary mention to seabird because it’s so cutesy) and both were for characters i was unfamiliar with!! lowkey i think i could go crazy with an igaguri or ego fic LMAOAO imagine an ego fic where you know him at his peak as a soccer player and watch his downfall (bonus points if you’re friends with noel noa/connected to that weird ass dynamic somehow) OR an igaguri fic that plays into his weird religious trauma of being forced to be a monk if he can’t play soccer?? mostly it’s treated as a joke but what if it was taken seriously…PLSSSS i need to STFU why did i just genuinely come up with plots for EGO and IGAGURI 😭 suffice to say i would literally write for any character no matter how obscure/how little i personally care abt them 🤩 i try not to let my biases show in my writing either and hopefully i’m successful in that!! like my itoshi neutrality doesn’t rlly manifest in the fics i’ve written for them i think!! so even if someone requested for one of my opps i wouldn’t let my distaste impact how i write/how seriously i take the story

omg that ALWAYS happens to me whenever i do essays too!! that’s why i hated high school writing when our teachers made us write our thesis first…like yes i can write a thesis for you but i can guarantee that i won’t follow it and it’ll be entirely different by the time i submit it so it follows the contents of what i actually wrote vs what i INTEND to write!!

blue lock has SUCH an expansive cast and it’s also sooo popular as a manga so just from a business/financial standpoint it would make 0 sense not to do spin-off stuff!! like i’d even read a sae spin-off of him in spain if they don’t want to go through the bllk program again and want to focus on one of the itoshis…we’ve followed rin pretty closely and know his mentality pretty well so idt he needs a spin-off but depending on how in depth the main manga goes on sae i think a spin-off of him could be fun!! or like shidou or smth…OR AN EGO ORIGIN STORY SPINOFF OMG I’D DIE FOR THAT ACTUALLY like him and young noel noa and their rivalry?? i don’t even like ego that much but i think it would be cool to see his backstory be explored like that!! also an episode anri but we know we’re never getting that sadly

FRRR why is there a french version but not english?? maybe it’s because bllk isn’t as popular here yet?? hoping that changes with season 2 though…i’m not saying jjk fanbase levels of popular because that’s when you get the crazies but def bigger than what it is rn

THEY GAVE HIORI AN AWAKENING THEY CAN GIVE KARASU ONE TOO!! especially because he was so crucial to hiori’s awakening…like come on now kaneshiro be a good author and put some parallels between mr talented but doesn’t care and mr mediocre but works hard 😒

HAHA THAT’S SO WEIRD tumblr stays tweaking 😭 i was able to go on her profile fine so maybe there’s smth going on with your app?? honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a tumblr issue because for how old this app is it’s surprisingly unusable at times 🫣 maybe it’s working for me because she’s one of my mutuals?? idk 😰 also i know the post you’re referencing but do not know what art she was talking abt…i can send her an ask abt it and then link her response in the next ask of yours i answer and hopefully that works!! if not i could also add a screenshot into my answer LMAO

#answered asks

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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 2 years ago

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Okay, I finally managed (when I am too tired, LOL) to watch the first few minutes of this video (a Beatles interview in 1966) and omg I want to analyze their body language so bad.

And here (while I am far too tired) I will attempt to briefly. Thank you for nobody asking me to do this. That'd be weird if they had. Instead, I've done this of my own incredibly strange volition Good for me.

It's easiest to see when they're all standing in front of the table (for like two minutes I think) so hat's what I focused on the most, even though I could analyze their movements when they were sitting at/behind the table (before the interview officially started, I assume - I don't know if this video is shared chronologically?), as well, but anyway...Paul is DISTINCTLY uncomfortable and annoyed over the whole situation (see the micro-expression of rubbing the side of his face with his middle finger, which he did in A WHOLE LOT of videotaped interviews, btw). John is easily the most comfortable white man there, LMAO, and certainly the most comfortable of The Beatles, but I wonder if that's only because he's so blind that he literally cannot see any real reason to be uncomfortable or annoyed (in addition, given his poor vision, he's probably most comfortable because of what/who he can most easily see: his bandmates). Ringo seems interested in the audience (what an extraverted sweetheart), but he's still uncomfortable (folding his hands over each other in front of himself - Paul and George also do that during pretty much the entire time they're standing there in front of the table, and even when Paul is drumming his thighs or standing with his arms folded in front of his chest he is STILL uncomfortable and deeply annoyed), but he's much less uncomfortable compared to Paul and George. George is ALSO DISTINCTLY uncomfortable, but it's interesting (and endearing, imo) how he comforts himself with his purposeful proximity to Ringo - literally the camera shows their outer feet pressed right up next to each other. From what I can tell, George is also trying, however, to feign comfort by sitting on/leaning heaviest against the table; even John, who is practically the picture of comfort (and is also pretty much sitting on the edge of the table), looks more ready and willing to get up and move quickly if needed than George who is, for lack of a better term, anchoring himself to the table (and Ringo, LOL - but there is a moment when John moves closer to Ringo, too, and George follows suit and moves closer to Ringo even though he was already very close to Ringo...Ringo is the anchor of The Beatles at this point, LOL. And perhaps one day I will argue for how he always fucking was, in general, anyway!!!).

Don't worry - I do not plan to make this a series or anything weird like that. Although if you are curious, you may ask, if there are other Beatles interviews you see and are wondering about this sort of thing. THEre is anotHEr bAnd who i will not name but who i could also veRy, very easily do a body language analysis in/from inTerviews for. i think y'all know what Band i'm talking about. paRticularly bEcAuse i am not naming them. iyKyk. And no, sorry, pEaRl jam iS not one of them. although maybe, idk. don't tempt me? 😅 and/but i will say for anyone: it's hard to judge someone's emotions with 100% accuracy when they're high. for, you know, obvious reasons, i guess. lol

#I also wanted to write this and post it because the post that I saw that inspired me to watch it was misleading :/#I mean I think the OP was not sure about it which is one thing and I kinda understand for one inexperienced in this observation...#but when I saw what they were actually describing I was like 'uh. that's not...what you think it is.' LOL 😓#but at least I get to push my 'Ringo is the best Beatle' agenda which I didn't realize I even have except that he's so easily my favorite

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devilfic · 3 years ago

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Giiiirl your Bruce Wayne series owns my whole ass being right now 😩🥵 You're doing a great job with it!! If you don't mind sharing, how did bruce learn about readers mother/what are his feelings towards it? Obvi if that's a spoiler etc it's okay not to share! And I'm a 100% interested to hear any other headcanons you have cooked up, specially about brucexreader and their dynamic 🦇

sfaksjfka thank you so much, lovely!! and I am super excited to share, thank u for asking

how did bruce learn about reader's mother? what are his feelings towards it?

so, disclaimer: I have a plan for the next two parts I've got in mind for this series and I plan to delve more into the history between bruce/reader/the reader's mother in the latter of the two, so to keep from spoiling I'll give ya just a few details

I thought about how bruce sees himself in don mitchell's son, and given how keen he is on collecting robins in the comics, I know he has a soft heart for anybody with a difficult familial situation. in relation to the reader, bruce can't help sympathizing. he lost his parents in one night to a stranger out of the blue, so he can't imagine what it's like to know your parent only has so long left but never knowing when the other shoe will drop. at the same time... he's envious.

he's not proud of it (he hates it), but he often wishes he'd been older like the reader, had seen it coming. the abruptness of losing his parents at such a young age has left him with more sorrow than room to properly grieve. seeing the reader spend time with their mother, having the time to say goodbye, really makes something ugly twist inside him. regardless, he wouldn't wish either situation on his worst enemy.

bruce/bruce x reader headcanons

in "sick day", I mentioned that bruce likes to do charcoal drawings and occasionally draws strangers. bruce also draws people he knows (like alfred, gordon, selina), but he keeps those in his sketchbook. he has a few of you in there but don't ask him how he managed to sketch you without you noticing. he is the shadows

speaking of, when he first started going out on patrol, he kept his drawing materials in his backpack along with his suit. sometimes, he'd pull over on his bike and draw when he had the time. one might've spied a hooded figure standing at a street corner hunched over a detailed drawing of a 7/11 once or twice. he has a lot of half-finished drawings due to suiting up at a moment's notice.

on the rare occasion bruce is up for breakfast (and you're there early), he might come join you, alfred, and dory to eat. occasionally, if he's in a good mood, he might even do the dishes.

bruce has a habit of looming. when you're all working in his dad's study, bruce will often lean over the back of your chair and dictate by your ear... that's when you're lucky enough to know he's there, anyway.

since he's so quiet, you regularly turn down hallways to find him just standing there, bump into him while bustling about, and frighten yourself half to death when you realize he's been standing off in some shadowy corner of the room you're in for who knows how long. alfred and dory are used to it, but you still need some time to adjust.

bruce typically refuses your help to clean him up/tend to his wounds after a rough night of patrol. it's not that he doesn't want (or need) the help, but he has a habit of pretending he isn't hurt when he is. you try not to push him, but seeing him wince in pain while trying to tough it out really frustrates you sometimes (pls yell at him to take care of himself).

in "sick day", bruce didn't immediately get up in a hurry after you both fell asleep together. he'd been mortified to know that he'd curled up to you in the night like a child, but something changed that morning. you'd stayed of your own volition, watching over him and taking care of him because you wanted to. he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a warm body to lie next to. he stayed in bed much longer (respectfully, at a distance) than he'd ever let you know.

he did eventually get up to shower. you were a saint to cut him some slack on the smell and not mention it.

you caught bruce's cold in the end, though.

while not the hands-on caretaker that you are, bruce did send a "get well soon!" card and a person to drop off meals at your apartment/run errands for you that agonizing week. he still won't tell you how much all of that cost.

#mjwrites #thank you for letting me gush about this AHHHHH #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #battinson x reader #anonymous #mjanswers

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juletheghoul · 3 years ago

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Burning Hour (Part 2)

I am so grateful at the response I've received for this fic - I have read every comment with hearts in my eyes.

I feel like the end of this will be quite surprising (Just for future chapters, this isn't the end!) so I hope you like the direction it'll go in.

Din Djarin x F!Reader (Virgin reader)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) Angst, pining, slow-burn, implied arranged marriage, talk of sexual acts, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age) Yearning, jealousy, male & female masturbation (slightly possessive)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3

---

Mr. Dameron didn’t stray too far from you as the night progressed.

He didn’t crowd you, but he hovered close enough to let you know he was there. That he was waiting for you.

Other men asked you to dance. They made conversation and flattered you, trying to get in your good graces, desperate attempts to woo you; but It was all useless. What with trying to catch Din’s eye and Mr. Dameron's piercing stare there was no room for anything else.

“How are you enjoying your night, your highness?” Mila asked tentatively, she was intuitive and you knew she could see the stress on your face as she poured you a glass of wine.

“It’s going well-” You smiled at her, placing your hand on hers to reassure her. “-just a little much, thank you sweetling.” You spoke the words to her, made the appropriate expressions but it was still a lot.

Your parents watchful eye, the heat from the candlelight illuminating every corner of the great hall. Even the dress seemed to be suffocating you.

I need a breath of fresh air.

“Princess, are you alright?” Din’s voice made you shiver, coming from behind you. Your thoughts must have been plastered all over your face to pull him from his usual place behind the throne.

“Yes Sir, just a bit overwhelmed.” You smiled at him, turning to find the place in the helmet where his eyes would be. “I believe I’ll step outside for a moment. Gather myself.” You moved to step out into the gardens and he moved to follow.

“I will accompany you.” He held out his arm and you took it, knowing there was no point in denying him.

The garden was so lovely. There were lanterns lighting the path outside. The smell of jasmine and gardenia and all of the other night-blooming flowers was heavy in the air and you could see them shining under the light of the full moon.

Your arm in his felt so right, so strong and comforting as he guided you further and further into the garden. At first you were confused but as the noises of the gathering got quieter and quieter you realized he was trying to give you peace and you were eternally thankful.

“Thank you Sir, I really needed this.” You held onto him despite the fact that you’d both stopped and he seemed tense. The kiss replayed over and over in your mind and you imagined he was thinking of it as well.

“Princess-” He turned to you, pulling his helmet off as he faced you. “You are a vision tonight. Truly beautiful, like always.” He was looking at you with a strange intensity.

“Thank you Sir. You look very handsome too, as always.” You smiled at him, watching as your hand came up almost of its own volition to gently ruffle the hair matted to his forehead.

It was exciting to have this private little moment with him but it was not to last.

“There you are Princess, I was hoping to steal you away from the crowd - seems your knight has made it easier for me.” Mr. Dameron was striding towards the two of you, his squire in tow. You felt Din tense up and you lowered your hand as he quickly put the helmet back on. It shamed you slightly at how your heart soared to hear him refer to Din as ‘your knight’ - you tucked the thought away.

“Yes, here I am.” You responded in mock happiness.

“Would you be so kind as to walk with me? Accompanied of course.” He looked over at Din as he held his arm out to you and you sighed quietly as you accepted it. “I know I’ve already told you, but you are lovely. The moonlight adorns you.” He spoke as he led you through the grounds.

Din and and the squire following slightly behind the both of you and it was as if you could almost feel him - a wave of nervous energy shadowing you both.

“Thank you Sir, you flatter me.” You let him guide you towards the fountains in the middle of the gardens

“I am honest, to a fault some would say.” He laughed, plucking a flower from a large bush and putting it into the crown sitting on your head. “Perfect.” He smiled as he stared down at you.

“I want to exercise that honesty now Princess. My plans with you are simple, to join our houses in marriage. I know there are a lot of young men in there right now planning on how to win your hand for reasons of money, or power - political matches or what have you. They don’t worry me, nor do they threaten me. I believe you’ll come to see that we are a perfect match.” He lifted your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

You worried for a moment that he would be bolder than you were comfortable with and apparently so did Din because you saw him shift slowly towards you, ready to step in at any sign of impropriety but it was unnecessary.

Mr. Dameron was a gentleman, letting your hand go to wait for your response.

“I thank you for your honesty, I trust you won’t be surprised to hear that I’m not impressed.” You decided to be just as truthful in your answer. He laughed, unperturbed.

“Of course not, I would be quite upset if you were to believe me so readily. I plan on proving myself.” He offered his arm again to lead you back. “I understand that I won’t be the only one promising you the world.” You thought you heard Din scoff but you couldn’t be sure.

“I suppose this is when you try to convince me that you are the only man here truly worthy of me?” You said the words playfully, but there was truth in them nonetheless.

“Oh no Princess, far from it. I believe a lot of men here are far more worthy of you than me, but what I can promise is no one here will fight harder.” He winked at you as he led you back inside, towards the King and you had to admit - he was very charming.

“Your highness-” He bowed to him and your father smiled, happy to see you on his arm.

“Poe Dameron! It pleases me greatly to see you here my boy.” Your father wasn’t making his approval of the idea of this union very subtle. He was smiling, happy to bask in your fathers attention.

“I am happy to be here, your highness; excited to have the chance to prove myself to your lovely daughter. I trust before the month is out, we will have very happy news to share.” He bowed again, leaving your father laughing as he led you back out for his final dance.

“You are quite confident I’ll pick you in the end.” You spoke as he held you close. You could see the resigned look on the faces of the other suitors in the great hall. Imagining they didn’t have a chance now that Poe had staked his claim. They were only half-right. They never stood a chance, but it had nothing to do with Poe.

“I am. I believe that you’ll come to see that we make sense, we could accomplish so much - make this place truly great. the two of us together could do so much good; we could help those that aren’t as fortunate.” He spoke with an optimism that was almost endearing and it pulled a genuine smile out of you. “You look even lovelier when the smile is honest. Your eyes light up.” He said the words not unkindly and you were taken aback. He laughed - happy despite the implications.

“I can always tell when a woman is humouring me for the sake of courtesy, I must be doing something right however if I managed to get a real smile. I hope that before long, you will gift me with many more.” The dance ended then, and he was less obvious about the kiss to your fingers. This too had an air of honesty, done because he wanted to and not as an obvious show of his intentions.

“And I can see that I have managed to extract genuine affection from you Mr. Dameron.” He smiled, brilliant white teeth on display as he led you over to the royal dais. Leaving you with nothing but a smirk as his squire led him out of the great hall.

---

His knuckles were bone-white from gripping his great-sword. He thought he was prepared - this had been in the works for weeks but it hit him hard all the same. She was jewel-bright in her fresh-faced beauty. Young and full of life, radiant as the sun and everyone flocked to her; he hated it.

He hated the confidence with which this man approached her. Hated the thoughts he could see plainly on his face as he boldly devoured her with his eyes.

Gisela found him as she poured for the King, recognizing him despite the suit and giving him a shy smile - hoping no doubt, that he’d call on her tonight. Perhaps he should - but his feelings for the Princess poisoned him for Gisela and the look on her face compounded the fact that this would be cruel. He didn’t want to lie to the girl. Better to cut it off now - before any more damage could be done.

He watched the Princess as she gave Dameron a blinding smile and his blood ran cold. A dark, unexplored part of his mind ran rampant, urging him to pull her away. Hide her like a dragon would hide a hoard of gold and he shook himself out of it.

What is wrong with you? She doesn’t belong to you - no matter how bad you want her.

He had to keep reminding himself of this, had to shut down those dark thoughts of ripping her dress off, of burying himself in her body - molding her to accept only him. Try as he might, however the thoughts wouldn’t stop. He was going to do something he’d regret, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

---

The halls were quiet as you made your way to your rooms, Mila had gone ahead of you to light the fire in the hearth and you were happy to have a few minutes to yourself.

“Princess.” His voice sounded just ahead of you down the hallway that led towards the kitchens. He stepped out and your stomach lurched to see him there, waiting for you.

“Yes - are you here to accompany me?” You walked closer, reaching the mouth of the hallway where he stood.

“I wanted to give you something, a gift of sorts.” He stepped closer, his hand outstretched towards you and you smiled wide, taking it.

“What gift do you have for me Sir?” You were giddy with excitement as he led you back the way you came, towards the gardens.

“It’s not something you can hold.” He led you deep into the garden, where the high flower bushes and shrubbery hid you both away from prying eyes.

He turned to you as he took off the helmet and placed it reverently beside you on the ground. He then took off the gloves and It thrilled you, his hand were large and strong, surprisingly soft as they touched your bare shoulder.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he brought himself closer to you, making you crane your neck up to meet his eyes. They were so dark, inky black with the moon floating in them.

“You said before, when we went on that ride - that I was your first kiss.” He stepped closer, making your heart race. “Seems I was unprepared and it pains me for you to remember that as your first. I’d like to correct that now with your permission. May I kiss you Princess?” He was close now - his mouth inches from yours and you nodded breathlessly.

It was exceedingly soft, at first. His lips brushed against yours as he brought his hands up to cradle your face. You braced your palms on his chest and the kiss was quick; chaste and sweet and when he pulled away he spoke into your mouth.

“That was innocent.” He breathed the words against your lips, pressing another soft, quick kiss to them. “Can I kiss you like I want to?” He watched your mouth and smiled slightly when you gave him a soft yes.

“I’m going to open my mouth slightly and trap your bottom lip between mine, like this.” He showed you, opening his mouth slowly to deepen the kiss and it made your heart race.

“That’s good, you’re doing really well, my lovely one.” He repeated the action, pulling a little whimper out of your mouth. “Now, I’m going to do it again - and when I do, I’m going to use my tongue. Would you like that?” He waited, one hand leaving your face to glide down to your waist, pressing you closer - against the cool beskar covering his body.

“Yes, tell me what to do.” There was an ache between your thighs that almost hurt and you felt the current of your excitement in your breasts; wherever his hands were on your body. Your lips tingled, waiting for him to kiss you again.

“You’re going to press your tongue against mine. I’ll start slow, follow my lead.” He waited for you to nod and when you did he began, a combination of everything put together. First it was the chaste kiss, pressing his mouth against yours softly then he opened his mouth slightly. Trapping your bottom lip, then your top one, letting you get used to the feeling of it before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You followed his lead, tentatively opening your mouth wider to press your tongue against his and he responded with a groan. His hand tightening around your waist as you learned the rhythm. Your hands move of their own accord and you tangle them in his hair, pressing yourself closer still as he becomes a little more forceful, his tongue licking into your mouth with more confidence.

His mouth slanted, licking deeper - fitting together like the missing pieces of a puzzle. His kisses were lighting a fire in your belly and you never knew anyone could excite you this way.

Too soon however, he pulled away. Placing a couple more kisses on your face, one last one on your forehead. He said nothing after, picking his helmet back up and putting it on before he led you back towards your room. You followed him in a daze, your lips and nipples tingling - a familiar dampness soaking your undergarments and when you reached your room the mood had shifted. From an excited happiness, to a sad realization that the night must indeed end.

“I wish you the happiest of name-days Princess.” His voice was a velvet rasp as he opened your door for you, guiding you inside and closing it before you could respond.

You could still feel it when you got undressed, slipping into your bed quietly and closing the curtains around it to hide from Mila, not wanting her to see you.

You saw the dampness on your undergarments and yet when you tentatively dipped your fingers between your thighs it shocked you. The slick practically dripped out and you couldn’t help but explore, feel the slippery glide of your fingers between your folds until you found the bundle of nerves that begged for attention.

Careful to keep your mouth shut, you spread your legs wider, looking for the rhythm that would help relieve the ache he’d caused you and when you found it you had to bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

I wish you could kiss me now Din, I wish you could touch me like this.

The thoughts came unbidden and the pleasure was building, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of an abyss you were desperate to dive into. Your other hand pinched at your nipple and it was pure bliss, that dark pit swallowing you whole as your body stiffened for a moment, his name whispered in the dark between panting breaths.

-----

He felt her lips on his as he stroked himself. Felt her enthusiasm for his kiss as the angry red tip of his cock wept pearly tears of precum. Felt her delicate fingers threading through his hair as he moaned, twisting his wrist just right. She had tasted so sweet and his mind conjured up the image of her pink little tongue on his cock, her pretty lips stretched around him as he thrust into it - down her throat.

A moan escaped him and his mind was racing, giving him glimpses of what he thought it might be like to spread her pretty thighs, to find her wet and aching for his tongue and it was too much, he spilled all over his stomach with her name in his mouth.

His cock had never been so hard, it reminded him of when he was transitioning into adulthood. Brought forth memories of the nights he’d wake up covered in his own seed and it shamed him to imagine her when he rut into his hand like an animal.

It couldn’t be helped though, her mouth - her tongue had lit a fire in his loins and he’d practically run back to his rooms to relieve himself. He pushed away the guilty feeling, letting himself imagine all of the filthy things he’d do to her if she let him, at least for tonight.

---

You hoped to get another minute alone with Din after the celebration but it seemed as though everything and everyone was conspiring against you. Your father had taken Din with him as he travelled to a far region of the Kingdom, your knight accompanying him to keep him safe as he fulfilled his royal duties.

It was miserable.

Your eyes kept roving and it was as if you expected to see him in his usual place, but your eyes never found him there. You knew this and yet you couldn’t stop the sadness from creeping in every time the space was devoid of him.

He will be back soon.

Your mind repeated the words over and over like a prayer, hoping the emptiness you felt at his absence wouldn’t show on your features and for the most part no one could tell. Your mother and father usually wore masks at every second, prim and proper; regal always.

Mila wasn’t fooled however, you felt her lingering stares, felt her hand settle on top of yours when you were lost in thoughts of him. Her eyes were sharp, her mind quick.

“Your highness, are you well?” The question finally came from her a few days later, as she helped you dress for the day. The placating response was on the tip of your tongue, the usual - yes of course in response to her worry but it wasn’t in you to lie. Her eyes found yours in your silver looking glass and she surprised you again.

“You miss him.” She didn’t ask and the shock was plain on your face. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, you’ve been looking for him since he left.” She gave you a sad smile and you wondered briefly if anyone else knew.

“Yes. I miss him terribly.” There was a furrow in your brow, worried now at the thought of your feelings being known. “I would ask you not to tell anyone sweetling.” You gave her a serious look and she nodded smiling.

“Of course not your highness, it will stay between us.” She was tightening the laces of your corset as another serving girl knocked on the door, there was a visitor for you.

—

He was standing in the large receiving room when you arrived, just beside the large window with his squire in tow.

“Mr. Dameron,” His face broke into a big warm smile as he turned to face you, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked as he bowed, kissing your hand before he stood at his full height.

“Princess, you look lovely as ever.” He was looking you over as spoke. “I have brought you a gift. I would ask that you accompany me outside.” He held out his arm to you.

“A gift?” You took his arm, tilting your head up at him and you couldn’t help but smirk. “I pray you aren’t trying to buy my affection, I would be very disappointed if you were.” He laughed, he was in good spirits and you could tell he was excited to present you with whatever it was he had brought.

Poe, if you brought me jewels I’ll be very upset.

“Well, I am of the firm belief that everyone likes gifts-” He led you out to where there was a wooden box with a big red bow. Far too large to be jewels and your curiosity was piqued. “-I think you will be happy with what I’ve brought.” He led you to the crate, pausing for a moment before opening it up.

You squealed indignantly at the little face that greeted you - it was an energetic puppy which stood up on its hind legs, begging you to let it out and you wasted no time in picking it up.

“Poe! Who is this gorgeous little creature?” All decorum was forgotten when it licked at your cheek.

“I thought I’d leave the naming to you Princess, one of my favourite dogs had a litter and I thought you must have one. It’s a girl.” He reached over as you cradled her little body close to your chest and scratched behind her ear.” He was smiling at you, genuine delight and a touch of smugness in his eyes.

“Oh but you are a beauty!” You couldn’t help but coo at her and you felt her wriggling with excitement. Her fur was so soft, white in colour and you couldn’t help but fall in love with her instantly.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the breed but I believe they call them golden retrievers, she happens to be on the blonder side.” He spoke in a low voice as you smiled broadly, biting your lip as possible names raced through your mind.

“Thank you Poe- Mr. Dameron.” In your delight, you’d called him by his first name but he held his hands up, placating.

“Please, I am happy to hear you call me by my name, I would ask you to call me Poe always.” He inclined his head a fraction and your smile returned.

“Thank you Poe - this is a lovely gift. I am already in love with her.” You put her down on the ground and she ran around, playing in the grass. “I must confess, I was afraid you had brought me jewels, it would have disappointed me greatly.” You laughed as the puppy bit at the fabric of your dress, moving from you to him.

“I know better than to try to tempt you with trinkets.” He crouched down to play with the dog - she was a happy little thing. “I know that if I were to show up here with diamonds or rubies that you’d never see me as a potential suitor.” He was smiling up at you as the dog playfully bit at his fingers.

“This puppy is better than all that-” You smiled, kneeling down to stroke her fur. “Calling her Ruby seems appropriate. My little gem.”

---

It was hard for him not to race back to the castle once he saw it in the horizon early on the morning they were heading back. At the pace they were travelling they would reach it by mid-day; it may as well take a fortnight.

He had wanted a moment with her after, whether it was to kiss her again or to tell her it could go no further he’ll never know, all he could say for sure was that he had missed her with every fibre of his being. The King had summoned him early the next day however, giving him no chance to see her or to say goodbye.

He missed seeing her each day, missed the smell of her hair when she’d hold onto his arm.

He missed the taste of her tongue.

His gloved hand kept returning to the hidden pocket at his waist for the small gift he’d found for her, it wasn’t much but he was itching to give it to her. He just hoped she’d be happy to see him.

He rushed to clean himself off, to bathe the sweat and grime from the weeks-long trip across the country; wanted her to see him clean and presentable.

He heard her laughing, a tinkling sound coming from the gardens and he had to stop himself from running. She was sitting at a table in the gardens drinking tea, a radiant patch of sun shining her light on all within her company but she wasn’t alone. Her hand-maiden was there, along with guards, and Poe Dameron. He stopped in his tracks momentarily until Poe noticed him.

“Ah, look Princess, your knight has returned.” He was smiling as he caught sight of him and he had no choice but to continue his way towards them. A small white dog came bounding towards him, a red ribbon tied around its neck. His princess stood with a smile and made her way over to him and the look on her face almost knocked him off his feet.

“Hello Sir, I’m so happy to have you back.” She spoke low as she bent down to pick up the dog.

“Hello Princess, I am happy to be back but it seems you are busy.” He tried to keep the jealous tone out of his words but her eyebrows raised at him and she smiled.

“Princess- I have kept you long enough. I believe your father will want to visit with you after being away for so long. I trust I am leaving you in very capable hands-” He kissed the back of her hand before softly petting the dog in her arms, turning to Din after and inclining his head.”-Sir.” He nodded at Din before making his way out.

“Who’s this?” Din asked even though he could guess.

“This is Ruby, isn’t she a darling? Poe gave her to me.” The dog was happily licking at her cheek, an energetic little thing.

“I see.” He couldn’t say more, the guards were all around and her handmaiden was watching them. Suddenly, the small gift he’d been so eager to present her with seemed tawdry and insignificant. She put the dog down and smiled up at him, sensing his mood despite the helmet.

“Din, you have no notion of how much I have missed you-” She captured his arm and urged him to escort her inside the castle. Her handmaiden picked up the dog and followed without a word. “-Meet me in the garden tonight. I wish to greet you properly.” His heart soared, and fell all at once - was this to be their future? Were all of their conversations to be held in private while she entertained Poe in the open?

“Yes Princess.” He couldn’t deny her, even though he should.

---

You found him standing in the same place as before and seeing his armour glinting in the dark almost made the long hours between Poe’s departure and now worth it; especially as he turned to you with his helmet in his hands.

You made your way over to him quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to feel his warmth against you and it was as though you melted. He seemed a little tense at first but he responded in kind after a moment, his helmet thumping in the grass at your feet. You felt him clutching at something.

“It might not be much, but I have brought you a present.” He spoke low, and reluctantly you pulled away.

You looked down to his open palm between you and it was a small metal flower. A simple thing, and he seemed almost embarrassed by it but it was lovely.

“It’s made of the same metal as my armour, beskar - I know it’s not much-” He held it out to you and you took it from him. “-but I thought you might like a flower that will last forever.”

The thought that he put into this gift almost brought a tear to your eye. It was so simple, so elegant - and best of all, it was as he he'd given you a part of himself. A little piece of him to hold onto, wherever you went.

“I will treasure it always- it is a lovely, thoughtful gift.” You took it from him, carefully placing it within the little pocket sewn into your dress. You looked up at him then and surged up to kiss him, remembering his lesson from before and he groaned into your mouth. You were eager though and you didn’t go as slow as he did, instead you were quick to lick at the seam of his mouth and he granted you access.

It was better than you remembered, he tasted of sweet summer fruit and his hands came up quickly to cradle your face once more. He kissed you for a long time before pulling away.

“I missed you Din, I missed you so much.” You pressed yourself against him tightly, it was as if you couldn’t get close enough and he matched your intensity, burying his face into your hair, smelling your skin for a moment before he pulled away.

“I missed you too, you cannot imagine how much.” He tucked you into his chest, your face pressed up against the tawny skin of his neck; his arms wrapped around you tightly. You realized then, as you breathed in the clean scent of him, that despite being back for months - this is the first time you’ve truly felt like you’re home. The urge struck you to kiss him there, on his neck and you did so.

“We cannot stay out here forever Princess, we must depart, before someone sees us.” He spoke low, a whisper in your ear but you heard the words beneath, his real meaning - this cannot continue.

“Just a few moments more, please.” You kissed his jaw and he sighed, giving you his mouth - his tongue again and something clicked in the back of your mind then. You realized in that moment that he’d do whatever you wanted, all you had to do was ask.

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

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Some tags don't work and I don't know what to do!

#burning hour #din djarin au #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian x f!reader #din x you #din djarin #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction

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malphantasias · 2 years ago

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I'm too weak-hearted and have too-strong opinions im just gonna say it

I feel like bursting into flames whenever i read anything even remotely relating to grian using bigb to forget/distance himself from scar. I CANT... I HATE IT (/LH)

DESSERT DUO ENJOYERS BEFORE YOU BURN ME JUST WAIT A MOMENT OKAY PLEASE

Well actually desert duo enjoyers I am 100% gonna do some carefree desert duo dunking to prove my point, even if my point turns up to be nothing ♡

----

I'm just able to do surface level analysis but still.

Grian came forward and BigB reciprocated. They exchanged hearts!! A lil warped on the cookie side but still!!

What does desert duo have? Sure, they have a complex and intricating web of stories through all the three seasons of the Life Smp plus the Hardcore series for those who want that extra flair. And sure, their story is absolutely heartwrenching and fun to interpret, especially since they're silly block men

BUT, you know what desert duo doesn't have!

The commitment without obligation!

3rd Life, Grian only initially partnered with Scar out of obligation as payment for his prank gone wrong! Sure, after Grian lost his first life he still stuck with Scar even through the no-kill-pass betrayal....

LAST LIFE. I havent actually watched their povs but im 90% sure grian scammed Scar of a heart and then just chilled with the southlanders until that went up into flames! No reason for commitment, therefore, went on his own!!

And now DOUBLE LIFE. Commited with Scar for the reason that they both with simply perish if one mistake occurs!

Grian already puts a lot of commitment into Scar!! They make each other worse and I love that for them!!! BUT SOMETHING ABOUT GRIAN CHOOSING TO LOVE SOMEONE ELSE, OUT OF HIS OWN VOLITION AND NOT BECAUSE THE UNIVERSE THOUGHT "THIS IS HOW IT MUST BE" FOR HIM REALLY GETS ME GOING.

It reminds me of when everyone made the parallels with grian and scott. Scott broke the rules and grian followed them. Except this time, Grian chose to bend them. He chose to bypass it. For BigB!

How can you be loving the wrong person when it feels so right? When they love you back just as much? You don't need history with someone to love them. You don't have to be complicated either.

Sometimes, you just love and be loved.

#double life smp #dlsmp #double life smp spoilers #dl smp #double life bigb #double life grian #desert duo #double life secret soulmates #my motto has always been to be careful of posting opinions on the internet and yet here i am. posting my opinion #THIS IS ALL /LH IM NOT TRYING TO START DISCOURSE OR ANYTHING YKNOW #i just think secret soulmates deserve more credit!!!!#i still love desert duo with all my heart btw ITS JUST THOSE ANALYSIS AND FICS THAT MAKES ME :( LMAO

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galacticgraffiti · 3 years ago

Text

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Veman'alor (10) ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

!!! NSFW/18+ !!!

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 4.6k CW: cockwarming, oral as prep (f receiving), light choking, tits are being slapped, orgasm denial and Boba is a mean shit about it, edging, i don't think it need to reiterate the praise kink or dom/sub dynamic at this point but i will, sweet sweet aftercare, awkwardness with Din

Series Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ Taglist Signup

Read the companion piece from Din's perspective (WIP)

🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · 🙦

Chapter 10 - Invitations, Additions

Up in your apartment, Boba hesitantly releases you.

„Business first,“ he says when you pout.

„Ugh, fine,“ you agree. „I’ll make some tea.“

While you busy yourself in the kitchen, Boba wanders around the room, then stops next to the sofa to shed his armour. You watch him as he peels off the braces and carefully stacks them all on the floor like he has done a million times before.

„Hey,“ you call out from the kitchen, „How come I have never been up on your floor?“

„Hmm. I’m not sure. To be honest, there’s not much difference to this one. I have some… trophies, but other than that, the layout is the same. I didn’t think it would interest you.“

„Everything about you interests me.“

Boba chuckles and sits down on the sofa. „You wouldn’t say that if you knew everything about me.“

„Well, no. Because then I’d already know everything about you, you see?“ you tease him as you set the cup down in front of him.

„I mean… you don’t want to know all the things I have done.” Boba sounds wary. “I am not a good man, cyare.“

„I know. Maybe you weren’t in the past, I have heard the stories, you know? But you are different now, and even if you can’t forget your past, you can accept it.“

He regards you with amusement.

„Barely half my age, but already so wise, little one.“

You grin and shove his arm to the side to sit in his lap.

„I’m very wise, old man. You should listen to me more often.“

Boba laughs softly and pulls you closer to him. Your hips move of their own volition, rolling into him before you can stop yourself.

„Careful, princess. I still give the orders around here.“

You place little open-mouthed kisses along his neck and he inhales sharply.

„And that’s the way I like it,“ you whisper into his ear.

You can feel him slowly growing harder beneath you and you have to remind yourself that you still have to talk to him about Kuat, even if you really, really don’t want to stop. Already lamenting the decision, you try to slide off his lap, but Boba’s hands grip you like a vice and hold you where you are.

„You know what I think would make our conversation about Kuat more bearable for me?“ Boba murmurs and his tone piques your interest. He brings his hands up to cup your tits and you lean into his touch, the friction delicious even through the thick fabric of your overalls.

„What?“

His mouth moves against the shell of your ear and you shudder.

„If you sat on my cock while we talk.“

Your eyes go wide and your heart rate picks up. A wave of arousal sweeps through you and you can already feel yourself getting wet at the thought of taking him, being filled up by him while he teases you and makes you talk about your day.

„Yes! Yes,“ you agree enthusiastically and Boba grins.

„Why don’t you undress for me, princess?“

You scramble off his lap and rip open your overall, impatiently tugging on it until you can step out of it, leaving you just in your undershirt. Boba leans back, spreads his legs and places his arms on the backrest of the couch.

„The shirt too, cyar’ika,“ he instructs and you hastily pull your shirt off, then your underwear before you rush over to straddle his lap again.

„Osik, you’re always so eager,“ he smirks and you just shrug.

„Can you blame me? You’re fucking beautiful.“

Boba’s smile flickers for a second and he sighs.

„No one ever calls me that except you, cyar’ika.“

„That’s because no one else gets to see your face,“ you reply and he raises an eyebrow.

„Hm,“ he grumbles and you laugh.

„I’m right, you just don’t wanna admit it. If people knew how pretty you were, you would lose your intimidation factor, baby.“

Quicker than you can react, his hand wraps around your throat and you bite your tongue.

„Don’t get carried away, girl. I still owe you punishment later, you wanna add to that?“

You tilt your head.

„Maybe I do, Sir?“

„Trust me, you don’t,“ he growls and your cunt pulses. „You think you’re ready for me, cyare?“

You want to answer yes, you really do, but you know that would not be true. The soreness from last time he fucked you with no prep would have lasted days, you’re sure, if not for the bacta Fennec injected to heal your face. So you shake your head and Boba grins smugly.

„Good girl, learning your own limits. You want my hands or my mouth to open you up?“

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about it, assuming he would use his fingers, but if he offers like that…

„Your mouth, Sir, please,“ you answer, and you sound more desperate than you like. Boba lifts you off his lap where a wet spot has already formed on the fabric of his trousers, and places you on the couch next to him.

„Lay back for me, mesh’la,“ he orders and you comply. Kneeling in front of you, he pries your legs open and throws them over his broad shoulders. The first slide of his hot tongue through your throbbing cunt is heaven, and your eyes roll back in your head at the contact as you moan out and dig your heels into his back.

„More!“ you wheeze. „Please-“

Boba hums into you and your muscles tighten at the slight vibrations that ripple through your body. He licks and sucks at your clit, and the wet sounds of his mouth against you, amplified by the high ceilings of the room, leave you breathless, making it so much more filthy than it already is.

„Fuck,“ you curse when Boba slides his hands under your ass and grabs onto you to hold you still when you want nothing more than to buck up into him.

„Hmm, like I said, sweetest pussy in the entire galaxy,“ he murmurs and you feel your muscles contract at his words, more slick flooding your cunt. When Boba finally pushes his tongue inside you, you go cross-eyed, and when his nose bumps into your clit, you see stars. The intrusion of his tongue feels even more intimate than you remember and your cheeks burn at the obscene sounds his mouth produces as he eats you out like he never wants to do anything else.

„Fuck, could do this for hours,“ he sighs, taking a break for some air before he sinks his tongue back into you. You writhe underneath him as he takes you apart, but all too soon he replaces his tongue with two fingers sliding in and out of you while his mouth wanders back to your clit. „I gotta get you ready for me, stretch that tight pussy out a little so you can take my cock…“

You moan in affirmation when the pleasure starts to build up, your core tightening, and your legs begin to shake. Just as you think your orgasm will hit you, when you are right at the edge of it, the tight coil in your stomach ready to snap – Boba stops. You cry out and push yourself up on your elbows to glare at him.

He smiles up at you nonchalantly, his chin drenched in spit and your slick.

„You know the rules, little one. Only good girls get rewarded. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet, you can consider this part of your punishment.“

You huff in frustration as Boba sits down again and pats his lap, cock straining against the black material of his trousers. He watches you as he pushes down the waistband of his pants, stroking his cock and your mouth waters. You glare at him one last time, but he ignores it, so you sigh. You don’t have it in you to pretend you do not want this. You clamber into his lap, straddling his thighs so you have some leverage to push yourself up. Boba’s hands firmly grip your waist as you slowly sink down on him, the girth of him still a stretch, but not painful.

When he’s fully seated inside you, you gently rock your hips against him, but Boba’s grip stops you.

„I said sit there, not ride me, cyar’ika. We still have something to talk about, or have you forgotten?“

Actually, you kinda had forgotten. Or at least you were hoping he had.

„So what, you want me to just sit there and do nothing while I tell you about my day?“ you mutter, doing your best to sound pissed off even though the thought is insanely hot to you.

„Yes,“ he says without batting an eye. You swallow hard and he continues. „I want you to st there and hold my cock in your pretty little cunt until you are desperate for me to fuck you. I want you to take it and sit still and tell me all about your day, while all you can think about is me filling you up, mesh’la. I’m gonna make it so good for you if you do that. Be a good girl for me, princess… and you better not leave anything out just to hurry this up. I will know.“

You don’t doubt he will, but right now it is hard to even remember what you wanted to talk about in the first place. You look down at where the two of you are connected and moan quietly. Fuck. Boba tilts your chin up until you look at him and raises an eyebrow. Right, you are supposed to talk about Kuat.

„So, I called Kuat of Kuat today,“ you begin and Boba nods seriously. „I had… some parts I needed to order for a podracer I want to build…“

Kriff, this is harder than you thought it would be. It is difficult to focus when you can feel him twitching inside you, the tension palpable in the air. Boba regards you calmly while you squirm in his lap and try not to move, even though the beat of your heart is reverberating throughout your entire body.

„I… I ordered the parts and Kuat suggested that he could ask around… gauge the general interest in Boonta E-eve. He supplies a lot of people with parts, there are b-bound to be some racers among them, right? I thought that was… very h-helpful of him and-“

You cut yourself off when Boba suddenly leans forward and circles his tongue around your hardened nipple.

„Fuck, I-“

„Keep going, cyar’ika,“ he orders calmly, then closes his lips around the sensitive skin again and sucks. A sharp wave of pleasure errupts through you and you feel your core tightening. Boba shifts underneath you, but otherwise gives no indication anything has changed, while you are sure you’re fucking dripping around him. His mouth never leaves you, he licks and sucks little lovebites into the tender skin of your breasts, each of them sending sparks through your body. You moan and feel your eyes slip shut, but then a sharp sting of pleasure suddenly hits you and you hiss, your cunt fluttering around Boba’s cock.

„Did you just- did you just slap my tits?“

Boba smirks up at you and licks a soothing strip over your your breast until you shiver when the cool air hits it.

„I thought you needed some encouragement to go on, princess. And look at me while we speak. I won’t ask again.“

You try desperately to gather your thoughts and get to the point.

„K-Kuat said he’d also look through his archives… to maybe find a ship for D-Din. I thought if anyone would know about some extant pre-imperial ships, it would be h-him… or at least someone he knows.“

Boba’s hips thrust shallowly up into you, just the slightest bit and barely noticeable if you were not so desperate for friction. His mouth is still on you, hot and wet and trailing kisses all over your skin. Before he can scold you again you hastily go on.

„And then he- he… I mean, I said I w-wanted to build a trade relationship based on r-respect rather than fear… because I could tell he was still scared of you-“

Boba’s cock twitches inside you and you exhale shakily. Fuck, you feel so full, why is it so delicious to just sit here like this, even if nothing is happening? It’s the feeling of him, the physical connection that runs so deep while you just talk, the fact that he is forcing you to sit still when you want nothing more than to move against him. Your denied orgasm still sits deep in your bones and you are becoming more and more desperate to chase your pleasure. Boba’s self-control through all this only makes it hotter.

„But th-then he suggested that I… that my presence ‚tempers‘ you and-“

Finally, Boba’s mouth leaves your tits so he can stare at you with knitted brows.

„And what did you answer, princess?“

„I s-said that if he ever doubted your rule again h-he would lose my support and our business.“

Suddenly, Boba grinds up against you and his cock hits just right, against the sweet spot deep inside you and you gasp out his name.

„Good girl,“ he praises, „Ori’jate, a good answer, you did so well.“

You smile proudly at his words, then he snaps his hips up again and your eyes roll back in your head as your mouth hangs open.

„You want me to fuck you, sweet girl?“

„Yes!“ you cry out, „Fuck, Boba, please, you feel so good, I-“

You roll your hips against him and he buries his face in your neck, leaving marks there that have you moaning around him as he fucks up into you. Faster than you thought you would, you feel yourself approaching your orgasm, but you need something more, it’s not quite enough, just keeping you right on the edge without pushing you over. Boba groans underneath you. His hand comes down on your ass and you yelp, your pussy fluttering around him. He speeds up, and this time he doesn’t even ask before he spills inside you. Instead of rocking into you afterwards though, like he usually does, he is quick to lift you off his lap and you protest.

„Oh, cyar’ika, you didn’t come? Too bad for you,“ he smirks and gets up. His cum leaks out of you and onto the fabric of your sofa, but you just sit there, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened.

„But I-“

„I told you you would get punished for interrupting my business this afternoon,“ Boba looks down at you and tilts your chin up. „And I haven’t even gotten started yet.“

*****

Boba takes you apart for hours after he carries you to your bed, bringing you close to the edge with his fingers, his mouth, his cock, but always pulling back right when you get ready for your pleasure to spill over. You wait for him to slip up, to miscalculate, but he never does and you are getting more and more frustrated every time. He fucks you so slowly and deeply that it takes eternities for your orgasm to build up, the journey there almost as good as the conclusion would be, but it’s never quite enough. He lets you calm down in between sessions, rubbing your back, peppering kisses all over your skin, letting you sit in his lap and sliding his tongue against yours until you’re almost sure you can coax him into giving you at least one orgasm, just one tiny little one, but then he starts all over again. Boba is nothing if not a patient man, at least when it comes to this.

You can’t decide if you like this better or worse than the simple spanking from your first punishment. It is torturous, that’s for sure, but it also brings you so much pleasure that you almost don’t mind. Not once does he ask you to get him off in return, but every time he finally slides his cock into your fluttering cunt, it never takes long for him to come. You’re filled up and fucked out, your brain fuzzy and unfocused and not even trying to reach orgasm anymore when Boba finally relents.

„Beg me for it one more time, ad’ika,“ he whispers as he slowly fucks into you with your heels pulling him impossibly deeper every time. You almost can’t speak anymore, your throat raw from all the cries and moans, the begging and the cursing every time he pulled back.

„Please, Sir,“ is all you can press out, and then his mouth is on your tits and his thumb presses against your clit while you’re being split open by his cock. Suddenly, it all becomes too much, and just like that, after hours of enduring this torturous pleasure, you finally tip over, your orgasm so deep and thorough that you just stop thinking for a while, blissed out and absolutely exhausted while the aftershocks of your ecstasy ripple through you.

When you feel able to open your eyes again, Boba is hovering over you and he looks so proud you think you almost come again.

„You did so good for me, cyar’ika,“ he says warmly and your lips form an automatic smile while your brain is still empty. He laughs at you, „Oh, look at you, all cockdumb, did I finally manage to close that cocky mouth of yours?“

You’re too tired to come up with a witty answer, so you just pull him closer and nod into his chest. His shoulders shake in silent laughter as he strokes your hair.

„Don’t fall asleep quite yet, sweet girl, we need to get you cleaned up. Come on.“ You feel his warmth leave you, then strong arms lift you up and carry you to the bathroom. He sits you down at the edge of the tub while it fills up, then places you in the warm water. You wince a little as the liquid hits the sore, puffy flesh of your cunt and Boba shushes you.

„I know,“ he murmurs, „I know, but it’s better we do this now. You want me to get you some bacta, mesh’la?“

You manage to shake your head.

„Wanna feel you tomorrow,“ you mutter, halfway asleep, and Boba smiles.

„That’s my good girl.“

He washes you, rubs you dry with a towel and carries you back to bed. The last thing you feel is his heavy arm enveloping you as you glide off into your dreams.

*****

When you wake up, Boba is gone. There is a note on a piece of flimsy on your bedside table and you squint to read it as you lumber over to the kitchen to get some caf started.

‚Had business to attend to. Will get you from the Slave in the afternoon. Have fun with Djarin – I mean that.‘

You smile and pocket the note. When you check your chrono and realise it is after noon already, you panick for a second. You know that Boba won’t be mad, he let you sleep in on purpose. But Din is probably waiting and has been for hours.

You throw on a fresh undershirt and pick out your overalls for the day – your selection of those is endless, and today’s choice is dark grey with your name stitched one of the front pockets. You try not to think about the fact that the colour almost matches Din’s armour before the elevator doors slide shut behind you. Just a coincidence.

When you step into the courtyard, you can hear clanging and general kerfuffle. You try to locate it and almost lose your shit when you see a stranger crawling along the right wing of the Slave I. Drawing your vibroblade from your boot, you carefully approach the ship.

„Hey!“ you scream, „What are you doing?“

„Me’bana, sarad’ika,“ the stranger calls out, his voice oddly familiar, and when you get closer, you can see the sun reflect in Din’s helmet as he slides down the side of the ship. He’s not decked out in full armour today, instead wearing something close to your overalls. You stare, mesmerised by the sliver of skin that’s showing where the collar of his shirt meets his neck, not quite high enough to reach the helmet. Other than that, he is still fully covered, gloves, helmet and all. But that tiny show of skin distracts you. You shake your head as you try and sort yourself out.

„What were you doing up there?“

„I said I could do more than hold your toolbox,“ he answers. „I started fixing the hyperdrive when you didn’t show.“

Oh Stars-

„Din, you didn’t have to do that. I’m so sorry, I was… tired.“

„Are you sick?“ he asks and he sounds so worried you have to stifle a laugh.

„No. I just- I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.“

He doesn’t answer and you can’t guess if it is because he has figured out what you mean, or because he doesn’t know what else to say. Maybe both.

„Anyways… let’s get to it. Show me what you did to the hyperdrive,“ you say and climb up into the ship to crawl onto the wing as Din follows you. You crouch down where Din has ripped the cover panel off, the space just enough for two people to kneel beside each other and work without sliding off the side.

There is not much conversation going on after Din explains his fixes and points them out. You are pretty impressed with what he has put together so far, only some minor adjustments are required, and once you get to working again, Din is a silent companion like he always has been, handing you tools, welding what you point out, working on his side of the wing after you explain what you would like him to do. It is a comfortable silence, and a comfortable way to work. When the twin suns set behind the the roof of the arcades, you think Boba will come to get you soon. Before he does, you need to tell Din sorry. It should be Boba apologising and you will speak to him about it later, but for now, your apology will have to do.

„Listen, Din,“ you say and he stops welding for a second to turn around and face you. „I am sorry about the way Boba spoke to you yesterday. I talked it out with him and he knows it wasn’t alright. I want us to be friends, and I won’t have him forbid me that. He should never have sent you off like that.“

Din just nods.

„He was jealous,“ you feel the need to elaborate. „Jealous of you, and I think of how much time we have been spending together while he was away.“

Din’s helmet tilts just a little bit.

„And was he right to be?“

You think you misheard for a second, then you blush wildly.

„Din, I- Was he right to be jealous? No. Possessive? …maybe.“ Once again, you wish you could gauge his reactions, you want to see his face and know what he feels.

„You thought about me?“ he asks and his voice is rough and low. You can feel your underwear get a little damp when you realise how close you are to him, how easy it would be to just slide up against him.

„I… I did. While Boba was away,“ you pause and when you swallow, your mouth is oddly dry. „I told Boba about it and he… he had a suggestion.“

Your cheeks heat up even more when you think about the proposal you are about to make.

„A suggestion?“ Din inquires curiously. „Does he not want me to work with you anymore?“

You shake your head.

„Uhh… no. Quite the opposite, actually. We were… we were wondering if- if you’d like to join us? Sometime?“

There is a pause and you can almost hear the gears inside Din’s helmet turning.

„Join you as in…?“ His innocence is endearing, but Maker, you wish he’d gotten your point so you would not have to get so graphic.

„Join us in... Uhm.. it’s… do you wanna fuck me?“ you burst out and Din’s whole body goes rigid. He doesn’t move a single inch, you are not even sure he is breathing. „Din?“

„I-,“ he breaks off and takes a deep breath. „I… I can’t, sweet girl. You’re not mine.“

Hot flashes run through your body. But I could be, you want to scream, but you know that’s not true. You don’t want to be his, you just want him. You belong with Boba, but Din… you desperately want him to say yes to this.

„I don’t have to be yours,“ you whisper and inch closer to him until his thigh slots between yours and you are straddling him, leaning into the soft warmth of his unarmoured body. „We could just… have some fun. Boba was the one who suggested it. I already agreed. I just didn’t know how to ask you.“

Din is still not moving, but his breaths come heavy through his vocoder when you take his gloved hand in yours and guide it to your tits. You press your chest into him and let his hand go, but it stays there, covering your tits through your undershirt, his helmet tilted downward as if he wants to look at himself touching you.

„You said you wanted company. We can give you that. You said you wanted a distraction. We can be that for you. It won’t be forever, it can be just once, or just for a week, or just until you leave. But I want you, and Boba is willing to share.“

Din’s hand digs into the soft flesh of your breast and you can hear him pant through the helmet, but he says nothing. You feel like you’re overwhelming him, so you gently pull back and get up, pulling him with you.

„Think it over, Din. Whatever you decide, just let me know. Or Boba. Don’t worry if you… if you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I made things awkward.“

You slide down the ladder, Din following your movement like an automated droid.

„I should…“ his voice is rough and he trails off without finishing his sentence, then turns around and heads towards the elevator. You sigh as you watch him go. You really hope you have not scared him away.

Boba finds you leaning against the ship some minutes later. Before he can say anything, you get up and take his hand.

„I asked him.“

„And what did he say?“ Boba sounds a little worried.

„Not much… he left. Not the palace, just headed off to his apartment. I think I overwhelmed him.“

Boba pulls you close to him and walks with you to the elevator. When the bell dings and the doors to your apartment slide open, you are giggling into Boba’s side as he regales you with a wild tale of some nutcase in the throne room.

You go quiet when Boba suddenly stops and as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see Din pacing left to right nervously, back in his usual armour, the coveralls gone in favour of a gleaming wall of silver.

„What you said earlier…,“ he says slowly, carefully choosing his words. „What did you have in mind?“

Previous Chapter ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Next Chapter

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Mando'a translations

Osik – Shit Cyare - love (pet name) Cyar'ika - sweetheart Mesh'la - beautiful Ori’jate – very good Me’bana, sarad’ika – What’s up, little flower

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d-criss-news · 3 years ago

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20 Questions With Darren Criss: How Acting Has Helped Him Make New Music

While Darren Criss has graced our TV screens with a range of characters, from high schooler Blaine Anderson on Glee to serial killer Andrew Cunanan on The Assassination of Gianni Versace, he was last spotted just being himself, on our For You Page on TikTok. “I’m walking to rehearsal with a guitar on my back with a Trader Joe’s bag ... I did not bring an umbrella because I forgot that it was raining. I’m rocking that NYC musician life,” the Glee alum explained in the hilarious clip posted three days ago.

While Criss’ acting work has earned him acclaim and stardom, he leaned into making music during the pandemic. On Aug. 20, he dropped a new EP, Masquerade, featuring five new tracks that Criss says were inspired by the different characters Criss has embraced throughout his career. After Criss wrote songs for his musical comedy web series Royalties and Apple TV+’s animated sitcom Central Park before the pandemic struck the United States, he then used those experiences as a precursor to his new EP. As Criss continues to promote his new music, he answered 20 of Billboard's questions – giving us a peek into how his new EP came together, and how growing up in San Fransisco shaped him as an actor, singer and all-around artist.

1. What inspired your latest project, Masquerade?

Although I would have preferred that it come at a far less grim cost, I finally had the time. Before the pandemic, I had written 10 new songs for my show Royalties -- along with an original song for Disney and another for Apple’s Central Park. These were all assignments in which I was writing for a certain scenario and character. Go figure. It was the most music I had ever written in a calendar year. This really emboldened me to rethink how I made my own music— to start putting a focus on “character creation” in my songs, rather than personal reflection. The latter was not proving to be as productive. The alchemy of having this time and having set a new intention with my own songwriting and producing made me put on a few of my favorite masques and throw myself a Masquerade.

2. How do you think your background as an actor complements your music?

They are one and the same to me. I treat acting roles like musical pieces— dialogue is like scoring a melody; there’s pace, dynamics, cadence, tone. Physical characterization is like producing -- zeroing in on the bass line, deciding on the kick pattern. Vocal characterization is like choosing the right sonic experience, choosing the most effective snare sound, and mixing the high end or low end. It goes without saying that it works in the complete opposite direction. Making each song is taking on a different role literally and employing the use of different masques to maximize the effectiveness of the particular story being told.

3. On Instagram you wrote that “Masquerade is a small collection of the variety of musical masques that have always inspired me.” Which track do you identify with most in your real life?

Everybody absorbs songs differently. Some key into the lyrics, some into the melody, some the production, some into vocal performance. When I listen to songs, I consider all of their value on totally different scales. So it’s hard to say if there’s any track I “identify” with more than any others, since I -- by nature -- identify with all of them. I think I just identify with certain aspects more than others. If it helps for a more interesting answer, I will say I enjoy the slightly more classical, playful -- dare I say -- more Broadway-leaning wordplay of “Walk of Shame,” but that’s just talking about lyricism. I enjoy the attitude of “F*kn Around,” the batsh--t musicality of “I Can’t Dance,” the relentless grooves of “Let’s” and “For A Night Like This.” All have different ingredients I really enjoy having an excuse to dive into.

4. What’s the first piece of music that you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?

Beatles audio cassettes: “Help” and “Hard Day’s Night.” I just listened on repeat on a tape-playing Walkman until my brother and I got a stereo for our room with a CD player in it, which was when I just bought the same two albums again, but this time as compact discs.

5. What was the first concert you saw?It’s hard to say, because my parents took us to a lot of classical concerts when we were small. But I guess this question usually refers to what was the first concert you went to on your own volition, and that my friend, was definitely Warped Tour ’01. My brother and I went on our own— two teenagers going to their first music festival, in the golden age of that particular genre and culture. It was f--king incredible.

6. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid?

My dad was in private banking and advised really, really wealthy people on how to handle their money. My mom was, by choice, a stay-at-home mom, but in reality, she was my dad’s consigliere. They discussed absolutely everything together. They were a real team, and I saw that every single day in the house. They both had a background in finance (That’s how they met in the first place.) and were incredibly skilled at all the hardcore adulting things that I absolutely suck at. They were total finance wizards together. So of course, instead of becoming an accountant, I picked up playing the guitar and ran as far I could with it. Luckily, they were all about it.

7. What was your favorite homecooked meal growing up?

My dad was an incredible chef. For special occasions, I’d request his crab cakes. They were unreal. I’ve never had a crab cake anywhere in the world that was good as my dad’s.

8. Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?

I don’t know if I’ve actually realized that yet.

9. What’s at the top of your professional bucket list?

The specifics change every day, but the core idea at the top is to continue being consistently inconsistent with my choices, and to keep getting audiences to constantly reconsider their consideration of me. But I mean, sure, what performer doesn’t want to play Coachella? What songwriter doesn’t want to have Adele sing one of their songs? What actor doesn’t want to be in a Wes Anderson film?

10. How did your hometown/city shape who you are?

San Francisco. I mean, come on. I was really lucky. The older I get, the more grateful I am for just being born and raised there. It’s an incredibly diverse, culturally rich, colorful, inclusive, vibrant city. By the time I was born, it had served as a beacon for millions of creative, out-of-the-box thinkers to gather and thrive. I grew up around that. The combination of that with having parents, who were unbelievably supportive of the arts themselves, laid an incredibly fortunate foundation to consider the life of an artist as a legitimately viable option. It’s a foundation that I am supremely aware is not the case for millions of young artists around the world. I was absurdly lucky.

11. What’s the last song you listened to?

I mean probably one of mine, but not by choice. I know, lame. But I’m promoting a new EP, what’d you expect? But if you wanna know what I’ve been listening to, as far as new s--t is concerned: a lot of Lizzy McAlpine, Remi Wolf, and Charlie Burg.

12. If you could see any artist in concert, dead or alive, who would it be?

The Beatles is an obvious "yeah, duh." Sammy Davis, Mel Tormé, or of course, Nat King Cole. I would’ve loved to see Howard Ashman give a lecture on his creative process and his body of work.

13. What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen happen in the crowd of one of your sets?

I feel like just having a crowd at all, at any one of my sets, is pretty wild enough.

14. What’s your karaoke go-to?

The real answer to this I’ll write into a book one day, because I have a lot to say about karaoke etiquette. I have two options here: I can either name a song that I like to sing for me, for fun, or I can name a song that really gets the group going. The answer depends on what kind of karaoke night we’re dealing with here. So I will say, after I’ve selected a ton of songs that services a decent enough party vibe for everyone else, then I would do one for me, and that would be the Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”

15. What’s one thing your most devoted fans don’t know about you?

What I have up my sleeve.

16. What TV show did you binge-watch over the past year?

Dave is a stroke of genius. There are episodes that I believe are bona fide masterpieces. Also, My Brilliant Friend is a masterclass in cinematic television.

17. What movie, or song, always makes you cry?

It’s A Wonderful Life.

18. What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

Get used to sharing everything about yourself and your life now, or more astutely, to the idea that you don’t necessarily get to control how your life is shared. I know it’s not really your thing, but you’re gonna have to get used to it, so start building up those calluses now. And don’t worry, all the stuff you love now will be cool again in your mid-thirties, so keep some of those clothes because you’ll be a full-blown fashion icon if you just keep wearing exactly what you’re wearing. Oh nd also, put money into Apple and Facebook.

19. What new hobby did you take on in the last year?

I’ve always been a linguaphile. My idea of leisure time is getting to study or review other languages. This past year, I took the time to finally dive into learning how to read, write, and speak Japanese. Other than making music, it was one of the biggest components of my 2020-2021.

20. What do you hope to accomplish or experience by the end of 2021?

I hope I get to play live shows again.

#darren criss #billboard #masquerade ep #press #sept 2021

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ctl-yuejie · 3 years ago

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How the diverse world of the addictive tv series “Cherry magic” got made

(interview with scriptwriter Yoshida Erika by Yokogawa Yoshiaki)

沼堕ち続出ドラマ“チェリまほ”の多様な世界はどうやって作られたのか【脚本家・吉田恵里香さん】2020.12.22 横川良明

for @howdydowdy because we were talking about what a fantastic character Fujisaki is and the notion of consent when it comes to reading someone’s mind

Currently, societal values continue to change rapidly. On one hand the movement of respecting each other’s diverse individualities and making it easier for each and every one to live in society has become more active, one the other hand it is not a rare occasion to be lost for words when suddenly unconscious discriminatory biases – derived from not being able to cut loose old values that are rooted deep in oneself – raise their heads.

How should we exist within this period of polarization? This series is to create the opportunity to think about this topic by having discussions with the toprunners in the entertainment world. The person I am introducing for the first edition is screenwriter Yoshida Erika.

She is behind the script of “Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!”, the tv series that has grabbed the first spot on the oricon satisfaction ranking for 4 weeks in a row, and has gained fast popularity despite its late-night spot. The enthusiasm for the show can be attributed to the soft view Ms. Yoshida has on the world.

Yokogawa Yoshiaki (YY): I am happily watching the series. I really liked the original work, however the way it was adapted to a television format has been brilliant. One big thing is the making of the character of Kurosawa played by Machida Keita. By Adachi’s magic (played by Akasouji Eiji), the voice of Kurosawa’s heart spills out, and while the original text had him be quite blatant in his expressions overall, the drama carefully examines them.

Yoshida Erika (YE): That is definitely where there is a difference in depth. The original has the premise of a work in the BL genre, readers are expecting a BL-like development, so they can take such things in stride, but the viewership of the tv series is more varied. Under them there might be people who do not like BL. That is why I was conscious about how different people from different backgrounds might watch this show.

It is not okay to assault someone just because you were invited to their house, kissing or touching without consent is not okay and being of the same or different sex makes no difference in this. Treating such things as okay because it is BL would be rude to the parties concerned. Because we are using the BL genre, we want to specifically protect the “firsts” of the parties concerned. That is something the producer Ms. Honma Kanami and the director agreed about and I therefore paid extra attention to.

YY: Adachi himself, as he is about to step into Kurosawa’s house thinks “Not that I might possibly get assaulted?!”, and is very vigilant, but with some soul-searching realizes that that is rude towards Kurosawa. To say it briefly, you can feel the probity of the creators.

YE: I thought that a main character that thinks that he will get assaulted when he steps into the house of someone will not be loveable. No matter how well received the person is who acts it out, if we cannot love them on a human level, this drama will not work. Adachi’s power to read people’s hearts is also the action of seeing people’s darker sides on his own volition. That’s why a character we cannot love as a person will receive push-back by the viewers.

YY: Just like you said, the act of reading peoples’ hearts includes great violence. That is why I think that when he realizes that Kurosawa has fond feelings for him, unlike the original where he reads Kurosawa’s heart on purpose, the drama treats it as an accidental force. Over the whole series, it is of focal importance that Adachi doesn’t overuse his magic.

YE: That is where we were extremely careful. In the manga easy comprehensiveness is important and that type of suspense is interesting - and we don’t intend to deny that - but if you do it as a drama, I didn’t want to make him into a young man using his powers at ease. That is why, especially in the first half, he decides and tries very hard not to use his powers when possible. The scene where he reads the CEO’s heart appears in the first issue of the original, but in the drama we pushed it back to the 5th episode. We made it a point to illustrate how Adachi is filled with the emotion to help Kurosawa and that is why he uses his powers.

That what I don’t want others to do unto me, I do not want to inflict on characters.

YY: His colleague Fujisaki (Satou Ryo) is a Fujoshi in the original and that premise was cut from the series. If you decided to have a Fujoshi character on a prime time show, did you think that misunderstandings might arise easily?

YE: That was definitely a thought. In BL as a genre it is not an issue that a character exists that takes the same viewpoint as the reader, and I love Fujisaki in the original, but the people who are acting it out in reality are real people. At that point, loudly fawning about someone else’s’ love life is not perceived as good conduct. At the least, I thought that I wouldn’t want to be treated like that.

YY: It is fine to envision fictional characters as romantic partners, but it is different when you make a real acquaintance the target of that.

YE:

A thought we had was that if Adachi and Kurosawa were to really date it would be one thing, but grinning at someone - who might even be heterosexual – because you inflate your own BL adjacent delusion isn’t much different from a man grinning at a woman with big breasts and calling her sexy. I wouldn’t want to get treated that way, so I didn’t want to inflict that on the characters in the story as well.

When it comes to Fujisaki it isn’t like she isn’t a Fujoshi. We do not clearly state it, but I thought there was no reason to show it in the drama.

YY: You are saying, that it is fine that people might interpret Fujisaki as a Fujoshi when she is smiling at Adachi and Kurosawa.

YE: Yes. That is where you are free to imagine (laughs).

YY: What I thought was very fresh is that instead of proclaiming her to be a Fujoshi, Fujisaki is turned into someone who “is happily living her daily life even without romantic love”. We don’t often get characters like that in Japanese tv series.

Personally, I also like romantic tv series, but while feeling venerated when the main characters have realized their love in the final episode, when trying to build a romantic connection to someone else in real life it might not go well and beyond that, it is not that it never happens that I, who also holds interests in other things than romance, end up feeling empty because of the lonely feeling of having been left behind (when watching a romance on tv unfold).

But with having Fujisaki appear, it felt like I got rescued.

YE: Until now, for several projects I made the suggestion of a character that is not interested in romance, but I wasn’t understood. “Is it necessary to do that?” “Aren’t you overthinking it?” were things I got told often.

But with this production, when I said that I wanted Fujisaki to be asexual or aromantic, no one denied me. From that stage on I thought that this place was a good one, and thanks to the original writer giving her agreement it got turned into reality.

YY: Since this kind of character hasn’t really appeared in a tv series, it felt like people like Fujisaki were assigned to be non-existent in this world. But thanks to you envisioning her like this, seen from a person that like Fujisaki might say “I got used to acting “normal”” and feel a notion of despair when confronted with people not understanding them, it felt like it got emphasized that people like her also exist in our society. Picking such little voices feels like it is one of the purposes of entertainment.

YE: If that could become the case I would be glad about it. 10 to 20 years prior, a “fairytale gay” (describing the flamboyant gay friend, that mentally supports the heroine by giving some harsh but accurate advice) often appeared in tv series from abroad, but this portrayal slowly changed, finally it has reached the point where the view point that being gay isn’t something special has penetrated the public.

So this time, I believe that one of my duties was to tell the story of people that are not interested in romance or people who do not only love one person, not from a standpoint that is convenient for consumption, but to have properly realized characters up to their individual backgrounds.

I hope the time comes where it isn’t necessary to especially say “This is a BL series”

YY: Please let me speak on something that has confused me this far. Prior, when you explained Fujisaki in context of the script, it felt like it wasn’t okay to call her asexual or aromantic because she herself doesn’t use any of those labels. I was somewhat afraid that an outsider would just selfishly declare that “you are asexual, aren’t you!?” in regards to someone who hasn’t professed anything.

YE: There is the point of both of the terms asexual and aromantic not being widely known in Japan as much as compared to overseas and I also think there are people who just wouldn’t use these words. Even when you think you are not interested in romance at the moment, it could also be that you just haven’t found the person that makes you feel that way. That’s why I can understand how labelling someone has a violent notion.

YY: My next question is also relating to that: This applies to Cherry Maho, but generally when I write about over works that feature a lovestory between men I try not to use the word BL.

This is my own opinion but to me it feels like the term BL has too much of a sexual image.

In private I casually use the word BL. However, for the content of an article that is read by an unspecified number of people, I remember stumbling over labelling something as BL. Using BL as an easy genre specifier has the effect that there will be a layer that won’t get looked at. I simply want to have more people enjoy a piece of work. I don’t object to the editor using BL in the title but in the content I write, I try not to use the term BL story but simply “love story between two men” and keep it close to how you’d address it in reality.

YE: I understand that. Obviously, I don’t intend to shame the taste of people that like BL. However, I understand that there are people that feel a sense of resistance towards BL as a genre. That is why I also don’t use the word BL when I promote on twitter. I do think that it would be great to have a new word.

Just like women have things they don’t want to be subjected to, men also have things they don’t want to be subjected to. This kind of awareness has become more broadly spread bit by bit. However, in order to have it really penetrate society it needs for the voices of the affected people to be heard. But it is also the reality of today’s society that violence is directed at people that raise their voice. That is why I feel like it is the job of the people that create tv shows to speak up instead.

At the least, that is how I want to straightforwardly create the world, so that in 10 years without directly stating “this is a BL series” we have a society that takes it in as a “new cool romantic drama beginning” with “the leads being actor x and actor z” and as nothing unusual. Now we really have such a transitional period, and as a writer I want to build the steps towards it.

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original article: https://mi-mollet.com/articles/-/27045?page=3&per_page=1

#cherry magic #thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard #30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい #30 sai made #a bit rusty with my translations but i really enjoyed how they were talking about the writing and character composition in the series and #decided that I had to share #long post

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

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Casual Ruin Pt. 5 (Elriel)

Elain's part of the Damnation series.

Last part! I know I said this would be 6/7 parts, but I realized I have no idea what the fuck I had planned to write in those parts, so it's 5 instead hahah. didn't edit the ending whoops

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

__________________________________________

~Elain~

It's three in the morning when I hear it.

We're laying in bed, and even though I should asleep like the man next to me, I can't stop thinking about how little time we have left.

How has the past month gone by so fast?

It feels like yesterday I was standing on my stoop, watching Azriel open up and tell me things he's since admitted he's never told another person.

It feels like yesterday since I decided that I care for him more than I care about what he does.

But it wasn't yesterday; it was a month ago.

A month that's been filled with dinner dates, soft smiles, laughter, and enough tender moments my heart feels full. He's a

The plane ticket hidden in the bottom of my purse is a constant reminder that this is just a summer fling, that it isn't supposed to mean anything. Two weeks from now, I'm supposed to get on that flight and never look back.

Except it feels impossible.

It broke my heart when I walked away from him a month ago, and that was before he told me the details of his life.

Now I know him.

I know about the way he smiles in the morning and how he shakes his head when he laughs, like he can't believe he's doing so. I've learned how ticklish his ribs are, how he likes his coffee, his favorite type of cigarettes.

I know about his family, how his mother died giving birth to him and his father resented him from the day it happened. I know about the first man he killed, how it made him sick. I know what his tattoos really mean.

And what I never could've expected is that everything I've learned, the good and the bad, have tied me to him in a way that feels permanent.

How am I supposed to just walk away from that?

The thought of never seeing his smile, never feeling his rough hands cup my face with a gentleness he doesn't show the world... it feels like missing a part of me.

And it worries me enough I haven't been able to sleep for the past two nights. Like I'm incapable of wasting a minute, I spend the nights watching him sleep.

Which is why I'm perfectly awake when he pulls me close in his sleep and whispers two words that ruin me.

Ti amo.

Tears well in my eyes as I stay perfectly still, replaying the moment over and over.

He loves me.

It's something I knew--something we both probably knew--ever since that day in the rain, but I think we both never said it because we knew our time is limited.

It's been in every touch, every kiss, every moment where we get caught up just staring at each other.

But I want to tell him, I have to tell him, because however good it makes me feel to hear that from him... I know he needs it more.

He's never been loved--never been anyone's first choice, but he's mine, and I want him to know. And I don't want to be just one more person that leaves him and makes him wondering if he'll ever be enough.

So I start to plan.

~A week later, Azriel~

Well, the worst has happened.

I love the fucking woman.

Now my biggest weakness now walks outside my body, with soft brown eyes and dirty blonde hair and bright smiles that light up the world.

And she's leaving in a week.

It scares the shit out of me.

She scares the shit out of me.

Honestly, I hadn't even realized I was in so deep until she said the words "We're done."

All I remember about that day is feeling I'd been stabbed in the chest and looking down to find the blade but not seeing anything but my own hands.

One moment I was convinced I was dying, the next I was in front of her on her stoop, telling her shit I've never told a living soul.

It wasn't then that I realized I love her, but that was when I realized something maybe even more important. I trust her.

Rule 3's been thrown out the window, and I don't even remember when it happened. Was it when she told me I'm not a monster? Or the first time I noticed the way her lips turn up every time I tell her she's beautiful?

Or maybe it was the first time I laid eyes on her as she stumbled into that opera booth, looking like everything I never knew I wanted.

Either way, I'm about a mile up shit's creek with no fucking paddle.

I trust her, love her, and I've only known her ten weeks. Which reminds me, she's leaving.

Which is irritating, because while the mere thought of watching her leave makes me want to level a building, she's currently acting like nothing's wrong.

She's in the bathroom, putting on red lipstick in a slow, taunting way that makes me want to mess it up. I'm sitting in the chair next to my bed, trying to stay calm.

She's watching me watch her in the mirror, and her eyes meet mine for a split second before she looks away, making me suspicious.

That look... I've seen that look before, more times than I can count.

But never from her.

It's a secret.

She looks like she's hiding something.

"Something you need to tell me?" I ask, putting a hand behind my head to prop it up.

Nodding, she comes to stand at the foot of the bed. "Yep."

I raise a brow. "What is it?"

"I'll tell you tonight if you meet me for dinner."

Suspicion and curiosity make me ask, "Where?"

"La Rosa," she responds casually, making me narrow my eyes. It's outside of the city a bit, a small place on the coast I've never had an interest in owning or visiting.

"I've never been there."

"New experiences are good for the soul," she quips, sliding on her sandals. "Just say you'll meet me."

There's a hint of nerves in her voice, so I say, "Of course, dolce mia."

She smiles, victorious. Then she's bounding over, taking my face between her palms, and pressing her mouth to mine.

Before I can ask what she's up to, she's out the door, calling over her shoulder, "Seven o'clock! I'll meet you there."

I get up and slide my jacket on, slipping my hand in the pocket and toying with the piece of metal I've been carrying around for a month.

Sighing, I take it out and throw it on the counter, knowing that if this life has taught me one thing, it's that it won't make a difference.

When seven o'clock rolls around, I'm seated at a table, frowning at my surroundings.

I've definitely never been here.

No man has, I'm willing to bet. At least not on his own volition.

There are flowers everywhere. Spilling out of vases, growing on the vines surrounding the open windows, lining the doors that are open to the patio out back.

Besides that, I guess the place isn't too bad, actually. The lights are soft, the weather's nice, and by the smells coming from tables around me, the food will be good.

Elain's running a few minutes late, but she called and told me to go ahead and order.

Apparently, she's come here before, because she told me what to order her. Odd.

A few minutes after I relay the information to the waitress, I spot her coming in the front door and wave her over.

She's a little flushed, her eyes are bright, and the smile on her face gives no doubt she's excited.

I stand up when she reaches me, kiss her, then ask, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she says too quickly. "Did you order?"

"Yeah. Have you been here before or something?"

She nods, diverting her eyes down and to the right in the classic tell of a lie.

I sigh, frustration getting the better of me. "Elain, what are you hiding from me?"

Before she can answer, the food comes. Two plates of pasta are set in front of us, and I know instantly I was right about the food being good.

But no matter how good it looks, there's only one thing on my mind.

"Elain."

She waves a hand. "Just eat, Azriel. I promise I'll tell you in like five minutes."

"Why not just tell me now?"

"It's more dramatic this way," she explains, making me sigh again.

Women.

She's going to give me a fucking heart attack with her drama.

A little aggressively, I stab the fork in the pasta, taking a huge bite.

I feel her eyes on me, watching me eat, but I act like I don't notice, mentally counting down the seconds until five minutes is up.

I'm at 263 when she asks, "Do you like it?"

"What?"

Rolling her eyes, she gestures to the plate in front of me. "Do you like it?"

"It's good," I reply honestly, a little surprised. I've lived here long enough to know the best places to eat, and I've never heard more than a decent review about this place.

"I'm glad," she says, full lips tilting up. "Since I made it."

I don't get it. Did she bring it with her? Is that why she was late?

Also, why did we come to a restaurant if she was going to cook?

"What? Why?"

She tilts her head, smile growing.

Right as my still-counting subconscious gets to five minutes, she explains, "Because I work here."

~Elain~

He stares at me, bite of pasta halfway between his mouth and the plate.

I've been almost bursting at the seems the past four days trying to keep the secret.

I mean, given what the man does for a living, I didn't think I'd make it more than an hour. And while he's definitely been suspicious, I made it.

"What?" he finally asks, dark brows furrowing as he leans in.

"I have a lot to say," I tell him. "So don't interrupt me."

His eyes narrow like they always do when I tell him what to do, but I ignore it and start listing off the different secrets I've been keeping.

I start with the most important.

"First, I love you."

The fork clangs against the plate as he drops it.

I smile, biting my lip and trying not to cry at the look on his face.

"I think I have since that first night when we danced in the bar. Or maybe when you took me to the beach. I don't know." Taking a deep breath, I say, "I tried to stop, when I found out... everything. But it was useless, because I was as in love with you then as I am now."

He shakes his head, almost like he's panicked, but I keep going.

"I love you, Azriel. I want to be with you more than I've ever wanted anything. And I can't bear the thought of leaving you. I don't want to."

Gesturing around us, I say, "I got a job here, and my landlord said she can draw up a lease. And before you say anything, I'm not giving anything up. The past months have felt like paradise, and I love it here. I liked my job in New York, but it wasn't anything I'll miss."

His eyes are so wide, it'd be a little funny if I wasn't so serious.

I take a sip of wine and try to puta brave face on. A lump forms in my throat, but I manage to say, "But we never talked about anything long term, so if this isn't what you want... I'll go. I promise. I just wanted you to know that you're... it for me. You're everything to me. I choose you."

He shudders, closing his eyes, and I take in how tight his jaw is, how close he seems to coming unraveled.

Is he freaking out? I definitely am.

After a few moments, I realize he's still waiting on me, so I laugh and say, "You can talk now."

He doesn't.

He just opens his eyes and stares at me, the shock in his gaze clear to read.

Nerves blossom. I was so sure he'd be happy, but maybe he isn't ready. Voice turning shaky, I ask, "Is this what you want?"

Slowly, he shakes his head, but before I can panic, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, holding it out between us. "I want you to live with me, not at the townhouse."

All the nerves fly out the door, and I laugh, not quite able to believe it.

How long has he been carrying this around?

The tears finally spilling over as I take the key from him. "Okay."

He brushes my cheeks off with his thumb, looking at me like he's never seen anything more beautiful.

Azriel's quiet for a moment, and I give him time, knowing that whatever he wants to say is hard for him.

"Ti amo. Mi spaventa così tanto."

I love you. So much is scares me.

"You? Scared? I don't believe it."

I'm trying to joke and lighten the mood, but he's completely serious as he shakes his head, cupping my jaw with his hand. "You scare the shit out of me, Elain."

My heart clenches, and I fight a fresh wave of tears as I lean into his touch. "You scare me, too."

"But you're not leaving."

It's said like a hopeful promise, like something he needs to hear again and again to accept it's true.

I shake my head. "I'm not leaving," I whisper.

He finally smiles, that big smile I'm positive he only gives me, and leans over the table to kiss me softly. "Say it again."

"I love you."

He kisses me again, and I slide my hands in his hair and kiss him back, feeling like everything before now has led up to this. He's the grand finale, the one I didn't know I was waiting for.

I pull back a little, just far enough to see his reaction as I whisper, "Meet me in the bathroom."

His eyes flare and his mouth drops open, and I laugh as I get up from my seat and try to walk nonchalantly towards the back.

This hadn't been part of the plan, but I've told him I love him, and now... I want to prove it.

Plus, I don't know what it is about him, but he feeds the adventurous side of me like nothing else.

I can feel him watching me from the table as I make my way across the restaurant.

Thankfully, the place is busy tonight, so I don't think anyone notices when, as soon as I shut the bathroom door, he rises to follow me.

A moment later, he slips in with me, taking in the dim lights, closed stall, low music. He flips the lock, and it's like it snaps the thread between us, descending us into chaos.

He's on me in a second, arms wrapping around me and lifting me. My legs bracket his hips as he pushes me up against the wall and traps my hands above my head.

"Say it again," he demands breathlessly, eyes bright and full of heat.

I nip his lower lip, then kiss it softly. "I love you, Azriel."

His mouth crashes into mine, unrestrained and demanding and deep enough I lose myself in him.

My hands are in his hair, his are pushing up the hem of my dress.

There's a brief moment of adjusting, and then he's easing into me. His eyes are on me, his lips are parted, and as I tighten around him, he makes a deep rumbling sound. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"You're mine," I tell him, tilting my hips to take him deeper. "And I'm yours."

He shudders, eyes going black. "You're mine."

His hips claim mine, then, pulling out and thrusting back in, moving me up the wall. I tighten my fingers in his hair as he hits a spot deep inside me, and he groans.

Moving his hands to my hips, he brings me down as he thrusts up, and I moan, then slap a hand over my mouth.

I work here, for God's sake.

"This is not very professional," I mutter, smiling when his lips twitch.

"No," he agrees, thrusting into me harder. "And it's definitely inappropriate."

I clamp my lips together, pressing my hand to my mouth again to stifle the involuntary whimper I let out.

Azriel grins, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth and whispering, "You might need to go to confessional again."

Rolling my eyes, I move my hands to his shoulders, then lean in to lick up the column of his neck. "Between the two of us, I'd say you're more likely to end up on your knees tonight."

He laughs, tugging my head back to kiss me again. His tongue meets mine in a wet, deep slide that makes me shiver. His hips brush mine. His hands hold me just right, keeping me against him.

Pulling back, he brushes his lips over mine and whispers, "I love you."

The easy, conversational pace is abandoned, and we're moving harder against each other, the only sounds our labored breathing and muffled moans.

He brings a hand to cover my mouth, and I cover his with mine, and we're in tandem, both of us lost in the other.

He comes when I do, driving deeply into me and stilling, his head buried in my neck.

We spend a while like that, and when I eventually slide down the wall, we take our time adjusting our clothes. He keeps stopping me to kiss my shoulder or brow, and I waste too much time just looking at him.

When we're both ready, he extends a hand and grins. "Let's go home."

I smile, unable to help it. "Let's go home."

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! This is the last part, although I might do an epilogue one day (don't hold your breath lol).

Send me asks if you have em :)

@elorcan-trash @sweetdaisybell @anyblinding @acreativelydifferentlove @loosingdreams @poisonous00 @januarystears @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @thedarkdemigod @full-tilt-diva @biggestwingspan-az @bookstantrash @mari-highladyof-feels @pilesofriles @bamchickawowow @teddytdr @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @autophobiax @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acotar #acomaf fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel #a court of thorns and roses

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destielshippingnews · 2 years ago

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Edvard's Supernatural Guide: 1x15 The Benders

In this analysis, I discuss stupid cannibals, a stupid script, and stupid Dean in an episode I considered skipping.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, the fifteenth episode of Supernatural enjoys a place among the fan favourite episodes. True to form for the early years, this episode is heavily inspired by American folk lore. In spite of its superficial similarities to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (one of the first American horror films where the threat was not an outside force representing the gays or the commies, but rather something rotten in American society), this episode draws on the story of the Bloody Benders, a ‘family’ of serial killers from Kansas in the 1870s responsible for the deaths and probable cannibalism of at least eleven people. The episode also sticks to Supernatural’s early years horror-film-every-week aesthetic.

However, when I watch a show called ‘supernatural’, I am not interested in either 1) the police and the law, and 2) mundane humans being the villains. Although this episode did include a policewoman, I am glad that the Dean-is-a-wanted-serial-killer subplot did not come to the fore because I cannot for the life of me care for it. That might belong in The X-Files, but it is just dead weight in this show and I will celebrate when it is finally dropped. I enjoyed seeing Dean manage a fluent social interaction with the sheriff and bond with her over their missing relatives, but I am glad it went no further than it did.

But back to the plot, some people claim this episode is one of the most unsettling of all the episodes, but the cannibal hill-billies do not give me the willies. I do not care if people like this could actually exist: so they like killing, big whoop. I collect Dean pops and watch Days of Our Lives of my own volition, we all have our vices. Moreover, the episode relies on its characters being uncharacteristically stupid in order for its plot to be possible. This makes it hard for me like.

Something it did well, however, was the subtle placing of the camper van in the cold open (can we even call it a cold open when there is no title card for this episode?). It lurks in the background without drawing attention to itself, and it is also present in precisely the same way when Sam leaves Dean in the bar. First-time viewers may not notice it, and it is completely possible that most people watching it a second or third time will also miss it, but those of us who notice certainly appreciate not having our hands held.

A result of Supernatural being on the WB (and from 2006 onwards the CW) is that it was bound by network restrictions on what could and could not be shown, said, and done. This episode has a gruesome atmosphere which is surprising even for Supernatural, and feels like an utterly different show to what is seen in roughly series 5 onwards. However, due to the above-mentioned restrictions, next to none of the cannibals’ man-flesh eating (and note, Dear Reader, that it is exclusively men who are shown killed and eaten by this family) is shown. Instead we are given clues such as the photographs of the dead bodies, the jar of teeth (which Dean unwisely stops to examine in a moment of uncharacteristic-yet-typical-of-this-episode stupidity) and various bones hung from the ceiling like wind-chimes. Particularly evocative is the metal-on-bone sound of Daddy Cannibal chopping up what is presumably Alvin Jenkins’ body (the missing father from the cold open).

I and many others have commented on the stark similarities between the atmosphere, presentation, and style of this show and The X-Files. As well as the fact both shows were filmed chiefly in Vancouver, Canada, a lot of the staff on Supernatural had worked on The X-Files, including writer John Shiban and director/executive producer Kim Manners (who took photography-fan Jensen under his wing as his directing protégée), as well as a baker’s dozen of extras and minor characters such as the professor in 1x11 Scarecrow and Samuel Campbell (Mary Winchester’s father). Even Mark Shepherd (Crowley) appeared as a pyromaniac in The X-Files1x12 Fire at the very beginning of his acting career. One more similarity is the likeness this episode bears to The X-Files 4x03 Home which features a cannibalistic, incestuous family and a baby buried alive.

The aforementioned Kim Manners was director of that episode, and it aired a mere decade before this episode: they all knew what they were doing when they made 1x15 the way they did: plenty of viewers from The X-Files watched Supernatural (at least at the beginning) and would likely have appreciated the similarities. However, 1x15 does not live up to the precedent set by 4x03 (which I had watched two or three years before viewing this episode in 2008 and remembered clearly). The restrictions seem tighter and the script is not up to the same standard. (Please remember that this is the same network which would not allow Willow and Tara to kiss on screen for over a year after they got together on Buffy, and the same network which featured next to no physical intimacy between Jack and his boyfriend in Dawson’s Creek.)

As all too frequently with this show, there is potential for greatness here, but it goes unfulfilled. This will become a refrain over the course of the show: as I said in my introduction to this series of analyses, it had the potential to blow Buffy and Angel out of the water, but alas it did not.

Regarding the script, one of the issues was that the characters acted dumb for no reason other than plot progression. Sam should never have been overpowered so easily by two yokels: he is rusty after a few years at university, but there is no good reason why he would not be armed with at least a gun wherever he goes. The sheriff was also especially idiotic in leaving Dean handcuffed to the car whilst going to investigate the hill-billies’ home alone. Dean could also have wasted both brothers and Daddy Cannibal alone in the fight at the end if the script had not had him forget to check his back. Even getting into that fight in the first place was silly: I can understand the viewers thinking Missy was an innocent victim, but surely Dean is jaded enough after 22 years in the hunting life to be suspicious of a dirty little girl walking about unattended in a cannibals’ house. As for his presence in the house in the first place, what good reason did he have for not dousing it in petrol, lighting it on fire, and ganking the cannibals as they fled?

The plot needed him not to is the answer. Just like the plot had him leave home unarmed that morning, meaning he went to the Cannibals’ house with no guns, knives, daggers, or even a lock pick. Such contrived, uncharacteristic stupidity.

Apropos the plot, it robbed me of the natural conclusion to Dean being the MVP of this episode. The fight scene before Daddy Cannibal knocks him out was well-choreographed and showcased how skilled and dangerous a fighter Dean is: what a shame, then, for it to be cut short and for us to never get the proper conclusion to that fight, which would have been for Dean to single-handedly smash their faces with a chair leg. No, this is not a power fantasy: Dean has fought monsters for well in excess of a decade at this point, and yokels should be no match for him. Unfortunately, the plot needed to do what the plot needed to do, so alas, Dean. Better luck next time, buddy.

And speaking of the house, the sheriff not warning Dean about Missy was a silly oversight which could have got them all killed. Everybody is stupid in this episode. However, Sam’s attempted put-down to Dean in the final scene was annoying: ‘you got overpowered by a little girl’. Dean would never have been in that situation where it took a teenager almost gutting him, two men attacking his front, and a shovel to the back of the head to subdue him if Sam had managed to keep himself from being bested by inbred yokels in the first place. To riff on Paula R. Stiles’ words, I do not know what kind of bad-ass put down that was supposed to be, Sam, but have a little self-awareness next time.

But this script reduced everybody’s IQ to the level of your average inbred yokel anyway, so whatever. And do you remember, Dear Viewer, the note I made about damage to the head in 1x11 Scarecrow? A blow to the head strong enough to cause unconsciousness is strong enough to kill or cause serious brain damage. The sheriff and Dean should both either be dead or in wheelchairs at this point.

The Cannibal family also displayed about as much IQ as a cabbage in this episode. What on Earth did they possibly think would happen to them after they kidnapped a policewoman? The fact she was at their doorstep alone should have been warning enough that they were in danger, and kidnapping her would only have ensured their arrest and possible death. Not only that, but Dean was a force to be reckoned with, and only a surprise attack managed to put him out of action. They were hopelessly outclassed by him alone, and if they were wise they would have killed him as soon as he was unconscious, rather than – pun intended – grilling him for information about ‘whether the police were onto them’. My guys, my dudes, my mens, you are all absolute spoons. Even if they were not cannibalistic and probably incestuous murderers, that utter idiocy alone makes them worthy of nothing but a Dean-induced death.

Furthermore, why in the Hell did Idiot Brother #1 feel it necessary to open Sam’s cage in order to kill him, rather than simply perforate him with bullets from the outside? And why did the sheriff not stab Idiot Brother #2 in the back or – ironically – deck him with a shovel rather than jumping out of the hay loft and not accomplishing much?

I have so many questions, but moving on…

Having pointed out Sam’s idiocy in letting himself get jumped by yokels in a car park in the middle of town, it would be remiss of me not to point out that he was the brother doing the research in the bar. Dean is light years away from being stupid, but book research is more Sam’s strength, honed by his time at university. Dean very likely has ADHD, and one trait of this can be difficulty taking in written information, so it makes sense Sam would be the one of the two to take the lion’s share of book research. Nothing comes from the research, however, and Sam’s suggestions were rather random.

An unfortunate side effect of this is that Sam’s association with books, research, and lore have made a large section of casual viewers label him as the smart one and Dean as the dumb one. In 1x16 Shadow, even Sam strongly suggests he thinks Dean is an idiot (in a way which cannot be construed as a ‘sibling joke’) after Dean manages to find an important lead doing research on his own. This same attitude pervades the entire show and its characters’ perceptions of Dean and Sam. Dean is the big, muscly, masculine one who rarely talks about his feelings or shows obvious sensitivity, so he is the stupid one. Sam, however, reads books, has floppy hair, and talks about emotions, so he is more intelligent and developed. This is a stereotypical masculine/feminine dynamic where the stereotypically masculine is portrayed and perceived as unintelligent and undeveloped in comparison to the less stereotypically masculine. I will have a lot more to say about this in my discussion of 2x02 Everybody Loves a Clown.

One more interesting thing this scene does (as Paula R. Stiles points out) is show some of the differences between Dean and Sam’s relationship with the otherworld they live in as well as make the otherworld more credible for the viewers.

Dean knows the otherworld, and is portrayed as belonging more to the otherworld than the normal world (an apt metaphor for neurodivergence and trauma if ever there were one). Having spent his entire life minus 4 years in the otherworld of monsters, ghosts, and demons, it is as familiar to him as the real world is to us. We know, for example, that wendigo and stallo do not exist in the same way Dean knows certain creatures are just myths and folk tales. This makes it real to the viewer because it has rules and limitations. Sam is the viewer’s stand-in in this dichotomy, unfamiliar with exactly what is real and what is fiction. Dean’s knowledge provides boundaries and guidelines in the same way our knowledge of what is real and what’s not in our world does for us.

Regarding Dean, he is portrayed as being socially awkward (a point in favour of autism), yet when engaged on a subject which is important to him, conversation flows perfectly naturally. When posing as a sheriff at the beginning (wee little hat and everything), he used his knowledge of monster films to build a rapport with the little boy, which is an important skill to have when interviewing and facing people in general.

So imagine my chagrin at Sam’s pissy attitude. I neglected to discuss it in my analysis of 1x14 Nightmare, but this same attitude was apparent at the wake when Dean and Sam posed as priests. Dean wasted little time stepping into the role of priest, talking comfortably with Zelda as a priest would, only for Sam (who had not made any effort to do his job) to ‘ask’ do you wanna dial it back?. Moments later at the coffee table, Dean helps himself to a cocktail sausage which was placed there for people to eat, only to be met with a pissy bitch stare of death from Sam. The microexpressions on Dean’s face in the following seconds told volumes: going from relaxed to suddenly self-aware and uncomfortable, to exhausted and resigned. That was more than a ‘sibling joke’, and you cannot tell me my eyes did not see what my eyes saw. That was the look of a man who was worn down and tired of someone’s treatment of him.

Returning to the current episode, 1x15 The Benders, Sam shows similar poisonous, controlling behaviour at the very beginning, destroying the rapport Dean had with the boy. Admittedly, this is only two instances of one kind of behaviour, but in the context of everything else I have written about their brotherhood over the course of these 15 reviews, I hope all 7 of my readers can see a pattern forming.

Returning to the bar scene, I am left wondering at exactly whom Dean winked. He appeared to be looking in the direction of the actual bar, but the women there were not shown to be looking anywhere like in his direction. It is also interesting that the sign Men’s above the toilet doorwas clearly shown above his head at several points in this scene. What was that about?

One thing I am yet to mention as I draw this analysis to a close is the striking juxtaposition of the family in this episode with the abusive Miller family in 1x14 Nightmare. The Millers were a mirror for the Winchesters, and it is tempting to draw metaphorical parallels between the Cannibals and Winchesters. The Cannibals are a family who has been living on the fringes of society for generations, and are irrevocably damaged by this history. The head of the family was once a victim of his own history, and passed this down to his own children, who doubtless would have done the same to their own offspring if things had continued as before. It is easy to see a mirror of John, Dean, and Sam here, though the generational trauma aspect fits better with Mary’s side of the family, the Campbells.

John grew up without his father Henry, but that loss in itself impacted the family in detrimental ways which they never recovered from. Far be it from me to speculate as an armchair psychologist, but John’s lack of experience of having a father to guide him to manhood – or indeed adulthood generally – meant he was ill-equipped to raise his own boys. Had Mary survived, there might well still have been negative consequences of this loss on the family if John did not know how to have a father-son relationship or how to express or feel paternal love for his sons. The effect this would have had on his boys would have been profound, their own kind of generational trauma.

Some quick comments before I finish: Jensen’s acting, Dear Reader; Dear Reader, Jensen’s acting! I am thrilled for 2005!Jensen actually getting a role with real depth, because his acting ability shines here in a way it simply did not get to in Days of Our Lives, Dawson’s Creek, or Smallville. Focusing on one scene, the despair, shock, rage, and sadness expressed in just a few seconds after he believed Idiot Brother #1 killed Sam were on point.

A short review this time for an episode which leaves me cool. Not the worst episode of the show, and a good country mile better than anything Smallville had to offer, but it simply was not my cup of tea. It did nothing to progress the plot in any way, nor did it carry over any of the suspense or plot points raised in 1x14 Nightmare. Not a single mention of Sam’s visions or telekinesis was made, and to be honest I forgot that stuff while watching this episode because it feels so disconnected from the narrative.

Next episode sees the return of two important characters, however briefly, and sets the plot slowly but surely on track for the last seven episode of the first series.

#edvard's supernatural rewatch #spn rewatch #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #jensen ackles #bi!dean #Aspie!Dean #SPN 1x15 The Benders #spn 1x15

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skellebonez · 3 years ago

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16 & 26 with Huntsman X Sandy, LET'S GO

I HAD TO WRITE THIS IMMEDIATE AFTER EPISODE 8 I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS. YOU AND @kitkat1003 DID THIS TO ME. I WROTE THIS PAST 3 AM. I finished it in 30 minutes after I got online again. I want to write MORE so consider this just the start of another ongoing series of prompts I guess.

Obvious SPOILERS for S2E8.

I let you win./You don’t hate me.

Huntsman could not believe that he was doing this. But... everything was off. Nothing about what had happened since the Lunar New Year Festival had felt right to him, and after he retrieved the Demon Revealing Mirror his bad feelings about the entire situation was just farther confirmed. Now, however... now he had next to no trust in the person who was pulling all their strings. Not after her non-answer to his questions.

So now he was here. Out in the open. Back at the docks where he first got a good look at the man he had a recent encounter with. On the boat where he saw him and in front of his door. Huntsman knew he was inside because he had watched him come home.

He wish he knew what his name was, at the very least. He'd just been calling him Blue or Big Guy or something similar in his mind. Said as much during their last encounter. Hopefully what he had found after he had returned meant that there was at least still some good will in his direction from the larger man. Enough to make up for the fact he would have to ask for his name at least.

The door was right in front of him. He just... had to knock now. He knew how to knock, he could do it so quickly. He just... had to raise his arm...

And then his vision was a wall of blue and he let out a very unbecoming scream of surprise.

"It's you," Blue said, face a picture of... confusion. Not the immediate anger or suspicion that Huntsman had expected. It came after a moment however, a glower and a crossing of his arms. "It's you."

The spider demon couldn't help himself from tensing up for a moment, despite his best attempts at avoiding that, but it was only for a moment. He instantly stood up straight, clearing his throat before flourishing his arm with a chuckle. It came out shaky, more awkward than he had intended.

"Is that, heh... offer still on the... table?" He reached into his coat, pulling out the single teabag he had found stashed away in his pocket after their last encounter.

It took a hot second for Blue to react, but when he did it was instantaneous. He grabbed Huntsman by the coat collar and pulled him inside without so much as a word. Huntsman's first reaction was to pull back, fight back at the grip on his collar and then at the large muscular arms picking him up like he was as light as a rag doll, but he didn't. Instead he let himself be picked up, carried through the house boat and deposited on the couch before Blue sat across from him with a stern expression with his palm open.

Huntsman sat awkwardly for a moment before he realized what Blue wanted, and he held out his hand slowly. So slowly. He hovered above Blue's hand for a good few seconds, watching his expression before biting the bullet and opening it to let the tea bag fall into the large hand.

Before he knew it Blue was off and back again with a tray that held two cups and a hot kettle of water, and there was no way he boiled water that quickly he couldn’t have so he must have been making some already. He placed the tray down and began pouring water into the cups that held two identical teabags, one tag more torn and worn and dirty than the other so that must have been the one he had on him. Huntsman sat in silence, unsure of what to do aside from what this happen.

There were cats on the boat. Many cats, more than he could count. They didn’t come close to him, barring one. One that matched his owner in both color scheme and hair style, who sat on Blue’s shoulder and hissed at him threateningly.

Huntsman was not threatened by a cat.

“What’s your name?” Blue asked suddenly as he sat back, a wide smile with a hint of suspicion in the very back of his eyes. But the smile, the open expression, the willingness to give him another chance, that was far stronger. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you.”

“Uh... Huntsman,” he answered slowly, watching the steam lift from the slowly brewing tea between them.

“I’m Sandy,” Blue, Sandy, said without missing a beat. “What are you doing here so late at night, Huntsy?”

The spider demon froze, looking at Sandy incredulously. He had half a mind to tell him off then and there, to object to his name being shortened to something so... so... SILLY! But he didn’t. Huntsman was not stupid, he knew he was not a genius like Syntax (but, then again, how smart could the ex-human really be if he had believed that Spider Queen would not double cross him and bring him into the fold eventually), but he wasn’t stupid.

He remembered their fight. How strong this large demon was. He put Goliath to shame despite being of similar stature, there was something about this man that was hidden deep down somewhere that Huntsman could not see and when he admitted it to himself he had been terrified that Sandy would kill him at that time. He could have killed Huntsman. He saw what he did to the scenery around them. But he didn’t.

He let him go.

So Huntsman took a deep breathe and began to talk.

It didn’t take long for his explanation. Just long enough for the tea to finish steeping. He didn’t reveal everything, but he did say enough. Told him about Lady Bone Demon (Lady White Bone, White Bone Spirit, whatever name she was going by these days) and how she had been doing... something. How he had his suspicions for a while. How he was worried for his Queen.

“Do not misunderstand my intentions. I have no stake in your Monkie Kid group and quite frankly if Bone Lady wasn’t in the picture I wouldn’t be here,” Huntsman said firmly, picking up his tea cup as Sandy picked up his. “But I care for my Queen. And I believe she is in danger. I am no fool, I know we are enemies, but they do say ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’..” He paused, looking up at Sandy and maintaining eye contact with him. “And we have a common enemy.”

The cats that were hiding in the shadows had begun to slowly come out. Some were watching him from the shelves and cat trees. How in the world did everything in this house boat stay standing when he drove it?

“That we do,” Sandy agreed, again so fast and so simply. His willingness to listen to the spider demon put him off in a way, but in others... it felt nice to be listened to. As much as he loved his Queen there were times she just did not listen to him at all, Syntax and he did not see eye to eye on much, and Goliath... well, he listened usually. But he was even more loyal to Spider Queen than he was. He put total faith in her working with their extra member so talking to him had not gotten him far. “And after what happened at the festival and Monkey King’s island and all the other stuff? The others are going to take a lot of convincing. But I believe you.”

“You... believe me?” Huntsman asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “... You don’t hate me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. One he could not believe he was saying.

“Nope,” Sandy said as he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t hate you. But that doesn’t mean we’re allies, I know that.”

“... you’re weird,” Huntsman said with a scoff, rolling his many eyes.

“Says the spider guy who let himself be dragged into his enemies home at 1 in the morning to be sat down for ‘a cuppa’,” Sandy shot back with a small smile. There was the smallest bit of amusement behind it. “We’re both weird.”

“Touche,” Huntsman could not help but reply as he looked down at his drink. He couldn’t help but wonder in the back of his mind if it was poisoned. That’s partly what he thought when the last cup was offered in the forest. But Sandy seemed to heartfelt in his offer to have done something like that. He didn’t seem the type to boast about getting alone and not wanting to fight only to poison someone. So Huntsman kept hold his his tea and brought it up to his face. “But that still begs the question. Do we trust each other enough to do anything more after this?”

“Oh, I don’t trust you nearly as far as I could throw you,” Sandy laughed out as he drank the rest of his tea. “But I trust myself. And I trust my own judgement. And I think I can trust myself enough to work with you for the better of both of our friends.”

Huntsman didn’t say anything at that. He sat, staring at the tea for another moment. He... did not trust Sandy, not fully yet. He trusted him enough to not kill him, and so far that trust had been rewarded quite well. But much like Sandy he trusted himself. He trusted his own judgement. And he had chosen to come here of his own volition, by himself, to protect his Queen.

A cat wandered over, a calico, and jumped onto the couch next to him. It stared up at him with bright brown eyes, watching him intently.

“Why did you let me leave?” He asked after a moment. “I let you win, by leaving. But you could have beaten me regardless. Why?”

“I wanted to give you another chance. Everyone deserves that much. Everyone.”

Huntsman gripped his teacup tighter at this, staring at the torn teabag with Sandy’s face on it. It must have been his own special blend. His own special blend that he had given to him as an olive branch. A sign that he would listen. And he had listened.

Huntsman gulped and raised the teacup to his lips and gulped.

It was smooth. Bright. Slightly bitter but not unintentionally.

It was the best tea Huntsman had ever had in his life.

“... How much tea does that second chance get me?”

Sandy smiled, a different kind of something that was brighter and softer and less in his face, and something in Huntsman's chest jumped of it's own accord.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #huntsman #sandy #ship fic #silktea #this possessed me and wrote itself #I WANT TO WRITE SOMETHING MORE OVERTLY SHIPPY ASAP

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

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If Bella in a new moon entered the Volturis clan, what would her bonds with each member of the clan look like?

Alright, I think this can go several different ways depending on how, exactly, this goes down.

I’ll put down a likely scenario: Aro is generous, very much wants to do this favor for Carlisle, but Edward cannot be trusted to turn Bella.

Now, in canon, Aro was given Alice’s vision and thus a very good excuse to let them go.

Bella has only ever had two futures since Edward entered her life: either she dies relatively soon or she is turned. Namely, if Bella isn’t turned, then one day soon Edward will eat her. (I am not joking about this, this is what Alice sees in “Midnight Sun” she just... makes it sound very romantic and nice to Bella).

Bella will never make it to forty. Bella is simply fortunate in that, at least for now, this is the future she thinks she wants.

Regardless, when they get home Carlisle also makes it clear he’s stepping in. Bella is being turned after graduation whether Edward likes it or not, if Edward won’t do it personally, then Carlisle will.

As it is, Bella is in fact turned, we also just get this completely unforeseen event along the way: Renesmee.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Point being, given that Alice was there as well, while it was well within Aro’s rights to simply say “no, you know what, Bella is being turned here” and ultimately would have been better overall, I don’t see him making this choice.

Even had Alice not been there, and he insists Bella be turned in Italy, while I’m sure he’d make his offer for her to work in the guard after she’s a vampire, I’m equally sure he’d let Carlisle come pick her up in a few days after the transition is complete.

So, trying to imagine the world where Bella not only is turned right then and there in Italy, but does not follow Edward on to the next Cullen location...

I think the only way it would happen would be if Bella knowingly chooses without coercion to join the Volturi.

I subscribe to book Aro, who is a pretty classy dude. While he made an offer to Bella she easily turned it down and it was made immediately clear that there were no consequence to rejecting this. Aro was just throwing it out there (Edward is the one who goes off about making offers people can’t refuse).

So, if Bella had agreed believing she would die otherwise, given Edward and Alice are right there, I imagine it’d have been made very clear very quickly that Bella did not have to say yes. She has to be turned, sure, but she can go party with Carlisle to her heart’s content once she is.

So, why would Bella say yes?

Bella would... have to undergo the mother of all character development within twenty seconds.

In New Moon, Bella’s in a surreal world she can scarcely believe. Edward is back, he’s back and exactly how he used to be. None of it is real, he surely doesn’t love her, but she so desperately wants to pretend he feels something for her. For the first time in months, Bella’s not in the black, endless, pit of depression and she’s bracing herself for impact while also terrified she’ll end up right back where she was.

Bella’s priorities, in the Volterra encounter, aren’t keeping herself alive, looking out for her own future, or anything of the sort. It’s watching Edward every second she can because the moment she turns her back he will disappear out of her life and she will be back in that pit.

Bella’s desperation to keep Edward, to avoid depression, indeed colors her actions for the rest of the series. Bella is utterly terrified he will leave her.

This means in Volterra, even when she was 100% certain that Edward was about to leave her again and this would be the last time she’d ever see him, she is not leaving of her own volition. Even if it means standing there and listening to Edward tell the kings of his world that he will not turn Bella into a vampire, that she is so despicable to him that he would risk not only his own death but that of Alice’s and the entire coven’s just so that she will remain mortal, she’ll do it. Bella leaves Italy clinging to Edward for dear life.

So, I think for Bella to have said yes to the Volturi, she has to have one of those pivotal, cinematic, life altering moments happen in the blink of an eye. I don’t think Bella will necessarily realize anything profound, certainly nothing about herself, but I imagine her just having this thought, “I can’t go back” or “I can’t stay here”.

Bella believes Edward will leave her, it is a certainty to her, the culmination of everything she’s ever known or ever been. She goes back anyway, because she wants even those few last hours, but I can see something in her breaking in Volterra as Edward insists he will never turn her.

Bella can’t go back.

And the easiest way to never go back is to simply take Aro up on his offer.

And so, in a haze of surreal depression, Bella leaves everything she’s ever known to join a group she knows nothing about and whose cause she doesn’t understand.

Which leads us to, her relationships with all the characters (what you actually asked for).

So, up front, Bella’s gift isn’t so much useful to the Volturi right now as it is vital to keep out of the hands of their enemies and to maybe have on hand for the next Jane and Alec.

As a result, Bella really doesn’t have much to do, and I imagine becomes a sort of secondary bodyguard. She’s not as useful as Renata, but if someone like Edward comes by to visit (as he undoubtedly will given I’m sure his utter rage over Bella just up and joining the Volturi), she’s great to have on hand.

So, with that, and given how busy everyone else is (and to preserve my sanity with this too long post) I imagine Bella’s spending the most time with Renata, Aro, Caius, and Marcus.

Maybe Chelsea and Corin, since they don’t really get out much either, but probably not Felix, Demetri, Jane, Alec, or any of the others.

Renata

I’m sure at first Renata finds Bella the weirdest, saddest, person on the planet. For the first probably... year or so Bella will be a depressed lump who found the will to leave Edward and her human life behind, but what the hell is she now. This probably makes Bella come off even stranger than usual.

Renata also is probably getting major Uncle Luca vibes from Edward (and she’s absolutely right to).

So, I imagine Renata, being very sweet and working very closely with Bella, becomes determined to help Bella become an actual person. Probably with shoe shopping, because for no particular reason I’ve always headcanoned that Renata is a fashionista.

I imagine it takes a while, but eventually the pair become close friends.

Aro

Aro probably unintentionally ends up playing Bella’s therapist. He has no idea what to make of this either. Somehow, it works out for them. Even if he has to try to find polite ways to describe why Edward is the way Edward is (there’s no polite way to say it.)

Marcus

Marcus and Bella are depressed buddies. They sit in the garden and stare at nothing for hours together. Marcus thinks vaguely about the time he once had a wife. Bella thinks vaguely about the time when she believed Edward liked her.

They such low functioning beings that they can’t even understand shitty Garfield jokes.

Caius

Caius thinks having Bella is stupid, that Bella herself is the weirdest and most useless vampire he’s ever heard of, but does see Aro’s point in having her around.

He fundamentally doesn’t understand Bella. At all.

I imagine he just insults her constantly and Bella just stares blankly back at him going, “Yeah, I am a stupid and clumsy vampire.” And he just stares back, because that wasn’t his point.

Eventually, he just stops insulting her, because how do you even work with that?

#ask #anon #twilight

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