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#PRESENTABLE LIBERTY…. i have never even actually played

captain-joongz · 8 days

Text

A little show

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers

Word count: 9.6k

Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking

A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within

credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3

I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.

I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.

I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.

My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.

After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.

I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.

I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.

But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.

On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.

Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.

With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.

I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.

I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.

My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.

That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.

My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.

I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.

But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.

I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.

I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.

When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.

“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.

“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.

“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.

“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.

“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.

We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.

Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.

On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.

“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.

“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”

Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.

“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.

“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.

“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.

“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.

“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.

“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.

I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.

For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.

God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.

The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.

Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.

Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.

The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.

On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.

Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.

Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.

It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.

And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.

With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.

And I was not disappointed.

The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.

Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.

But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.

He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.

But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.

I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.

A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.

When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.

Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.

Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.

So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.

It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.

Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.

I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.

I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.

His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.

And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.

The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.

The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.

If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.

My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.

Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.

I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.

I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.

But not today it turned out.

Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.

Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.

“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.

I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.

Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.

I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.

Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.

Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.

Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.

I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.

“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.

I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.

“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.

He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.

Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.

Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.

I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.

“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”

My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.

With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.

For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.

Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.

“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.

“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.

Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.

Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.

I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.

“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.

“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.

“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.

“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”

“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.

“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.

“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.

There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.

The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.

He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.

The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.

Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.

“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.

“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.

His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.

The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.

I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.

I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.

“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.

“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.

Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.

My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.

“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.

“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.

We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.

“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.

“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.

“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”

I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.

“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.

Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.

When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.

“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.

“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.

“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.

“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.

“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.

I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”

The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.

“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.

“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.

I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.

“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.

“Sure, let’s go!”

Bonus:

“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.

“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.

“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.

As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”

“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.

“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.

Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.

I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:

“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”

“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.

Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”

#kpop fic #kpop smut #kpop fluff #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #suga fic #yoongi fic #suga smut #suga fluff #suga x reader

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bethanydelleman · 2 months

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Because today I woke up a chose violence, I'm going to point out everything wrong with this scene in 1995 P&P:

youtube

Upon seeing Wickham and Denny, Lydia crassly calls across the street and the gentlemen walk to her, though in the book she is not as vulgar.

All were struck with the stranger’s air, all wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement, when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot.

This change is likely an attempt to display Lydia's vulgarity, but it goes overboard. She has enough propriety to not call across a street.

Lydia suggesting that Wickham come to their Aunt Phillips' makes Mary give Mr. Collins this side eye:

However, Mary shouldn't even be present:

Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten: every sister except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them

This builds up the Mary/Mr. Collins ship, something the book does not do.

Only Bingley joins the party upon seeing the Bennets, though Darcy also joins in the book:

On distinguishing the ladies of the group the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger

Mr. Darcy not coming down off his horse to say hello makes him ruder than he is in the book.

Now here is the biggest issue:

Mr. Wickham touches his hat, Darcy just rides away. That is also not what happens:

Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know. In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.

Also, Darcy 1995 just freaking abandoned Bingley! That is very rude.

Does any of this matter? They are small changes but I would argue they are significant. Many people tell me that Mary was so in love with Mr. Collins, and her coming to Meryton and sharing a glance with Mr. Collins supports that theory. Darcy's strict sense of propriety is lost in these scenes, he's quite openly rude, even to Bingley! And Lydia is made worse than she is, she also insults Kitty:

Kitty asks if a bonnet will look good on her and Lydia replies:

Lydia never insults Kitty in the novel (though she does brag about her trip to Brighton). It's actually odd, since Kitty and Lydia are very close in the novel. 1995 makes their relationship more toxic than the book portrays.

Also, the actor playing Wickham was 38 during this mini? He looks his age here. Wickham is most likely 26 years old during the action of Pride & Prejudice.

But mostly, everyone tells me 1995 is SO accurate, but it does get important things wrong or different enough from the book that people remember them incorrectly. I just want to point out that this adaptation takes many liberties and isn't perfect. *ducks and runs away*

#P&P 1995 #adaptation problems #it's fine as an adaptation but it does make changes #especially to Lydia #so many people tell me Lydia steals from Kitty #not in the book!#pride & prejudice

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mc-lukanette · 6 months

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Luka did his best to make certain of things. He never wanted to assume, nor get in anyone else's way. It wasn't because he was meek or passive, rather he was simply happy where he was and would rather gauge people's comfort first, seeing whether they wished to approach him first.

But he could also take a hint, and he'd smash every guitar he owned if he was wrong.

It started when Juleka had told them that Marinette had put more focus into her personal projects and gave away certain presents she'd been keeping in a chest. He hadn't been sure what caused the change, but guessed that it must've been some sort of epiphany or major life choice.

That alone wouldn't have affected Luka beyond being happier at seeing her happier, but then she began to approach him more. She sat next to him when he played, peered up at him with her eyes looking extra blue, and asked if she could come along to help whenever he went to get everyone drinks so they could keep going with their conversation. All the while, she would look absolutely happy.

He arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence once to see her for a little creativity session, but the second Marinette's mother had called up that he'd arrived, there were rapid footsteps like she was moving around. He was encouraged to go up anyway, but he waited for all the noise to stop before opening the trapdoor.

He found Marinette sitting on her chaise lounge, one leg crossed over the other. She attempted to flip her hair - freed from her usual style - and only flinched slightly when it smacked her in the face. It was actually impressive how it was both clumsy and attractive of her.

Point being, she was blatantly gauging his interest in her, and Luka was indeed very interested.

He debated on what to do for a while. Asking her out was obvious, but he didn't have any experience. He'd been flirted with in school and confessed to once or twice, but he was never the one doing the pursuing, nor had he had a serious crush before Marinette.

He couldn't just do nothing though. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, a pleasant tingling sensation running through him at the thought of what that glowing face of hers might look like having fun on a date with him.

——

Luka arrived at the bakery, going through the side door as Marinette's friends were allowed to do in order to bypass the bakery itself. In his hand was a small, clear bag full of a few chocolate chip cookies he'd made.

While he was more used to cooking than baking, he knew that the actual quality wasn't important. Marinette loved using gifts and shows of effort as her way of expressing affection, which was what Luka set out to provide. He even caught himself smiling, thinking about them making horrible yet effort-filled presents for each other. They'd laugh about how silly they look, but ultimately keep each one.

He liked to think he wasn't an impatient person, but imagining the potential made him want to ask her out even more.

After ascending the stairs, Luka knocked on the trapdoor and called out, "Marinette?"

"Oh!" came a muffled voice from the other side. "Luka, you're here!"

There were some more shuffling noises, then a click as the trap door started to open. Marinette peered down at him with a smile, then gaped once he presented his gift.

"For me?"

He nodded, their fingers brushing as the tiny bag went from his hand to hers. She moved out of the way to let him in, Luka going into her room and taking a brief look around to see what she'd been up to. He could always feel her creativity spread through the room and it was one of his favorite things.

"Aw, they're so cute!" Marinette cooed, plopping down on her chaise lounge and raising the bag up to the light to admire it. "You made these?"

He nodded, though of course it was obvious that they weren't from a bakery. They were slightly misshapen and some had far more chocolate chips than others.

"Ohh, is this a flower from the Liberty?" she squealed, affectionately stroking the petals. "I almost don't want to eat any."

"Well—"

"I said almost," she huffed, already loosening the ribbon in protest. She took one cookie out, then retightened the ribbon to preserve the appearance.

Watching her, Luka warned, "They're probably not as sweet as the ones at the bakery."

"Please." She bit in and started chewing, only swallowing just enough to speak again. "I've had so many perfect sweets from my parents that all taste exactly the same. Give me imperfect ones any day."

He hummed, going over to sit down next to her. Though he wished to tell her that he’d make her as many as she wanted, he had to get past “step one” first. “Marinette?”

She'd just taken another bite, so she could only let out a grumble that she was listening.

Luka tapped his thigh in thought, mulling things over, then decided to just come out and ask, "...Are you doing anything on Saturday?"

It was her "free day" starting from when she'd tried to rearrange her life, but he figured he'd ask anyway. She dedicated it to "her time" usually, but had opened it up for him and only him on occasion. It was another - if not the - blatant hint.

Despite that, she pouted, squinting like she was trying to remember something. "Mmm, let me check..."

That was the second reason Luka had decided to ask her in her room: she kept her plans there. Marinette stood up, putting the rest of her cookie in her mouth, then wandered over to the center of her room so she could pull down her calendar and look at it. Her finger traveled across it to find the specific date, followed by a considerate tap.

She went to speak, but was delayed by the cookie still in her mouth. After swallowing, she admitted, "Oh, not yet, but I was planning to ask you out on a date then."

The atmosphere stilled, and so did Luka. He could see the moment Marinette realized what she'd said, her hand freezing in place on the calendar. He tried to say anything to comfort her, but what came out was more like a strangled laugh.

She beat me to playing the first note.

"W-wait! No!" Marinette turned, throwing her arms up and rambling, "I didn't mean—I mean, I did mean, but I didn't mean to do it now! My timing was off, you deserve better than that, and—"

"Yes," he interrupted the moment he could calm himself.

She paused, staring at him as if repeating the past few seconds in her head, then asked, "Yes that my timing was off, or yes that you deserve better than that... or both?"

"Yes, I'd love to go out on a date with you," he clarified, beaming up at her. Standing, he approached to be closer to her. "I was about to ask you out anyway."

"You—you—!" She gasped, jumping up excitedly and grabbing hold of his jacket. "Then yes! I want to go out with you too! I wanted to go out with you forever!" She tugged up and down on the fabric, still buzzing with energy, but halted at the realization, "Wait, but if I asked you and you asked me, does that mean we go out on two dates then?"

She was too cute. He wasn't sure if he could wait for Saturday, which suddenly seemed so far away.

"What about now?"

She tilted her head at him, curious. "Now?"

"Are you busy?"

She stepped away in contemplation, tapping her chin. "Mm... no? I think I finished everything I wanted to do." However, she pointed at him with a stern expression, apparently taking this situation extra seriously. "But, we'll have to go in sync down the stairs, or my parents will hear that we're both going somewhere. They won't be able to stop taking pictures of us!"

Luka weighed that in his mind, noting, "I could use a new wallpaper for my phone."

"L-Luka! You wouldn't!" Marinette shouted, blushing red at the mere mental image.

Their date today also suddenly seemed so far away.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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centrally-unplanned · 5 months

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I watched the Scott Pilgrim anime! I was deeply ambivalent, which I am sure is a shock to no one who knows me and saw it lol. I think I have a sequence of thoughts, so I will tackle the obvious one first to get it out of the way: Marketing, Adaptation, & Genre Drift in Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

Starting from top, if you don’t know, the Scott Pilgrim anime is not an adaptation of the original source material, but an alternate history version of the events where the titular Scott isn’t present for the majority of the episodes and Ramona Flowers is the main character. Which has been controversial! Not…amazingly controversial or anything, this is an extremely low stakes scenario and from my analysis the majority of people liked it. But controversial enough to get insufferable Kotaku articles “explaining the backlash” which don’t explain the backlash well. Let me see if I can do a better job - its fun to set low bars for yourself to clear after all.

The backlash starts with the marketing; really just the professional drama-trolls would have objected beyond an initial reaction to Netflix announcing Ramona Flowers vs the World; as a concept it makes a ton of sense, and it is essentially what they actually did (well, we will get into that). But that is not how it was sold:

“Join Scott in his fight for love, life, and rock!” I’d love to, still waiting for the invite! This is the first teaser for the show, and if you do a quick “frame count” it pretty equally privileges Scott & Ramona both, but Scott is still on top and it deliberately hides any sense that it is an alternate timeline. It even has this screenshot as one of its final moments:

Which I am pretty sure does not appear in the actual anime! If it does its in some flashback alt-timeline scene in a later episode, not its implied context (in the actual episode Scott ‘loses’ this fight). I can show more evidence - casting the original cast of the movie to make it seem like a ‘recreation’, statements by O’Malley where he plays deliberately coy with the idea of how similar it's going to be, and so on - but I think I don’t have to, because it was intentional, you don’t have to read the tea leaves on this. The bait-and-switch is part of the marketing, not an accident from it.

That is the step 1: people are thrown about being deceived. The step 2 is simple - this is a deception about an adaptation. I am someone who constantly complains about shows sacrificing cohesion & storytelling for “the twist”, but its too common these days to be that mad over it in a mass way. My designated punching bag over at Kotaku points this out:

This is a recurring theme for metatextual work like Final Fantasy VII Remake and the Rebuild of Evangelion films: initially they’re presented as retellings of beloved stories, only for it to become clear at some later point that they’re going to take more than a few liberties and tell a different story entirely.

The difference here is that FFVII and Evangelion are remakes, not adaptations. FFVII is a video game being made into a video game again; Evangelion is a tv show + movie being made into a movie series. The FFVII decision was controversial, but fundamentally you can just go back and play the original game; fucking everyone hated the idea of the Evangelion rebuilds being remakes because that is pointless, the originals have aged amazingly, and they had to deviate to justify their existence (they failed at that, but a story for another time). Meanwhile, Scott Pilgrim is a comic, that has never been a TV series, or an anime. There is the movie, but did you know a bunch of comic fans hate the movie? You see a lot of comments like these all the time (from a discourse reddit thread debating the new show):

Personally, I thought it was fun. I agree with a lot of your complaints honestly, but I don’t understand how you liked the movie? I can’t stand the movie because I feel like the characters are all flat, especially Ramona who has absolutely no personality at all.

I disagree btw, the movie is great, but it is a loose adaptation - hell it was released before the final volume of the graphic novels was finished, it has a different ending! A short, cohesive movie could never adapt a long-form, episodic graphic novel. And its live action, stylistically very different. So this TV show was both branded as, and was expected to fulfill a demand for, a first “real” adaptation of the comic, that people wanted. The fact that Evangelion deviated in its remake is a poor comparison. Questioning that people want full adaptations of works they enjoy isn’t really worth our time.

Now I personally don’t care about the above two - I am explaining the debate, but they aren’t problems for me. Step 3 is where I start caring - I think Ramona Flowers vs the World is a great idea. They thought they made that, and I wish they had. But in the process of telling the bait-and-switch of the story, they also bait-and-switched the genre. There is this great quote from O’Malley about the original graphic novel’s story from an interview (whose headline we will revisit in another post, don’t you worry):

Yeah, I mean, when I was writing Scott Pilgrim the first time, I just wanted to come up with a very simple story engine: fight, fight, fight, get to the end. That gave me something to hang all this other stuff on, all this slice of life hanging out in Toronto.

Its such a nice summation of what Scott Pilgrim is - the fighting against the evil exes? Its all sizzle and jokes, none of it matters. Its a plot device to structure the real story, which is a slice-of-life romance drama, coming-of-age narrative, and extremely intimate portrait of Toronto’s scene of indie music venues and hipster coffee shops. The joke is that Scott is dealing with all this crazy video game/anime shenanigans on top of actually having to navigate very grounded past emotional damage and present challenges of adulthood. The heart of the comic is not the fight scenes, some of which literally happen in the background while other characters are talking, but scenes of a group of friends hanging out at 11:00 PM at a dive Korean restaurant:

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off meanwhile is not built around this cast. Its built around a mystery plot and Ramona Flower’s evil exes, who she is investigating, and Scott Pilgrim, uh, checks notes travelling to the future and fighting his …aged enraged alternate self from the original timeline…? Anyway, Ramona’s evil exes are mainly joke characters, comic reliefs who engage in crazy shenanigans. Half of the episodes are structured around them, and their episodes are filled with extended comedy bits and very-long fight scenes. Episode two has a 13 minutes long fight scene between two of them, including build-up, over control of the League of Evil Exes. Hell, they don’t even live in Toronto - a ton of the new anime takes place in New York City and a bit in California. The comic meanwhile has panels just…explaining locations in Toronto sometimes:

Listing the hours of operation, its so cute! The anime has no time for this in between its sci-fi plots and fight scenes, and its far cheaper for it.

The decision to focus on shallow characters like Ramona’s exes is downstream of the decision to focus on Ramona without Scott -besides the exes the rest of the characters are Scott’s friends, who Ramona gets to know through him. Which is the final point here - who are the characters people love from Scott Pilgrim?

All of Scott’s friends ofc. Characters like Lucas Lee are memes, not people. Obviously Kim Pine, Young Neil, Knives Chau and so on appear in the anime. Sometimes they have great scenes - like the adorable scene of Knives & Kim playing music together, Knives’s first time really trying to jam:

Which goes absolutely nowhere from a character perspective - Knives & Kim barely interact after this. It sets up Knives doing a comedy-meta musical for the plot, sure…but that’s boring in comparison to real emotional connections, Knives doesn't have an arc. But they can’t have more, because our main character Ramona Flowers doesn’t know these people; she wouldn’t just hang out with them, and she is busy with her mystery investigation. She sees them when she needs them for plot reasons. Kim and Knives and Stephen Stills are much flatter this time around (Julie, to her credit, kicks ass in this one).

Obviously I could point out that Scott & Ramona’s relationship in the anime, given that they have literally one date before Scott vanishes, has no depth to it, but that is easy. The funniest way to summarize this character issue is if you check the tags on Tumblr right now, you are going to be awash in Scott/Wallace shipping posts. Like I swear, at times its straight(?)-up 50% of the posts going on, its a rabid gay horde out there lusting for this sugar daddy/baby dynamic. Which makes sense, they have so much sexual tension & emotional depth as friends…in the comic. In the anime they barely know each other! Wallace hates Scott and interacts with him maybe a half dozen times, primarily to tell him to move out, then does his own shit. This is all people projecting comic!Scott/Wallace onto the current show.

There are more downstream consequences of these decisions & other issues (like the overdone meta elements, or abandoning most of the indie-music aesthetic) but this has gone on long enough. The point is that telling a different version of the story would actually be fine. It would disappoint some fans, sure, but if done well you would likely win them around. Hell, the original comic’s ending kind of sucks, good time to polish some things. But if you change the main character and the genre and the cast focus and all the character dynamics…at a certain point its just its own new story now. A story irrevocably tied to the old one, but not about any of the things the old one cared about. I think you can see why that would be a harder sell than Ramona Flowers vs the World, even if it was a good zany action comedy anime in its own right. You will get backlash from this level of drift - and you will deserve it.

Also fuck Lisa am I right? Jeez, 0 out of 2 for moving picture adaptations. What you get for being blonde I guess.

#scott pilgrim #Ash adaptation analysis #essay

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drconstellation · 8 months

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Thoughts on Drinks in S2

Updated 10 Nov 2023

I thought I might put together some of my rambling thoughts on all the drinks that appear in S2 in general, since there are far more of them than food. I believe the hot chocolate is just as important as the coffee choices and some just make interesting comments.

Tea

Tea only makes a brief appearance, notably when Muriel visits the bookshop and meets Azriaphale. It is an introduction to the ways of humans. The only other tea we see are the offered herbal teas of peppermint (stimulating) or chamomile (a relaxant) to Maggie by Nina, and we don't know which one Maggie chooses.

Sherry

The request for sherry in the pub is, quite simply, hilarious, even without the Lady Bracknell ad lib. In Australia, where I am from, and I believe the UK as well, sherry has a long tradition as a ladies drink. And one wouldn't be adverse to have a nip or two (or more) while doing the cooking with it. If you haven't seen The Importance of Being Ernest performed, not just read it, you really must make the effort. (Coincidentally, I was taken as a teenager to see a version where Lady Bracknell was played for comedic effect by a man in drag. I loved it, and have never forgotten it, or the cucumber sandwiches.)

Wine

In S2E1 we have Nina reaching for the comfort wine while trapped in the coffee shop. She offers Maggie some, but she declines, and offers "No judgement."

Then we have some romantic wine in 1941, and some potentially romantic wine back in the present. Or is it?

Why don't you just talk to Gabriel, suggests Aziraphale. Alright, I will! declares Crowley, pausing only to take the wine bottle with him. The next thing we see is him ready to pass his Judgement on the amnesiac archangel.

Edit: I missed quite a bit of wine my first time around! There was two lots of wine in the Job minisode, and that was quite judgemental as well.

What, you didn't bring the wine, angel?

Then later in the cellar, while the storm rages, Crowley does find some wine and proceeds to enjoy the fruits of his demonic work while having a moral argument with Aziraphale.

Hot Chocolate

Ah! Ohohoh! The hot chocolate! Jim-short-for-James hot chocolate! I think it is very telling he is offered it by both Aziraphale and Crowley. The first gif sees him drinking while overlooking the Outside and a reflection of "give me coffee" in the window (this is the start of S2E3.) He is walking a different road to the others, one protected and facilitated by A & C. The coffee isn't for him, its for Other People. He gets his own special stash of the Good Stuff, labeled and everything. Privilege for the Frog Prince, sheesh.

Edit: Several times I've tried to explain the Choice of the Hot Chocolate, and I've actually replied to someone here about it in the mean time in a way that I'm happy with - here is most it, below:

Most of us get the two options, coffee, or death. But Jim has been given a third option, and he has grabbed it enthusiastically with both hands. Aziraphale has handed it to him in spades, even! That much will take a long time to get through, wouldn't it. It's a big generous gift, that Aziraphale understands well. Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he instinctively knew Aziraphale understood what he needed. Mr 'six-shots-of-espresso' loves his freedom, or liberty, and his life here on Earth. The humans who line up for their dose of Heaven every day do, too. Death is the option-that-is-not-an-option. It's duty. It's the tax we all have to pay for living. So the Metatron turns up and offers Aziraphale a coffee to one who doesn't drink coffee. Essentially the Metatrash offers a choice that isn't a choice. Aziraphale's only choice is to do his duty at this point, or else...well, we aren't shown it, but it seems the 'else' was too terrible to contemplate. (Or, as some people alternatively see it, the Metatron kept pushing until he was offered a carrot he couldn't refuse.) But Jim, he's been give the option that Aziraphale and Crowley really want, but can't quite have at this point. Freedom to love as they want, and openly in front of all Heaven, Hell and Humanity. They understand. They don't judge Jimbriel for this, they actually encourage it - they both make it happen right under the Ineffable Bureaucracy's noses in the end! The irony of it! They give their arch-enemy the gift that they dream of. I'm very tempted to digress off into a discussion about the two glimpses of authority we get from Crowley and Aziraphale in S2E6 at this point (Crowley yelling at the demons prior to the attack on the shop, and Aziraphale shouting at the Ineffable Bureaucracy representatives arguing what to do about Gabe and Beez in the shop to shut up,) and what it might it might tell us about their pasts. Because, as others have noted, Gabriel and Beelzebub have that freedom to be together in front of everyone because they have power - they are essentially the top ranking beings in this AU. They can do what they want with little fear of consequences. And I guess the Metatron didn't step in to intercede at this point because he essentially wanted Gabriel gone from the picture, and this was a convenient way to do it. So yeah, the sweet hot chocolate is Gabriel's special option, facilitated by Aziraphale and Crowley. He doesn't have to drink what the plebs drink, the bitter devotional duty to Heaven.

Whiskey

The demon drink. Fire water. (Maybe...enough said? Not sure...I've got dots to spare here...fire...and water...hmm...where have we seen that before...)

Coffee

Give Me liberty Coffee, or Give Me Death!

Six shots of espresso in a big cup for Crowley - lots of freedom for the demon.

The humans line up every day to get their ration of free will.

Regarding the Metatron's coffee offer to Aziraphale, the best explanation I've seen of it is here. The almond syrup signals that Aziraphale is being watched, and to me he is being offered a choice he can't refuse. He has no option but to accept it. In regards to the oat milk, I've seen a suggestion that it was a reference to Aziraphale being too free while on Earth and having a chance to "sow his oats." Also the purpose of offering it was to see if he was compliant enough to follow orders when asked.

Coffee shops have historically been a hotbed of foment, where new ideas were discussed, business conducted and rebellions started.

Finally there's a special mention for Gabriel and Beelzebub with their "intoxicating liquor."

Which they didn't. They got to make their own choice, in the end, thanks to Aziraphale.

Extra edit:

The Laudanum

I originally didn't include this one, but since posting this I realised how it fits in. I've written it up in this meta here - The Altar of Eccles Cakes, - because its a Sin Offering.

[A Sin Offering was for] atonement or unintentional sin. It would have the elements of a Burnt offering, as well as a Peace offering, but not be shared.

It pretty clear to most observers that Crowley did a good and "kind deed" for Elspeth here, which angered Hell in the process and then he was dragged forcibly downstairs to be duly punished for it. There is a post here from atlas-hope that suggests this is a parallel of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, drinking the cup of God's wrath to absolve Christians of their sins. They point out the laudanum is even poured into a goblet. Crumbs, that's a hefty bit of spiritual lifting, dear demon. What were you thinking, Anthony J. Crowley? It might cast that conversation you had with the carpenter back on the mountain in a new light, or least make us look back twice at it. (Plenty of time for contemplation before S3 arrives...) Remember, a Sin offering has elements of both a Burnt offering and a Peace offering: a giant Crowley gets Elspeth to promise to devote the rest of her life to being "properly good, not just pretendy good" and the money Aziraphale is forced to donate to her ensures her future prosperity. Sounds like a win-win situation there, Elspeth!

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the-emeralds-incorrect · 23 days

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modern au emeralds playing stardew valley (I’m playing sv i love this game I’m almost on year two of my new save that I made after 1.6 came out)

[creative liberties are maybe taken. I’ve never played multiplayer (btw if someone wants to play w me hit me up) so I don’t know what’s different. I’m relying on google searches]

They do the community center, obviously. Fuck Morris and Joja Corp.

Dorcas and Pandora were the first ones to find the game like, a year before 1.6. They have a few saves together, but mainly play on the hilltop farm on one that is in sixth year currently. It’s beautifully decorated, mainly by Dorcas. Dorcas first married Leah, and Pandora first Penny (for the decor, she chose strawberry but heavily debated the forest and moon one as well) and Hazel, before finally they got their shit together and confessing irl and immediately marrying each other.

Dorcas loves fishing and it’s always her first skill mastered fully. She always does that part of community center insanely fast. She also knows all the secret fishing spots that give you presents with decorations for the house.

Pandora’s favourite part is maxing out friendship with everyone, she likes doing tasks. She also loves collecting artifacts. She made the mistake of giving up their first prismatic shard to Gunther before they knew about the desert sword thingy. Dorcas likes both farming and animals, Pandora fucking loves the latter.

When 1.6 comes out and multiplayer up to eight people becomes awailable, they nag Evan, Barty, and Regulus to buy the game and start playing. They choose the meadowlands farm, ofc (“No, we’re not getting wilderness, Barty, Pandora wants chickens from day one!”).

Barty is actually the only one of the boys to have any knowledge how to play beforehand. He spent like a week straight watching YouTubers so he has a decent grasp on the basics of the game. He did not get to the Ginger Island part.

Regulus has the wiki open for the entire time. He also buys the book that shows you prices of things the first time bookseller comes (he saw the event on the calendar, checked what it means, and saved some gold up). He finds out on a solo save that he loves cooking, so they update the house as quickly as possible.

Evan’s very much winging it. He gives random gifts to NPCs and refuses to check wiki to see what they like, just relying on their reaction to see which ones he shouldn’t give them. He remembers Pandora rant about a few of them and makes a point of giving Louis, Pierre, and Clint gifts they hate. His sister finds that hilarious. He’s also the one doing the farming; he doesn’t focus on how much money it will give them, but what Regulus needs in the kitchen.

Evan is also insanely good at Journey of the Praire King. “What the fuck how did you beat it second try.” “What, like it’s hard?” (The only hard/annoying part were the hoards of ogres from stage 1, after he beat that, it was easy. He doesn’t even play these types of games often.)

Barty absolutely loves the Mines and Skull Cavern and is in charge of everything fighting-related. He makes sure they always have enough coal.

I don’t see any of them being interested in minmaxxing it. Weirdly enough, maybe Barty, on like one solo save, but it’s not a priority whatsoever. They’re just here to have fun

#hope you enjoyed #marauders #harry potter #hp #marauders era #slytherin skittles #the emeralds #regulus black #dead gay wizards #barty crouch jr #pandora rosier #dorcas meadowes #evan rosier

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swearingcactus · 4 months

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OC INTERVIEW : Lil V :)

thanks for the tag @v-eats-bugs (and @elvenbeard's post that reminded me that I have yet to do this even though I was tagged!) get ready for your local little guy answering some of your q's (this pic was supposed to just be a cover but it does make him look like he's answering these before bed in his jammies, which could fit too)

🔸Name?🔸 "Contrary to popular belief, it's not a pasta brand, but I would neither confirm or deny any guesses."

There's been wild rumors that he's changed his name to Vitoli or Viagra (Jackie's fault for that one) but nope, his name's still Vincent. His last name's Woodman or some other boring generated name hospitals print out for babies with no parents claiming them, so he never went by it. Great decision on his end, cus "Vincent Woodman-or-similarly-boring-sounding-last-name" sounds more like an accountant than a cool merc.

🔸Nickname?🔸 "Just V."

Before Atlanta, some 'friends' burned him and used him as scapegoat for a gig and he landed in prison because of it. His efforts to erase the records and leave much earlier than his sentence bankrupted him; but he got out and decided to wipe his slate clean. What better way to start a new life than with a new (technically just chopped down) name?

🔸Gender?🔸 "🤨📸"

Cis male. But he thinks it's weird if people gotta ask that.

🔸Star sign?🔸 "Aw fuck, I gotta ask Misty for that, I keep forgetting which one I am. Hang on."

This is totally not a cop-out cus i haven't played phantom liberty and therefore am still unsure when is his canon birthday. Either way he doesn't care about it that much.

🔸Height?🔸 "5'8 which I've heard is 173cm."

173cm is NOT 5'8, he's lying or simply getting it wrong, and frankly for night city denizens, that's more amusing to ponder than his height.

🔸Orientation?🔸 "Oh ;) I'm not picky! ;) heheh wait i mean 🤨📸"

Sometimes his excitement at the prospect of getting laid by hot men and women makes him forget to act cool and nonchalant about being bi.

🔸Nationality/Ethnicity?🔸 "I mean I'm pretty sure I gotta be somewhat white, but never knew the detes. Not gonna pay a corpo for them to tell me about it either, cus what do they know?"

He has a paler complexion, but sometimes his features on the right lighting kinda play tricks on you. With him being from Heywood and no parents to speak of, he has no idea if he could actually be part Hispanic or Asian or any other ethnicity. Obviously, he could pay to get some 2077 "hyper-accurate" version of 23andMe but he thinks that's bull and way too easy to fake. Totally just that and not cus he gave up on the idea of biological families anyways, nope.

🔸Fave fruit?🔸 "I dunno, never really had anything 'ganic 'cept some grapes and they were really sour, so probably not those. Pears are okay, I guess."

🔸Fave season?🔸 "Winter. Atlanta sucked but they had better winters."

Atlanta's winter was colder than Night City's, so the idea of spending the holidays just cold and broke with crippling loneliness sounded too horrible. He attempted to avoid this by treating himself to a 'real' white christmas experience, tried ice skating and making snow bunnies when it did snow and got hot chocolate and even bought himself some overpriced present and all that. Atlanta didn't work out, but he did like winter coming out of it, and he gets nostalgic of it when the holiday season come around.

🔸Fave flower?🔸 "Sunflowers. Oh, but cherry blossoms are really pretty too, even when they're just holos."

He doesn't tell this story much, but when he got out of prison, the field next to the road was riddled with dying sunflowers. Nothing welcomed him out of the gutter but those shriveled plants right next to ones that were done blooming couple weeks ago. If he had been able to get out earlier, he could've seen at least some of them in bloom. It should be a bitter thought and memory, but he found walking next to them very comforting. He has a soft spot in his heart for them ever since.

🔸Coffee, tea, hot chocolate?🔸 "Well not coffee, and not tea, so I guess hot chocolate it is. Actually, you have that iced?"

He used to think he's a coffee guy but dating Kerry made him realize the canned coffee he drinks are just sugar with a hint of caffeine flavor. (he hated the black ganic stuff Kerry drinks but powered through that One Time) In general though, he likes cold drinks more than hot ones.

🔸Average hours of sleep🔸 "I'd like to say 8 but I know that'd be lying. Probably closer to 5 or 6."

Don't get him wrong, he gets on the bed. He just scrolls his phone for hours after and doesn't sleep immediately when he gets on it is the problem. He falls asleep closer to 2-3AM, then wakes up at 8 or 9. This is a real issue if he stays the night over with Panam at camp, since the Aldecaldos are mostly early birds.

🔸Dog or Cat person?🔸 "Oh cat, definitely. Have you seen my cat Nibbles?" *queues up 100+ picture slides of her directly to your holo*

🔸Dream trip?🔸 "Antarctica, maybe? Heard it's kinda peaceful over there, and it'd be even colder than Atlanta so hell yeah, could get all cozy, bundled up and waddle around there for a bit."

🔸Fave Fictional Character🔸

to reiterate this post , he found a copy of Toy Story 4 and made fun of how Duke Caboom sounded like a chipper, Canadian version of Johnny. Then the whole 'guy who failed a stunt and got thrown in the trash because of it, is actually deeply terrified about the entire experience but still continues to be a happy dude' hit too close to home.

🔸Number of blankets they sleep with🔸 "??? People sleep with multiple blankets??"

Just one. He gets too cold even with it when he gets even sicker from the relic, so he sleeps with fuzzy socks too now. The idea of two blankets for one person never occurred to him.

🔸Random fact🔸 "Okay, I'm only gonna tell you this 'cus I'm back in Night City, and enough time has passed that no way anyone can actually get anything to stick to me... but back in Atlanta, I used to crash weddings. Not even for gigs, was just trying to avoid spending eddies on meals. It's really easy to just sneak in, especially if you wear some black cardigan, or flash a digital lanyard, or just walk really fast and with purpose. They just assume I'm part of the event organizer or one of the catering team, and let me in. Then you just act like you've been invited, grab a plate and mingle with some guests who don't look important. Was better entertainment than BDs too, hearing all the stuff about the bride and groom from different tables. Sometimes I just let slip some gossip I heard from another group to the current one I'm mingling with, and shit would hit the fan real quick, which means I get to delta nice and quiet. I wish I could stay for more of 'em, Atlanta weddings end a lot more in fist-fights than Night City ones, that's for sure."

Yeah so he might not know or realize this detail, but he most definitely was the reason those fist-fights happen and was part of the reason for the spike in divorce rate in Atlanta for a bit.

phew that was a lot of words. no pressure tagging @mail-me-a-snail @glitchinginthegarden and anyone else who'd like to join but haven't been tagged! :)

#lil guy v #askingcactus #drops some elusive additional lil v lore and runs

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witchy-rook · 10 months

Note

Please ramble more about the Treacle Mine revolution!

Thank you for asking! I'd be happy to!

But before I start, just for your convenience and anyone else's, I'm gonna link my answers to the two previous questions I got because it's become somewhat difficult to find them. Anyway, as always: spoilers ahead for Discworld generally but the Guards series in particular!

Now then, the Treacle Mine Revolution...What a revolution! Pratchett has a phenomenal capacity to capture what Revolutions actually feel like and how they progress, at least in my experience reading historical sources about them. Although I have no doubt that, to a certain extent, Pratchett is drawing on British history for much of the foundations of Ankh-Morpork's own history, with some Classical elements thrown in there for good measure, I think from the point of view of the city's Revolutionary History, we need look no further than the most famous (and infamous) of revolutionary lands: Revolutionary France.

Specifically, if you look at the history of Ankh-Morpork's various revolutions, I think you see a sort pastiche (if you will) for France's own myriad revolutions. There's a lot more going on in these books than a simple ripping of French history (nor is French history even the only history they're ripping!), but I think it's worth diving into the real-world comparisions clearly at play here.

Let's roll back to Feet of Clay for a second. In this book, we learn a lot about Vimes' lineage, and specifically the baggage he has inherited from 'Old Stoneface' Vimes. We learn that Old Stoneface was involved heavily in the revolution which ended the line of Ankh-Morpork's kings (certain present members of the Guards perhaps notwithstanding), and not only that, but Old Stoneface was the man that swung the axe that killed the King.

Now, I don't think it would be too much of a reach to compare this to the first French Revolution: the one of 1789 and the eventual beheading of Kings. Granted, the French Revolution is by no means the only time that Kings were beheaded, but I think it's notable for our Ankh-Morpork comparision because it was one of the first times that was done to put a kind of democratic system in place. I'd argue that the Patrician seems like more an oligarch than a president or prime minister, but I think this is also because, amongst its many influences, Ankh-Morpork and its neighbouring cities on the Sto plains are clearly vibing off the medieval Italian city states. Hell, one is even called Genua.

Anyway, with that context in mind, let's fast forward back to Night Watch. The thing you'll need to bear in mind about the first French Revolution (and the reason I brought it up at all), is that its status as a 'Triumph of the People!' and a victory for 'universal liberty' etc etc is actually quite disputed. You have to remember that, initially, all the Revolution did when they stormed the Bastille and what not is, essentially, apply a Constitution to the King - now this was still pretty avant-garde by the standards of European politics, but the British already had a Constitution, so it wasn't exactly wholly novel. Things moved in an increasingly republican direction in subsequent years, capping off in 1793 with the literal capping off of King Louis, but the legacy of the French Revolution was always rather up for debate, especially given that it ended with Napoleon, a self-styled Emperor. So if you're wondering why France saw countless revolutions thereafter, it was because, from a republican/radical perspective, it was a project that had never really 'properly' finished. Whether France should be a republic or a kingdom was something that was up for debate constantly throughout the 19th century.

Enter: the Paris Commune. I don't have the time or, frankly, the qualifications, to dive fully into the Paris Commune, because it's a little outside my time period, but suffice it to say that this event is part of the long legacy of French revolutionary politics stretching back to the first Revolution and, to some extent, the birthplace of modern socialism. As I mentioned in one of my other posts, it's probably the thing you think of when you imagine an urban revolution at all. Barricades along the streets with flags and banners flying? The Paris Commune wasn't the only one to do that, but it sure was one of the most famous.

And I think the parallels with the Treacle Mine Road Republic are very stark (I bet you thought this was just another historical tanget!) We only get a patchwork knowledge of what happened during the Treacle Mine Revolution the first time around, mainly from Vimes' attempts to pre-empt what he remembers from the history, but that's enough to build a pretty clear picture. We know that the Revolution started in response to rioting and military massacres elsewhere in the city; we know that the People barricaded Treacle Mine Road and its adjacent streets to protect themselves; we know that the military attempted both a kind of siege and an attack on the barricades; we know there was a kind of sense of community amongst those inside the barricades.

To me, this reads like a very clear analogue for events in Paris during the Commune. Granted, the reasons for the Commune were different, and the real Paris Commune last over 2 months, but the kind of 'city within a city' that is depicted in Night Watch did happen, and while I'm sure the Paris Commune is not the only example of this, it's a pretty damn good analogue.

And again, what's most interesting to me about the Treacle Mine Revolution, as I alluded to in my other post, is that, much like the Paris Commune, it was a failure. It was not the actions of the revolutionaries that led to change in Ankh-Morpork, it was the actions of political conspirators and hired assassins. But despite this, the revolution is clearly important in the minds of at least some Ankh-Morporkians, even if it's mainly just those who were involved. Perhaps some of them, like their own real-world counterparts, consider this a project that has still not 'properly' finished? Nonetheless, this sense of importance is true of many political events in our world, the Paris Commune among them: they may have been failures, but that doesn't mean they weren't significant.

So! To wrap up with some kind of conclusion, I think the Guards series frequently touches on the idea of historical legacies, but Night Watch is especially interesting because, through Vimes, we get to live through the formation of that legacy. And, if you were ever interested in reading more about this kind of thing, I'd highly recommend you look no further than France and its colourful, revolutionary history!

#discworld #the glorious 25th of may #night watch

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transmutationisms · 11 months

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do you have any recommended readings on the fallacy of the ‘industrial revolution’ as a historical turning point?

so, i wouldn't say that the industrial revolution is a "fallacy" or that the term never describes a real historical change. it's generally accepted that the textile industry in northern britain did experience notable structural and technological change over the course of the 18th century, and that by the turn of the 19th century a combination of social, economic, colonial, and technological factors had allowed for the appearance of a new industrial-capitalist class in this context. this is not an unimportant economic development.

however, there are a few major issues that routinely crop up in secondary literature on this 'industrial revolution', and are especially pernicious in literature published in the late 19th and early-to-mid 20th centuries.

first, the wider application of a model of economic change derived from this specific episode in history. within shifting frameworks of state protection and global economic competition, cloth merchants in a few counties in the british north were able to change their business practices, including by investing in certain machinery. this was simply not universally true, though. it was not true for all industries in north britain, let alone industries in other countries, even other european powers. narratives of the IR that present this model of industrialisation as some universal process that all economic sectors in all contexts are bound to experience (or else perish) are trying to use as a totalising model what was actually a highly contingent and specific historical episode.

second, the techno-determinist bent of a lot of IR literature. technology in itself does not make social change; in the case of the textile machines in question here, many of the technologies existed well before the period we identify as the 'industrial revolution', but could not become widely used until a number of other social and conditions changed. for example, you might need certain technicians to maintain machines and operate them; you need someone to manufacture the machines themselves; many of the machines we associate with the IR required a shift toward a production model resembling more the factory floor than the individual weaver or seamstress working out of their own domestic space. a technology existing is not synonymous with, or causal of, its widespread adoption; machines on their own do not explain or cause mechanisation.

third, the role of british nationalism and neoliberal agendas in much of the IR historiography. this led to a great deal of literature presenting the IR as a triumph of 'liberal democracy' over 'state regulation', with corresponding valorisation of britain's supposedly weak state (not true; economic liberalism has always involved quite a bit of state protection), culture of 'individual liberty' (lmao), and enlightened institutions of democracy and scientific objectivity (& the techno-determinist narrative plays in here, obviously). this view was especially spearheaded by von mises and hayek in the 20th century.

fourth, the model of global economic change as emanating from britain (on more expansive models, also from the us and parts of europe) and spreading to the rest of the world in a unidirectional way that completely ignores and obscures colonial dynamics and workers' resistance in favour of a simple narrative of techno-economic progress and stadial history. relatedly, the fact that even in the northern british counties where the IR proper really can be said to have occurred, the events we now see as part of a smooth overarching narrative were experienced at the time as random, disconnected happenstance dependent on, again, a dizzying array of social and cultural factors as well as the decisions of communities, workers, and merchants.

some people do eschew the term "industrial revolution" altogether, generally citing some combination of the above issues. others use it in a temporally and locally restricted sense, or with heavy caveats; some continue to use it in ways that perpetuate one or more of the problems i've outlined here. generally it is agreed upon that industrialisation matters, as a historical process, and has occurred with particularly rapidity and specific characteristics since the mid-to-late 18th century. what's at stake is more the idea of a 'revolution': whose, when, where, how, and with what consequences.

anyway:

the industrial revolution: the state, knowledge and global trade, by william j ashworth

africans and the industrial revolution in england: a study in international trade and economic development, by joseph e inikori

fossil capital: the rise of steam power and the roots of global warming, by andreas malm

technology in the industrial revolution, by barbara hahn

reconceptualizing the industrial revolution, ed. jeff horn, leonard n rosenband, & merritt roe smith

heroes of invention: technology, liberalism, and british identity, 1750–1914, by christine macleod

#industrial revolution #book recs

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kirbyluvr69 · 9 months

Text

Some Thoughts™

About control and other complicated things

As of late, my obsession with The Beatles and, specially, their inner lives and relationships has left me thinking...

We all know John Lennon was bisexual, or as Yoko put it, had 'desire' for other men, but, as she also put it, never acted on it. But I don't think that's quite true. I think the first thing that comes to mind when you're presented with this information is "Why would she say this?", why would she out a dead man that, from the looks of it, never wanted this part of his life to be public? Well.

We can all have varying opinions on Yoko, but I think we can all agree that she was a controlling force in Lennon's life, be it for better or for worse, it doesn't really matter. Just take a look at John's Spotify bio:

"But it was only after his marriage to artist Yoko Ono in 1969 that the figure the world now recognizes as 'John Lennon' truly came into being."

That's the important bit. She takes care of his estate, It'd be silly to think she wasn't involved in writing this. She's, also, telling the truth.

John Lennon was never just 'John Lennon'. He was first 'Lennon-McCartney' and later 'John & Yoko', and both times it was his own choice. He can say whatever he wants about being stifled by Paul, he wanted to be stifled, controlled, being told what to do, but at the same time he didn't. Control was how he showed love and how he received love, first from his aunt Mimi, then from Paul, and lastly from Yoko. He was also a deeply jealous and angry man, and what is jealousy if not the need to control?

It might seem paradoxal at first, his need to be controlled but also hating it. But it's actually quite simple. John was the type of person to believe he was worthless, that everyone that he loved was destined to leave him, that he would die alone. These types of thoughts make people, in general, lash out at their loved ones, test their limits, their loyalty "Do you really love me? Would you love me at my worst? Would you love me even if I hurt you? Why won't you believe that I'm a terrible person? I'll prove it to you." and so forth. We should also remember that he was a hopeless romantic, that believed in destiny and love at first sight. He was desperate.

I think Yoko fed him the exact type of control and liberty that he needed, wrapped around a veil of occultism and self improvement. And a very specific public image.

The first time John had his public image controlled was in the beginning of The Beatles by Brian Epstein, someone that John was also famously fond of and who's early death, in my opinion, was the beginning of the end for the band.

John and Eppie's Holiday in Spain is very well documented with some conflicting information on whether or not they actually had sex, but that doesn't matter in my opinion. John is also quoted as saying:

"I like playing a bit faggy, all that. It was enjoyable, but there were big rumours in Liverpool, it was terrible. Very embarrassing."

And I can imagine why being perceived as a 'homosexual' in the 60's in the UK would be terrible and embarrassing, even if he liked it. The problem in his mind was his image as a straight guy and not really what he was doing, whatever it is that he did while in Spain and away from everyone. Also, John was surrounded by a lot of gay men during his life, hence the picture that opened this post of John and Elton, one of his best friends, a godfather to Sean and the person that Yoko asked to complete John's music after he died, he refused and she later released them unfinished — you can find this tidbit on Elton's autobiography Me.

And so, why would Yoko say that his desires toward men were never consummated, and she cites specifically with Brian, if we have proof of the opposite?

It's about control. Not only control of John's image but control of her image as well. She knows more and more people are coming out and saying things about John's sexuality, things get a bit muddy and she has the opportunity to give a definitive answer, and she chooses the one narrative where she comes out as the good, free-spirited artist, the cool wife. He confided in her and she was supportive, but he also loved her too much to do anything. She could've said nothing. She could've said that this part of John's sexuality was none of our business, it was none of her business. But she chose to not only confirm it, but to say that he didn't to anything about it, not even with Brian.

If John had lived, I don't think he would've said anything about it, he was a ball of repressed feelings until the very end. Or maybe I'm wrong — I'll admit, he was getting better. But I doubt that their marriage would've lasted much longer anyway, who knows if she would still be on the Spotify bio.

John Lennon was a complicated man. That's all I'm saying I guess.

#meta #can you call real peoples lives meta?#im psychoanalyzing john lennon thats what im doing #im psychoanalyzing yoko ono thats what im doing #john lennon #the beatles #brian epstein

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moe-broey · 3 months

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Got any music you listen to for any FEH characters? Be it for vibes or brain animatics?

WAH.... I'VE BEEN......... SITTING ON THIS ..... mostly cause I worry my answer might be a bit lacking 🧍

I have. A small handful of songs that make me think of Alfonse! Some are silly, some not! In no particular order:

I Earn My Life - Lemon Demon

> THIS ONE..... IS SO FUNNY TO ME...... but it is so painfully Alfonse-core........ to me. Esp lines "I learned it from my father and my father never lied" and "I wouldn't be so worried if I wasn't always right". Biting him. Killing him, even

Devil's Train - The Lab Rats

> Not a direct one-to-one (it is a specific ass situation song and I love it for that) but! This one is so Book 3 to me... if any of these are animatics in my brain material it's this one! Esp if it's following the Alfonse who would become Líf... I also think it captures the generational cycles that are present with Alfonse, Gustav, and Grampa Askr as well!

Ghost - Mystery Skulls

> Some are more Líf leaning tbh LMFAO but! Speaking of! I've mentioned it before, but Lewis was actually a huge inspiration/reference for me when learning How To Draw Líf -- sorting out how to simplify him, get him to fit more w my cartoony style, and how I want him to look body-type wise (big broad guy!)

Also the way I emphasize heart motifs on Líf is very inspired by Lewis! While also trying to simplify the shapes/taking creative liberties and running with them LMFAO

So Ghost is like. Yeah I think the lyrics can fit! But there's Deeplore here too LMFAO

Sex With A Ghost - Teddy Hyde

> This one is very just vibes/up to interpretation. It also feels like a companion to Ghost LMFAO

Cupid - Jack Strauber

> THIS ONE. IS ANOTHER SILLY ONE. BUT. Hear me out. I get such a strong mental image when I listen to it. Bruno just dumped him/ghosted him. Alfonse is face down ass up laying flat on his bedroom floor. He's been playing this song on repeat for at least an hour. Sharena tentatively checks in on him very "Are ya winning, son?" but she knows he fucking isn't. I think it also captures the feelings of heartache and regret of letting someone in and getting hurt for it. AND AND it's because of THE CIRCUMSTANCES. Lamenting The Circumstances -- "Cupid, how could you be so cruel?"

Fist Bump - Sonic Forces themesong

> SONIC THE HEDGEHOG JUMPSCARE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ It is. So fitting though. I am ALWAYS thinking of him when listening to it...........

This December - Ricky Montgomery

> This one..... is so him...... it makes me soft. If you check out any of these I def recommend this one!!! And Devil's Train, both are also just so fun to listen to in a Music That Sounds way (I like the flow!)

I could have SWORN I had more but........... I never made a complete collection...... honorable mention to The Black Parade and a handful of MCR songs tbh (This Is How I Disappear feels very distinctly Líf, I Don't Love You honestly could be either depending on the circumstances, Famous Last Words feels a little more Alfonse-leaning). I think if you introduced Alfonse to MCR it WOULD rearrange his brain chemistry, it Would be the closest thing he's had to therapy. And in addition to music I would introduce him to personally, I think The Wonder Years is another good one (but all of TWY's stuff feels so deeply personal... like diary entries and poetry.... cannot be entirely Blorboified. To me)

#ask answered!#everyone is legally obligated to be nice to me. or just give me an odd side-eye and move on LMFAO #there might be more alfonse/lif coded songs in three cheers for sweet revenge and maybe even danger days #but three cheers for sweet revenge is actually the one i've listened to the least. it's good!#'i'm not okay' being my fave from that album that one is like a brother to me #but i am SUCH a danger days bitch. that one is my fave of the three (black parade is SO GOOD TOO THOUGH)#also upsides is my fave twy album. i am switching between upsides and danger days constantly #going through hell is valid. going through hell but having some bite and fight to it is SO good #and been THROUGH hell and now you're having a good time w the sharpness you gained or maybe you're just not sad anymore. BASED!!!!!!!!!#ANYWAYS I. HOPE THIS IS SATISFACTORY 🫡#i. don't have the strength to maintag. if this leaves my circle i'm blowing this whole building up

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

Text

luck be a (leading) lady | part 11.

[Posted 2022.09.29]

Summary: Y/N has always been a background character. That’s just life for some folks isn’t it? But what if she’s determined to not just be another member in the ensemble? What if someone helps her step into the spotlight in her own special way?

Warnings for the Series: a teeny bit of angst but mainly fluff, slow burn

Pairing: ricky bowen x black!reader

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: I’m thinking 3 or 4 parts left after this. It won’t go much further in the story than when Ricky and the reader actually get together.

A/N II: My writing style in this isn’t my favorite but I never realized how hard it would be to do hsmtmts as a series fic. I still love the plot though so I’m going to see it through but serious thank you to all the readers that enjoy this story because I’m honestly not sure about my own writing here.

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

“EJ, care to share why we aren’t in a stretch circle right now?” Kourtney asked through a yawn.

“Corbin and Channing need more.”

“More?”

“Just some reality style juice to bring everything to life.”

“What EJ means is that the docuseries and the musical are getting canceled if we don’t bring some pettiness to our performances,” Carlos explained. “So the three of us spent all night, and well into six am, making a plan. I present the RCOSL.”

“What?” Ashlyn just stared at the first posterboard in confusion.

“The Real Campers of Shallow Lake? I thought that was pretty self-explanatory.”

“Look, it’s easy,” EJ encouraged. “You know how as real people we pick up on social cues and other people’s feelings?”

“Do we?” Gina asked pointedly.

Carlos cut in after EJ faltered. “Anyway, forget being nice. Think of the three Bs. Bombshells, betrayals, and bitch slaps.”

“Look I love the real housewives but we’re students not millionaires. We have no money to burn or kids to blame, so how are we pulling this off?” Kourtney asked.

Jett leaned back in his seat. “Can I be Team Kourtney on this one?”

Carlos sighed and showed the next posterboard. “Here’s how. Everyone needs roles and we’ve already taken the liberty of assigning them. Play your part to a T.”

No one was quite sure about the plan but if it saved the show then they would consider it. Although, they were starting to wonder how much of these roles were completely made up. Some seemed a bit personal. The judgy one, the jilted ex, the one with a dark past, the crier, the one who's here for the wrong reasons, the one the audience pities, the one with a catchphrase, the shrink, the bad boy, and the instigator.

“It’s a formula and the formula works,” Val said with a nod.

“Isn’t this a little tawdry?” Kourtney asked.

“I was going to say the exact same thing,” Jett spoke up from behind Kourtney.

“And that is why, Kourt, you get to be the judgy one,” Carlos said.

Val slapped Kourt’s picture up on the board underneath the label that read judgy. Everyone else started getting parts assigned. Jilted ex— Ricky. Dark past— Ashlyn. Crier— Maddox. Wrong reasons— EJ. Pitiful one— You. Catchphrase— Gina. Shrink— Val. Bad boy— Jett. Instigator— Carlos. Everyone else could pick who they would stick by throughout the show.

Ricky and Gina looked at each other. Gina raised her hand. “Um, is giving Y/N the role of being the one the audience pities a good idea?”

“Of course,” Carlos said. “She doesn’t even have to act, it limits risks of everyone messing up the less actors we have. It’s why I’m the instigator. And Val’s the shrink because she’s a psych major.”

“Oh, good, so we aren’t stretching for these parts,” Kourtney said.

Carlos pointed at her. “Good. I want a lot more of that energy today.”

“Wait, why is it less risk?” Gina was focused on that part.

“Because her social anxiety and the fact that she never gets the lead despite having enough talent is the perfect thing for the audience to root for.”

Ricky sat up. “Dude, that’s not cool.”

“People have to be exploited, Ricky. Why do you think you’re the jilted ex?”

“I’m not jilted.”

“But you are an ex, just play it up.”

Ricky’s nostrils flared slightly but he dropped it. Everyone started to get a bit excited about the idea, mainly Ashlyn and some of the ensemble. It was just another role. Besides, everyone knew that reality tv wasn’t all that real. They listened to their four goals for the day. Cry, Slap, Throw a drink, Get caught saying something scandalous on a hot mic. Aside from the drink throwing, it seemed easy enough. Even the drink wouldn’t be too bad— they just had to find a scenario that called for drink throwing. Carlos had already organized how the slap would be done. At some point they’d have an exercise on fake slapping for theater and someone would just “accidentally” hit someone else. It was brilliant. Now, they just needed to figure out who was willing to take a handprint to the cheek for the team.

They were all working on slaps and other things while waiting for Corbin and Channing. Maddox and Ashlyn were backstage trying to figure out a way to make Maddox cry. She wasn’t someone who could just turn on the tears. Nothing Ashlyn was suggesting even made her think about crying. Carlos walked by.

“We’ll work out the kinks… I know! You two are in love with the same boy. How about…” He looked around. “Oh, Jett! Perfect, everyone loves a bad boy. You both are in love with Jett but he’s obviously in a relationship with Y/N— But he’s looking at Kourtney. We get a love triangle and a potential cheating scandal all in one. We might actually be better than the housewives.”

“Jett? Oh, God, no,” Maddox protested but Ashlyn was so in.

“Oh, God, yes. It makes sense that I, with a dark past, would be attracted to the bad boy.”

Carlos called Jett over to explain. “Jett, do you know Maddox? She has the hots for you.”

A mix between a laugh and a scoff escaped his mouth. Before he could protest, Carlos held up a hand.

“And so does Ashlyn. But you have the hots for Kourtney which creates a problem and is the source of mega angst in your relationship with Y/N.”

“Woah, we are not d—”

“Channing is here!” EJ yelled. “Let’s practice Kristoff and Anna first so we can get some good ex stuff with Ricky and then we’ll move into Young Anna and Elsa for Carlos’ diva moment.”

Carlos left before Jett or Maddox could protest about his idea. They both looked at each other and shuddered before getting to where they were supposed to be for the camera. You could feel the tension when you finally made it to The Barn for rehearsal. Everything started to go wrong as Alex and Emmy rehearsed the scene where Young Anna and Young Elsa created Olaf for the first time. Carlos had started complaining and the two girls who you watched be friends were suddenly at each other’s throats about who was in charge of the snow.

“Is this supposed to be fake snow?” Carlos complained. “Because it looks like sea salt.”

“Emmy’s the one that grabbed the wrong prop.”

“Me? You’re Elsa, shouldn't you be in charge of all the fake snow?”

You stepped in between the girls. “How about I be in charge of the snow? Remember what you learned as part of the Guppy Troupe.”

“Arguing about the problem doesn’t solve the problem,” the three of you repeated.

“Perfect. So since I’m the Principal Snowflake, I’ll make sure the snow looks better and spread out more. Deal?”

The two girls muttered an “I guess” and stepped aside. Val was waiting to see your dance planned for Anna and Elsa building Olaf. You wanted to make it simple and really highlight the girls since they wouldn’t be onstage for pretty much the rest of the show. You took off the booties protecting your ballet shoes and showed Val. It was really simple. You planned on starting behind Carlos. Emmy would toss snow and then Alex. Since Alex was Young Elsa, you thought that was when you would spring to life. In between the two girls you would do a couple of balancés to grab each bucket.

“And then just simple soutenus as I throw snow, maybe a pique when I toss the buckets off stage to Maddie. Oh and all in demi pointe since Elsa’s powers aren’t very developed yet, so I wanted to use my standard ballet slippers instead of pointe for the first bit.”

“That sounds decent,” Val said.

“Decent? That’s what she came up with? That’s it?”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you looked between Carlos and Val. Was the routine that bad? It wasn’t the top of your skill set but that was the point. They knew that. They had seen your work before… Well, they hadn’t. No one showed up to watch you in The Nutcracker and you weren’t sure they ever bothered to watch the performance video of it. Maybe they did think this was the best you could do. You felt your breathing start to get a bit shallow. Ricky closed his script, putting his focus on you.

“Carlos, I said it was decent. Decent means we have time to workshop it. The rest of the routines aren’t like this are they?”

“You think Clara could put together something better.”

“I-I wanted the girls to sh-shine so—”

“Then what’s the point of having a principal snowflake? And where were you earlier? We had to push this scene back you know, we did Ricky and Gina song first. It’s not even close to the top of the show.”

“I told EJ.” You gestured feebly to the director. “I was working on the dances and I had an audition fo—”

“An audition?” Carlos looked around you to focus on Val. “She isn’t even focused on our show.”

“Carlos,” Ricky cut in.

“Were you doing something else, Y/N?” Val asked you.

You stuttered through another sentence about EJ knowing.

“Are you always this unfocused because we can talk about it some other time but right now the show is our priority.”

“She’s always like this,” Carlos added. “Not to be an instigator but that’s why she’s never been more than principal dancer. Her talent is probably the best but she thinks she’s better than everyone just because she’s gone pro.”

He said the last bit in an exaggerated stage whisper. EJ winked at Carlos and Val, knowing Channing’s camera wouldn’t catch him in frame. This was going great. You could feel your face get hot as it got harder to take a proper breath. Ricky watched your fingers tremble as you tried to clasp your hands together. You took a couple steps backwards when the tears started. Both Jett and Ricky moved towards you— Ricky reaching first— to stop you from accidentally falling off the stage.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ricky barely got the words out before Jett was moving him out the way.

“Don’t bother her more. Y/N/N, look at me.” Jett held your shoulders. “We’re going outside now, okay?”

You hit at your chest.

“We can breathe better outside.”

You followed Jett’s lead to stand on the porch of the barn. Inside, they were still rolling with the scenario. Ashlyn turned to Maddox.

“Doesn’t it suck that he went to go help her? I mean I guess that’s his girlfriend and all.”

“They aren’t dating!” Maddox blurted out.

“We can only dream, Gadget, can—”

“She’s our cousin!”

“I k— wait, what? Our cousin, you and Jett…”

“Are siblings, yes! He’s the literal worst but he’s still my brother. I never want to date him, oh, and I’m gay.”

Maddox stormed backstage to the props table. She was okay with the reality script just not okay with anyone ever insinuating that she and her brother would be a thing. Channing thought he got enough footage for the day and started to pack up most of his film equipment. He told the cast they needed to take a picture for promo. He’d be back shortly to show them the preview for the documentary to drum up interest in people watching the musical on livestream and also to watch the docuseries when it came out. EJ went to go get you and Jett for the picture. Ricky lit up at hearing Maddox’s words.

“Wait, they’re cousins?”

Even Carlos looked surprised. “My straightdar must be broken. Can we all agree they were definitely the grumpy sunshine trope?”

Everyone nodded their heads. You came walking back in, immediately moving to sit next to Ricky. He was on the edge of the group and you didn’t want to be smushed in between everyone. It felt too claustrophobic at the moment. He wiped at the tear stains to try and make them less visible for the photo. Ricky looked down when you reached for his hand, barely lifting his head in time for the shot. While everyone else was discussing what to do next when Channing returned, Ricky took you outside. You both sat on the bench attached to the barn’s porch.

“Carlos didn’t mean anything.”

“I know, it’s for the reality show. Jett told me.”

“I can’t believe you two are cousins.”

“Of course we are. Why do you think I talk to him and Maddie with no problem? We’ve known each other since diapers.”

“Everyone kind of thought you were dating.”

You gagged. “Jett? Ew, really?”

“You can’t blame us.”

“Yes, I can. Come on, Maddie, Jett, and I are obviously related.”

Ricky raised his eyebrows. “Obviously?”

“Same smiles.”

“When have we ever seen Jett smile?”

“Okay, fair enough,” you said with a laugh.

“Hey, what audition were you talking about?”

“Oh.” You picked at your booties. “For the ballet. Saltwater always holds auditions in summer for the first musical and ballet of the season but most pros are on tour so they can send in videos. Normally I do it in person but they moved up the date this year. I need to send it in by the day of our show or I’m not auditioning.”

“What’s the show?”

“The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.”

“Really? That’s awesome. Are you going for Susan or Lucy?”

“Do I look like I could pull off either? Don’t even think about mentioning Clara again.” You chuckled when Ricky closed his mouth. “I was thinking maybe The White Witch? They showed us the costume designs and part of her solo.”

“Well, whichever one you want. It’ll be perfect. Hey, do you wa—”

“Y/N! Can we talk? Like sister time.” Gina stood in front of you.

You gave Ricky a half-smile but he just brushed it off and encouraged you to go. You walked with Gina through the camp just so she could walk and talk. She was going through a somewhat rough patch with EJ. He was a bit tense this summer. But she was more pissed that he seemed to be confiding in Val instead of her. It wasn’t even jealousy over Val. It was the fact that maybe he didn’t trust her enough to say anything.

“I just didn’t think my summer of firsts would involve my first boyfriend fight. We’re not even fighting. It’s like one-sided confusion.”

“Maybe,” you started to suggest very carefully. “You need a break.”

“What?”

“Not forever. Just until the end of camp? EJ is going through a big transition in his life and it’s very clear what you want and where your boundaries are. It’s not like I’m saying go explore other options. Sometimes, you need alone time to figure out what you really want. You know what you want, G, but maybe he doesn’t? Or maybe he doesn’t know how to get what he wants?”

“You think a break would help?”

“I think if you explained it clearly to him. Who knows, you might not even need the break then? Just talk to EJ, he might not even realize that he’s making you feel this way.”

Gina gave you a hug. “This is why I love sister time. I’m gonna miss staying with you.”

You laughed as you hugged her back. “You act like you’re leaving Salt Lake. It’s just your mom coming back to town, you can still come over for breakfast just like Ricky.”

Ricky went to go figure out something while you talked to Gina. He was pretty sure he saw a little campfire area with almost proper log benches and some bushes. Instead of seeing an empty bench, he saw Jett sitting there.

“How do you always manage to find my hiding spots?”

“Dude, don’t.”

“You okay?” Ricky sat down next to him.

“The blow-up Maddie and I had back there wasn’t even the half of it. She’s seen me as the bad guy for most of her life, she doesn’t think I was playing a role today. Forget it.”

“Why don’t you try to show her you’re sorry? You can’t be all that bad.”

Jett huffed. “I see why you like Y/N, you two have the same blind optimism in people.”

“I don’t l—” Ricky didn’t even bother finishing as Jett walked away.

Carlos passed by. “Is he…”

“Oh, he’s fine. It’s about him and Maddox.”

“Thank goodness. I just found Y/N. I had no idea she didn’t know about the plan, I thought someone would have filled her in.”

“She knows now. And you killed it today.”

“Thanks,” Carlos said with a smile. “So did you. Jilted ex suits you, bro… Oh, oh, I said bro and now you’re probably going to reveal something.”

“It’s possible I wasn’t completely acting. Except I don’t know if I can be a jilted ex if I never got the chance to be an ex.”

Carlos turned his entire body to face Ricky on the bench. “Wait? That wasn’t an act today? You and Gina—”

“Gina? No. We’ve always been just friends.”

“Then who? The only other girl I see you wi— wait, are you gay? Are we talking about EJ, Jett?”

“Close to Jett— I like Y/N. I’ve been trying to be just friends but I’m slowly failing. I think I more than like her. Is that crazy? I couldn’t even say it to Nini but with Y/N... I think I love her, Carlos … What?”

Carlos pointed, with wide eyes, behind Ricky. “I guess that covers the hot mic scandal.”

Ricky looked to see Channing running out of the bushes. He squeezed his eyes shut. Did Channing just catch his confession on tape? This was bad. The entire world was going to hear it. You were going to see it. Ricky had to face the idea that he was going to have to tell you. It would be better for you to hear it from him than from a documentary. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You had so easily told him about your past crush on him… but you had said it like it was nothing. You got over it but Ricky wasn’t sure he could get over his. He had no clue what he was going to do.

(part 12)

THIS FIC TAGLIST:

@mishtay @ifilwtmfc

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107

#hsmtmts fic #hsmtmts #ricky bowen x reader

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mx-lamour · 8 months

Text

Alek Gwilym in our Curse of Strahd campaign:

We found Strahd's journal in-world, so of course we all read I, Strahd by P. N. Elrod.

We were all pretty taken with Alek Gwilym. But wtf happened to him after he disappeared? (The module apparently doesn't even include him. So our DM took some creative liberties.)

It's so complicated. It's great, but... yikes. It all begins with Vampyr, of course. Vampyr is an evil entity that was able to escape its prison within the Amber Temple by tempting Strahd into the deal that changed him and locked down Barovia.

Alek overheard the ordeal. Strahd ended up killing him, drinking his blood, and locking his body in a closet. Later, Strahd discovered that Alek's body had disappeared.

This is how our campaign addressed what happened next:

Vampyr took Alek's body to use as a puppet. He altered the body to look like a Dusk Elf, and somehow replaced people's memories/knowledge of Alek with... Rahadin. Rahadin has that screamy madness mind thing because it's Vampyr pulling the strings there, and Vampyr is a powerful old entity that snacks on despair. Trying to peek into that mess would drive you crazy.

Okay, so that's Alek's body... and a better role for Rahadin than just a weird Renfield stand-in like he seems to be in the mod book. (I was told there's a part where he eats toads? For like, no actual reason?)

What about Alek's soul? Does it get recycled or something?

In the Amber Temple, there's a clockwork robot guy. He's chained up and broken. We ask him what his name is and he just says "Pain." But we find out it's Alek. It's Alek, tortured and broken and in this weird form, but Vampyr hasn't been able to eat away at his soul like he has with other Barovians.

We find out Alek's soul is protected (to a degree, anyway) by the Traveler. The Traveler is the only deity actually truly present in Barovia, because they're Neutral and travelling is literally Their Thing. You can't keep the Traveler out of anywhere.

It was a really cool thing to find out, because I'm playing a trickster cleric whose patron is the Traveler. It retroactively gave me a cool in-game reason for my absolute craving to find Alek and get him back into the story. Like the Traveler was nudging my cleric toward him.

So, we discovered "Rahadin" is actually Alek's body. We found Alek's soul. And we are on friendly terms with the Abbott near Krezk, who is outright a Celestial entity.

I was wondering how exactly to get Alek's body out of Vampyr's control. How to get Rahadin out in the open again, and how to fight something that was clearly out of our depth...

But I'm happy to report that we did manage it. We are now (finally?) officially on Strahd's shit list for "murdering" his steward, and we're cut off from the towns now, but... Worth It. We're nearing the end game anyway.

As of now, we've brought the pieces of Alek to the Abbott, and asked him if he can put Alek back together. He said it'll take about a week to do it right. (A horribly long time to wait in-world at this point, but again... worth it.)

Alek Gwilym will be resurrected.

My hope is that he will help us defeat Vampyr. That's right. Not Strahd. We're not fighting Strahd. We're going at the root of this thing. We're taking on Vampyr. Honestly, I'm hoping (betting) we can (with Alek's help) get Strahd to fight Vampyr with us. Because Vampyr has been screwing Strahd over since the beginning of all this, too. In his weakest moment, he was driven to murder his most loyal ally. He never gets his "heart's desire". He's as much a victim as the rest of Barovia, despite his power.

It's time to undo what should never have been done.

Vampyr's reign began by Alek Gwilym's death. It will end by Alek Gwilym's life.

#i sure hope that sounded as cool as I thought #curse of strahd #creative liberties #alek gwilym #i strahd #vampyr #amber temple #stralek #the traveler #combining characters #strahd von zarovich

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mrsbakashi · 2 years

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B, D, E, T for Itachi plz💕

hi, anon! i'm guessing you're requesting for the a-z dirty headcanon because someone liked that post and 5 seconds later this showed up on my askbox, soooo we'll do it that way. and also because i have zero energy to do the fluff version as well.

ITACHI

⚠️ c.w.: +18, bondage, dom itachi (but also sub itachi - just slightly)

b - bondage (do they like it? do they not? do they prefer to be the one being tied or the one doing the tying?)

itachi and bondage are two things that match so much that when you think of one, you instantly think of the other. he lives for it - tying you up, obviously. he actually spends a good amount of time learning and practing new knots. to be honest it's not really about the sex, it's more that you trust and love him so much you're willing to let him tie you up completely and immobilize you. he loves how you moan a little everytime his hands touch your skin while he works on the knots, making sure they're not too tight so they won't hurt you. loves how impatient you get eventually, because he could and would spend hours there. always starts with your wrists.

d - dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a dom? do they have a dom that they trust already? what kind of things do they enjoy as/with their dominant partner?)

itachi is a natural dom. it's some sort of gift, it comes with the sharingan. this trait of his is present not only during sex, but in every other moment. because he's a soft dom he's more focused into actually making sure you're comfortable and okay, though he won't hesitate in punishing you if he feels the need to - he usually doesn't. he's just the kind of guy who will make sure everything is perfect in the tiniest details for you - but by his standards. if you say something is fine, but he doesn't think it's fine, then it simply isn't. and the man's a perfectionist. and you know better than to complain.

he needs to be in control, that's it. that's why during sex he'll usually just tease and overstimulate you, never giving you what you want only so he can hear you begging and crying for him. but the truth is that he needs to feel needed, in every single way a person can be needed and more.

i also have this theory that he's kinda switch (only occasionally), because i believe that sometimes he shows his fragile side and all he wants is to be taken care of, to let you take control and show him that he is loved, he is worthy of love, and with that he is completely submissive for you, completely given to anything you want to do - he's yours.

e - extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

i am a strong believer that itachi loooooves lingerie. like he will spend a lot of money and time buying lingerie for you, because he just loves the sight and feel of lace on your skin - it drives him so crazy that when he brings a new piece for you he can't barely sit still while you try it on. most of the time you have to surprise him if you want him to actually see how they look on you. he spends more money at victoria's secret than you.

also loves watching you strip, but again, can't barely stand still and never waits for you to finish the show - he's all over you before you can think.

also, not a dirty hc, but since we're talking about extra info and clothes (kinda) itachi loves wearing matching outfits with you - i'm talking those really cliche cringe ones. he just loves sharing that with you.

oh, and breeding, obviously. he's an uchiha, you know the drill.

t - top or bottom (self explanatory…)

we kinda talked about this on the dominance hc, but itachi is always a top. even when he's submissive. it's like he'll try to top you from the bottom 🗣️ he's just not built to be a bottom (at least in the way i see him).

taglist (i took some liberties) - @ittachiii @smutteedreams @justmyownreality @madarasthicc @knightofmight @hashira-mal @nightingaleflow @thetimelesschild @allyallygator @ur-latibule-blog

fill this out to join my taglist

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stitchlingbelle · 10 months

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Oh, I'm SO curious about your Untitled BatB story! Is there anything you're comfortable sharing about it?

I actually posted the WIP ages and ages ago, I just need the motivation to go edit it and revamp the second half-- it's a retelling of Disney's (animated) Beauty and the Beast, trying to merge it with the 18th century court aesthetic and make sense of the royal politics of it all. I'm pretty fond of the first half, which is Belle's childhood and how they ended up in the "poor provincial town". It just needs a pass to work on the language a bit, etc. But the parts of the story from the film itself need work. I think I need to take a few more liberties with the film, especially the dialogue, to keep it in line with the first half, instead of the other way around. (Essentially, serve the fic instead of narrowly reproducing the original.) I'd also like to expand the epilogue, which deals a bit more with the prince and the king...

I admit, one of the reasons I tried this ask game was to try and motivate myself to go back and give it a shot!

This bit introduces Maurice, and mentions the real-life automaton that inspired the whole thing:

Eventually, she found her way to her father’s workshop. Like many others of the great of the land—even, she had heard her aunt mention, the king himself—her father was fascinated by the possibilities of clockwork and automatons. The Princess Royal had just been presented with one fashioned like a great lady seated at a dulcimer, which played several lovely tunes just as a real musician would. Her father, being the son of a wealthy merchant himself, was more interested in practical inventions. But Isabelle found the idea of such animated objects enchanting.

Today, he was working on his little boat—a scale model of a clockwork-driven ship he dreamed of building. “Ah, ma Belle,” he would say, “if only ships were big enough, they would laugh at storms. And with enough power, they would be fast enough to cross the sea in weeks, instead of months. Imagine it!” And Isabelle did.

For once, he did not look up as she entered the room. She had to knock on the wall, and he father startled and lost track of the spring he was holding. It erupted from his hand, followed by several gears and other pieces. He yelped, and Isabelle giggled. “Well!” he replied, “that’s sympathy, is it not? I did not know you were back. Come, help me find all these widgets.”

She joined him on the floor until they had collected all the errant pieces. “And now, ma Belle, what is it you desire? Did you have a nice trip to Mass with your grandmother?”

“It was cold,” she answered truthfully, and he laughed, a little strangely.

“It is winter, Isabelle.”

She sighed. “I do not think Tante likes me,” she admitted.

Her father went quiet for a moment. “Where would you get an idea like that?” he asked at last.

“She does not talk to me, like you and Maman and Grandmere all do.”

He gave her a reproving look. “And I have told you, ma Belle, that most adults will not speak to children as we do to you. You are clever, and we delight in you, but it is not the normal way of things. You should not expect her to share your interests—after all, you do not share hers, do you?”

“I love poetry as she does,” Isabelle replied seriously, “but lately all she speaks of is the Vicomte and other people I do not know.”

There was another moment of quiet. “Someday, you will know many people like the Vicomte, and you will need to understand politics as your aunt does. It is the way of the world. Your mother…” he trailed off.

“When will she be well, Papa?” Isabelle asked.

At that her father put down the tool he was holding and turned to face her. He did not smile, but took her hands and looked into her eyes. And then he told her she never would.

#BatB #fanfic #my work #wip

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