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#and so many scenes - not only in this part but throughout his performance in this episode
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"You know, in the theatre we have to examine the internal logic of all our actions."
Sir Charles Cartwright playing detective.
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barryroyco · 4 months
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okay so in my opinion, if you compare hugh laurie’s performances in each respective plot, house never had feelings for cameron. there is absolutely no romantic tension on his part, and i believe that he played it that way on purpose. because if you watch how he acts in scenes where house is supposed to have tension with cuddy, it’s night and day how different he is. hugh laurie acts with his whole being—face, body, voice, he’s putting his all into every scene. his romantic tension with cuddy was as intentional as his lack of attraction to cameron.
so moving past what we know to be canonical, if we compare house’s chemistry with cameron to house’s chemistry with cuddy and bring in the matter of house’s chemistry with WILSON? the tension he brings to certain scenes? the scenes where maybe there’s a “joke” about them being gay/in love/having sex? in many of those scenes, hugh laurie—who we all know can play the shit out of a comedic beat—chooses to not play it as a joke (best example would be the “you’re sleeping with me” scene and a lot of the amber plot. it could have easily been played for laughs, but hugh laurie played that shit dead serious). i think, based off of what he’s actually said about house and wilson’s love, and how down he was for hilson, he played it that way on purpose. i believe he wanted that for house, or at least wanted to make sure that it would have a solid foundation if they did somehow decide to pursue the plot line. i am so sure that the tension he created in scenes with wilson was intentional. because he matches intensity levels with only cuddy, a little bit of stacy, and wilson throughout the show. there’s no way that’s an accident. hugh laurie is too good for that.
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gayofthefae · 2 months
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I love Mike's behavior in seasons 3 and 4 on a rewatch because the first watch is "Mike is so in love with El that he accidentally ignores Will", but on a rewatch, it's "Mike is spending all his time with El to avoid Will....what is he running from".
It's interesting, too, because I've made a post about this before, though that one was more about how it's framed to the audience and in Will's perspective, though I'm just now realizing, it might be in Mike's too:
Throughout season 4, it is repeatedly emphasized rather than the fact that Mike is going to El that Mike is leaving Will. It is not romantic that he is choosing El, it is tragic that he is leaving Will behind, so we come to think of it this way too, because Will does, but like I said...I think Mike might too. Afterall, his avoidance of Will on that first day is clearly purposeful and conscious, which means it's a flip of the original interpretation of season 3: his seeming focus on El is an effect of his active avoidance of Will. Really, though, whichever part is active is where the true "focus" lies, as is notable by his passive responses, wandering eyes, and general "out of it"ness throughout the day - his mind is on Will even when his eyes aren't. Thinking "don't think about him" is still thinking about him.
And I love this repeat, because it really is just making it more overt like they say it is. They told a very similar plot a second time but focused on a second aspect to make you question his motives and focuses when he performs this action. Then, on a rewatch, you notice that he's doing the same thing in season 3 as he is in season 4...so maybe his motives are the same too.
We think of Mike getting up from the breakfast table, skating, etc. as "leaving/ignoring Will" not "focusing on El" because that's how he's thinking of it. He's trying so hard to seem like Will isn't on his mind that he's just thinking about how he looks in relation to Will with El often framed simply as the object of his distraction. We're in Will's POV in many of these scenes but in some ways, we're ironically, arguably in Mike's by the nature of the fact that just like him, we are putting all our attention onto Will.
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And this shot is a perfect example. We're looking at Will...and yet...the camera shot they used is from Mike's perspective. Not only that, with Mike out of focus in the foreground and Will in focus in the back like that, this kind of shot implies that Will is what he's thinking about. The camera suggests that Mike is hyperaware of Will's presence here. We aren't Jonathan, who is about to respond to this by trying to help, seeing Will upset. We aren't closer on Will to show that it's in his perspective. We're Mike. And as Mike, we're thinking about Will. Right before he leaves for El, but instead of cutting straight to El, we cut back to, that's right:
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the person we just left behind.
They have chosen to frame it repeatedly throughout the season as: Mike isn't thinking of El. He's thinking of "not Will".
the breakfast table scene Every single Mike and El scene is about Will
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visionofvoid · 1 year
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Homewrecker - MV1 Part Three
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summary: “who said you were my best friend? lewis is.”
warnings: jealous max, crash hehe, protective george, max and george fight, swearing hehe 
pairings: max verstappen x oc
word count: 1664
taglist: @ravenqueen27, @octaviareina​
PART ONE PART TWO
“You can’t love me, Max, you need to hate me.”
George and Lewis had become Blake’s closest friends, especially after that stupid confession in the Red Bull Racing hallway back in Zandvoort. She made it to the meeting with more than enough time, a coffee in hand and all her devices, papers and notes in the other. She sat beside Toto throughout the whole race, sliding over little tidbits he needed from the crew behind them. It was certainly a race to witness. 
It was safe to say that Kelly and Max broke up after Blake ran off in the hallway that day. It was the worst performance of his life, going from pole position to fourth place, his rivals at Mercedes taking the top two spots with Pierre in front of him. It was an embarrassment, especially after he won the race prior. He was at the top of his game, really giving Lewis a run for his money but he really let the events earlier get to him. 
The next few weeks were absolute and utter hell. He went no contact with Kelly and Penelope and not speaking to the young girl was torture enough, he was getting threats from Nelson Piquet for falling in love with someone that he referred to as ‘The Help’ and Christian was really not impressed with his performance. To top it all off he wanted to clear things up with Blake, but it seemed as if she was avoiding him at all costs, not that she was seeking him out before the confession. He was used to seeing her mingling with other people from the other teams but he now only saw her or got glimpses of her when she was with George or Lewis. 
George. George fucking Russell. His performance was excelling whilst behind the wheel of a Mercedes car and Max was done with it. He was sick and tired of watching all the Instagram stories of Blake hanging out with the two Mercedes drivers, sick of watching her being her goofy self with George, tormenting a meditating Lewis with George. Everything she seemed to do, she was doing it with George. 
Max followed her Instagram, when she eventually put it on public due to popular demand from the fans. It was usually behind the scenes images of the boys, travelling photo dumps and sneaky pictures of Toto for all the fans. He was guilty for following it, especially when she didn’t follow him back. He should just move on, he should just focus on being the World Champion or trying to become World Champion but he just couldn’t keep his mind off her. 
Austin was the one race that Blake was looking forward to the most. She had been to Silverstone, gushed over ageing actors that she could have only dreamed to be in the same vicinity of, drank fancy alcohol in fancy clothes and danced on tables with her boss and his wife. But America, especially Austin? Boy, she was excited. 
Over the course of the weekend she had met so many celebrities she could only dream of meeting, being introduced to on a first name basis by a now close friend that was Lewis Hamilton. She attended work dinners at steakhouses and shared a whole plate of ribs with George (that was posted on both hers and George’s instagram) but she had Max lingering in the back of her mind. 
“What the fuck is this George?” Toto cursed into the microphone attached to the headset, Blake looking at the screens to see her friend neck in neck with Max. 
“I’m trying to defend Lewis from Max.” With her own headset on Blake could hear the chatter coming from all the engineers trying to instruct George on how to proceed. 
“He keeps trying to run me off the fucking road, Christ!” Blake’s eyes flickered from one screen to the next, watching as the Red Bull race car driver kept driving dangerously close to Blake’s close friend. She watched in horror as Max slowly started to gain more speed approaching turn 12 from the straight after turn 11 and he showed no signs of slowing down. He was trying to call George’s bluff. 
“I’m going to keep pushing, he’ll have to slow down.” George spoke through the coms, Toto and his engineers agreeing with the last minute strategy. Her eyes should be focused on George but instead Blake watched Max’s car with eagle eyes, waiting for the moment that Max’s vehicle would slow down.
But it never did. 
“This is not right!” Toto yelled angrily, throwing his headset off and at the screens before jumping down from the platform. Blake sat in her seat, a hand over her mouth as she looked at the wreck that was on the screen. It played the crash again, this time in slow motion to capture every last second whilst the safety was deployed and Toto came back to his position, placing his headset on. 
“George? Are you okay?” There were some muffled sounds from the other end as Blake continued watching. The cars spun around each other onto the gravel before Max’s car clipped the wheel of George’s and flipped on top of it. “George?” Then she saw as they collided with the tire wall, Max’s world upside down. 
“I-I’m fine. I’m okay.” George’s voice finally cleared up and then footage of George climbing out through a gap was shown, yet no Max on the screen. Blake let out a sigh of relief when George started to make his way to some officials and to get away from the wreck. Blake’s eyes flickered to Max’s car, noticing a small spark and a body still in the vehicle. He seemed rather disoriented before he seemed to come to his senses, trying to get his way out. 
Blake seemed worried for a second and whilst she would feel worried for any driver in this situation it felt almost different. She didn’t want to see him harmed, in any sort of pain. She wanted him to be okay. It was a foreign feeling that's for sure, and not something she could ever equate to wanting someone like George or Lewis to be safe. 
“Shit! George, Max can’t get out. The car is on fire!” Blake spoke into her coms. It wasn’t very often she spoke but this seemed to snap George’s head to the wreckage. He immediately sprung into action, rushing back towards the cars and beckoning over some of the officials to help. They all bunched around the small gap that George had emerged from earlier and worked together to wiggle Max out whilst the spark turned into something a little more harrowing. Fire marshals armed with fire extinguishers rushed towards the end of the car and started to try and get rid of the fire, it only growing in return. They finally freed Max and dragged him away from the wreck as the track turned into a red flag and all cars returned to the Pit until they were allowed to be back on track. 
“Is he okay George?” Blake questioned, watching everything live on the screen yet getting no answer. 
It was a bittersweet win for Mercedes with Lewis winning the Austin GP, Charles and Sergio following in taking the other two spots on the podium. As instructed by Toto, Blake was to accompany George to get a routine check up and fill out incident reports before the following weekend in Mexico. Max was coming out of the infirmary room with his PR advisor and looked up to see George and Blake in front of him. He saw red. All he could see was George and Blake together, not Blake being a supportive friend and making sure he wasn’t alone. 
Together Blake and Max’s PR advisor watched in shock as Max pushed George up against the wall, the very few people that were in the building and not at the podium to watch the champagne celebration watching the drama unfold. 
“Max, what are you doing?” His PR advisor was pushed away as she tried to get in the middle of it, trying to pull him off the large, slender Brit. 
“That was fucking crazy out there man, you should have let me past.”
“I should have let you pass? You should have slowed down, like an actual fucking human decent human being. That crash was all you mate.” George stared down at Max, the two glaring at one another. Max’s PR advisor just looked to Blake for some sort of help. The two women were both unsure what to do. “I saved your fucking life, mate, a thank you would suffice.” George had a smug look on his face. Blake stepped forward, reading to intervene but stopped when George briefly held up his hand. 
“Your girl coming to rush to your aid? How cute.” The whole thing turned into one childish argument on Max’s behalf. 
“If it wasn’t for my girl, you’d probably be getting treatment for third degree burns. Have a bit of respect mate and do your research before you accuse friends of being something more. Though, I guess you have a bad track record about labels, you know, being in love with someone that isn't your long-term girlfriend.” Max was getting ready to raise his hand when Blake finally decided to intervene. She grabbed his arm, squeezing on his bicep through the race suit and he looked to the side for a moment before looking back up at George. 
“Max, just leave.” Everyone seemed to be waiting to see what he would do next. Would there be a punch thrown? Another shove? Some more words shared? Instead he let George go and stormed off, leaving his PR advisor with the Mercedes driver and Blake. 
“The man says he loves you then he goes and starts trying to kill her best friend. Shameless act honestly.” 
“Who said you were my best friend? Lewis is.”
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likealittleheartbeat · 2 months
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hey! i really enjoy your analysis of aang and zuko's relationship, and i was just wondering if you have any thoughts on this:
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when aang considers what he's afraid of the most, he doesn't just see zuko - he sees the blue spirit. why do you think his fear is linked to that mask? zuko was the most amicable towards him when he put that mask on, and was hostile every other time.
Ooooh!! This is such a rich and meaty question!! And it's something I've wondered about but never dove into before.
I guess there are a couple of questions we need to explore. One, do we want to begin to analyze this from Aang's perspective or the series' themes, which, when put together, should offer us the fullest idea of what the intent might be? If we begin with Aang's perspective, then the next question we need to next ask what is Aang's view of Zuko and/or the Blue Spirit at this point in the narrative? My worry about beginning at that intimate level is that we might miss possible connections that a thematic understanding might facilitate and may, like many fandom analyses, leave it at a character level when, in fact, the characters exist to serve larger philosophical purposes, especially in a show like ATLA.
So, we'll return to those questions about Aang after we visit some questions about the broader themes here. We know for a fact that the team did a lot of research into Eastern philosophies that they had to then pack down into 24 minute episodes, preserving a surprising amount of complexity not in the words but in the actions and visuals. The 2 part Crossroads of Destiny episode is probably the most evocative of this practice. The four-way fight scene is celebrated for the way it masterfully shows character development through fight choreography. Then, Aang's crystal chamber he forms to master the Avatar State is a direct reference to a statement about pre-enlightenment in one of the foundational texts about Japanese Zen for American Buddhists, "The Three Pillars of Zen." The rapid explanations of the seven chakras with Guru Pathik might seem like a a skimming of Tantric beliefs based on the brief statements and processing, but it's another prime example the way ATLA suffuses meaning beyond the script.
What more can be said about the Earth (also called the Root or Muladhara) Chakra, then, that the show might reflect without stating it explicitly. Guru Pathik explains that the Earth Chakra "deals with survival." Is there any subject more prescient than that for our protagonist, the single survivor of an otherwise all-encompassing genocide? Other accounts of this chakra that I can find explain that it's at this chakra that one can observe that their base needs are being met--enough food, enough water, etc. There seems to be a subtle witnessing to the effects of PTSD here then. With this chakra untouched, unopened, and out of balance, Aang within his mind has been living in a state of emergency without knowing it, believing himself at a core level beyond his consciousness to still be under immediate threat even in moments of peace like his meditations throughout the opening of his chakras. "Your vision is not real," Guru Pathik points out, not to say that no danger exists for him in the world but to illuminate the immediate reality surrounding his person.
The memories and visions that flash during the sequence hint at how fear conceals deeper realities and thus possibilities. I'll start with the clip of Katara sinking away from the first episode of Book 2, "The Avatar State." The Earth Kingdom General performed this cruelty after many other attempts to force Aang into suffering to gain the Avatar State. Believing he lost another person he loved, the state was triggered despite the actuality that Katara was unharmed. The fear of her loss overwhelmed Aang, and even her safe return could not assuage his traumatic response. The Blue Spirit incident forms a striking parallel to this event, in that case. Aang felt himself helpless and in danger only to discover the opposite: the seemingly malevolent force freed him from danger. Further, that Blue Spirit Mask concealed Zuko who, by the end of the series, will be revealed (to himself and) Aang as an ally and a friend. The shadowy image of Ozai, then, connected with these two fear-inducing semblances, can be seen then as perhaps the ultimate foreshadowing of Aang's ultimate success in pacifying Ozai. Put in the context of this chakra and the other two visions, it frames the Firelord as a facade meant to induce terror and distance, when in reality, life and humanity still lay behind the horrifying megalomania.
Concerning the Blue Spirit element specifically in the series, I want to explore one more factor within the series before getting back to Aang's character relationship in this moment. Blue has a running symbolic theme within the series that seems especially relevant here since it played a huge role in a highly symbolic part of the directly previous episode, "The Earth King." As Zuko rides out his psychogenic fever induced by releasing Aang's bison and abandoning his Blue Spirit mask, he is confronted in his dreams by a blue dragon voiced by Azula and a red dragon voiced by Iroh. I felt really confused by these two would-be shoulder angels for the longest time (literally until I was sorting my thoughts out to write this) because Azula's blue dragon is the one who entreats Zuko to rest, which even in Grey Delisle/Azula's clearly threatening tone--she even ends the temptation by saying "sleep just like mother!"--seemed to be what Zuko needed to do as opposed to the red dragon's exhortations to get out. I could see how sleeping might also refer to accepting his upbringing without thought, but why blue? The layers upon layers of possible meaning overwhelmed me.
I posit that blue in the series, especially when put in relationship to red/orange, as it is in the dream sequence, the dynamic between the water tribe and the fire nation, the fire of zuko and azula (especially the final agni kai), and the energy-bending of Aang over Ozai in the finale, ought to be read as Yin (making red/orange yang). Yin is passive, retractive, and receptive, which makes the invitation to rest by a blue dragon make perfect sense. Yin is also feminine in nature, hence the association with both Azula (whose blue fire and lightning becomes especially interesting to explore under this understanding) and Zuko's mother in the dualistic dragon dream. If you know anything about yin and yang, you know that it's key tenet is ever-changing coordination of yin and yang within one entity and with relationships between entities rather than the privileging of one above another. The two dragons in Zuko's dream, while seemingly in opposition to one another, are actually seeking, like the bumper stickers say, "coexistence" of their dispositions.
Now, back to Aang's vision of fear over the Blue Spirit. The red that overlays everything is specifically a reference to the Earth Chakra, which is symbolized by the color red. But the fact that he has one fear of Katara, the pinnacle of blueness/yin in the series, dying, and another fear of the Blue Spirit, a de-flamed (read: emasculated) Zuko attacking him that are then overlayed by this Earth Chakra red, a color otherwise used to portray yang (masculinity, activeness, expansion, and repulsion) and the fire nation in the series, suggests that his fears are specifically about within holding onto yin nature (symbolized by his grasping for a disappearing Katara) without being entirely overwhelmed by it (in the image of the fear he felt as the Blue Spirit approached his imprisoned body). And all those fears are intensified when living in such a patriarchal, or yang-skewed age and society, which gets depicted through both the final image of Ozai, the ultimate patriarch within this world, and the red coloring.
I promised I would get back to the characters, and after that hopefully illuminating thematic expansion, we can hopefully get at the core of what's going on here for Aang personally and what it might mean for him to be picturing Zuko with the Blue Spirit mask as a fear. I want to put this moment into context with Aang and Zuko's relationship at this specific moment. Aang hasn't seen Zuko since he watched him cry over his uncle in the ghost town after Azula struck him with lightning as a diversion. That was ten episodes prior (and more than 6 months time if you were watching the show in real time as it premiered; May 26th-Dec. 1st). The next time Aang sees Zuko, two episodes later, they are glowering across a crystal prison cell at one another with antipathy as they're embraced (a gesture I can only remember from the fantastic black romance film Love & Basketball, and in a gay context that is clearly referencing that moment in L&B, in the Norwegian teen romance series Skam). Right before this scene, Aang readily agrees to co-rescue Zuko and Katara with Uncle Iroh despite Sokka's protestations. Nothing seems amiss with Aang, no obvious belligerence toward Zuko until he sees him. Zuko has barely seen the airbender this whole season, and the one moment they encountered one another, Zuko was attacking Aang's attacker rather than him. Why is Aang expressing anger toward Zuko in the crystal chamber then? It's a rare expression from Aang even when we look at their more antagonistic interactions from the first season.
Here's where this vision of the blue spirit Aang envisions as he opens his earth chakra might enliven his characterization and his relationship to Zuko. We get two pieces here. His attachment to Katara and the queer implications of his partnership with the Blue Spirit/Zuko. And they are inseparable.
I don't feel that I need to especially dive into the attachment to Katara since it's been a pretty big component of discourse within the fandom, both in general analysis and more specifically relating to the (literally historic) shipping wars between zutara and kataang that emerged after the series came out originally. What I'll say here is that the first vision that Aang has as he addresses his root chakra points to his fear of losing her and what she represents pretty explicitly and, as I suggested earlier, also provides its antidote in the realization that accepting/surrendering the fear of impermanence reveals its simultaneous illusion. Katara wasn't actually harmed and wasn't truly lost when the general subsumed her into the ground. Aang has to let go of her as a permanent fixture that he'll always be able to see and know entirely (not, as many have interpreted it, let go of loving her). He'll also have to let go of saving her and the world of so many others she represents, which is as much a pressure and role Katara and others put on him as Aang yolks himself to.
Part of this acknowledgement of Katara's impermanence as a living being and a romantic possibility is addressing the others in her life who pose both danger and attraction for her. Zuko embodies both of these things simultaneously. The aggressive stare Aang launches at Zuko in "The Crossroads of Destiny" can be understood through this lens. The Eve Sedgwick's concept of the triangulation of male homosocial desire between romantic rivals was one of the foundational ideas of queer theory. It's so well-established as to be a meme among the tumblr crowd. The show even references the history of these literary homosocial tropes in "The Avatar and the Firelord" as Sozin and Roku's tight-knit youthful friendship is slowly rent apart at the event of Roku's heterosexual marriage, which thus begins the imperialism of the Fire nation.
Except that Roku and Sozin aren't romantic rivals. And Zuko's obsession with Aang begins sans Katara. And, as you pointed out, if the romantic threat is Zuko, it ought to be Zuko in the Earth Chakra vision instead of the Blue Spirit? Well, those all exist because ATLA is not a tragedy for homosocial relationships, and it's hard for me to explain how groundbreaking that was.
You see, the show theorizes homosociality differently. If Aang is required to let go of Katara, he has no pivot point, no object (because women shouldn't be objects for male fodder!) to connect with and compete with a rival male, so he has to look directly at the desire of another male for him and, therefore, face the fears that he might have similar desires. I said above that the Blue Spirit is an entirely de-flamed Zuko, which I then paralleled to emasculation. One could even go farther to call it a kind of symbolic castration (Firelord Ozai losing his firebending at the end of the series certainly demands this kind of reading). These aspects ignite fears about lacking masculinity which then cause reactions, which make men avoid accepting any thoughts and behaviors associated with vulnerability and homosexuality invoked within themselves or by others.
I think Aang, in his way, is confronting these fears but not from the angle of someone raised within a homophobic or misogynistic culture. His openness to Zuko and the potential of connection to him is ripe from the first time they meet--"you're just a teenager" connects them without any intermediary. He comes to understand the rigidness of the environment he's in, though. He feels like he's being forced to choose between a yang/masculine role he plays with Katara, who at this point in the series though growing out of it and certainly not a fault of her own making still sees him as her savior and depends on him to save her and the world through metaphysical mastery and the repulsion of evil, and yin/feminine role he plays with Zuko, who finds Aang in and forces him into positions of elusion, surrender, and passivity, while requiring his compassion and forgiveness. When the Blue Spirit comes swinging his swords (read that with all the innuendos you want lol) at a shackled Aang, it's the ultimate expression of Aang's potential for submissiveness because, not only is he entirely helpless but the one who could harm or save him in that scenario is another who is not participating in the expected power of fire/yang/masculinity.
I think everything in the show says this is attractive to Aang--that he remains with Zuko immediately after their escape from the fort, that he reflects on the Blue Spirit as he opens his chakras, that a reference to the conversation that followed their escape that Zuko makes halts him in his tracks when Zuko asks to join the team. Zuko's Blue Spirit persona means a lot to Aang, a scary amount, and my point is that it's this fear of the meaningfulness of their encounter as two men who are not the masculine paragons they are supposed to be which Aang faces as he opens his chakra. As much as he wants Katara, he wants Zuko. He fears he'll lose Katara and he fears he'll lose his life to Zuko. These are the dichotomies he's tackling as he processes the Earth chakra.
Aang eventually opens the chakra, but that's only to say he acknowledges and surrenders his fears to a destiny and understanding beyond his control, not that he necessarily learns how to address and solve all the conundrums contained therein. We know he chooses his attachment to Katara at the end of the episode to obtain power over the Avatar state but perhaps we could've been clued into this choice by noticing he has not chosen Zuko with that initial glare Aang gives him. Aang hasn't found a way in his chakras or his heart to hold both Katara and Zuko at once, so he chooses Katara and expresses a newfound jealousy and rivalry toward Zuko (not that Zuko's at his best behavior at this point, but it's Aang who initiates the exchange).
By the end of this season, Zuko abandons the Blue Spirit mask and Aang loses his life for prioritizing Katara and a yang-centric mastery of the Avatar state. The next season involves all three of the protagonists finding more internal balance between yin and yang for themselves and accepting mutually reciprocal feelings for one another that allow them to escape the kinds of patriarchal tropes that have dominated Anglo- literature for centuries. The ability of this brief sequence to highlight so many of the series' central revolutionary themes speaks to the depth of the show and the way it invites the audience to think about rich subtext rather than pedantically hammer us with morals will just continue to be the gift that keeps giving from this show.
Thanks so much for asking! Didn't know how much I missed doing a deep dive into this kind of stuff.
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queen-haq · 2 months
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Fic: Never You - (Penelope/Colin) Part 1
Rating: R
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)
Spoilers: S3 scene released yesterday.
Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn't giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.
Excerpt:
“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”
“Of course you would think that.”
“What else is this if not punishment?”
Part 1
Penelope stared out at the pond, her last conversation with Colin still running through her mind. I miss you. Few months ago his words would have sparked incredible joy in her but hearing his smug confession last night had elicited nothing but rage. Even now an explosive anger threatened to burn her from the inside out - but she reminded herself to stay composed. Losing her calm over Colin Bridgerton was simply not worth it, not when she had far more important things to worry about.
“Penelope. How are you?”
Hearing Lady Violet’s voice from behind, she turned around to greet the older woman. Except she wasn’t alone. Of course not. Behind her stood most of her family, Colin and Eloise on one side, Gregory and Hyacinth on the other. Penelope quickly shifted her gaze back to Lady Violet. “I’m quite well. How are you?”
“You haven’t paid us a visit in a long time.”
Penelope sensed the scorn vibrating off of Eloise in waves, but she ignored her former friend. Even though her soul ached at the loss of their friendship, a part of her had already grown resigned to their new reality. “I’m afraid country life has kept me busy all these months.”
“Well, you’re back now. I hope to see you at the house more often.”
There was no mention of the falling out with Eloise, nor did Penelope expect there to be. Especially with Eloise pretending she no longer existed. Her eyes roamed over to her friend, only to be ignored. Inevitably her gaze slid over to Colin, and she suddenly found herself the recipient of his intent focus. Somber blue eyes penetrating her through to her very core, making her rattled and anxious and breaking down the very calm façade she worked so hard to build.  
Throughout their entire friendship he’d always been sweet and funny, filling her dull world with hope and color, but the night of her mother’s ball she’d seen the kind of cruelty he was capable of. It was a side of him that she never wished to see again. And feeling his piercing gaze right into her soul, in a way he’d never looked at her before, reminded her of how much of a stranger he really was. “Forgive me, Lady Violet, but I must take my leave. Mama shall be waiting for me.”
She quickly walked past the group, breathing a sigh of relief at no longer being under Colin’s scrutiny. Her relief, however, lasted only a few seconds. Because almost immediately Colin was striding alongside her.
“Pen, we need to speak.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Then I’ll do the talking.”
“And I’m not interested in listening.”
“Too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
She cursed his long legs, because while she struggled to keep up the fast pace he seemed to glide along the path without much effort. Short of running away from him, which would surely cause a scandal amongst the crowd promenading, she had no choice but to keep walking.
“I’m sorry. Truly.” His voice was soft, velvety like butter, like he’d practiced the words many, many times in preparation for the performance of a lifetime. “My words that night-”
“Do you know that I read your letters over the summer? Despite my anger, I still read them.”
An unexpected rawness laced his voice. “Why?”
“Because I needed to know. Would I recognize that insincerity in your words now that I knew the truth about your disdain towards me. And do you know what I discovered?”
She finally turned to look at him, and just for a moment the world stopped. Like it always did. His eyes were bluer than the sea itself, a symphony of agony and need, beckoning her towards him. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe, her heart caught in a whirlwind of chaos.
“Tell me.”
It wasn’t a request, nor a plea. It was a demand. As if he was entitled to her thoughts, her heart. Her very soul.  Well, damn him. Damn him for playing her for a fool. And damn herself for ever loving him. “You are an extraordinarily talented writer, Mr. Bridgerton. So good in fact that I woulld never have guessed your true thoughts if I didn’t hear you utter them myself.”
“That’s not fair. It was one night, Pen! One night! When I was drunk out of my mind and said something foolish. Are you really willing to give up on me after years of friendship because of something so small?”
“Yes.” Her response was quick and resolute, surprising even herself.
Stunned, Colin stared back at her. “Yes?” The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?”
The change in him was sudden and abrupt, taking her by surprise when he moved swiftly to block her path.
The blues of his eyes were so dark they bordered on brown, a storm brewing in them. Staring back at her was a man she didn’t recognize, different from the boy she grew up with,and the man who humiliated her without a thought. This was a stranger in front of her, anger etched on his face, jaw clenched with tension.
“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”
“Of course you would think that.”
“What else is this if not punishment?”
She didn’t think he could hurt her more, but he managed to do it nonetheless. “I never expected you to court me, Colin. You don’t love me. I’m quite aware of that. But you could have told them there was nothing between us. You could’ve even said I meant nothing to you. Instead you mocked me, derided me so you could look good in front of your peers, and that makes you someone I never want to associate with.”
 “I made a mistake, Pen.”
“Miss Featherington,” she bit out through gritted teeth. “That is who I am to you from now on. Nothing more.”
“So that’s it? I make a mistake and you erase me from your life just like that?” He snapped his finger angrily. “Are you so fucking perfect that you’ve never wronged anyone?
They’d been standing still for far too long, their conversation growing more potent every second. All of a sudden she was acutely aware of glances in her direction, people’s eyes sliding over her and Colin, and she realized how dangerous this was. Risking her carefully crafted plans for a few heated moments with him was idiotic. “People are staring at us, Colin.”
“I don’t care.”
“Obviously.” She offered a small smile at the couple who walked past her, trying to appear amiable. “You may not be concerned about my reputation but I am. And I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my way.”
“I’m not willing to give up on our friendship like you.”
His snarky words drew her gaze back to him. “Walk away, Mr. Bridgerton. Let me be.”
“And if I don’t?”
The hint of menace sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “You would not be the gentleman you claim to be.”
“Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps everything you’ve accused me of is true.” He took a step closer, eyes shining brightly. “Maybe I am cunning and cruel. What then?”
Her heart pounded in her chest. “What is it that you want from me?”
“Forgiveness.”
“Fine. You’re forgiven.”
“You’re lying.”
“And you’re being rude.”
Eyes locked, they regarded each other intently. She didn’t understand what he was doing, why he was behaving this way. Why his stare seemed to be all consuming, studying her, trailing down to her mouth when she licked her bottom lip before drifting back up again. He’d never behaved this way before, A complete stranger in every way. “If you ever valued me as a friend, you would do as I ask.”
“I could say the same. If you valued me, you wouldn’t cast me aside.”
“You can not force me to continue this.”
“Would that be such a hardship? To move past one mistake and leave it behind us?” Desperation brimmed from him, he swallowed audibly. “I may not wish to court you but you are important to me. You’re my dearest friend. I can not envision a life without you.”
She exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. “You must.”
His lips twisted into a cruel plea. “Why?”
“Because I am to be married, Colin!” Instantly she regretted her words, hating herself for letting him provoke her. Yes, it was the truth, a plan that had taken months to carefully develop and plot – and now she’d ruined it by announcing it too early, and to him of all people!
“What?” He faltered back, stunned by her words. “You’re engaged? To whom? Why-”
“All you need to know is that my future husband and I have already discussed the matter and he wishes for me to have nothing to do with you. So goodbye, Mr. Bridgerton, because this the last time you and I will speak alone.” She stormed away, before he could stop her.
To be continued...
A/N - Um, thoughts? Feedback is always appreciated. I'm liking the idea of Colin and Penelope going head to head over the destruction of their friendship :)
143 notes · View notes
starryjeekies · 4 months
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~ Watch Out For the Shy Ones ~
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Pairing: kang yeosang x fem!reader x yang jeongin (gn pronouns used)
Genre: smut, pwp
Summary: after working on the set of kingdom, you landed yourself working for the company of the winners, stray kids. now a year later, i.n invites you to his birthday party at a club. after meeting up with him and running into an old friend from the show, yeosang, the usually shy members of their groups let slip a little secret. will this secret lead to more secrets between the sheets?
Warnings: pure smut, threesome, oral (m receiving), cum eating, protected sex, pet names (doll mainly), alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), switch!yeosang, switch!jeongin, dom!reader, nothing too crazy, if there's more let me know!
Words: 8k
A/N: long time no see! I did start writing this not too long after i wrote double trouble (please check it out if you haven't!) but took a break due to work/life. once I saw ateez announced that it's you was going to get an mv, i decided to start working on it again. now, i am posting this in celebration of the it's you mv dropping. any and all feedback is appreciated! i have more ideas for the future so stay tuned <3
There wasn’t a day that went by that wasn’t filled with chaos. You had landed one of your first jobs with Mnet and even thought the management itself was really shitty, it did pay decently well. You had started there right as Mnet was finding groups to compete on Kingdom. You had already known The Boyz were going to be on since they won Road to Kingdom, so you could only imagine what other idol groups would be competing. You didn’t have any say in picking out who else but you were happy to see some of your other favorite groups be there.
You had known Stray Kids and Ateez would be there thanks to Hyunjin and San performing with Juyeon and that made you excited. They both had immaculate talent that needed to be showcased. You were glad to help throughout their time on Kingdom. Sure, you didn’t work specifically with only those groups, but being a stage tech crew member, you were excited to see their stages the most. You created the bell in Stray Kids’ Side Effects/God’s Menu stage, you did the research for how much the tentacle was going to cost for Ateez’s Symphony No. 9 stage, it was cool to see your hard work be part of the reason both groups you enjoyed rank top 3 in the end.
There wasn’t too much interaction you got with the groups themselves besides right before a performance to do prop checks, but they were always super nice to you. You appreciated their kindness, not seeing it from your own company most of the time. All of the idols, in fact, were very sweet and thankful for your help during the show. You ended up staying late with many of them to make sure their practices ran smoothly with scene changes, props, ropes, everything. Many times, that’s when you just simply stayed the night at the studio in one of the dressing rooms because the drive to your apartment would take too much time.
Then, once Kingdom was done and Stray Kids had won, you were able to land yourself a temp position at JYPE doing exactly what you were doing at Mnet but with a much more rewarding crew to work with. Someone in Stray Kids put in a good word for you, you believe. Eventually, that position became a full time set design crew member for their music videos and jacket shootings. Now, almost a year later, you are getting ready for a party. Jeongin’s birthday party.
Surprisingly, he had invited you out to his 21st birthday party. Well, Chan had invited you on I.N’s behalf because he couldn’t do it himself. Now that you had gotten closer to Stray Kids, it was easier for you to talk to them regularly. You would still be formal with them, but it was easy to have fun with the boys when time allowed it. If there was downtime between scene setup and when the boys had to start shooting, it wasn’t uncommon for one of them to strike up a conversation with you. Jeongin, however, did it more so when it was just you two or everyone else was far enough away. It wasn’t like your conversations were necessarily private or anything, but he was one of the more shy ones from the group.
Chan told you about a club that I.N wanted to go to; it was an underground one that allowed idols to party away from the general public. The only people who knew about it were other idols and some staff members from the companies. Trainees or low level employees had no knowledge of its existence. There were many around Seoul, being as big of a city as it is and how many kpop groups there are now. People know they exist, but the locations of them are kept hidden.
Since it is a club you’re going to, you decide to let yourself dress freely. A low cut red top and a tight black leather skirt with some pumps is your way to go. When looking at yourself in the mirror, anxiety starts to grow in your belly. How formal should I be with the guys? It’s after work hours but I still work for them. I shouldn’t get too crazy, but I do want to have fun. Jeongin did invite me after all. You decide to suck it up and have fun, wanting to enjoy celebrating the idol.
Leaving your apartment, you start your journey via subway as it’s still open at 11 pm. You quickly get to Hongdae and start walking towards the club. After downing the soju bottle you bought from 7-Eleven on the ride over, you feel ready to get the night started. The club is hidden behind a restaurant on the corner, allowing you to sneak into the back alley and down the stairs. There’s a small neon sign on the brick next to the door, a keypad, and a large metal door. After punching in the code Chan gave you, the green light flashes and the door unlocks.
You quickly step inside and let the door close heavily behind you but no one notices. The music is loud and booming and you realize the door makes the rest of the place hidden because of the soundproofing. There’s no bouncer at the front door but there is someone for a coat check which you graciously hand them your thick coat you wore since it is February. You look around and see some of the members of different groups you’ve met or seen before as well as people you don’t recognize who might be employees from their companies.
You make your way to the bar, squeezing in between people to try and order a drink.
“Hi, what are you looking for?” The bartender asks you, leaning his elbow on the counter.
“Something strong, please.” You respond back, leaning closer for him to hear you.
“How about some soju bombs for the birthday boy?”
You turn and see Jeongin standing there, his huge cheesy grin plastered on his face. You smile back at him and shout, “Hey!”
He laughs and pulls you in for a hug, obviously feeling the effects of the alcohol he’s already consumed. He’s glad when he feels you squeeze him tightly back. When you pull away, he’s eager to look at the bartender for more drinks. “Two soju bombs, please.”
“Well, happy birthday to you, Jeongin.” You hold onto his arm lightly as he does the same to you.
“That’s only, like, the fourth time you told me that today.” He laughs again, causing your ears to flare up hot. “But I appreciate it, thanks for coming out tonight.”
“My pleasure, there’s no work tomorrow so I can be out as late as you want me.” You smile, leaning against the bar.
“That’s good to hear, because I plan to party for a while.” He winks at you which makes you even more flustered, causing him to shake your arm lightly. “Hey, let loose, have fun, no-no need to have formalities tonight.”
You shake your head lightly, watching as he looks into your eyes. “This is the loosest I’ve seen you act in my whole time at the company, so I think we’re pretty even in the ‘who needs to let loose’ games.”
“Alright, alright,” The younger man shakes off your remark and instead motions behind you to the two beer glasses sitting behind you. “I have a tab started so don’t even worry.”
You ended up being with Jeongin for a significant part of the night. You would dance together, get a drink, break off whenever he had someone else who would wish him a happy birthday, then meet back up at the table for another drink, talk for a while about him or you, and repeat. That cycle has happened about two or three times now and you’re currently at the table, checking your phone for the time. It’s past 2 am and you’re still not exhausted which is interesting.
“Not getting bored, are you?”
You look up and see another familiar face, a cheeky smile beaming down at you. You’re delighted to see the man standing there. “Yeosang!”
He invites himself to sit next to you, squeezing in close on the semi circle booth. “It’s been a while, Y/N.”
“Awh, you remembered my name,” You chuckle, resting a hand on his knee. “I’m flattered.”
He laughs incredulously, covering his mouth with his hand. “What do you mean? Of course I remember your name. You act like we didn’t work together for months.”
“That was also a year plus ago.” You smirk, looking at him. He’s fucking gorgeous. His hair is a beautiful blond, long and thick. He definitely looks dressed to party; he’s wearing a shirt with only one sleeve and the opposite hip cut out with leather pants. His blond locks are pushed back with a few strands falling in front of his face. His beautiful heart shaped face has light makeup which accentuates his features delightfully. In your intoxicated state, you’d jump his bones right then and there if it was acceptable. “People grow and change.”
“I mean, I don’t think I’m that different from a year ago.” He looks to the table for a moment, only glancing at you briefly.
“Well, you’re just as hot.” You smirk, watching him get flustered and wave you off.
“And you’re more bold.”
“And you’re just as shy.”
He looks at you somewhat defiantly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of being right. “I prefer to call it more introverted.”
You smirk again, resting your chin in your hand. “Fine, have it your way then. And besides, it’s just the alcohol. Jeongin and I are almost going shot for shot and he’s not as much of a lightweight as I thought.”
“Oh, you’re here for his birthday too?” He smiles lightly, seeing that you stayed in contact with someone else from Kingdom.
“Yeah, I work for JYPE now so I get to see him pretty regularly.” You giggle, updating him on the new thing that’s happened. “He invited me out and we’ve been hanging together for the most part but I’m pretty sure I saw Allen from Cravity steal him away.”
“Ah, he invited me too but I haven’t-”
“Kang Yeosang!” On cue, the birthday boy comes to the table with three double shots of what is presumed to be soju. “Took you forever to show up!”
“I’ve been here!” He retorts back, looking teasingly at the boy. “You just finally made yourself free.”
“I had to buy you a drink first, sorry it took so long.” He slides the shot glass to his friend while also giving you a drink. “It’s the least I can do for you before you go back on tour.”
“You’re in the middle of a tour?” You look towards the older guy as you down your shot.
He takes his with little grimace and pushes the glass away. “Yeah, we just finished our USA leg and we are heading to Europe in a week or so.”
“Wow, big things!” You smirk, then look to I.N who has slung an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve just been catching up since the last time we saw each other.”
“Ah, telling him how much cuter you’ve gotten?”
“Oh my god!” You squeal at his comments, Yeosang laughing at your response. “You, sir, have had enough to drink. You’re usually as bad as Yeosang yet here you are hitting on me.”
“What, can I not compliment you?” He looks offended at your statement. “Come on, Yeosang, don’t they look great tonight?”
He looks put on the spot, but you notice that the Ateez member does, indeed, look you up and down to take in your appearance. It makes something stir inside you to be checked out by an idol you’ve looked up to, something dangerous. “I have to give it to I.N, he has a point.”
“Wow, okay, you two.” You hold your hands up in defeat, relenting to the men on either side of you. “Color me shocked as neither of you had said anything in the time that I’ve worked with you both.”
“We never said it to you directly.”
You look between them, not believing what you’re hearing. Your face heats up more as what’s insinuated sets in. “You guys have talked about me before?”
Now their real personalities shine. Now being confronted with the reality of what they’ve acknowledged to be doing, Yeosang looks at the pushed away shot glass while Jeongin’s eyes are focused into his lap. The tension is…weird. It’s awkward but also sexual. You swallow down the awkwardness that you feel and decide to look at Jeongin since he’s been more liberal with his answers tonight. “What exactly have you two talked about regarding me?”
He rolls his eyes lightly, finding his rings more interesting than your eyes. “Just things…”
You huff and look towards the dancer, seeing his ears are bright red. “What things?”
Yeosang looks over to the younger man, blinking a few times. “Uh, well…”
This time, your sigh is dramatic as you push your hair back. “Well, boys, it’s been lovely with this little chit chat, but if you can’t entertain a simple gossip question, then I guess it’s time to call it a night.” You move to get out of the booth, but go over Yeosang’s lap and “accidentally” let your ass rub over his crotch. A short groan escapes his lips and his hands immediately place themselves on your hips, keeping you on him. You turn your head to glance at him, your hand grabbing onto his strong forearm. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
His breathing wavers as he finally locks his eyes to you, specifically your neck. “We…we wondered, if,” You moving yourself farther up on his lap caused him to groan again, his eyes fluttering and his dick hardening underneath you. “I-If you wore black underwear under your black stage crew outfits.”
“Is that all?” You look at the birthday boy, expecting an answer from him too.
He shakes his head, his black hair falling into his eyes. “We thought about whether you've had any experience or not.”
“And if you’ve ever, you know, had two guys at once.” The Ateez member pipes up again, his hands still holding onto you tightly.
“Would you like to find out?” You ask them, feeling the path down the rabbit hole turn this way. Jeongin looks up at you with his mouth slightly agape while you can feel Yeosang’s hot breath at your neck. “Subways are closed but we can take a taxi to my place. No one would ever know.”
You can feel the heat radiating off of Yeosang while he looks at Jeongin. The younger one looks just as surprised before there’s a switch. You can see it in the way his eyes become trained on you after he closes his mouth. He had no telling that his drunk confession would actually lead to this. He was actually betting on you telling him you were going to quit. So this is different. He grabs the empty shot glasses and shoots up from his seat. “I’ll pay the tab, you call the taxi.”
“If you insist.” You smirk, watching him practically jog away from the table. You manage to snake out of Yeosang’s grasp before holding a hand out to him. “Are you going to join us?”
“This is not just the alcohol talking, is it?” He takes your hand and stands up with you. He wants to make sure you don’t regret whatever you three are thinking of doing tonight.
“Listen, if I have to sign two NDAs then I will.” The Ateez member laughs at your statement. “Besides, I like seeing the birthday boy happy and I have been deprived of your hotness for a year. I’m curious as to where the night is going to go.”
You and Yeosang head outside, dressed in your coats and masks while you wait for the taxi to arrive. I.N isn’t too far behind you and you all pile into the car, telling the driver the address to your home. The drive over is tense in the best way. While the ride isn’t too long, the boys are trying hard to contain themselves. Yeosang is bouncing his leg slightly while I.N bites at his thumb. However you aren’t any better, fiddling at the hem of your skirt. You’re sure the driver feels the tension too.
Upon entering the complex, it starts settling in on what’s happening. Two idols, one of which you work for, want to fuck you. At the same time. There’s no going back from that statement. Walking into your apartment, you take off your shoes and coat, putting them where they should be so you don’t trip in the morning. “So did you two have an action plan or did you not get that far?”
“To say we had a plan is going a bit far.”
“But we did have an idea.”
You cock your head to the side, glancing between the two men who now stand there. “Then what are you waiting for?”
I.N gives a quick glance to his partner in crime before walking up to you. Now, standing in front of you, his shyness not holding him back, you can truly grasp how people can say he’s intimidating. But his touch is gentle as he cups your cheek. His face is angled in a way that silently begs for a kiss. You nod and move forward to help close the gap. You easily note how eager he is in the kiss. He wastes no time with little pecks and instead goes for the open mouth kisses. It takes a moment for you two to find a rhythm that works, but once you do, you can tell that Jeongin isn’t inexperienced. His ability to hold you captive with just his mouth is impressive. He tastes like soju, but then again you probably do as well. He makes sure that you become enthralled in him, letting you melt into his touch. His hand does remove from your cheek and instead, is placed on your breast, giving you a light squeeze.
He enjoys the moan you let out and smirks into the kiss. He makes sure to palm your breast again when he asks, “That feels good, huh?”
Your words of agreement falter as he does it again. Your hand wraps behind his neck and into his hair. “So good.”
He makes sure to take special care of your nipple over your shirt. You’re definitely certain he can feel the hard nub poking through your shirt now that your arousal is climbing. You don’t know how much time has passed before you feel another presence behind you. This time, you reel in having Yeosang’s lips on your neck while his hands are firmly on your hips. He holds you in place against him, feeling how hard he is through his tight leather pants. Something leaning more towards a whimper comes out, causing Yeosang to chuckle at you.
“Now who's the eager one?” The blond man mutters, pushing himself against your ass to get another response from you.
“Didn’t think you’d want this so bad.” The kisser pulls away for a moment to focus both hands on both of your breasts, watching your eyebrows scrunch up and mouth become agape.
“I didn’t know you two even thought about this.” You try to retort back, but you know better than to fight two versus one. Your head is spinning with multiple pleasure points.
“Sorry, we shouldn’t have kept you waiting for so long.” Yeosang slips one of his hands down your front, underneath your skirt. He cups your pussy and loves the way you inadvertently push back against him. “Our deepest apologies.”
You blink a few times to come to your senses so you don’t blast off to cloud nine then and there. With a huff, you glance at your new lover before making eye contact with the birthday boy. “Keep this up and I might just forgive you.”
Jeongin laughs before capturing your lips in his. This kiss is harsher and more needy, tugging at your bottom lip before he releases again. “We won’t keep you waiting any longer.”
While I.N’s hands are skillfully rolling over your nipples, Yeosang’s fingers rub between your folds, palm brushing across your clit with every stroke. It’s hard not to basically pant against I.N’s lips when you have two sets of hands working up all of your nerves. Soon enough, it’s also two pairs of lips at different pleasure points. Yeosang is focused on your neck while I.N travels down to your collarbone. Their approaches are much different. Yeosang is looking to please, making sure to take his time in sucking on your skin so you can feel him. Jeongin is aiming to elicit a reaction from you, nipping and teasing every which way to get you to squirm. Both are hoping to mark what’s theirs.
With their bombardment, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep yourself upright even with holding onto both of them. Yeosang’s fingers between your legs seem to be also holding you up as his fingers push harsher on your nub, causing you to jolt upwards and consequently pushing your tits into Jeongin’s face. “You’re going to make me cu-um before you even see me undressed, y-you know that?”
“Oh, we can’t have that, can we, Jeongin?” The Ateez member slows down his fingers, eyes shooting up to his counterpart. He can see through hooded eyes that the younger isn’t ready to start slowing down at all.
“Not yet, it’s still much too early in the night.” He comes up from your collarbone and grabs your chin with his hand, pulling your head back towards him to look you in your eyes. He can see just how much you were enjoying their attack. “Wouldn’t you agree, doll?”
You blink away your haziness, trying to come back to your senses. It doesn’t help that the lust you feel is the same lust you see in his eyes. You nod your head. “I’d also prefer to cum on my bed instead of on the floor.”
Both men chuckle at your witty remark. They partially pull away from you but still hold onto you as you lead them to your bedroom. It was nothing extravagant but it was at least clean and the bed was made. You sit them on your bed and decide to give them a little show since they will be taking care of you tonight. First to go will be your top with no bra underneath, so you let your tits fall free. Jeongin’s mouth opens slightly upon actually seeing you bare whereas Yeosang’s jaw clenches in an attempt to restrain himself. With a light smirk, the zipper of your skirt comes undone with a small tug of your fingers and falls to the floor. The only undergarment you had was a black thong that is now rightfully stained by your own arousal. Their reactions seem frozen, taking in all of you that you let them see. “You were right, black is my favorite color after all.”
The youngest’s ears go bright red, feeling like he’s stumbled upon something so brilliant but isn’t for his eyes. The older takes a moment to look at you before his eyes start darting around the room, landing on everything except you as he feels the strain in his pants become unbearable. Seems like the reality of the situation sets in for the men, now sitting in front of you while you present yourselves to them.
“Finally sobering up?” You giggle at their reactions, hooking your fingers into the strings of your thong. “Because I’m still dead serious if you two are.”
“You are?” Yeosang looks at your face, some of his blond hair now falling into his eyes as he takes in your tone.
“You really don’t have to, i-if you don’t want to, you know.” I.N doubles down on it, hands anxiously messing with the comforter beneath him.
“I mean,” You start, pulling down your underwear slightly. “I would like to see if I could make you cum at the same time. And like I told Yeosang, if you need me to sign an NDA I will. In the morning, though, because I don’t know how fucked out I’ll be once we are done.”
That seems to break Jeongin out of his shyness again, feeling more confident in himself than before. He looks at Yeosang with a smirk. “Who are we to deny our little doll a new experience?”
The muscular dancer looks at you and you can see the way the confidence darkens his eyes. “I suppose it’s only right if they are willing to give themselves to us like this.”
With a slight shimmy of your hips, you pull down your underwear the rest of the way before resting your hands on your hips. “Now, should we let the birthday boy choose what hole he wants? As a little gift?”
His eyes light up like a kid in a candy store with the option you presented him. You can see that he’s getting excited at the prospect of using you how he wants. “I want to feel your pussy, so badly.”
“Then happy birthday.” You wink at him, then look sweetly at Yeosang. “Would you prefer oral or anal?”
“Have you ever done anal before?”
“I have a butt plug so it’s not too foreign.”
“You have what?”
“Really?”
“I asked if you’d like to find out.” You shrug lightly, crossing your arms to bolster your breasts. “I’ve taken anal a couple of times, or I can take about six inches in my mouth without gagging. Your choice.”
“Fuck, you get hotter the more we find out about you.” His chest heaves with your suggestions and takes a moment to think through what would be best for him. Seeing the little pout on your lips makes him think about what they’d feel like around him. “Oral, if you’re up for it.”
You giggle at his remark, wiggling your hips slightly as you feel the alcohol exiting your system. Instead of the complicitness the alcohol presets, you start to feel the anticipation in wondering how big Yeosang could be. “There’s a lot to find out about me.”
“What else do we not know about you?” Jeongin asks, positioning himself differently thanks to the strain of his cock in his pants.
“Well, I assume you mean sexually and not as in ‘what’s your favorite animal’,” You walk up to I.N, gently grab the back of the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head. You discard the shirt and let your hands run over his bare shoulders; he shivers at your light touch while his eyes flutter to stare at yours. “But a fun one is I don’t mind experimenting. I’m down to try most things. So if we have fun tonight, maybe we can try other things in the future?”
“If we have fun?” The blond has a playful tone to him. He pops the buttons on his pants watching you caress his friend. “I’m certain the two of us will, so we will be aiming to make sure you will.”
“That’s good to hear. But I’m not letting you spit roast me tonight.” You smirk, seeing the confusion on both of their faces. “I’m not letting the first time I have a threesome be with a cliche sex position that’ll leave my knees sore. I have a better idea than that.”
“Then by all means,” I.N smirks, grabbing ahold of your hips to pull you closer. “Lead the way, doll.”
“Wonderful,” You peck his lips while your hands tangle into his hair. “Yeosang, would you be a dear and strip for me please?” You tilt your head slightly to see him turn bashful at your request. “I need to make sure Innie here is ready to stuff his cock in me while I blow you.”
“F-Fuck okay.” He likes the sound of your voice, all sultry while asking him politely. He immediately gets off the bed to strip, all while watching what you do to the other man.
“Good, now,” You turn your attention back to I.N who is also more than ready to listen to you. “I can’t have you pounding into me while I take as much Sangie in my mouth as I can.” You give him languish kisses to draw out his eagerness. Your hand palms against his crotch, seeing just how hard he is currently. He lets out a cute whimper when you do. “I’ve got to pleasure you both. So work on long, deep strokes, okay?”
“Whatever you say, you’re the boss here.” His voice is deep as he returns another kiss to you. He stands up as he kisses you, going to remove his pants in the process.
“If we are being technical here, you’re the boss.” You chuckle, watching his chest follow you in the sentiment. You help push down his pants and underwear as well. You take a second to see what you’re working with. You’re definitely not disappointed and are excited for what your future position will give you in terms of pleasure. Your hand takes his dick and slowly pumps him. His moan is low, but that combined with the slight twitch you receive tells that he is ready. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
You turn to see if Yeosang has stripped and you are more than pleasantly surprised. He is stripped, but also definitely shy now being naked in front of not one, but two people. His ears are red and he’s staring at the clothes on the floor. You smile and give Jeongin one more kiss before turning your full attention to Yeosang. You instruct the younger man, “Condoms are underneath the bed in a box on the right side. Grab one and wait for me. I want to give Sangie a little more attention before we start.”
Yeosang gives you a half smile, easily melting into your touch when you approach him and hold your arms around his neck. His hands find themselves on the small of your back. “Kinky and considerate?”
“Like you said, we all gotta be having fun.” With your hand on his jaw, you bring his face closer while you repeat the act to him. Yeosang kisses you for real the first time that night, and you wish you would’ve let him sooner. Sure, his lips on your neck were nice, but to feel his lips on yours was better. He was precise in what he did, no matter how much he started to unravel underneath you. His hands immediately went for your ass to pull you to him so you can feel how hard he was. You moan into him, feeling how hot and bothered he was and involuntarily grind against him.
“If this is as close to your cunt I’ll be tonight, then I’m going to take it.” He breathes out while grinding back against you.
“There’s always next time.” You smirk, kissing him again. You let your teeth graze his bottom lip this time. By him gripping your ass tightly, you know that was the right move. “If you want a next time.”
“I already want a next time.”
“Then let’s get on with this time, yeah?” With a nod of his head, you instruct him. “On your back, on the bed. Half way up.”
He listens and crawls onto your bed, watching as you start to follow him. He props himself on his elbows, watching as you bend the top half of your body forward into the bed.
You lean forward enough to be face level with his cock. His tip is already a pretty pink color and he’s girthier than Jeongin, but probably just as long. You peer over your shoulder to I.N, watching him watch you two with his dick in hand. “Don’t be shy now, come and take me.”
You don’t have to tell him twice as he comes behind you, watching you spread your legs for him. He holds your hip with one hand while starting to line himself with your slick entrance. His tip prods your entrance before slowly sliding in with only a little resistance. He lets out the breath he was holding as he starts to push his way into you. It’s going to be a snug fit, but it won’t take long until your body is used to him.
You release a short moan at his cock finally entering you before you place your lips over Yeosang, letting your moan stimulate his tip. His hand is immediately in your hair and you feel the grip he has. He’s not forcing you down on him, not yet anyway. You go down on him to see just how much of him you can actually take. As I.N bottoms out into you, dick thick and stretching you in the most delicious ways, Yeosang hits the back of your throat before you’re able to brush your nose against his pelvis. The three of you moaning in unison tells that your anticipation is well worth it. You just hope that your neighbors can’t hear the three of you now because there’s no telling how loud you all will get.
“Fuck, this is better than I thought it would be.” The birthday boy slowly pulls out while you move up on his friend’s dick. “You feel so good, doll.”
“Their mouth feels just as good.” He breathes out heavily as you push back down on him, making sure to make eye contact with him the whole time. As you continue to slowly suck him, he throws his head back when he feels himself hit the back of your throat. “Shit, so good.”
You try to time your bobbing to Jeongin’s thrusts. He’s listening to you in taking it slow and deep, for now. With your hands on Yeosang’s hips and Jeongin’s hands on yours, you form a deep moving train. You’re not going to lie, it’s hard to focus on one or the other with how full you feel. There’s no need to move your hips backwards into Jeongin as he’s kindly doing that for you with every stroke. And soon, Yeosang starts to guide you on him. He lets you keep the speed but he wants to see just how far you can take him, and you let him. The amount of arousal from your pussy and their cocks, combined with your spit, everything easily becomes a mess.
I.N watches as your ass presses into his hips with every thrust and how slick his dick is every time he pulls out. He smirks at the sight, then looks up to drink in the rest of you. He watches as your head goes up and down on Yeosang, reveling in the pleasure of you giving as well as receiving. The voyeur in him raves watching the two of you enjoy yourselves, and he gets an idea of how to aid with it. With his shit eating grin, he starts to roll his hips into you which brings another moan to your lips, and therefore another groan from Yeosang. “How do they look when I do that, Yeo? Do they seem to like it?”
He lifts his head from the bed to see your eyebrows knitted together, struggling to look at him. The sweat is forming on your forehead, causing your hair to stick together. A light chuckle escapes his lips as he drinks up your face. He glances up to his partner, seeing how proud he is of his accomplishment. “If that moan couldn’t tell you, their face definitely can.”
“Since I can’t see their face,” He pushes into you again with his full weight to press your hips fully against the bed. A higher pitched moan is muffled by Yeosang’s member but it gets the point across. “I’ll just need to keep hearing them.”
You remove your mouth from Yeosang, letting yourself actually get a decent breath in before I.N take this as his one opportunity to smack his hips into yours and get the reaction he wanted. You nails accidentally dig into Yeosang but he doesn’t seem to mind apart from the tighter grip to your hair. “Fuck, Jeongin! Ca-an’t focus when you do that.”
“There’s no need to focus, doll.” Yeosang grabs your chin in his hand, making you look at him. You can see just how much he’s enjoying this too with his temples and chest glistening from his sweat and his eyes hazy and lidded. “Just let me guide you and you can focus on yourself.”
With a smugness of your own, you ready yourself by giving him a long lick on the underside of his dick. He swallows deeply at your action before you say, “I’ve got to have my own fun.”
“Your own fu- shit, oh fuck me!” He almost regrets teasing you like that as you take him fully and quickly. He has to bite his lips and still his hips. He tries so hard not to thrust up into your mouth as you swallow him down like a champion. Your warm mouth is already starting to make him dribble pre-cum against your lips, so he can only imagine what your pussy would do. It almost makes him whimper at the thought. He tries to take matters into his own hands by eliciting the help from the other partner. “I think they want you to go faster, In-ah.”
“Oh do they?” When he does speed up, your drawn out moan lets him know he’s at a good pace and rhythm. A smirk comes to his face when he hears the break in your moan every time your hips meet his. He can see Yeosang starting to take control of your head movements now too. He feels pride in seeing you relinquish your pleasure to the two of them fully. “I guess you were right.”
Being in this position, it’s hard to not fall into their trap of letting them use you how they want. After all, once you give them rights to do what they wish, both of them start moaning like crazy. Yeosang has more of a gritty grunt that threatens into growling territory. You can only describe it as borderline animalistic. The only thing that keeps him from crossing that line is when you pay special attention to his tip when he brings you back up and there’s a short moment where the pitch increases towards a whine. That combined with his curses really creates a dominating sound.
Jeongin draws out his moans. They’re breathy and they’re loud, as if he’s trying to create a symphony with them. They’re pretty, that’s for sure, and he’s making sure you hear just how good you feel around him. When you squeeze your walls around him, that’s where you get the swears and praises that almost aren’t real words. He practically cuts himself off with more moans. You are going to be very surprised if he doesn’t give you a noise complaint in the morning from your landlord. Then again, all three of you can be at fault because you aren’t necessarily quiet either.
Though your sounds are muffled by a cock most of the time, there are moments where you pop off to breathe and one or two or three escape your lips. But you can’t really help it. Even when you jump right back onto the dancer, you aren’t fully quiet which causes Yeosang to moan out and the cycle continues.
“Fuck, I-I’m going to cum, shit.” Yeosang tells you two, his hips stuttering on the bed. He can barely contain himself as you hollow out your cheeks to get as much friction as possible. He had been leaking precum for a while, but didn’t want the night to end so soon.
“Me too, you feel too good, doll.” Jeongin smiles, his chest heaving and sweaty. “Maybe next time we can switch roles?”
“That would be fun, that way you can feel my cock stretch you out, huh?”
“And I don’t mind if you’re rougher.”
You look up at Yeosang, out of breath and ready to hear what he sounds like when he orgasms. Moving off of him for a second so you can prepare yourself, you let your hand stroke him before you say, “Get prepared to cum, Sangie. I’m not a spitter.”
Your mouth was latched to him like a leech, unwavering in sucking him dry. He felt what he can only akin to electricity jolting through him and pushing his hips up into your mouth. You start to lightly squeeze his balls, then roll them between your thumb and fingers to try and give him as much pleasure as possible. He threw his head back into the mattress, unable to focus on anything besides your mouth. When your tongue started to swirl around his tip, he knew he was a goner. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, ah fuck!” That was his mantra as he felt his orgasm bubble up and over and spill into your mouth. Once he started cumming, he looked at you to see your reaction and he swore he started cumming more as your hazy and fucked out eyes bore into his. He was definitely pumping so much of his cum into your mouth, he didn’t know if you could hold all of it. But sure enough once you knew he was done, you slid off of him while remaining eye contact and swallowed his whole load. You showed your sticky translucent white tongue to him as proof. “Holy fuck.”
You turned your head to Jeongin, who had slowed his pace so you can focus on the task at hand, and commanded, “Fuck me, Innie, hard.”
“With pleasure.” Once you turned your head back, he wasted no time in slamming into you to get him to his own prolonged orgasm. He could’ve sworn you were some kind of sex deity as you knew what buttons to press for Yeosang, and now him. Your ass bounced back to him with a loud slap every time and now that you weren’t gagged, he could hear just how loud you could be. When he would roll his hips into yours, you made sure you had a grip on his dick that made the friction so much more intense. This drove him crazy as he felt the burn of his own orgasm impending. He was getting sloppy with his thrusts which wasn’t hard given how much of your arousal had coated him at his point. You hadn’t even cum yet and you were so wet, it made his head spin. Soon, his moans reached the highest pitch of that night as he finally came inside the condom. His hips slowed down but still pushed you further into the bed. He heard your moans start to falter too, so he took matters into his own hands as his seed kept spilling. He reached between your hips and the bed, not allowing you to ride the edge of the mattress and instead rubbing your clit. “It’s your turn, doll.”
“Fuck me, ah!” You squealed, your body involuntarily contracting itself. Feeling so full with I.N inside you, his fingers roughly circling your clit, you couldn’t help but hold onto Yeosang’s thighs for dear life as you felt the burn of your orgasm approach to your core. While getting fucked in two holes, your orgasm was always two steps away and now its knocking on your door. You feel the coil release and the flood of your orgasm washes over you. You string out some more curses and moans and your body convulses with the power of your orgasm. Once Jeongin starts slowing down and starts milking your cum out of you, you can’t help but hum as your body takes a while to descend from your high.
The air around your three is hot and heavy from your cum, sweat, and panting. Trying to blink away the haze, Jeongin realizes he’s still inside of you. He gently pulls out of you and gently rubs your shoulders when you groan in protest. Yeosang gently scratches your scalp as the other man goes to find your bathroom to throw the condom away in. He watches you regain your breath and look up at him. He notices that while your eyes are still glazed, the lust and excitement is gone and is replaced by what he believes is fondness and content. “You doing okay?”
You nod lightly, starting to prop yourself up on your elbows. “I didn’t realize you two would have it in you.”
His chuckle is back to being bashful, the same chuckle that you adore. “We are full of surprises.”
“I can see that.” You wipe off your chin, covered in cum and drool at this point and look at the time on the clock. “Damn, didn’t realize it had gotten that late.” You hear footsteps enter your bedroom and see the birthday boy come back in, then watch him open your dresser drawer. “You know, usually, men take the panties that their lover wore as a trophy, not the one from their drawer.”
“I’m trying to be nice here.” He grows flustered at your comment, handing you a comfortable pair of underwear while grabbing his and Yeosang’s from off of the floor to put back on.
“I’m just teasing you.” You smile at him, grateful that he’s kind enough to think of you first in that way. You’re glad he can go back to the same, shy boy that you grew to form some kind of a relationship with.
“We can help you wash the sheets and everything tomorrow if you’d like.” Yeosang offered, pulling his briefs back up.
“If you don’t mind that we stay the night.” Jeongin sits at the edge of the bed, anticipating your answer.
“We’ll shower first and then wash the sheets in the morning.” You smile at them, watching their faces turn softer. “After breakfast.”
“I’ll help make it, Wooyoung has taught me some things.”
“But we can sleep in a little, right?”
You laugh and pull back the covers, ushering the boys to come join you. “Yes, but we have to go to sleep first. I’m fucking exhausted.”
Both of the boys smile and climb in on either side of you, nestling themselves into your sides for post-sex cuddles. While you are content sleeping on your back, eyes easily drooping closed from the events of tonight, the boys choose their positions with I.N resting his face in the crook of  your neck and Yeosang’s head on your chest. Yeosang takes a look at your face, watching you fall asleep easily, then looks up at Jeongin. Their eyes meet, and suddenly there’s a wave of fulfillment that the two share. That feeling lulls them to sleep, holding onto you dearly.
In the morning, you’re awoken to the light coming in between your blackout curtains. With a groan, you stretch lightly and open your eyes to see that Jeongin is on his back, already awake and scrolling on his phone. You smile lightly and reach up to grab his bicep before whispering, “Good morning.”
His head turns to you with his big toothy grin, his free hand reaching up to run his fingers through your hair. “Good morning, how do you feel?”
“Pretty good, I haven’t moved much to test how sore I am.” You do try to move a little but are stopped by Yeosang who has a strong grip on your waist. He stirs a little at your movement, but not enough to wake up. “How do you feel? After last night?”
“Honestly, it was probably the best birthday gift I could have received.” He looks at you genuinely, his chocolate eyes warm when meeting yours. “I never thought I would ever have the courage to do it.”
“Thankfully we were all in agreement of what we wanted.” You rub your eyes lightly, trying to rub the sleep from them. “It was a good time, for sure.”
“Well, good,” He smiles lightly before his smile turns into a yawn. “I would’ve slept longer, but your phone buzzing woke me up.”
“Can you hand it to me?” You ask, then watch him grab your phone from the nightstand. “Hopefully it’s not the company asking me to come in.” You unlock your phone to see a few notifications, one of which is from Jeongin himself. You click on your messages and see he sent you a text that just said “Non_Disclosure_Agreement lol”. You hit his chest lightly and say, “You fucking prick.”
He laughs at you, knowing that would think it’s funny. “You said you would sign an NDA.”
“Do I have to make them sign an NDA too?” Yeosang rouses from his sleep, only having caught part of the context in his half asleep state.
“Unless we want to continue this little arrangement?” You ask them, wondering if last night was just a one time thing or if they want more. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”
“I think Yeosang and I make a pretty good team.” The youngest looks at the other idol, a small smile on his face.
Yeosang buries his face in your neck, looking over at his partner in crime. “I can agree to that. I think we should do this again. Soon.”
“Soon, huh?” You chuckle, running your hands through both of their hair soothingly. “I guess we will have to see about that.”
“But I think we need to ask some more questions first.”
“Like what?”
“Like what’s your favorite animal?”
You can’t help but smile at them both, relishing in the way they’re both looking at you. Maybe this might become more than just an NDA situationship.
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lilacthebooklover · 6 months
Text
An Analysis of the Choreography and Physical Acting in the "Nerdy Prudes Must Die" Song
the choreography in this song is exquisite (lauren lopez, you never cease to amaze), and the use of physical skills in jon and will's acting is absolutely phenomenal. here, i'm going to explain why.
first of all, the facial expressions. will pulls off max's rage and loathing flawlessly, down to way his face scrunches up and his lip curls at the start of the song as he walks through the audience. the movements are jerky, his head tilts and the broad gestures of his hands showing both how confident and furious he is. richie seems terrified, the way he crosses his arms over his chest and backs away at the start of the song showing just how scared he is- the actions look almost involuntary. he's shaking, and looks like he's on the verge of tears.
max is confident as ever, believing himself to be invincible. he bares his teeth like a predator on the hunt, and richie runs like his prey. this is a game to max, that much is obvious. he has full control here- richie tries to run behind him, but max holds out a hand to his chest and turns his head, and richie cannot move. his chest heaves and he hunches in on himself, petrified, after max moves away again. even the little things, like max shaking his hand as though disgusted after touching richie as he walks away, have such a cool effect on the performance.
as max talks about the smoke club, he adds their special hand gesture- he knows who they are, and could quite possibly have been a part of them at some point. then, he forcefully throws his arms to the side, glaring out at richie.
after that is one of my favourite bits of choreography in the scene: the levitation segment.
max steps forward and lifts his arm as though holding something up, and richie rises too, head tilted away, back arched away, neck exposed. then, max throws his arm down, therefore throwing richie down, and jon pulls off the fall perfectly. the syncronisation is on point, and that tumble looks painful.
the power max holds over richhie is clear even from afar. this works not only in conveying his control and the fruitlessness of richie's attempted escape in this scene, but also works as a metaphor for the control he's had over the cast throughout their school years. pete's afraid to talk to steph because max forbids it, richie's afraid to make friends because max has branded him as a loser. there are so many layers to the effect his bullying's had on pete, richie and ruth, and him quite literally controlling richie without even touching him works excellently to demonstrate this.
richie runs off, scrambling to his feet and towards the audience, where max came from. max doesn't pay attention to him, caught up in imagining the aftermath of the victory he knows is coming. he looks out to the audience at "the jock you demonised", then turns to richie, addressing him again. richie looks over and sees that max is watching him, freezing for a moment before running again, quicker than before. but max just raises his arms, and richie startles at the exit to the theatre; it seems like max has been able to lock them in using his lovely new ghost powers.
at "buried and left me", max moves closer to the floor, almost reenacting what happened. with each new accusation, he moves closer to richie, then points at "you pushed me off the edge": he's blaming richie for what's happening.
max's tongue sticks out in apparent disgust at the next segment, even the flouncy hand movements he uses mocking how "well-behaved" the world is. the next gesture he does is condescending too, like he's explaining to richie that he's "too weak to be enslaved".
most of the next chorus just seems like dancing, but that in itself holds a message. max is having fun with this. again, it's all a game; he's toying with richie, with everyone, high on power. he speaks to someone who isn't there, vividly envisioning his dreams.
at "expose the bloody lines", his hands move out slowly, being exposed to the audience. then, max looks at them, literally saying that the blood will be on his hands. he plans to kill every "nerd" at hatchetfield high, imagining doing so with vigour.
i believe that the line "watch me spawn/ and prey upon/ you anti-socialites" could have a dual meaning. the first being that he is, again, a predator, and the nerds are his prey. the second, however, could be "pray upon", tying into his god complex- he's still addressing the nerds, telling them to watch & pray upon him. here, he does a classic, monster-style pose; the very opposite of a god, but an excellent callback to 'literal monster' earlier on.
he doesn't even look at richie as he runs past, max just raising his arm and easily throwing richie to the floor. the use of levels here is phenomenal; it's a perfect way of showing that max is the one with all the power here, richie completely at his mercy, and max has none.
as max walks away, richie can be seen trying to crawl away in the background, only to freeze when max turns around again and focuses on him, knowing there's no way of escaping. he's curled in on himself and trembling, but he stays where he is, still looking like he's about to start sobbing.
max's face softens, looking almost sympathetic at the line "who will pray for me". it's a sharp contrast to the order from seconds before, and richie hastens to follow it, slightly delayed as he sits up and discreetly tries to continue crawling back. max's face hardens again at "when i'm gone", and while richie continues moving back, he's focused now, arm shaking as much as his voice.
at "or until another richie comes along", max leans over him, back to being as intimidating as possible. richie sits up further in alarm, looking like he's about to run for it and stretching a hand out as he asks max to repeat himself.
where richie is weak, barely able to move, max is still full of energy, his movements much more fluid now that he's used to this form. up until them, they've been jerky and sharp- a nice nod to the dismemberment of his limbs in the waylon house- but now, they're even stronger than before. he's putting his all into this, because if he's going out, he's going out with a bang.
he's not talking to richie anymore when the chorus repeats. "is this the eternal dark without a dawn?" shows that clearly enough. he's wondering who will pray for him when he's gone, and the answer is no-one. he's seen how things have changed, and in the grand scheme of things, it's clear max meant nothing, not even to the place he had such an influence on. and that affects him more than anything- he sees himself as a god, and does not appreciate people preferring richie lipschitz of all people to him.
he turns back to richie, pointing at him again as the chorus repeats, his movements once again giving the impression that he's envisioning what's about to happen. the other cast members march in like soldiers, oblivious to what's happening to richie as they focus on their own lives and social statuses, characters like grace and pete obvious amongst them- neither of whom had too large of a reaction to richie's death, too busy running from max and the police. meanwhile, richie himself is forcing himself to do what max says, face scrunched up like he's bracing for an attack.
at "i'm not a loser", he leans forward, eyes tightly shut as he tries to hold onto the reality he's formed for himself since max's death. he's losing everything fast, but by defying max's order of repeating after him, he holds onto a shred of that newfound confidence and social standing.
at the same time, max's stance is broad, his fists coming down as he blames richie for both of their deaths, trying to make richie believe that too. it takes him a moment to realise richie isn't copying him anymore, but when he does, he turns to him furiously with a yell, glaring spitefully. the lighting change here is also very effective (creating a more solemn atmosphere and plunging the stage into much colder, foreboding colours than the anger and tension of what had come just before), but i won't go too deeply into that since this is an analysis of movement.
as richie begs for max to not kill him, he shakes his head quickly, panting as he stays below him, unable to defend himself. at his second "i'm not a loser", his mouth twitches into something akin to a smile, because richie isn't a loser, not anymore. he's found his place, he's well-liked, he's worthy of being friends with, and he won't let max convince him otherwise anymore. so instead, he tries to convince max that he's right. and max does not appreciate it in the slightest.
he shifts back into his jock persona, straightening up and using the same condescending voice and jerks of his chin as he did before his death. he wants to intimidate richie, and by using that familiar attitude and approaching him slowly, max wipes the half-smile off of richie's face. richie jerks, falling a little as he tries to get to his feet. it's an excellent echo to the earlier hallway scene between him and max; he's reverting back to that state of powerlessness and terror again, but now, it's further exemplified by the threat on his life.
max comes to a stop in front of richie, placing the audience's focus on himself as richie looks up at him desperately. he's in power, he's above richie, and he demands attention as he looks down on him.
pete, steph, ruth and grace stand behind him in the shadows, steadfast and stoic as they look straight ahead, not at richie or max. they don't seem to care about his death, and have hidden max's, and they're not there to help him get away, no matter how much he wishes they could.
max makes himself seem larger, looking at his hands and holding them out like claws, seeming like the true image of a monster. he stands directly over richie as the lights dim, richie pleading and curling in on himself more with every second that passes. just before the blackout, max dives down and grabs richie by the throat, a sweeping motion that seems almost inhuman.
to conclude, this song is a masterpiece, and lauren lopez is a genius at choreography. i might edit this later, it's around 1am and i am very tired, but i'd love to hear your thoughts in the replies/reblogs! i'll probably also do an analysis on this song based more on the vocal acting and lyrics themselves because i've been listening to it non-stop this past week- maybe i'll add some elements of lighting in too; it's very effective in this scene, especially at the "who will pray for me" part. thanks for reading!
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9w1ft · 6 months
Note
Hi 9, can I ask you something DNPy?
I am a baby kaylor so I am still gathering and processing info and lore; my question is, during 2017, do we know for sure kaylor were still together? I mean, is there any lore or coincidences that support this?
🤍 thanks
nothing dnp-y about this ☺️ there’s plenty of lore and coincidences. here are some things for you to consider:
karlie put out a celebratory valentine’s day vlog in 2/2017 where she does obvious visual copying of the vogue best best friend video, and taylor recorded the reputation at&t now promo sometime before rep release in 11/2017 which also copies parts of the vogue best best friends video.
reputation promo photography shows taylor wearing both the evil eye ring and the vsfs angel wing ring, which are both kaylor rings. here is one example but you can look up more, like the ups promo video or other at&t promo photos. because promo would have been done months before release date, this implies she was more than fine wearing kaylor symbols in the middle of 2017.
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yes. vsfs angel wing ring is a kaylor ring through and through. go actually read the masterpost if you haven’t. i’ve put a lot of work into it!
taylor wears the vsfs angel wing ring and the evil eye ring when recording several rep songs, which can be seen in the behind the scenes making of a song clips (check youtube) and footage from miss americana
the J necklace made its first public appearance dec 26, 2016, and can be assumed that we’re supposed to assume it was a birthday or christmas present. and she’s wearing it during the filming of the recording of call it what you want, which also references the necklace. so assuming you don’t believe toe is real, her happily recording call it what you want after dec 13 2016, and then performing it with a huge smile on her face on SNL in nov 2017 are both hints
call it what you want is a song that is obviously meant to sound like she says karlie in several different ways. karlie what you want / call it what you want karlie / karlie would you want to?
there’s the whole business of the clip of taylor singing call it what you want acoustic while playing guitar, the idea that she’s debuting the song to karlie in this clip. it makes sense because as i mention above, the song is sung in a way that sneaks in ways for her to sing “karlie” and taylor is wearing the vsfs ring in the clip.
there’s also the point about how a lot of us who really know what karlie’s voice sounds like (since we have watched so much of her content) can hear karlie singing along to the song, when taylor points to the filmer for the line “i did one thing right” as well as the “yes” part
karlie posted from london in december 2016 and december 2017. and in between we also know she was in london throughout 2017 because she went to london fashion week, british fashion awards, several other events. just search the internet for “karlie kloss 2017 london” etc. this pokes holes in any argument that puts taylor running away to london as some sort of kaylor disqualifier. karlie was seen in london too. she was also posting from nice france over the summer in 2017, which is just a chunnel away from london if you think about it. she was plenty close more than several times to where people like to say taylor was.
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derek tweeted what is basically an easter egg to call it what you want being about karlie, just about a week before it was released
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also another big group of things is just how there’s an obvious reason for taylor and karlie not being seen together throughout 2017:
taylor and karlie disappeared only as the election results came in. they were literally seen together on the eve of the general election in 11/2016. its at this point, literally from this day, that taylor begins wearing the vsfs angel wing ring (read the masterpost linked above). by process of deduction you can prove she’s wearing it in the pic of her and karlie kissing lorde’s cheeks, because she was papped wearing it to the party. i just mean this to say that it makes sense that they stopped being seen for 2017, because they had a reason. the election results.
the glitch 2190 days of our love blackout line represents the amount of time between when they went dark in 2016 til midnights release
in the lavender haze explainer video taylor describe how she and her lover had to combat weird rumors for the past six years. this also neatly fits the time between when they went dark after the election and the release of midnights
miss americana and the heartbreak prince, which is about the 2016 election, includes the line “it’s you and me that’s my whole world”
call it what you want, again, is a song about running away with someone and nobody hearing about you for months, which fits the rep social media hiatus where taylor was not seen
this is more of an opinion i guess but i happen to think that taylor’s “darkest night” was sometime between 2016 and 2017 and i think that call it what you want’s “starry eyes sparking up my darkest night” connects to renegade’s “i tapped on your window on your darkest night” and the lover album prologue and this continued theming of karlie having been there for taylor when taylor was at her lowest.
i could go on and on with the lyric parallels that show the narrative post-election but it’s kind of never ending so anyways.. i’ll keep my list of things to everything right here. hope this all helps!
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fencer-x · 5 months
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SasaMyaa FujiSai Event (afternoon) Report
So! Today I attended the afternoon part of the SasaMyaa "Fujisai" event, a kind of post-Graduation Movie event to look back on it and have fun with the cast, which included the VAs of Sasaki, Miyano, Hirano, Kagiura, and Tashiro and Kuresawa as well. For ease of readers' understanding, I'll use the character names for the VAs throughout this report.
The stage (Yamano Hall, in Yoyogo, Tokyo) was set up to look like an actual festival, with little booths for games around the stage. This will become relevant later XD The audience was overwhelmingly women, but there were a few guys there too (including a few clearly there on their own as fans and not as boyfriends/husbands to their fan-wives).
The event opened with a small video recap of the movie, and then Tashiro and Kuresawa came out to introduce everyone as the MCs for the event. There was a huge monitor over the stage, through which were streamed live feeds of the actors (ostensibly for closeups so that the people in the back could get a good look at the stage, but also probably for future DVD releases).
All the actors introduced themselves, but when it came to Hirano's VA's turn to introduce himself, he shouted "Hirano~!" as a prompt for the audience. Except the audience had no idea what we were supposed to respond with (Taiga???), so he was greeted with DEAD SILENCE. Poor guy XD But then after a brief discussion of why he bombed so hard, Kagi's VA decided to try it too, and "Kagiura~!" was greeted with "Akira~!" from the audience XDDD He then explained that he'd really wanted to do a call-response with a different phrase, so we all let him say, "Hirano-san is so…" and then we responded with, "…nice!" He did this several times throughout the event--Kagi's VA is very clearly the biggest KagiHira shipper out there XD
The next segment was spent discussin favorite scenes from the movies, decided in pairs (SasaMyaaand KagiHira, and then Tashiro and Kuresawa chose by themselves). This was made even better because, in MST3K style, the guys would riff on the scene while it was being played on the monitors lol. Sasaki's VA in particular loved lampooning his own performance. The favorite scenes were as follows:
1) SasaMyaa: the opening scene on the train platform 2) Kuresawa: Miyano and Satoko's conversation in the park 3) Tashiro: Sasaki summoning Miyano to the empty classroom after he got his acceptance letter 4) KagiHira: the very last scene with the smooch in the committee room, but SPECIFICALLY the crumbs of Kagi and Hirano you get in that scene
The next segment was UPCOMING NEWS!
Sanrio collab! I know zilch about these characters except that Hello Kitty is paired with Ogasawara, and that feels Correct. (Dec 18 to Jan 8)
Illustration Exhibition for SasaMyaa/KagiHira + Yurukyun BL from gene pixiv (Dec 23 to Jan 15)
The stage play is going to stream on U-next! It'll be a lot easier for people to see it now, and I'm hoping that means a DVD release is right around the corner. It deserves it!!
Then it was TIME FOR SOME GAMES. The object was for each of the four main cast members to play each of the three games for 30 seconds each, 90 seconds total, and whoever got the most points in each game in total would win. The games were:
1) Super Ball Scoop (scooping up as many little rubber bouncy balls from a bucket of water using a scoop made of tissue and ergo prone to breaking after just a few scoops) 2) Ring Toss (toss rings onto a stake) 3) Shooting (use a little cork gun to knock over targets) [one extra challenge here is that the targets were all color-coded in the characters' colors and you were only supposed to knock over your own character's targets--except Miyano's blue and Kagi's teal are VERY SIMILAR COLORS so the VAs were whining about not being able to tell them apart XDDD]
All in all, these were the final totals after everyone's attempts: Miyano: 33 points Kagiura: 65 points Sasaki: 83 points Hirano: 64 points
A clear win for Sasaki's VA XDDDD
The next corner was a weird goofy 'fortune telling' corner where Tashiro and Kuresawa's VAs pretended to be fortune tellers for the two couples, except the VAs weren't playing their characters, they were just randomly improving being some kind of couple, idk XD the KagiHira segment went totally off the rails and resulted in Kagi and Hirano's VAs rushing each other on stage into a passionate hug, which you can understand the audience was THRILLED by XD
And last but not least for the event was…an original short story live reading. This was brand new content, performed live in person. ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC.
The setting was one month post-graduation (so a bit before current canon, but not too much), and it opened with Miyano and Kuresawa waiting for Tashiro to meet up with them. After Tashiro arrives late from helping an old lady carry some heavy bags home, they recall the previous year's cultural festival (aka their second-year festival, Sasaki and Hirano's third-year festival).
Elsewhere, Sasaki and Hirano are hanging out, having run into each other. Hirano asks what Sasaki is up to, he says he's killing time to meet up with Miyano for a date later--what about Hirano? Hirano is, of course, cagey, but says "something along those lines." They too recall the previous year's cultural festival and how Tashiro had spilled juice on some cardboard boxes, sending Miyano running to them looking for spare cardboard boxes they could use.
Hirano had tried getting in contact with Hanzawa to find out where more boxes were, but he was out of reach, which really ticked Hirano off. Miyano "casually" mentioned reading in a BL manga recently that getting a hug from someone was a great stress-reliever, as it triggered a release of endorphins and made you feel much calmer. Hirano thinks this is bunk and goes off to look for Hanzawa himself.
Left alone, Sasaki brings up all the stuff he's been having to do to prep for this festival…and booooyyy has it really heaped a bunch of stress on him, and does Miyano think that a hug might help? It sure would be nice…
Just as he's about to laugh it off as a joke, like usual, Miyano grudgingly agrees, if Sasaki really is that stressed.
Back in the present, Miyano recalls this moment himself and squeaks.
Hirano gets a text (from presumably Kagi) and parts ways with Sasaki, telling him "Say hi to Miyano for me." When he meets up with Kagi, Kagi asks if he's been waiting long, and Hirano brushes him off, saying, "Nah, I was just talking to Sasa--er, an old classmate of mine." Good for you, Hirano; you've finally learned to avoid triggering Kagi's jealousy unnecessarily. Gold star!
Hirano mentions remembering that previous cultural festival, and Kagi recalls it too--especially the part where he'd heard that hugging someone could help reduce their stress and had taken his chance with Hirano then. When Hirano had been confused (but not pushing him away) about why Kagi was hugging him, Kagi had explained that it was part of their 10-second-touching time, doing the countdown and everything (bruh idk why but it did something to me finally hearing actual mention of that rule in the characters' voices! Felt like it's closer to being animated, even though it's definitely going to take some time…)
The main thing I took from this short story was: KAGI AND HIRANO STILL AREN'T DATING IN FUCKING OCTOBER??!?!?! FUCK ME.
Aaaand that was about it! I can't attend the evening show, but I'm excited to hear what happens there! Hope you enjoyed this little peek!
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pikp0kcas3 · 6 months
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I HAVE NOT SEEN THIS MENTIONED YET AT ALL HELLO
I’ve been thinking about this nonstop since the episode came out so I wanna point it out in a long rant about it.
There’s a leitmotif in mammon’s musical episode! To clarify, a leitmotif is a recurring tune associated with a particular character or idea. This one in particular is an excellent musical representation of Fizz’s character growth, and I’d like to explain why, because I’ve been obsessed with this and I tear up every time I hear this theme. IT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY
The leitmotif plays thrice in the episode. The first two are the same track, while the third is a variation of it.
The first time:
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When Fizz is gushing about his passion and his dream to work with Mammon. There’s not much else going on, but Fizz is clearly in awe of his idol, as to be expected. He’s starstruck by the idea that he could have a chance to meet someone he admires so much. It’s a scene full of the wonder and excitement little Fizz encompasses.
And then the second:
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When Fizz is communicating with the deaf fan! Oh god, oh god. I cried at this part, as I know a lot of people did too, because this part is so sweet and it’s so so important.
This is the reason Fizz kept doing his job. Because I think he realized that this fan looked up to him the same way Fizz did to Mammon. And, looking at him— the little guy has broken horns too. Just like Fizz.
Fizz sees himself in that kid.
Fizz has always wanted to put a smile on people’s faces, has always wanted to be the person kids look up to. And when he sees that happen, it’s probably what inspires him to keep going.
Now, what do these two instances have in common for the exact same track to play? I think that it’s a good emphasis on the kindness Fizz has when he’s a kid, and then, as an adult, the quieter gentleness underneath his stage persona.
Fizz is a kind person by nature, but the image that he has to maintain for Mammon’s brand is like— horniness and innuendos and sneering bravado cranked up to 11. So his audience never really sees the real side of him. The only time he gets to be more like himself is probably when a younger fan approaches him, which likely doesn’t happen a lot, considering the boatload of money you have to pay to even meet the performers, which I assume is added to what you’d have to scrape together to attend the event in the first place.
Another thing I noticed these two scenes have in common: The creepy fan’s appearance.
If you listen, Fizz’s leitmotif is overturned by an ominous shift in tone when the same obsessive fan shows up. I think it’s saying that even though there are undoubtedly positive experiences, they can very easily be overcome by the negative ones. Our brains are essentially hardwired to fixate on the negative experiences because of the possibility of the threat to safety. It wouldn’t be surprising if that’s what happened to Fizz.
Okay. Now, for the third and final time Fizz’s leitmotif plays:
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Right after Fizz’s two minute notice. Right after he tells Mammon to go fuck himself.
This time, instead of the sweet and small melody with the subtle isolated instrumentation, it’s a fanfare. A full-force, fully orchestrated, trumpets blazing fanfare version of Fizz’s leitmotif. It’s kicking you right in the feels and it’s not hiding anymore.
It’s representing Fizz finally stepping into his own. Representing him standing up for himself. Representing his pride and his courage and him finally believing in his own self-worth.
And no one can tell me that it is pure coincidence that the music swells right at this moment.
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Another beautiful thing is that the music is indeed cut off, just like the prior two scenes mentioned, but it’s by Fizz himself.
It happens when he finally announces what he’s been wanting to do after so many years of being manipulated, abused, and controlled. And for once, the decision he makes is all of his own accord.
And that’s because of the sheer amount of self-confidence and the courage he’s built throughout this entire episode.
Isn’t that such a beautiful thing?
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ultimateloserboy · 1 year
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i cant go to sleep until i release the thoughts so here they are. im sorry if this is a bit more nonsensical or rambleish than my other ones, im very very tired but anyway
this is going to be a bit upsetting for the lovey-dovey sunshine and rainbows crowd but people give red guy and duck WAYY too much credit when it comes to their relationship (or at least how it used to be) like they DID NOT //start out// functional AT. ALL. they used to go together like a car and a tree. and honestly this makes them even more interesting
They’re both insecure in different areas, and they react differently to these insecurities as well. from what ive gathered, red guy dislikes how “odd” he is. he tries to act bitter and uncaring about everything and everyone, either to fit in with the other red things, or to keep himself distracted or distanced from the world hes stuck in. he distances himself from his friends as well. this is a horrible contrast with ducks outward and open love of his friends (despite how horribly he treats them lmao but i digress) duck reveals in the family episode that despite loving himself, he wants other people to love him too. duck is not necessarily insecure in himself, hes the best one after all, but he does feel very lonely. he feels like nobody loves him as much as he loves himself, like the only person he truly has is himself because nobody else is willing to love him. this obviously makes him feel very alone. this is why red guys denial and dismissal of his friends hits ducks insecurities harshly and directly, even if its not intentional.
once i got to the fridge scene during my first watchthrough i was very confused. firstly because i was utterly flabbergasted that they were gay for some reason (i had never even considered it), and secondly because ducks reply caught me off guard. duck is a very full-of-himself character. so why would he be surprised to find out someone likes looking at him? shouldnt he reply with something like “well yeah duh you big stupid idiot im the prettiest and the best etc etc”?? well i understand now why duck reacted that way. he doesnt get many compliments from anyone but himself, probably talking in the mirror. and he ESPECIALLY hadnt gotten many compliments from red guy at this point. red guy denied being his friend very adamantly. EVEN AT HIS FUNERAL. HIS FUNERAL!!! and yes red guy does realize he misses duck eventually, but duck isnt even there to see it, and when he comes back he finds himself literally replaced?? (like.. red guy ur fumbling so hard right now. fumbling straight into a divorce. and ur not even married yet man. but anyway, back on topic)
slowly throughout the series red guy starts being more open, and whether he realizes it or not his whole uncaring act isnt that good to begin with. my favorite small detail during the funeral is that red guy calls the plates “our plates” without even realizing it, right in the middle of denying his best-friendship with duck. like dude who do you think youre fooling other than yourself!?
with all of this considered, despite red guys poor performance of denial, it’s perfectly understandable for duck to be surprised when red guy openly confesses his honest emotions. an up-front confession of feelings is not something red guy ever wants or allows himself to do, so duck was probably confused as hell.
my favorite part of this scene is how red guy is looking away when he says it, still clearly embarrassed but saying it anyway. this is a HUGE deal for his character. it was a character development that had been slowly growing throughout the tv series, and by episode six i think it was as close to completion as its ever been. he does pull the whole “its fine just ignore it” thing with duck earlier in the episode, but he does it more to calm him down in this context. the fridge scene confirms to me that red guy has almost stopped running, not necessarily from the house, but from his friends. he has finally let himself love them. hes finally let himself admit not just to himself, but to duck, that hes important to him.
this is why i think theyre so interesting, because these two characters are cynical assholes. that’s how becky and joe have described them at times. these characters are not the best of people, theyre both messed up people in a messed up and confusing world, so of course they wont be perfect. but thats the beauty of it. they dont want to hurt eachother, so they try their best to change. they try their best to fight against the cruelty of their minds and surroundings and let themselves love eachother even if only for a second, even if in the end it wont really matter
ok im going to sleep now goodnight
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crash-and-cure · 2 years
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If I Were You Part 2 (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)
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Summary: Reader tries to navigate the immeadiate aftermath after that fateful night with Elvis, to varying success. WIth his return to performing on the horizon reader questions is if there is a way of forward that causes the least amount of damage for both parties. Elvis sees only one path forward.
Note: This is based on @venus-haze One shot If I Were You. Please go read that before this because it’s absolutely incredible. And yes before anyone asks I had her full permission to continue the story and she has been on board the whole time. I swear on my life this was originally a one-shot to continue on and let it be known what I saw for reader and Elvis’ future. Then about 5k into this story and realizing there were so many scenes I wanted to add within the first week alone for these two, I just went all in and decided to restrain this chapter to a week. There will be at least one more chapter following this. Reader is cis female, and aside from that no other descriptors are used. Full disclosure I do use this song, which, while never performed by him, has all the makings of one, and it fit to well in the scene it’s in. I do have a Bachelor’s in Psychology, but I am not a therapist, so nothing here should be treated as genuine mental health advice. That being said there is alot more focus on reader this time around. Please read the warnings before deciding to read.
Word Count: 10.5k
Warnings: Yandere fic so there are themes of obsessive , manipulative, and delusional behavior as well as some heavy allusions to blackmail, emotional and otherwise, here too. There is an informal therapy session depicted here as well in which topics such as performance anxiety, sex, exploitation, and substance abuse are discussed. Depictions of drinking that may be seen as delving into alcohol abuse territory, as well as some other erratic behavior on readers part. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes oral (f. recieving), pentrative sex (m/f), spanking, some daddy kink, and other dom/sub undertones sprinkled throughout. And of course Elvis’ mommy issues and readers daddy issues (truly aa match made in hell). Finally depictions of a toxic relationship that include power imbalances, manipulation, and uses of coercion. Please do not interact if you are under 18.
Part 1  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5
My Masterlist
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You kept that bottle of wine, you can’t fully explain why though. Worse yet you kept it in the bottom drawer of your desk, and every time you opened that drawer these past few months you were always secretly hoping that it wouldn’t be there and would always feel the disappointment when it continued to be there out of your sight. How poetic you thought idly as Elvis forced open that locked drawer after curiosity over the glass clinking sound had gotten the better of him.
Recognizing the bottle he let out a dark chuckle. “Well I’ll be damned. Thought you didn’t take gifts from us patients, Doc?” he said, very much amused as he used his teeth to take the cork out. “Don’t worry though mama,” he paused taking a swig, “I forgive ya’. Least I could do after all ya’ gave tonight.” 
Shaking both in shock and humiliation, you grabbed the bottle and after nursing it for a beat too long, you proceeded to ride him to oblivion as he sat in your own desk chair in some twisted attempt to regain control of the situation. Though the closer you got to your peak, it became clear that this was all in vain. The way he sat there, lounging back, one hand behind his head and the other leaving finger-sized bruises on your rear, guiding you as you desperately chased your release, he was the very image of a King on his throne. It was on that thought that you proceeded to shatter around him once again that night, drifting as he whispered in your ear what a good girl you were. 
The rest of the night proceeded as a blur as the next conscious thought you had would be wondering how you were going to get to work the next day as he drove you home in his own car. You don’t quite remember giving him directions, but for the sake of your sanity you just assumed you did. And in some perverted form of chivalry, he even walked you to your front door and gave you a tender, almost sweet, kiss as though he didn’t have you bent over your own desk not even an hour ago, before departing into the night. 
You’re in a fugue state as you work toward your nightly routine. You don’t taste your dinner, you don’t hear the music from your neighbor’s radio, and you especially don’t feel his cum flaking on the skin beneath your blouse. Nope. Definitely not. You’re too ashamed to even look at yourself going so far as to shower with your lights off. 
As you settle into bed that night, your sleep is fitful as you try your best to decide what to do about this night. In the end, with all the evidence of your tryst washed away, you resolve to ignore these feelings at the very least until you have to see him again. 
What you can’t ignore the next morning is your car, that had no business being there, in its usual spot, along with your keys in the ignition. Not really trying to think too hard on the implications you would rush to work hoping to clean up before your first client of the day.
To your surprise everything in your office is already in order: No furniture askew, no suspicious stains on the desk or chairs, not even the panties that you swore didn’t come home with you anywhere in sight. The only proof that last night even happened at all was the broken desk drawer and the slight tenderness on your ass.
The days following that session were hazy at best to you as, even during work, your mind was occupied by him. You formulated plans as to how best to address what happened and why it must never happen again. Elvis has always had a reputation as a bit of a cad, so perhaps you can both treat this as a one time thing. Something that he had to get out of his system in order to successfully further his treatment. Even in session he confessed that he had trouble with maintaining monogamy to almost all of his previous partners - though, you thought, he did immediately follow that up with the justification that he was looking for the “right” girl. 
You pushed that notion away, he will understand - he has to understand - that it would be better to return to the previous professional relationship. So come Thursday morning, you take steps to effectively unsex yourself; no makeup, loose fitting pants and blazer, hair in a less than flattering style, the whole nine yards. All of this done in an effort to make yourself a less viable option for a sexual partner .
As you leave your apartment you catch a glimpse of your ill-fitting attire and you can’t help but be reminded how as a child you would wear your fathers suits and declare you were going to be a Doctor like him. As you would swim in his oversized coat, you remember feeling lucky to receive a dismissive glance your way and monotone orders to return the clothes back where you found them. You rush out to your car before you can dwell on that train of thought.
If your other patients noticed your sudden change in style that day, no one mentioned it. You had previously taken pride in the level of professionalism you were able to maintain, but in the grand scheme of things, looking frumpy for one day of work could hardly be deemed the worst thing you have done. 
As 4 PM rolled around you were still in the process of convincing yourself that you were ready to confront this head on by not confronting it and acting as though nothing ever happened. You can do this- you have to do this- you told yourself. 
4:15 PM, you were ready for the knock on the door that would not come that night. 
4:30 PM, you were still waiting in a rigid state with your pen and notebook clenched in your hands, full attention at the wooden door, like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. You shudder at the comparison. 
4:45 PM, you were justifying his tardiness with his upcoming concert, and even with your barebones knowledge of performing, you realize that these types of things are planned weeks, even months in advance. And so you wait.
5 PM and you’re already mentally packing up to go back to your apartment. You know that all of your things are sitting at your desk but you wanted to spend as little time looking at it as possible. These past few days, you had the irrational fear that even so much as looking at where your indiscretion happened would tip off everybody. You disregard that reflexive response that makes you clench your thighs together when you look in its direction. 
5:15 PM you can no longer ignore the stiffness in your back but you're doing your best to disregard the feeling of rejection that has settled in the pit of your stomach. Because this seems to be the place where you make your worst decisions, you decide to pull out that damned bottle of wine. You see the teeth marks on the cork, and you push down the part of you that blushes at the thought of putting your mouth where his was. 
It is in that moment with the stopper wrenched free and you thinking about a man you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about, does the shrill tone of your office phone ring. It’s embarrassing really how quickly your hand shoots to answer it, moreso when you answer with a mouthful of cork. 
“Hww-” you quickly spit it out. “Hello this is Dr. Y/L/N.”
It is little comfort when you recognize the voice. 
“Baby I’m so sorry that I missed tonight, but I coulda swore I told one a my boys to let ya’ know I wouldn’t make it.” he said apologetically. “We got rehearsal’s all this week for Saturday and my minds been all over the damn place.”
Baby, you thought as you took a quick gulp of wine. Early on, he had slipped and called you tha, maybe a month or two into his treatment. You, as gently as you could, informed him how you would appreciate it if he wouldn’t refer to you as such. He reassured you that he meant nothing by it as he apparently calls everyone that from time to time. You accepted that answer and didn’t say anything the few times he would say it later on. 
Looking at the bottle in your hand, you had spent the last few days blaming it for being your first misstep in your career, but retrospect is funny like that and you’re now realizing it was one in a series of many over the last year. With him continually elbowing his way back into your life, you doubt it will be your last. 
“That’s alright Mr. Presley, just please don’t let this happen again in the future.” is your response, wanting to end this conversation as quickly as possible. “I’ll see you for your next session on Monday.” 
“Speakin’ a that. I was hoping we could reschedule today for Saturday,” he said before you could lift the receiver from your ear. 
“Mr Presley, I don’t work on Saturday’s,” you half-heartedly protested. 
“Then you’re free,” he quickly countered. “Doc, it’s just that… I’mma need some help gettin’ my head straight before the show, cause it’s been over a year since I done this, and even longer since I done a show sober.”
You immediately clock what he’s trying to do, and for all the ill-advised actions you’ve taken in the last week, you didn’t get your license out of a cracker jack box. “Elvis, that is in no way appropri-”
“Well it’s the show,” he quickly cuts you off. There is a dark edge to his tone as he continues. “And what happened on Monday. I think I really need to talk to someone ‘bout it.”
It doesn’t have to be you, goes unsaid.
He’s got you there and you know it, and currently you’re in no state of mind to try to find a way around this. So rather than doing anything semi-responsible and enforcing the boundary you have set, you down most of what’s left of the bottle and agree. 
“Darlin’ that’s perfect. If there’s one thing I can promise, it's a helluva show” You can almost feel the self-satisfied grin over the phone. “I also been thinkin’ ‘bout what you said with not lettin’ people know that you’re my therapist, and you’re right.”
The neck of the bottle is clenched so tightly in your fist, you’re concerned it may shatter at this point. That earlier feeling of rejection being quickly replaced with dread.
“So I think I best I send you a lil’ somethin’ to wear for the show, I want them knowin’ you’re my girl, not my shrink, and you don’t exactly dress the part Doll.” he says this with such a cool authority that leaves no room for argument.
You stared off into space with this offer. You’re idly reminded of months ago when you had him practice an exercise in control. He did, you observed, have an excessive need for control in almost every aspect of his life, but this mindset also held the detrimental effect that everything that went wrong was also his fault due to the control he felt. So you came up with this exercise so you could both figure out where it is reasonable to be in control, and in which places he could relinquish it a bit. One aspect he mentioned that he often controlled was the way his girlfriends dressed, which you will admit made you do a double take. The only thing you commented on that detail was that so long as both parties were consenting he was truly not in control of the entire situation. 
Doll indeed, you think bitterly. Did he take it as a challenge? Whatever the case may be, one thing becomes evident. You have no doubt what his intentions are anymore, no overwhelming emotions clouding his judgment, nor any post-orgasmic high having him say things he doesn’t mean. 
As you look at the near empty bottle of wine while you sit in the room where your career has lived and will inevitably die, you can hardly say the same thing about yourself.
Mark had insisted you keep it that night months ago, and after realizing that there was no way of returning it to Elvis without bringing up the incident again, you kept it in your office for the sole reason that it felt wrong to keep it in your apartment. Too Intimate, you had thought. You begin to wonder how your life would have been had you told Mark why you wished to refuse the wine. Maybe you would have been strong enough to put your foot down and keep this relationship professional… or maybe he would have taken the same approach you took, and let it slide under the guise of Elvis not knowing any better at the time. Elvis seemed to have that effect on people, of wanting to justify his actions in spite of it everything.
Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the way he sounded when exhausted, or just maybe it was looking into Pandora's proverbial drawer and finally finding those lost panties with the evidence of your attraction to him stained into the fabric. Whatever it was you found yourself finishing off the bottle and agreeing to his requests - demands really-  and drunkenly trying your best to rationalize to yourself why you shouldn’t burn your license to ash at this very moment. 
The next day rolls around and you return to your normal wardrobe. Though that morning you can’t help but take an extra long look at it as though the promised new addition will change it fundamentally. You chalk that thought up to you still being hungover. As the day continues, you try your best to be more attentive to your patients that day, because even if you failed to do so once, these people deserve a space free from your own personal issues.
You’re not surprised to be met with a package at your doorstep, though the colored box and large bow it arrives in are a bit much for what you assumed to be a single dress. What you’re met with inside is in fact a full outfit complete with even the undergarments you assume you’re expected to wear. The style itself so far from your typical business professional taste, it circles into the territory of a disguise. You even have to admit that there is an air of brilliance to it, since you doubt even you would be able to recognize yourself in this outfit.
Though in that regard, you already have a lot of trouble doing so lately.
Your tentative plan as of right now is to attend the concert and take part in this impromptu therapy session, and you will discuss with him what happened and explain why it is in fact critical to his mental well-being that this affair goes no further. You begrudgingly admit that come Monday, you will have to start from square one with him, but this is the only path forward you can see anymore.
That Saturday morning is devoted to running in and out of grocery stores, trying to gather as many tabloids featuring Elvis as possible, if you’re going to -temporarily- play the part he wants you to play, you will have to look like it. The rest of the day is devoted to primping and preening to get said right look. This brings back memories from undergrad, you and a friend preparing for a double date and Priscilla, along with various other celebrity faces, taped to the mirror for inspiration. Specifically you remember after being able to achieve her dramatic cat eye, your friend joking that if this college thing didn’t work out for you, you could put in an application for being Elvis’ next girl. You laughed at how preposterous that idea was at the time.
Your thoughts of the past are quickly interrupted by rapid knocking at your front door, and you quickly put the finishing touches on your makeup and throw on the ensemble. At the door you’re met with a familiar blonde whose apparent agitation swiftly surpasses whatever momentary discomfort he clearly feels at encountering you once again. Though in that moment you’re at least grateful Elvis had the good sense to not involve anyone else in this matter (that and the fact he didn’t send a limo).
Getting into the car you’re praying for a long and silent trip to the show. Jerry not reading the room says to you “Sorry for rushing you out the door back there, um…” he says. “It’s just been a bit of a crazy week, and the Boss is just wigging out about every single detail.”
“I understand” you attempt to placate, wishing for this exchange to end as soon as possible. “You have a job to do.”
“By the looks of it, so do you,” he says in an attempt to joke, though he quickly cuts himself off after seeing you tense up. He quickly apologizes and as you turn to look out the window, you hear what sounds like a flask being opened and Jerry downing a good portion of it. 
You resist the urge to demand a shot of whatever he’s drinking because, as poorly timed as that joke was, you are on the clock. And for as unprofessional as you have been lately, you don’t think you’ve quite gotten to the level of drinking right before a session. Because that’s what this is: an emergency/supplemental session that will precede a momentous occasion for your patient, and out of respect for his privacy, you are in disguise so that no one will know he’s even seeing a therapist. You’re hoping the more you tell yourself that the less ridiculous it will sound.
And due to the fact you're on the job you reason, it may be best to get an idea of his state before going in. “How has he been today? I’m sure the stress of the event is getting to him,” you ask.
“Yeah, uhh… he’s been in a bit of a mood all day,” he says carefully.
“Meaning?” 
“He’s basically been sayin’ that he wouldn’t perform until he saw you,” he says, looking anywhere but at you.
And there it is, you think. You give a simple nod in acknowledgement to Jerry, as he is all too happy to let this conversation peter out. You now recognize what Elvis is attempting and using Jerry as a proxy for. Despite all your training that tells you that you’re not responsible for any actions your patients take, you feel yourself start to shoulder the burden of getting him to perform tonight. Not only that but it seems you also bear the responsibility of putting him in the right headspace to perform well tonight. 
The rest of the ride to the show itself is quiet, which you’re grateful for, as it gives you time to steel yourself. Jerry as well seems to ease into a more relaxed demeanor the way one would when doing something that has become routine. It seems he’s no stranger to ferrying women to the King of Rock and Roll. 
Regardless of the slight pang of sorrow you feel momentarily at that observation, you try to see the upside to it. That this… thing with Elvis, your patient you have to remind yourself, will be short-lived. 
Arriving at the venue, you are immediately led backstage, and you’re not sure you can write off the feeling that everyone was watching you to paranoia on your part. Whatever it was, you surmised, there were more than a few people beyond Elvis expecting your arrival. As you were ushered to his dressing room, you felt equal parts dread and anticipation as to what would be on the other side.
What you weren’t expecting was your office. Though that may be a stretch, you can’t seem to find the logic in a dressing room having two chairs facing each other with a small table between them complete with a box of tissues right on top. The entire arrangement takes up an inordinate amount of space in an already cramped room, and you can’t help but conclude that it is intentional. 
You find the man of the hour in an open robe (sans shirt, though thankfully with pants on) sitting cross legged on the sofa in what you recognize to be a meditative position. You wouldn’t say he is quite disheveled, but every time you’ve seen him, he’s looked nothing less than immaculate. So finding him in this state with his hair undone and no ostentatious clothing is slightly jarring. Upon hearing the door open he cracks open one eye, and seeing you his face breaks into that handsome grin you’ve become far too familiar with. “Y/N, baby you’re here.” he says feigning surprise.
Not even acknowledging what he just said, you make your way into the room and Jerry, clearly just as disturbed by the setup, closes the door behind you. You glance at the clock on the wall showing that you had a little over 2 hours until the concert was set to start, just enough time for a full session and then some for him to get ready for the show. There is no way this was not meticulously planned, you conclude. 
You sit down placing your bag on the floor, as he takes his time to stretch out for a bit before he strolls his way to sit astride the chair across from you. There with an amused look on his face, he says nothing apparently wanting you to start. 
Considering there is no protocol as to how to conduct a session in this highly specific situation, and not wanting to immediately open with the elephant in the room, you decide to begin with just idle chit chat. “So… um, I didn't know you practiced meditation.”
“Yeah, it was somethin’ I picked up in San Diego,” he says off-handedly.
“I’m glad that it works for you,” you say as neutrally as possible. 
“Oh, it don’t,'' he clarifies. “It works in gettin’ everyone to leave me the fuck alone for awhile. But not in the other ways it’s supposed to.”
You nod your head in acknowledgement as he continues. “I got into yoga when I was down there too.”
“Do you find that works better for you?”
“Yeah,” he verifies. “When I feel somethin’ real bad, I gotta move. It don’t matter how.” This makes sense as he's a very physical person. You are aware of his love for Karate, and you briefly consider recommending he pick up Tai Chi as a happy medium between meditation and martial arts to help him in achieving mindfulness. Your thoughts are interrupted as he continues. “Too bad I ain’t been able to practice in a while.”
“And why is that?” you softly probe.
“I been needin” a partner,” he said with a sly grin, very much an offer.
There’s your opening, you think to yourself. This is the moment you can make a bid to reinforce some level of boundaries between the two of you. Where you can tell him that Monday was a mistake and should never happen again. That this infatuation with you is in fact detrimental to his mental well-being and will destroy your career. And most importantly that there is no future between the two of you.
“Elvis, please” you say, exhaling in frustration. “About what happened on Monday… I think it would be best if we-”
“Well,” he chimes in, “I think it best we save that talk for another time,” his severe delivery leaving no room for argument. Fear grips your throat as he continues in a notably softer tone, “Everything out there is ready for me to play, but up here,” he says, putting two fingers to his temple. “I don’t know ‘bout. Darlin’ I need your help right now, because I can’t do this without you”
Almost everything within you says to push forward no matter what, and tell him right here and now. The one thing that stops you is knowing for a fact he will be devastated with what you have to say. And then what? You leave and he’s unable to perform, leaving hundreds devastated. And come Monday will he even show up, or will he make the call and have you immediately reported for your part in this whole ordeal. Not to mention the long-term variables of if he will even want to continue therapy should you fail to get him ready tonight.
You sigh in defeat, as it appears you have no choice but to concede on this matter and focus on the immediate task at hand. “So you mentioned over the phone that your head’s been all over the place this week. Tell me, is this how you normally feel in the days leading up to a performance?” 
He looks pleased with your question and answers “Not in the last few years no. I mean, first time in Vegas it was a little like this, but after a while that all became routine.”
He leans his chair back and reaches behind him to the vanity table to reach for a glass of water. This angle puts his full chest on display and you can’t help but rake your eyes over the hair there and follow the trail of it down to his-
Focus, you think to yourself.
He offers you a glass, and in spite of how dry your mouth feels at the moment, you are trying to no longer accept anything from him at this point regardless of how small, so you refuse. “Tell ya’ what though,” he says, taking a sip. “I ain’t feel this nervous since my early days of performin’ and I would shake somethin’ fierce on stage,” he laughs a little at this statement. “That’s actually parta where all my dancin’ came from.” 
“I see.”
It’s unsettling how you could almost mistake the rest of your time together as a typical session with him. The only cosmetic differences being the harsh lighting from the vanity behind him and the uncomfortable feeling from the leather chair sticking to the back of your thighs. You’re also at a bit of a loss as to what to do with your hands without anything to take notes in, and the outfit has you feeling particularly vulnerable. As for his part you doubt you’ve ever seen him this relaxed in your presence before; leaning back with his legs spread and his robe exposing a mouth-watering amount of his torso. If you had to guess, it may have something to do with you being in his territory so to speak, as opposed to the typical setting of your office. Or maybe he’s just into your humiliation.
Aside from those factors, you would have even labeled today as a successful session… that is until the conversation takes a turn.
“I’ve done what feels like a thousand shows, most of them without all that crap Nic was pumping me with, but it feels like… I don’t know. Like that was some other guy that was performin’ and that he ain’t here tonight.”  
“This ‘other guy’ has he always been a part of the way you perform?” 
“I ain’t feel like myself on stage in a long time.” he said morosely.
“Elvis, I want you to try to recall a concert where you did feel like your true self. It doesn’t have to be the last time you felt this way, just the most memorable.” You replied leaning forward.
The half smirk that creeps on to his face makes you regret that question though. “Actually the show that comes to mind is the comeback special. You seen it before?” he asked. 
Yes. “...No, I-I believe I missed that one,” you manage to stutter out.
He grins knowingly, “Well they had me in front of an audience, maybe less than a hundred people and had me dressed all in leather with only a small square for a stage. In spite all that I felt free especially since Parker had almost nothin’ to do with it,” he said wistfully. “He chewed me out later for it, sayin’ shit like how it was no real audience and that they were told when to clap. But I knew…”
His hungry gaze meets yours and you feel a kin to prey about to be devoured. “You wanna know how I knew?” he said.
In spite of your gut instinct that you are delving into dangerous territory with this conversation, you’re far too curious at this point. So you try to swallow that uneasy feeling and reply in the affirmative.
“I came in my pants,” he says, taking a sip of his water, as neutral and matter of fact as if he were just telling you what he ate for dinner last night. 
“Wh-what?” you said, for the first time in your career, truly at a loss for words. 
Sex certainly wasn’t a taboo subject to discuss with your patients, and it wasn’t even the first time you discussed it with Elvis himself. But those conversations typically surrounded your patient's fears of intimacy with a new partner, and even though that wasn’t a concern for Elvis, he did make reference to it when discussing his need to please others. Most importantly though when discussing sex with a patient, you’ve never actually had the experience with them.
“It was the weirdest thing, Doc. Never happened before, hasn’t happened since,” he said, at complete ease with himself. “Sure a few close calls here and there, but it never got to that point. Hell, it mighta been the suit itself that did it for me. What ya’ think it means doll?��
And what can you say to that really? You try to even out your shallow breathing as your mind races through the possible implications of this reaction. You have certainly never met another performer before so you’re unsure whether this is even unusual to those in his line of work, but at the same time most people who do what they love for a living also aren’t sexually aroused by it, let alone reach climax through it alone. Previously you would have labeled yourself as firmly within that category, but that damp feel beneath your dress proves otherwise. 
Across from you, he waits patiently for your reply, but he is also openly delighted by your squirming state. 
“I-” you clear your throat. “Um… Sex is a perfectly natural thing.”
“Don’t I know it,” he smiles rakishly.
“Yes I…” you say, briefly losing your train of thought. “A way of interpreting the… arousal you feel on stage is that being there and performing in front of an audience comes just as naturally to you. As for what happened at your special, it may have been the moment you felt most acutely aware of your desire to be on stage.”
He nods his head and you continue. “You’ve mentioned previously how you were unsatisfied by your movie career by that point in time. So the return to the stage may have also acted as a cathartic release of all these pent up frustrations you were feeling up until that moment.” 
He raises an eyebrow at that in the way he typically does when he’s confused by your wording. “Basically you were feeling unhappy for a long period of time, so when you felt the joy of being back on stage, you’re…” you hesitate, suddenly embarrassed. “Body, as a result misinterpreted that joy as arousal. And adding to that, Parker’s disapproval as well as the feeling of being free that you described. It all culminated into that… reaction.”
He sits on your presumption for a moment, before chuckling a bit. “I see where you’re comin’ from on that doc. Though I gotta ask.”
You pause, apprehensive to what he may ask. “Ask what?”
“What are my chances for a repeat performance tonight?” he asks in a way you could almost mistake as innocent. As you feel close to hyperventilating, he continues. “I mean those things you brought up from the special are here tonight sooo…” he quirks an eyebrow, putting it on you to continue.
“...well… um” you draw out, truly dumbfounded and without any words to respond to that. You’re only saved from this conversation by hurried knocking at the door behind you. 
“Well, looks like we’re outta time here doc,” he said standing up, prompting you to stand up as well. With a hand on your lower back guiding you to the door, you don’t miss the fact he’s effectively dismissing you. “Baby, thank ya’ for comin’ down here tonight and settin’ me right. And I just want you knowin’ that this whole show is because of you. I don’t think I woulda made it this far without my girl” he said looking down at you and bringing you close while his other hand was on the doorknob. 
Your primary focus is trying your best to collect yourself before you need to go out there, but you’re so astonished by how he just so casually slipped in “my girl” into there. You know then you have to say something.
“But… I’m not your gir-” you quickly cut yourself off as you see his jaw clench, the previous look of satisfaction on a dime replaced with one of intense indignation at your denial. Before you can even begin to feel regret for your refusal, his expression just as rapidly shifts to one of downright mischief. 
Not wanting to find out what that look meant, you attempt to turn towards the door, only to be halted by an iron-like grip on your jaw. “Not my girl, huh?” he says, forcing you  to look at him, as he brings his face closer to yours. He then whispers, his lips just barely brushing yours, “tell that to them.” 
You can’t say you weren’t expecting him to bring his lips closer to yours, but you can say you weren’t expecting to be such a willing participant this time around. You can tell yourself all you want that you did it to save him from the embarrassment of being walked in on with a less than willing woman, but it seems, deep down, the both of you knew better. So you played your part as you grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck as your lips came together, and he was all too willing to believe in your role as his hand snaked down your back. You’ll never fully know (or at least admit) who closed the distance that night.  
All you really know is that being in here with him as he was now, was nothing short of intoxicating, in a way it had never felt in your office. You were not one to participate in drugs, but as his tongue slips past your lips to wrap around your own, you truly believe you could become addicted to this. His scent, his taste, his touch, all of it threatened to consume you whole and never let you go.
He was so all consuming in fact, you barely registered the sound of the door opening beside you, but you definitely don’t miss what feels like a dozen sets of eyes in full view of the both of you. You’re aware that you should in fact be more embarrassed of your compromising position with your arms thrown around his neck and his hand firmly on your ass. But with all the shame you’ve been feeling this past week, this hardly registers as the worst. Though you do feel a spark of it when he pulls away, and you let out a small whine from being denied his plush lips, until you feel them near the shell of your ear. 
His breathy demand for another session after the show is hard to deny in your state, and more so when you see the color of your lipstick haphazardly smeared across his downright sinful smirk. It goes without saying what that will entail, but you surprise even yourself by not immediately running for the hills. Instead you, with all the grace of a newborn fawn, stumble past a line of people rearing to get in and do their job. This venture, not at all aided by the playful swat he gives your behind. The “knowing” looks on some of their faces tells you what they are all assuming. Part of you wishes they were right, because doing that would somehow have been less shameful than what actually happened.
After that “session” you try to compose yourself as best as you can, and make your way to the ladies room. Alone in the restroom you see your face in the mirror and to your relief aside from the smudged lipstick, you look relatively fine. You reach for your bag to touch it up, only to realize that you forgot to grab it when he was leading you to the door. As you shudder at the thought of going back to retrieve it, you finally realize how much of a sopping mess you’ve made of your underwear. 
Insanity is truly your only defense for your next course of action, as you quickly remove your panties and dispose of them. 
After cleaning yourself up a bit, you end up wandering around backstage with a new resolve to not think about him. You still have roughly another hour to kill before the show is set to start, so unsure what to do with yourself until that time, you attempt to strike up conversations with your fellow VIPs. Your attempt at keeping your mind off of him proves fruitless though, as it becomes apparent that word travels fast behind the curtains, and their interest in you begins and ends with Elvis. You’re flooded with questions as to what he’s going to wear tonight, what he’s going to sing, if there will be an afterparty at Graceland and subsequent requests for you to try to get them invited. The only time any questions are directed at you, it’s simply polite inquiry as to where you met him and how long you’ve known him, and you try to be as vague and non-descript as possible.
One woman remarks how she thinks she saw you in a magazine last week along with “the big man himself.”
“Guilty,” you reply with a nervous laugh, because you truly are. How would you even begin to try to explain the truth?
You are able to meet most of the members of the so-called “Memphis Mafia,” and get the rundown as to who does what in the group after asking in an effort to get a basic conversation going. It doesn’t go unnoticed that none of them ask what you do for a living, only mildly interested in the fact you’re the new girl, as though being Elvis’ “girl” is supposed to occupy the totality of your existence. Usually you would take offense to this, but under these circumstances, you know the fewer in the know, the better. 
You don’t think you’ve ever truly considered the world he lives in until this moment. A world in which he’s surrounded on all sides by women that want him, and by men that admire and/or envy him. What does that do to a mind when everybody he meets falls into one of those two categories? How would one handle someone who doesn’t fit into either category? 
Eventually though Jerry finds you and brings you to your seat, front row and center, because of course Elvis would. You know from his stories about his Vegas residency that he would often kiss women in the front row, and you already have a feeling as to how this is going to play out. As Jerry leaves, you contemplate making a break for it at this point, but without your purse, that idea is quickly tossed out.  
You look around your area and breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that all are virtually unrecognizable. You know from the tabloids that this concert was deemed one for the ages already, being essentially his second comeback and with rumors flying around that there would be more than a few international attendants this fact is not all too surprising. There’s a small swelling of pride within you knowing that he is so loved worldwide that you quickly try to stamp down.
As the curtain goes up and the music starts to blare, you make the conscious decision that at this moment you are not his therapist, and that you are merely a fan. That you will be without worries at the state of your career right now, without fear that the APA is breathing down your neck, and definitely without any guilt to the sexual attraction you feel for him at this moment. Afterall you’re a fan, isn’t that just par for the course?
So as he steps on stage and immediately makes eye contact with you, you play your part. You get lost in it even, as you dance and sing and make a fool of yourself. He’s just… incredible doesn’t even begin to describe what he is as you’ve never seen someone move like he does, never felt music as you did in this moment. There’s not a single inch of the stage that’s not occupied by his presence as he’s able to keep the crowd fully enraptured for music they’ve undoubtedly heard hundreds of times before. His command over everything truly brings a new perspective to his King epithet. 
Despite your best efforts you cannot help but think of the comeback special incident and in the brief moments between songs you can’t help but observe and this makes you feel all the more  like a voyeur. In spite of the fact that there’s a couple hundred people watching the same show you are, they aren’t cursed with what you know. Unintentionally you read into every gyration, every hip thrust, even every time he throws his head back looking for any indication. You had thought about what he looks like in the throes of ecstasy an inordinate amount of times already this week, so you even compare every face he makes up there as well. 
Eventually, after two demands for an encore, Elvis merely has to put a finger to his lips to command the rowdy crowd down. “Now before I go,” he pauses with a slight quirk in his lips as he hears their protests, but continues with “I’m gonna leave y’all with somethin’ new.” This statement is met with uproarious applause as he gestures to the band behind him and begins. 
Want me to love you in moderation?
Do I look moderate to you?
Not even two lyrics in, you know you’re in trouble. Previously he had the decency to not single you out as he worked the entire crowd in front of him, but as he sings you know exactly who he’s directing this song to. 
And are you any better? Like the other women in the front row you move to the stage, as you're overpowered with the urgent need to be as close to him as possible. You’re overwhelmed with just about everything at this point: the audience, the song, him, and all your conflicting emotions this past week all reach a crescendo as he kneels on the stage before you. You’re crowded by his fans all reaching out to touch him as though he were some divine being. But you knew better.
Girl, you better learn
Can’t hold it in,
And girl you better learn
I just can’t win
Cause I don’t see the worth
I don’t see the worst
He is something monstrous, demonic almost. Elvis is a siren-like creature who is leading you to your doom. As he leans down closer to you, you stand on your toes, willing your knees to not give in at a time like this. The women around you flock even closer, all trying to get a piece of him, while he puts a hand underneath your chin, his eyes challenging you to stop him. He may very well be a siren but you’re his victim who is all too happy to drown at this point.
And I’m still tryna figure out if it
Always
Always 
Always 
Has to hurt
Unlike the last few times, you were very much prepared for this kiss. At least you were, until he proceeded to lean away from you and plant the kiss on the woman directly next to you. Time slows at this moment, truly forcing you to take in every single detail of what is happening not even a foot away from your face. He kisses her with all the filth and passion you were craving in that moment, and she just as enthusiastically kisses him back. 
His face is glistening with sweat from his performance that runs down onto her, but this woman doesn’t seem to mind. She will leave this concert and forever be able to have an interesting anecdote to tell at every party she will ever attend. This will be her one crazy story to tell about Elvis Presley, and the more logical side of you truly envies that about her. 
Finally, after what was perhaps only seconds but felt like an eternity, he breaks away from the kiss, though that doesn’t ease the heavy stone that has settled in your stomach. You want to cry, you want to scream, and judging from the state of the women around you, you wouldn’t be at all out of place. You’re upset that you’re in this position, you’re devastated over the fact that this is the man who holds your career in the palm of his hand, and most of all, you’re heartbroken that you even wanted him to kiss you at that moment.
Did he not see you? Did he mistake her for you? Shouldn’t you be glad about this new development? That hundreds of people weren’t witness to you flagrantly breaking every rule and ethical responsibility you made upon becoming a therapist? 
He answers all these questions with the single look he gives you as he stands before you, his lips now stained red from that random woman. 
You want looove
You feel a tug at your elbow as Jerry once more guides you backstage. Elvis for his part shamelessly watches you walk away all the while belting out those final lyrics of his song. As the lights from the stage blink out, and the crowd proceeds to explode in near-deafening screams and hollers, and you see him bow out as the curtain drops. You try to make yourself numb to it all as you make your way through the bustling corridors, but in reality you can’t ignore your heartbeat thundering through you, nor the uncomfortably slick feeling between your thighs. 
You have to get out of there and you know it. But you also want to stay and there’s no denying that. You have accepted that he has an unhealthy attachment towards you, and you naively thought you could work to dismantle it over the next few months to get him back on track. But seeing him kiss that other woman made you realize that this attachment threatens to be mutual, and that is truly where it will derail. 
Before you can figure out what you’re going to do, you’re back in front of his dressing room door and you walk in not even having bothered to knock. You find him along with several members of his crew already in there but upon seeing you he grins and a simple wave of his hand has them all scurrying out, leaving the two of you alone. He stays seated at the vanity, too comfortable apparently, with his feet propped up, the upper half of his suit peeled off of him, and a towel around his neck. He doesn’t even bother to fully turn around to look at you directly, he simply watches you through the mirror. 
“You enjoy the show Darlin’?” he says, lightly dabbing himself with the towel. “It sure as hell looked like you did out there.” 
Despite knowing he saw how you behaved, you still try to lie with an indifferent, “You did good up there.”
“Ahh, baby” he draws out in a light teasing tone. “Don’t be like that. Why don’t you come over here and tell daddy what’s wrong?” Your breath hitches at his casual use of that word and you find your feet making the decision for you. You make your way over to him and you finally find your purse on top of the vanity. You go to grab it but in one fluid motion he grabs your hand and you find yourself on his lap. As he leans forward for a kiss, you see the red that still paints his lips and without even thinking you use the towel to wipe some of it off. 
He makes a pleased hum at that, believing that this is what has you acting this way. 
Is it not though? You think sarcastically. After rubbing off most of the color you drop the towel letting it fall back into place on his chest. He takes your hand into his, and your heart does an embarrassing little skip as he gives it a sweet kiss.
“Baby, I was raised to be a gentleman,” he said, adopting a chivalrous affect. “If my bestest girl don’t like me kissin’ others, all she’s gotta do is say so. Then I ain’t never gonna do it again.” His eyes pleading as he waits for your answer.
So that’s what his plan was, you think bitterly. You’re resentful over the fact that it worked at all. But he doesn’t need to know that.
You rip your hand away from him as you reply with as much resolve as you can gather, “You can do whatever you want Elvis,” before mulishly looking away. He evidently didn’t like that answer, as he stood up to prop you onto the vanity and placed himself between your legs. You try to escape his grasp only for him to place his hands at the top of your thighs, effectively pinning you in place.
“I can do whatever I want?” he says in a low, challenging voice, looking you directly in your eyes. It is only then do you regret your wording. Were you not so petrified, you would have admired his ability to quickly turn your own dismissive words into seemingly an invitation. There is no denying the trembling force in your body at this point and with the way he’s holding it is only inevitable that he will find your secret. And as though reading your mind, you feel his thumb brushing your inner thigh, and he finally notices the slick feeling in between. If you're going to be honest with yourself, you think you’re even more wet than when you walked in.
He makes an approving hum as he flips your skirt up, and you get the momentary pleasure of seeing his eyes widen at your lack of underwear. That is until he quickly bunches up the material past your hips and you feel mortified at being naked from the waist down in a room you don’t remember locking. You’re even more mortified as he kneels down and begins to pepper your inner thighs with light kisses. You instinctively try to close your legs, but his grip makes it impossible, and he notices your effort.
“Ahh, sweetness none of that,” he drawls out, emphasizing his point with a small nibble at the sensitive flesh that has you cursing. You feel his hot breath waft over you and as you’re trying to wrap your head around what’s happening, he teasingly licks a stripe up your slit, giving you a taste of what he has to offer. You gasp for air as though you’re about to drown. 
“I can do what I want, can I?” he asks knowing you’re far too preoccupied to answer. “Well I want this,” he purrs, emphasizing his point with a soft kiss to your clit, which you meet with a strangled moan. He chuckles at your reaction before resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. “But I gotta know what my girl wants,” he trails off.
Your muddled mind cannot even begin to process the question itself before he follows up with. “What’d ya’ say mama? Do you wanna be my girl?” he says looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes of his, and you know there is not even a choice anymore. You’re so far gone at this point, you hardly hesitate in saying yes. “No, no mama. I wanna hear you say it.”
You can already feel a few shameful tears trailing down as you cover your face with your hands, as though that will absolve you of your next words. “Yes… I want to be your girl,” you cry out desperately, and he dives straight in. 
All of your composure is tossed out the window the moment you feel his mouth on your needy cunt, you moan and shout freely, no thoughts given to the people undoubtedly outside of the door. He’s going at an unhurried languid pace, exploring your nether regions, seemingly trying to learn what gets the biggest reaction out of you. He’s apparently indifferent to how desperately you need to cum. You grab at his hair and try to bring him closer, desperate for some control of this situation but the noticeable tightening of his grip on your legs make it clear that he’s going to take all the time he wants.
You’re there for what feels like hours before you’re at the point of begging him to let you cum. The King finally takes mercy on you as he stuffs his fingers into you while simultaneously nursing at your clit as you are finally allowed your release.
You’re a mess after that devastating orgasm, and as he brings himself back up to you, you don’t put up a fight to this kiss. You taste yourself on his lips, and the smallest, pettiest part of you feels victorious over that woman whose name you will never get to learn. Before you can dwell on that part of yourself, he spins you around so you’re facing away from him. Despite all of that you still feel yourself wanting for more, and as you look over your shoulder at him, you know he is very aware of that.
“Were you watching mama?” he said, pressing kisses to your neck as he undoes his belt. “Were you sittin’ there, wonderin’ if I did it again, and that’s how you got this wet?” You let out a small keen as you feel his cock just barely brushing at your entrance, and he presses a hand on your back, prompting you to bend over the vanity fully. You give a slight shriek as you feel a sharp swat on your ass. “Answer me,” he growls out, sending another shiver down your spine. 
“Yes,” you say, pushing yourself backwards to him. 
Another swat on the other side, “Yes what?” he rasps.
“Yes daddy,” you nearly cry out and you bury your head into your arms in shame as he drives into you. Once slotted fully inside, he pauses giving you time to adjust to him. The stretch of him burns only slightly this time around, though mostly you feel satisfaction as he feels achingly familiar. 
“You don’t gotta worry mama,” he pants next to your ear. “I saved it all for you,” he says as he slowly begins to push his hips back and forth into you. You find yourself just as eager as you push backwards to keep him within. You close your eyes to the sensations, as this feels like the closest you’ve come to a reprieve in this whirlwind of a week he’s caused. You want to lose yourself here, and for once want to believe as he does that this is any way healthy or sustainable for the both of you. This delusion has the ability to ruin you, but for the moment you truly just want to indulge yourself in it.
Reality will always win out though. At some point he thrusts so hard, your feet no longer meet the ground, and you have to brace yourself on the mirror. Here in this position you’re truly forced to look at yourself for seemingly the first time as you truly are. You see your eyes bloodshot and pupils blown, your mascara trailing down your face, and, mortifyingly, you're drooling from the pleasure at not only what he’s doing to you but the sight you're met with in the mirror. You also see him behind you, looking more animal than man with the way he forces your hips to meet his pace and the snarl that mars his face. It’s all too much for you to handle. The only way to describe how hard you came in that moment would be violently, as you convulse and sob terribly at all the shame and pleasure you’re experiencing in that moment. 
You feel him pull out, and moments later you hear a shuddering howl as he paints your lower back with his cum, effectively marking you as his. You sob even harder with the realization you had not even been thinking about protection in the last week, and now you fear that there will be another cord that will forever tie you to him. 
If he sees your tears he ignores them and places a kiss on your cheek before sitting you down in front of the mirror. He lets you know that he has a press conference soon, but that he will meet you back home for the afterparty. He quickly dresses himself while you use a tissue to fix your makeup and try to make the wrinkles in your dress less noticeable. Once outside the door he hands you off to one of his men with orders to take you back to Graceland.
It is only as you’re pulling up to Graceland do you realize you gave no resistance whatsoever to his whims and didn’t even try to insist you go back to your own apartment. You pay no thought to that as you see there are already many of his people there to celebrate his astonishing performance, and the last thing you need is to draw more attention to yourself by being the one woman having a breakdown at the party. 
So you slip back into your role as his girl, though can you even say that it is simply a role anymore when you fully agreed to it. 
Eventually he arrives home and is met with all the praise and glory he has earned tonight. Yet he barely looks at anyone before he seemingly sweeps the room to zero in on you. He grins and approaches you to sweep you into a hungry kiss which is met with various wolf whistles and cheers from those around you. You are still playing your part for the audience you tell yourself. 
The rest of the night is spent on his arm essentially advertising to all attendants that you're his. Eventually he announces to no one in particular that he is starting to feel tired, and it feels like only moments later when a mass exodus occurs, no one daring to stay past their welcome. The grip he has on your waist though tells you that he has no plans of letting you go.
That night and the following day in Graceland you spend in a daze of fucking and resting and even more fucking, interspersed with conversation between the both of you. Surprisingly you find yourself opening up to him as well, and with the conversations being not so focused on him, it’s easy to pretend that this is even remotely natural. 
You do make a few attempts to leave that day, each time met with some pushback on his part to get you to stay. Each attempt is met with some excuse on his part be it being too early, his fans outside the gates, his exhausted state etc., and immediately following your concession, you are bombarded with physical affection and compliments as to how understanding and what a good you are for him. You allow yourself to indulge in this fantasy for a little while longer, and stay another night with him.
The next morning, reality sets back in, and there is no denying your active part in this anymore. He kisses you good morning and he reminds you that you have work today. You’re amazed that he hasn’t already made you cancel all of your appointments today, until you remember who you have your final session with later. You shower and use his toothbrush, no longer hesitating to do something you would previously labeled as far too intimate to do with anyone, let alone a patient.
You are however disturbed but not surprised when you exit the restroom and find a full outfit ready for you. This one is more in line with your regular work attire but the blouse does have a rather loud pattern, a far cry from your admittedly limited, colorwise, wardrobe. Without the tags, you briefly wonder if this is something left behind by the previous stand-ins or if he bought it for one of them to better pretend they were you. You push that thought aside as you finish getting ready for the day. Being early on a Monday morning you are able to be driven to your office without the worry of any ogling eyes. He even gives you a parting kiss at the door and it feels far more domestic than it has any right to be.
You would deem that day almost normal. You are of course exhausted from the strange weekend you had, but somehow you also feel unfettered when compared to the stressful week you had previously. You receive some compliments on your blouse, and you are able to, through tightlips, confirm yes when someone asks if you got it from someone special. 
Other than that you are able to get back to your standard attentive self for your patients. Having worked with Elvis for nearing a year at this point, has had the unexpected benefit of making your other patients seem easier in comparison. You laugh at their funny stories, you dole out advice and insights when asked, and you comfort them when needed. These moments in between your nearly all encompassing thoughts around Elvis, you find, are a welcome respite from the looming black cloud that is your future as a therapist. 
Eventually though 4:30 PM arrives and you hear a knock at the door.
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scorchieart · 7 months
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Understaffed
Genre: Comedy
Wordcount: 1326
Prompt: In A Flash CCC hosted by @flash-exchange - October 2023: Magic Apprenticeship
A/N: My first entry for the In A Flash CCC! This one was inspired by the folks over on Discord, you guys rock for helping me finish a fic after so long! I will try my best to write some more as the challenge continues. For this fic, it's been split up as 2 separate parts, the first part being mainly from Jin's perspective and the second continuing from Yves and Nokto's. Many thanks to @lorei-writes for the feedback and suggestions. Enjoy!
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Jin Grandet was not a warlock. At least, not officially.
It wasn’t because he had a late start. Most children couldn’t even read spells from the rudimentary tomes at age six, let alone pronounce them. And it wasn’t as if he was without talent. It was common knowledge throughout the kingdoms that the sorcerer’s gene manifested strongest within royal bloodlines. No, the true reason Jin failed his Warlock Mastery Examination was far less magical than he’d like to admit. 
But that’s a story for another time. And even if the minimum age to apply was fifteen, it didn’t mean he was barred from trying again another year. Heck, most applicants didn’t even make an attempt until they were double that! But of course, Chevalier came of age the next year, and while the exam was merely a formality for the prodigy, barely anyone bothered to register for that round. Fueled by fiery rivalry, Clavis was hot on Chevalier’s heels the year after that, and Jin was too preoccupied with helping him train to even consider enrolling himself. And just a few weeks prior, Leon passed his exam with flying colors. A feat Jin attributes to his apt sideline encouragement and diligent inspections of Leon’s daily meat intake. 
So what if he didn’t pass? Jin could still perform magic as well as any warlock. He just didn’t have a staff to show for it. Instead, he could boast that the never-before-seen-three-year-streak of fifteen-year old graduates were his students.
“For the last time, we are not your students,” Yves declared.
“And why wouldn’t you want to be?” Jin asked. He waved a hand and the curtain of low-hanging branches before him parted, revealing a narrow dirt path ahead. “I have a one-hundred percent success rate. And you’re my next conquest, Yves.”
“Yeah, Evie. Why don’t you take him up on his offer?” Nokto said, following Licht as they climbed down after Jin. “Then you can tell us if he’s legit or not.”
“Oh, he’s the real deal,” Leon said. He took a steady stance beside a cherry oak and swung his newly acquired staff overhead, making all the barren trees in the vicinity shake and shoot their branches upward like spikes. Nokto watched in awe as Leon calmed the trees down and flashed him a toothy grin. “Can’t recommend the big guy enough.”
“No, no, no, my brothers. You mustn’t let the opinions of others sway your decision making!” Clavis said, pushing past Leon. “Ask yourselves this: do I want to be taught by a syrupy dropout, or by the youngest, most renowned warlock of our age?” He struck the ground with his own staff and the dirt rumbled. Moments later, roots and tubers erupted from the earth like the undead, making Yves screech and trip on an upright rose stem. Clavis laughed maniacally as the plants continued to grow, until Leon whacked him on the head and the vegetary scene immediately reverted underground as if it never happened. 
“I’m younger than you, remember?” Leon countered.
“And I was younger than you both when I passed,” Chevalier added, his pace leisurely as he joined them.
“Yes, yes, you don’t have to remind us again how your test happened three days after your birthday,” Clavis said, rubbing his bruised forehead. “It is insufferably pedantic of you.
“Shall I remind everyone instead of how you only passed because the examiner happened to sneeze when you flubbed the fire retardancy enchantment on your trousers?”
“Like I said, little ones. Follow what Jin says, and you’ll do just fine,” Clavis said.
“If you’re done sharing my many virtues, hurry on over!” Jin called. The group exchanged speculative glances before filing through the unanimated greenery towards his excited voice.
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Flummoxed by their seniors’ effortless display of magical prowess, Yves and Nokto insisted they take the lead, bewitching wayward wood knots and saplings from the path. Once or twice they glanced back, hopeful to receive praise for their successful spells, only to find the trio engrossed in their own conversation. 
“Maybe he wants to take us all on at once? Six against one?” Leon suggested.
“Please,” Clavis yawned, stretching his arms above his head and waving his staff teasingly. “He could squash the kiddos, no problem. But he won’t get much farther than that unarmed.”
“He brought his sword. Or is your staff so far up your rear that you did not notice?” Chevalier said, swatting Clavis’s staff away from his face. 
Yves and Nokto whirled their heads towards the track ahead, struggling to keep their attention back on moving the plants. Is that what this was all about? Despite Jin’s domineering stature, they had never once seen their brother in a fight. But Jin also was the most knowledgeable about the contents of the exam, even if he did fail his. Was this the type of error-correcting that guaranteed Chevalier, Clavis, and Leon’s successes?
The path eventually fed into a wide clearing as large as one of the training arenas at the palace. Even in peak autumn, thick shrubs still flanked all sides like a fence except for one; a cavernous cliff plummeted behind where Jin stood, his arms folded and mouth stretched in an expectant grin.
“Are we really gonna fight?” Nokto said nervously, reaching for his sword.
“Alright! Loser gets thrown off the cliff!” Clavis whooped. “Chevalier, fight me!”
“Slow down, we’re learning defensive tactics today,” Jin said. “Magic has limitless potential to attack, right? So it stands to reason that the same should be true in defense. Far too often does a warlock fall into the assumption that one trumps the other in combat.”
“Spoken nearly verbatim from Elemental Charms and Combat,” Chevalier said unamused.
“That means he knows his stuff,” said Leon. “But then why’d ya bring us here too, Jin?”
“No, Chevalier’s right. There’s only so much you can learn from theory alone. We need experience to connect the dots. And I sure as sugar wouldn’t hurt a hair on the little guys’ heads, so that’s where you lot come in.” Jin crouched beside Yves and Nokto and patted their shoulders. “Yves, you’ll spar with Chevalier. And Nokto, you get Clavis.”
Yves froze on the spot.  
“Oh, goodie…” Nokto mumbled. 
“Just remember the basics, and you’ll be fine,” Jin said, then he turned to the warlocks. “And don’t you go blasting infernos at them. We’re out here to prevent unnecessary bystander injuries. But remember, this is still a highly flammable area.” He glared at Clavis, who seemed to get a chill and wrapped his cloak firmly around himself.
“Wait. Where’s my partner?” Leon asked. A quick lookover of the clearing proved Licht was nowhere to be seen. 
“Maybe Leon’s branches pulled him up to the sky?” Nokto suggested.
“Or Clavis’s roots dragged him down below!” Yves gasped.
“Both,” Chevalier said, pointing over the cliff. Halfway down, Licht hung suspended and looking below, his shirt caught on a thorny branch tangled with crisscrossing roots. 
“Licht!” Yves and Nokto cried.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Clavis called down to him.
“Something tells me the branch will snap if he so much as breathes wrong,” Leon said. Licht answered with a shaky thumbs up.
“Everyone, change of plans!” Jin bellowed. “Today we’re doing rescue training. And not a word of this gets to Sariel, got it? Okay, let’s go!” He drew his sword and leaped over the edge, jamming it into the cliffside as he descended.
Shocked, and slightly relieved, Yves and Nokto followed Jin’s lead, the scraping sounds of their blades cutting rock disappearing with them.
“Moron,” Chevalier huffed. The air around him began to crackle as he inhaled deeply and swung his staff in a circular motion. “He didn’t even evaluate the situation for a full minute. And they still wonder why he didn’t pass—”
“You heard the boss!” Clavis and Leon yelled. Together they seized each of Chevalier’s arms and hurled themselves over the cliff, leaving their staves behind.
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Listen, it is liberating to write Chevalier, Clavis, and Leon as comic relief side characters. Trust me.
Tagging: @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx @otomefoxystar @my-day6
If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.
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orionsangel86 · 11 months
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Subtext Glorious Subtext! A Dreamling on Netflix analysis in The Sandman - Part 5
1789
How romantic it is to be defended by ones love!
My favourite century! This is where the show starts deviating more heavily from the comic and upping the heat on the subtext (probably why it remains a popular century in fandom especially for gifsets).
Firstly, the show makes some good choices by changing certain elements in order to increase character likeability, which I think were necessary tbh. In the show, Hob mentions getting into a “new trade” regarding shipping and slavery. He describes the process to Dream and is immediately scorned for it via the “poor thing” line. In the show, it is implied that Hob’s involvement in the Slave Trade is something new for him. Dream is immediately dismissive and judgemental of this (as we would expect any decent person to be). Hob initially defends himself “It’s just how its done.”  but agrees to consider Dream’s advice.
This is not how either the comic or the Audible audiobook go and honestly, I was surprised.
In both comic and audiobook, Hob brags about the slave trade. He talks gleefully about actually having a hand in starting it 200 years back. He’s proud of this. He’s completely repugnant in both comic and audiobook and it makes you want to punch him hard. Dream only makes the following comment: “You take pride in treating your fellow humans as less than animals?” but he is otherwise not dismissive or disgusted by these things. He is not judgemental, just curious and surprised. When Hob dismisses this question as it being “business”, Dream drops the topic. It isn’t until the very end of the scene after Johanna’s interuption that Dream tells Hob its “a poor thing...” and that is where both comic and audiobook leave it without giving Hob’s reaction to this line.
You can see why the show made the wise decision to change these things. I think it is another example of where the show is taking the story and characters in a softer, kinder, and more likeable direction. We have to remember that the show versions of Dream and Hob are NOT their comic counterparts. Both comic characters are unlikeable at times and Hob in particular is just generally a pretty shitty person. It is difficult to marry the two versions of Hob sometimes because Ferdie gives SUCH a likeable, warm, engaging performance. Yes, Show!Hob is still a slaver for a short while, and yes, that is absolutely not forgiveable and fandom would be wise to ensure that this is never downplayed or ignored, but I think it is worth mentioning that the show has made the decision to lessen his involvement in the slave trade compared to his comic counterpart. But we shall see where they decide to go with this particularly nasty part of show!Hob's history in future episodes.
I think the show in many ways is taking a more classical view of the Sandman characters - here are your good guys and here are your bad guys, here are the people we want you to love and root for, and here are the ones you should love to hate. The comic tends to keep the majority of characters in the middle ground of morally grey. They have a rather cynical viewpoint imo that works for a gritty graphic novel about a depressed eldritch entity. But that viewpoint wouldn't work so well in a high budget fantasy drama series with a desire to draw in as big an audience as possible.
Anyway, back to 1789. Aside from Tom and Ferdie acting like they want to climb each other all the way through this scene (the sexual tension is through the roof throughout), all of fandoms favourite elements here are new.
Whilst Hob does ask for Dream’s name again here in the comics, there is no response or reaction from Dream given before Lady Johanna interrupts them. In the show, it is clear that Dream is about to give an answer - Hob almost gets his name. This is - tropey. The interruption may be comic canon but the almost response to the answer you’ve been craving for 400 years isn’t. A brilliant little addition. The audience is on the edge of their seats wishing Dream would just tell Hob who he is dammit! It adds to the expectation that eventually Hob will get his name. Dream's identity reveal at this point is basically a Chekov's gun. Hob will get it, even if we don't see it happen.
Then we get the fight. There is no rambling from Hob about some Jack Constantine he knew, instead he is calmly making flirtatious jokes at Dream right in front of Lady Johanna’s salad. “I look terrible, you look worse.” The terrible drawing from 1689 is new for the show, as in the comic it is simply a description of the 1689 meeting that Johanna found. Making it a portrait instead gives the characters something to react to, and I do love how bad the caricatures are in the drawing. Though sorry Hob, but anyone can see that Dream absolutely does not look worse than you, and your teasing flirtations are kinda obvious.
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The two characters share catty side eye glances in silent communication as Lady Johanna talks which indicates how close and comfortable with each other they have become by this century.
When Hob jumps up to attack the thugs, he goes for the one with the knife at Dream’s throat first. Hob gets to be an action movie star for a short moment whilst Dream looks up at him in subtle delight. It’s glorious.
AND THEN Dream ONLY makes a move once he sees Lady Johanna has her blade at Hob’s throat.
In the comic, the minute the thugs get their blades out and Lady Johanna threatens them, Dream is like nope! Magic sand! Poof!
But the show, oh the glorious, brilliant, creators on the show, decided this was going to be a “partners defending each others lives” scene. They want to protect and defend each other! They care about each other.
And then we get this:
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GIF by ghorestes
Dream. Darling. Sweetheart. He may not have needed to, but you enjoyed it nevertheless.
“Clearly. Still, I didn’t want to be drinking here alone in 100 years time.”
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GIF by mrskillingjoke
(Thank you to all gifmakers by the way I am kissing you on the mouth for the gifts you give us)
LOOK AT HIM. We all obsess over these little moments I know, but this is CLEAR flirtation.
If there is a better example of *eye fucking* anywhere outside of a season 4 Destiel scene I have yet to come across it.
It doesn’t even stop there. Because right after the best example of *eye fucking* I have seen since season 4 Destiel is an honest to god proposition.
Hob: "So do you want to find another pub tonight?"
Dream: "She may have told others about our meeting. It wont be safe for you."
Hob: "Im perfectly safe. I can't die remember?"
Dream: "Aye, but you can be hurt or captured. We must be careful"
Hob: “Always.”
NONE OF THIS IS IN THE COMIC.
So what new info has the show given us with this scene?
On a surface level, Hob wants more time with Dream. He wants to find another pub to continue their date.
On a subtextual level, Hob is full of adrenaline from the fight and the mystery man he’s been obsessing over for 400 years is looking at him like he wants to jump his bones. He wants to find another place so they can continue their date, and possibly fuck until the adrenaline has worn off.
On a surface level, Dream cares about Hob’s safety. He doesn’t want them being seen together together outside of the tavern to draw attention to anymore of Lady Johanna’s goons.
On a subtextual level. This is 1789 Hob and they hang men for doing what you very clearly want to do, and it’s not safe with the additional attention Lady Johanna and her goons have put onto you. If I go with you now, they could follow and find us in more compromising positions. Don’t risk it.
In the comic at this point, I would argue that Hob is still nothing more than a curiosity to Dream. He does not show him any real affection or care, and certainly doesn’t comment on his safety at any point. Whilst comic!Hob at this point is clearly itching for more info on Dream, he doesn’t ever push for it, and he is never as focused on Dream as he is talking about other people he’s met and interacted with. They are barely friends.
But by 1789 in the show, we have genuine care for each other, camaraderie, a growing friendship, and arguably sexual attraction.
The other point to note is something I only realised after answering this ask the other day. Comic!Dream has never had anyone else truly care about him enough to rescue him or come to his defence since Alianora (and he basically married her). When Hob defends Dream in the show, its so impactful to Dream because this is a version of Hob who truly cares about him enough to endanger himself (a trait comic!Hob never shows). No wonder Dream looked so pleased and acted so coy about it. He really was ready to pounce!
Basically 1789 is the turning point century. The point at which the show starts to lean heavily into homoerotic tropes and increases the tension. In this century we get:
An almost name reveal followed by an unwanted interuption
Amused side eye glances at each other sharing unspoken communication
Flirtatious jabbing over a bad drawing
Defending each other from harm
Putting themselves at risk in defence of the other
A thinly veiled proposition
Genuine concern and care from a character that never appeared to care previously
Ridiculously over the top eye fucking
All of which adds up to further the audiences investment in the continued development of this relationship whether romantically or platonically and which therefore makes the break up in 1889 even more impactful.
The analysis continues for 1889 in part 6!
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theawkwardanglophile · 3 months
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What are your top 5 episodes??
I should have seen this coming! 😂 Thanks for the ask, Sarah, and I’m sorry I didn’t get this out sooner. My brain was mush the past couple of days and I wanted to give this my full attention when I made my decisions. And, man, I DELIBERATED on this! My criteria were episodes that were Chenford-heavy, so some eps that have like one big amazing Chenford scene (4x18 for example) were left out. And I'm sure this might change at some point, but I feel pretty good about where everything landed for now. So here we go….
5x12 Death Notice This ep just has EVERYTHING: the end of their era of riding together, being flirty at work, ridiculous married vibes (the lint picking??), LUCY LESSON (how did it take them 5 years to come up with the greatest term to counter Tim Tests? Bring back Lucy Lessons in S6!), the lengths they both will go to for each other, Tim's talk with Grey, and of course, NAKED TIME. And that doesn't even cover all of it. I just love it to pieces.
5x10 The List The absolute high this episode gave me, after a full month of bliss already with them being canon. The most delicious rom-commy cold open that I could have hoped for, trying on their entire closets and then being so painfully, adorably awkward on their date. Then Tim and Lucy being ANYTHING but subtle at work, which is just so hilarious considering they can be so stealthy when needed on the job, but trying to hide their relationship? Umm, y'all weren't fooling anyone. Maybe Nolan. And the precious first/second date at the end. The GRANDKIDS, the SMILES, the KISS. Perfection!
4x09 Breakdown An Eric Winter master performance. I just wanted to hug Tim throughout the ep. Luckily, Lucy was there for that job, and what a hug it was! Tim lets go completely and sinks into her, all his walls down. He felt so safe with her. I love how her opinion of him means everything, and she was quick to offer reassurance (I truly believe her words in 4x08 were just a slip of the tongue). But I also love how Lucy is just doing life with Tim, the things that matter. Where was Ashley, hmmm? It's Lucy that's there helping with such a significant job of remodeling Tim's childhood house, and doing some wonderful future sister-in-law bonding with Genny. Also, Tim and Lucy power-walking through the station in plain clothes? A VIBE.
4x12 The Knock The most insane double date ever? My gosh, this ep has so much fun stuff in it, so many little details, that even though Lucy started dating Chris, and Ashley decided to turn a blind eye and continue dating Tim, after watching this I had never been more convinced that Chenford was endgame. Every part of the double date is gold, and Tim and Lucy's scenes on the job beautifully showcase how seamlessly they work together (and their total lack of personal space). LOVE IT.
2x13 Follow-Up Day This ep was an early fave, and still holds a special place. TIM GAVE UP A PROMOTION FOR LUCY. Way before Court Liaison there was THIS. Lucy is his biggest cheerleader this whole ep (and, you know, always), and Grey's knowing looks during the test score scene is *chef's kiss*. And the scene outside the bakery is everything. Their faces say so much! They were being such flirts in S2, to the point that I originally wondered if they might actually start something later that season. THAT'S how powerful that scene was.
Honorable mentions:
2x11 Day of Death I know, I know, and part of me feels like it should be in the top five. I mean, it is without a doubt one of the best episodes, if not the best, they ever made. It's so powerful, and was the turning point in my shipping, because I'd only been mildly intrigued by Chenford in a few S2 eps, but DOD cemented me as a full-fledged shipper (little did I know it would become my best shipping experience of all time). But it can be a hard one to watch, and I just love those others a tiny bit more.
5x08 The Collar There are so many moments to love in this ep. It truly changed everything with Tim and Lucy, and the more I've seen their talk outside at the end, the more it grows on me. It really is so them. Even though they become CANON in this one, I think because there is so much clueless Chris, and the tough scene with the first bomb victim, it just didn't quite make it to the top 5.
3x09 Amber Anyone who was around when this aired knows we all lost our minds pretty good with this ep. It grew on me more and more over time, and I love it so much. The whole confession scene still might be the longest uncut Chenford scene...ever? Just them talking in the shop. It's insanely wonderful! And this ep gave us Parking Garage Face and the beginning of a brand new chapter with Tim and Lucy.
5x01 Double Down Editing to add this one, because I started questioning everything, and it did NOT feel right to leave this one out. What a fantastic collection of moments. The airplane kiss is top tier, HANDS, the gorgeous shots of them in the car in Vegas, it doesn't feel like pretend, etc. And even though I'm so glad they didn't cheat, I'll never be over the fact SHE OPENED THE DOOR FOR HIM AND HE WENT IN.
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