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shrenvents · 7 months

Text

My Bounty.

Warnings: Smut. Vaginal, unprotected sex, force play. Minors dni

Pairing: Clone Wars (single) Anakin Skywalker x Bounty Hunter reader

Summary: Anakin Skywalker goes above and beyond to make your life difficult, taking whatever he wants without explanation. So when reader confronts him, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Word count: 1.7k

…

The meddling nature of the Jedi was nothing compared to the nature of Anakin Skywalker. His darkness seeps its way into everything. His dark robe, gloves, boots, curls, eyes. He was the darkness enveloping me in a dizzying spiral of hate and desire. And he did it again. He stole my bounty just so he could give me that dark look.

His gaze observes the way my fists clench and how I chew my bottom lip. A wicked smirk dances on his face as clones praise and pat him on the back. He knew exactly what he was doing, watching me with an intensity, that had me shaking.

Finally, Anakin’s eyes move away from my figure, beckoned by his Master. He stalks towards Obi-Wan Kenobi and his mocking facade breaks instantly. I nearly scream at the sight. What was he hoping to achieve? Stealing my potential profits is certainly an interesting pastime, not one you would expect from “the chosen one.”

I huff out my frustration, deflating my tense shoulders. With his back now turned, I relax. Pivoting on my heel, I hurry away from the scene. On to the next hunt, before Skywalker gets the chance to take it from me.

Frankly, I have no clue how it started, his fixation with making me miserable. I almost feel paranoid, as if I’m making up the whole debacle. But from the way he looks at me, unspeaking, I know this truly is my reality. Anakin Skywalker hates me.

...

Now glaring at my reflection within the confines of my room, my restraint runs thin. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna confront him because that sort of thing always goes well.

I head out towards the Jedi temple where Skywalker is most likely training his Padawan. While marching over, I contemplate the arguments I will bring up when face-to-face with him. How I will look into those comet-like eyes and not get distracted by his plump lips.

Moral of the story, I’m going to put an end to this one-sided game we play.

Once my vision connects with his broad back, his name escapes me without hesitation, “Anakin.” Saying it takes me by surprise, seeing as though I’ve never said it before. But clearly, it shocks him more, as when he turns around, his eyes are vaguely wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Y/n,” he says back flatly, face becoming neutral. Now I’m really taken aback by the way my name rolls off his tongue. Quickly, I collect myself and remember my well-thought-out points.

“What are you doing?” And out the window they go.

Anakin quirks his head quizzically. His silent reply to my rather stupid question ticks me off further. I’m practically vibrating with rage. “That was my mark you stole today Skywalker, you realize that?”

As if he’s finally understood my inarticulate speech, his lips part dumbly in “awe.” There he goes pushing my buttons, silently watching me unravel. “You think I wouldn’t notice?“ My face flushes red as I elaborate. “All the crooks you’ve miraculously caught are always the bounty that I’m after.”

There's a beat of silence where he inspects the way my chest heaves in exasperation. Then he speaks. “About time you did.” He states matter-of-factly. My jaw drops. “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve been waiting for you to notice,” he remarks with a bored look.

“Notice what?” I spit out, scowling at him.

“Me,” he finishes plainly. Silence engulfs us again and I take note of how close we’ve become. “Why would you want that?” I question, utterly perplexed.

“What do you mean?” Anakin’s brows furrow.

“I mean you’ve never spoken to me before.”

“Neither have you.” He counters. My fists tremble.

“Why then? Why do you need me to notice you?” I demand.

“What other reason can there be?” He grumbles while giving me a once-over, and then something clicks. My face falls.

“Those looks you give me-”

“Say just how much I want you, more than words ever could.” He ends my sentence, his face remaining stoic. My heart hammers wildly. I suspect he’s now waiting for me to make a move, to say anything, maybe even reject him. Instead, I hastily circle my head around, surveilling for bystanders before frantically grasping at his robe and pushing him into a nearby room. His facade flatters once again and I see puzzlement consume his face.

After I awkwardly turn the door knob and take us into the empty room, I shove him away. Anakin staggers back, looking completely disoriented, almost regretful. “Y/n?” He trails off. My anger is radiating off my body, and I know he can feel it.

“You should’ve said something,” I assert, seething.

“I’m-“ Anakin is abruptly cut off by my lips smashing against his. With my arms reaching around his neck, I can feel his body freeze. After a short moment, I start to peel away, dejected by his stillness. But Anakin instantly chases after me, no longer shying away.

He gropes my waist, and one arm pulls around it, while the other slides up my spine to rest between my shoulder blades. A moan evades my throat and is met with a deep groan.

His palms carve out my figure and fist at my clothes. Whines rush out my mouth as his tongue mingles with mine. He vigorously makes work of me, and I have to pull away. Though his lips instinctively follow me, I’m out of reach, so he settles for my neck. Sucking fervently, one may fear the spots he’s making, but in this moment, truthfully, I couldn't care less.

“Ani,” I whimper, and he growls against my nape in response. “Fuck, I need you,” I whisper. I feel his movements lurch and he mumbles something, but I can't seem to hear it over my haggard breathing.

He tears himself away from my neck, still keeping my body pressed against his. He then shifts his gaze around the room. “There’s no furniture here, I’ll just have to fuck you standing.” An audible gasp flees my mouth as Anakin slings my body around his torso, legs straddling his hips. His hands clench around my thighs as he hoists me up, securing me in place.

Fortunately, the short gown I threw on this morning made it easy for Anakin's crotch to caress my core through his pants. I push down on him and he groans at our proximity. "I was wondering when you would snap," Anakin mutters into my ear as his grip tightens. I whimper. "Screw you."

"Be patient. You will." He soothes. Digging my front teeth into my bottom lip, I drop my forehead to his shoulder as our lower halves grind against one another.

The sounds of our moans crowd the room and I can't take it anymore. "Kriff patience, I'm done waiting, General," I command in the most sensual voice I can muster. Evidently, my attempt to provoke him works because one of his hands leaves my thigh and clutches my hair in a fist, tugging my head back so his lips can crash into mine again. His other hand shifts down to his slacks. His breath hitches when he releases his cock, and so does mine when it springs up to my clothed clit. "Oh maker," I just about scream, head falling back.

His hands make quick work moving my underwear aside, and his member brushes against my folds. I shudder and screw my eyelids shut. I feel Anakin's gaze fixate on me. "Look at me." Hearing his order, I immediately obey.

Eyes fluttering open, I look into his lust-filled ones. Getting flustered by their heat, I squirm. "Y/n." He hushes, breath blowing across my face. Glancing at his features briefly, I nod, communicating what we both desperately need.

We both hold our breaths as he brings me down on his length in a slow glide. His cock pierces my entrance, and I clamp down on my incoming yelp. He was big. I hear him distractedly repeat my name, face buried in my collar. My eyes look to the ceiling in prayer.

His movements dissipate midway, and I feel his stomach clench. "You take me so well." He mumbles almost to himself. All I can do is bob my head in response. In this short pause, the pain disperses and all I feel is him - pleasure, darkness. His arms snake around my waist while mine harden around his nape.

Suddenly, he plunges into me, filling me up completely. My cry echoes throughout the room and I instantly sink my teeth into the cartilage of his ear. The growl that leaves him is next to primal. His rhythmic pounding begins to pick up speed, and I can barely keep up with each stroke. "Kiss me," he stammers out. Reeling back, I lock eyes with him before diving my tongue into his mouth.

His hips snap into my own, over and over. His stomach clenches once more and he pants into my mouth, "I'm close." Though I feel incredible, I'm not quite close to my limit, and he senses it.

One of his palms unravels from my body, steadily hovering over my center. Thinking he's going to touch me, I arch my back away from his embrace to allow space for his digits to meet my slit. But, as I wait, an unexpected pressure attacks my core. I gasp away from his lips and I peer down, leaning my forehead on his.

His hand isn't physically touching me, yet I feel as though I'm close to climaxing. Bewildered, I shoot my eyes from his floating hand to his lewd expression. His grin is strangely smug as he watches me. Then it registers: he's using the force to make me cum. Completely stunned, I simply bore my eyes into him, mouth agape.

Our orgasms come at once and wash over us at his charge. He puffs out a loud sigh of relief and continues to hold me, pumping slower than before, til the action ceases.

"Maker," I huff, "Next time, just use your words, and I'm yours." A smile forms on his face. He sheepishly nods, "Next time."

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blckfyres · 1 year

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Hi hi! Okay so those song prompts are magnificent. How about ‘17. And at once I knew, I was not magnificent - Holocene, Bon Iver’

It would be good to have something where Aemond l sees the reader for the first time at a ball or something and his own little view that he is superior to others comes crashing down because he is in absolute awe of her? Feel free to alter/tweak/change whatever!

thank you so much @littlemisscaptainfandom ! i ran wild with this one. feral. i love the idea of aemond being outplayed because of his smugness, and the ball idea - enjoy!

request a song prompt!

Magnificent

Warnings: Aemond being in deep denial lmao WC: 3333 (nice)

Prompt 17: "And at once I knew, I was not magnificent" - Holocene, Bon Iver

He heard you long before he saw you – the uneven heel clacking of a noble’s daughter who had shirked one too many dance lessons.

“No,” he heard a lilting voice laugh, impatiently. “Like this - right foot second, you dolt.”

Dolt indeed – the instruction was lost on the girl, whoever in the Seven she was. Yet another sacrificial lamb to lure the unwed dragon into marriage, no doubt. Even with one eye and a turned back, Aemond could practically smell her family’s pathetic attempt at temptation – a corset two sizes too small and a family ambition two leagues too large.

The prince didn’t deign to watch the scene. He preferred the game of gleaning, observation – seeing without seeing. Creating the tapestry in his mind and tracing the threads to know which to pull to watch it all unravel. It had long been said by the Maesters that when one loses a sense, the others bolster themselves, and indeed, all he had to do was listen.

Aemond heard the Dolt relinquish a dramatic sigh. “It seems that I simply must retire to the fray then Elyana, lest I bring shame upon our most noble house.”

The younger – Elyana – huffed.

“It would be wise. How father expects to make you a dragon bride, I will never know. You cannot dance, or sing, or embroider –”

“Yes, and lest we forget my stunning lack of maternal instinct,” you lamented. “Remember when Darya’s little one bit me?”

Aemond smiled – smug, slight, vulpine. He was right, of course, as he always was.

The sudden sound of shattered glass upon flagstones jerked Aemond out of his wager. He acted on instinct, as he always did, head whipping towards the drunken laughter and breaking his reverie. Behind him indeed stood two girls, as different as the sun and moon. The younger, dressed in fine lilac gossamer and silver, swiftly began to chase the bard and beg for another song.

And then there was you. Aemond’s eye roamed your figure, appraising the rich, dark olive of your gown and its deep, square neckline – Braavosi velvet, he’d wager, a show of wealth to have such long sleeves of the stuff. A little demure for an attempted seduction, he mused. Perhaps her family thought to appeal to mother’s piousness.

The prince would never admit that this was the longest he had stared at a woman. He simply wanted to improve his skill of gleaning, listening, to compare the observations he made with the reality before him. It was imperative to absorb every detail; the way that your gold pendant heaved with your shallow, shocked breathing, and the sliver of hair resting on your cheek. There was a power in your tensed shoulders - coiled, reactive, ready for the threat of weight. Aemond felt his fingers twitch against his will, a yearning to carry it for you.

He snapped himself back to reality with an internal grimace - the dragon cannot lie with the lamb. The music had begun again, and you finally turned towards him, face blanching at his discovered proximity.

“Prince Aemond,” you started, eyes wide, muscles coiled – caught in the courtly snare.

The lamb is too stunned to curtsey, he mused, watching your quick fingers wringing the golden band on your thumb. You certainly were the most radiant of the sacrifices offered to him so far. Though, he parried, there would be little use in marrying a fool.

Aemond hummed, relishing in your panic for a few seconds longer than any decent gentleman would.

“I’m half-blind, not half-deaf,” he said lowly, taking a step closer. “One would do well to be wary of the court, my lady. You never know who might be listening.”

Your eyes narrowed imperceptibly – a flash of something Aemond didn’t quite recognise, gone as quickly as it appeared. Idiots have trouble accepting their transgressions, he supposed, but her polite smile had something hidden behind it, like the dark side of the moon. Deep within the tides of the fray, Alicent observed the scene with a ghost of a smile. She watched the girl hide fire and intelligence in her muscles like a coiled serpent, and bitterly wished that she had the same instinct as a girl. Perhaps then she could have avoided her fate of staring at ceilings and dancing with dragons.

Her prayer was silent as she observed you, implored with eyes instead of the tongue: Keep buying your time, sweet girl. Her second son was much too perceptive not to see through your mummer’s moronity eventually – she could already see Aemond’s eye probing your mask.

“Aemond,” the Queen beckoned with a regal nod of her head.

Time. She thought, noting the way your minds danced around each other, palpable. Love matches were rare, mind matches even more so – but she could see the way you looked at one another. Time and choice. She would gift you the mercy the gods denied her.

The prince pried his eye away from you with great effort, waiting for you to answer him. You remained silent, gaze unwavering.

Interesting. He conceded as he walked towards his mother. For a dolt.

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

Your eyes narrowed through the dim candlelight. The crowd ebbed and heaved like fresh seafoam, and you searched for your sister, your anchor in the waves, like the Oldtown lightower would a lost ship. In truth, you felt uneasy without Ely, your sworn shield against courtly attentions. It had been like this ever since you were children – a symbiotic relationship, the tide to your moon. She would sing and whirl through your father’s halls, a gossamer dervish, drawing the attention to herself and leaving you free to pursue your histories and hidden halls, and hone your sharp tongue.

You finally spotted the girl by a large table of ale, humouring a dark haired young lord who had not yet grown into his long limbs. You weaved your way through the crowd to reach her, forming a courtly, waxen smile to begin your manoeuvre.

“Sister!” You gasped, watching Elyana’s dark eyes twinkle as she recognised your ruse. “Mother requires you at once–” You cocked your head, silently wondering how every little lord fell for it. “Something about Ser Randyll?”

The little lord – Arryn, you’d wager by his gleaming brooch – blanched at the sight of your mother in deep conversation with Lord Reyne and his son. You stifled a laugh watching his chest puff up slightly at the challenge – your work was done. You pried your sister away from the little falcon’s talons, barely managing to stifle your laughing fit until he was out of earshot.

“Seven hells, Y/N, it took you long enough!” she huffed, preening over your shoulder to make sure that the young Lord Lannister hadn’t seen the exchange and think her spoken for. She had always been a romantic, excessively so, even for her six and ten years.

You pinched her dimpled cheek with a grin. “That’s for having far too much mirth in calling me a dolt earlier.”

Elyana rolled her eyes, batting your hand away. “It was your grand strategy, if I recall.”

“Yes, and I accounted for the pinch.” You said wickedly, before surveying the hall.

“A job well done I’d say, The Prince heard our performance. I even refused to curtsey. He’ll no doubt relay my idiocy to the Queen, and we’ll be home in no time at all.”

Elyana regarded you pensively, gently taking hold of your hand. Her gentleness felt like a cage to you, sometimes – perceptive, inescapable. “You know you will have to marry one day.”

Your sister watched your eyes flutter, soaking in your surroundings like a sponge. Your reply was barely audible over the internal hum of your own thoughts. “Not like this.”

You had decided that long ago. You knew you couldn’t escape a married fate – all women were cursed with the knowledge of how their lives would go from the moment they stepped into their first etiquette lesson with the septa. But, if you were to be married, it would be on your terms.

Impossible, father often branded you, but always with a fond smile. If you could not escape your fate, you would fiercely guard the little time you had with your freedom as the kingsguard would protect the king.

Though sometimes, when alone in the vespertine hush of your chambers, you could admit the presence of a longing in yourself, a desire to be seen for who you were by whoever you might be sold off to. Such longing is dangerous, you told yourself. Expect the swing of the sword, never mercy. Especially if you found yourself drawn to the wielder like a moth to flame – you were lucky to have honed your courtly mask so well upon seeing his handsome face. Though you had heard takes of the “one-eyed brute”, there was little account of the beautiful shadow his cheekbones cast, and his knowing, surveying gaze.

Your sister pulled you out of your thoughts, head nodding to a balcony alcove. She knew the price you paid for duty as the eldest. “Go. Take your refuge. I’ll be with mother.”

You offered her a tired, grateful smile before wading through the crowd towards your sanctuary, too close to paradise to be aware of the shark circling.

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

It wasn’t as though Aemond had been watching you. Mother had always taught him to be an attentive host - he was merely cultivating good will, bolstering support for the war to come. He watched you grab your third - no, fourth - glass of wine, an irritated huff escaping his nose. He supposed there was little use in lying to himself any longer - he felt pulled to you the same way he felt called to the skies. Perhaps this was the lust that seemed to drive Aegon to the depths of Fleabottom every night - maddening.

The more he watched you, the more his one good eye narrowed in bewilderment. Supposedly too dim to follow a septa’s simple instruction and notice the ears of court, yet cunning enough to weave your way through this nest of dancing vipers and their hungry sons. You could redirect the attention of a young lord with a single word, and charm your father with the raise of an eyebrow. You moulded the scenes that unfolded around you, parrying dance requests with a skill he’d only seen with Ser Cole and his morningstar.

So why the overt blundering before him? He leaned against the pillar, pensive. The only rational explanation he could fathom was that you had heard stories of him and thought to demean yourself as a marriage prospect. The prince scowled. Of course. What woman such as her would want a one-eyed beast as a husband? Aemond felt his insides twist and his fingers twitch, barely containing the ire towards himself.

Despite your repulsion of him, Aemond felt his curiosity turning ravenous in his stomach as he watched you approach your sister. He could not help but want to map you as The Conqueror once did his lands – even if you did not want him, he could watch your mind work from afar. So watch he did, as your sister held your hand in hers like water. He mapped it all to memory – your hushed words, the steely set of your eyes and jaw, your deceptive smile; a sliver of his favourite crescent moon.

The hour was late and the candles burnt low. Nobody would begrudge any of the young ladies for retiring for the night – the young Tyrell girl had already sunk so far into her cups that she had to be carried to her chambers like an overwatered rose. Yet there you slithered to the alcove, alone, alert with empty company and a full cup.

Aemond had begun to follow you long before his mind registered the movement of his legs. He followed your trail through the flurry of bright skirts, drunk on the hunt. His long legs strode with a purpose that was lost to his conscious mind, stopping when he reached the boundary of the lush, red drapery. Aemond stood outside of your sanctuary for a long while before breaching it, in an act that almost reminded him of protection. From what, he did not know. A mangled dragon guarding its hoard, he thought wryly, before stepping onto the balcony with the silence of a predator.

The prince wasn’t sure what he expected. A maiden in tears after being shunned at court, perhaps – he wasn’t sure how far you’d go to keep up the show. But there you were, in the furthest corner of the alcove, with your elbows on the dark stone and your eyes to the stars. He glanced at your now-empty cup before clearing his throat.

You sighed imperceptibly before turning to face him. So you knew I was here, then. The thought made him hide a smile - the idea of you sensing his presence and ignoring him anyway, even if you tried to hide that fact. Insolent. He thought. Magnificent.

You bowed this time, with a tired, chagrin smile - an apology for earlier. “Forgive me, my Prince. It has been a while since my sister and I have been in the capital. The intricacies of court politics appear to be lost on me.”

Aemond hummed, ignoring the way his innards clenched - my prince. He rather liked the sound of that. “Yet not so unhoned that you managed to avoid that Lannister whelp,” he paused, brow raised. It made him feel less shame to know he was not the only one you rebuked. “Not to mention that little Manderly lordling.”

The Prince enjoyed watching you war with yourself - needing to keep your shield up, yet too tired and full of ire to keep up the ruse for much longer.

“Evading them hardly requires a honed mind, my Prince.” You snorted. A clever answer. He thought. Too clever.

“Aemond.” He corrected. You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. “If I am to play along with your farce, let the rest of it be real.” He amended, making his way next to you but never prying his eye away.

You breathed a laugh, toying with your rings again. “You see more with one eye than most do with two, Aemond.”

The prince hummed. “It is of little consequence. They still brand me “one-eye” after all.”

“Little,” you snorted again, a glorious sound. Real, he thought, the soft skin of your hand calling him as your voice did. Real enough to touch. “Perhaps everything seems little to the rider of the largest dragon alive.”

The mention of Vhagar earnt you a small smile - a true one that you couldn’t quite look away from. Somehow you knew that it was Aemond’s version of a face-splitting grin.

You basked in comfortable silence for a while, noting how he had placed you on his right side – away from his eyepatch. The revelation made you frown, but left your vision unobstructed. It gave you a better look at the way his hair fell, an estuary of molten silver. You committed his profile to memory - the sharp edges that were strong, true, until he suddenly met your eyes. For once, you were speechless - the lush darkness of the night and the sweet smell of gardenias were suddenly oppressive.

“I really can’t dance, you know.” You blurted.

Aemond artfully raised an eyebrow in question.

“Earlier,” you clarified. “what you heard.” You tucked your hair behind your ear with what you hoped was a self-effacing smile. “I really am a terrible dancer, it was no lie.”

Aemond nodded grimly in understanding. “There is no need, my Lady, I understand your distaste for the match.” He stood taller, and tapped his eyepatch lightly.

Aemond watched ten emotions cross your face at once, until you settled on the one that most puzzled him; anger. Your eyebrows furrowed deliciously, something he noticed you did before you wielded your barbed tongue, and your lips parted. He did not see how your heart caught in your throat, nor the way your hands almost sprung to hold his shoulders. You slapped your palms onto the cold stone instead.

“Gods no. No, that is,” you breathed, warring with yourself before finally conceding. “It is not you, Aemond. Nor the sapphire eye that likely costs more than my entire dowry,” you jested half-heartedly.

You steeled yourself for honesty, looking into the sky once again and sneering in defiance at the gods who watched. “If I am to be sold off, I at least want to choose my buyer.”

Aemond’s gaze never left you, probing your truth as if he were caught in its net. He finally understood, and you knew he did. There was little that could be said, he thought.

Your eyes were almost crazed with a repressed frustration that was finally breaching the walls of your dutiful facade. A longing to be understood that matched his own. He saw fire – not that of ‘fire and blood’, but the fire of lightning. Beautiful, terrible, calculated in its strikes. Magnificent.

You trembled as if to cull the rage from erupting out of you. Years of playing placater, unable to unleash the true potential of your mind and spirit. Aemond’s eye flitted down to the stone, observing the shaking of your hands.

He did the only thing he knew how to and rested his hand gently over yours, the same way he would calm Vhagar. Real, he thought. Warm. Much too warm. You calmed under his touch. He understood, you know he did – years at court culling your own ambition at the expense of duty. Aemond created the “one-eyed brute”, just as you created the “little dolt of a lamb”.

You placed your hand over his. Horribly improper – it made you smile under the valleys of his scars and callouses. You wondered if you could map them in your mind as the maesters mapped the stars – a sky that was your own. Aemond felt your pulse thrum under his fingers and let it reverberate – his hands, his ears, his heart, his bones, it was all you. He knew you would have to leave soon enough, but for now, he would bask in you, knowing you’ve scorched him for life.

“Aemond,” You said, hushed. “How far can a dragon fly?” You looked up to meet his faraway gaze, relishing in catching him off guard. His lips were slightly parted as he stared at your own. It took every ounce of his steel restraint not to pull you to him and show you the meaning of fire and blood.

Instead, he hummed. “Vhagar has been known to make the trip from here to Dorne in a day, give or take - ”

He stilled at the interrupting shake of your head. If you had met his eyes, you would have noticed the questioning squint of his eye. Instead, your eyes were now trained above him, not wavering from the star-spittled sky.

“No,” you began, the gold of your necklace jingling as you craned your neck - as if the stars would be able to hear you better that way. “How high? Your maesters would not tell me.”

Aemond stared at you for a moment, finally following your gaze upwards with a slight smile. You asked the maesters. Of course you did. The thought of you badgering them in the palace library filled him with a disturbing level of fondness.

“Perhaps we could find out.”

Your head whipped towards him, eyes sparkling in the dark. “We?”

Aemond hummed again, this time in affirmation as he took your hand in silent question. “If I’m steering Vhagar, who will take note of the scientific observations? Maybe you are a dolt after all, my lady.” You squeezed his hand in your own, and your answering grin was like the sun. Magnificent.

#song prompts #my writing #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond fics #hotd #hotd fics #unbowed unbeta'd unbroken #mine #magnificent

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peepeecotelette · 1 year

Text

Center of Attention

A/N: Got this idea from watching Narcos, was too good not to share. Keep in mind, English isn't my first language. I'll try my best to sort out all of the grammar mistakes.

All the credits go to the creator of this used gif.

Please don't post or repost my writings on any other platform without credited. I trust y'all.

SUMMARY: You work at the DEA. Inexperienced , naive, young and beautiful. All roads to Escobar lead to a dead end, until you come with a plan that would question your coworkers their point of view about you. Especially question Javier his sanity and his true feelings about you.

GENRE: Mixture of a lil bit of fluff and loads of angst.

TW: Mention of sexual acts, abuse, rape.

WORD COUNT: 1K. (It's my first one so bare with me lmfao)

“It's a bad plan, I'm telling you.” Javier snorted while taking a deep puff from one of the cigarettes he lost count of inhaling for the past fifteen minutes.

“Well Peña it's the only plan we've got, so suck it up.” Murphy huffed, his eyes scanning the bar in front of him. “Why so stressed about it? it's not like you’re fucking her or anything right?” Murphy asked raising a brow as he glared at his partner “Right?” Repeating the last part of his previous question.

“No.” Javier quitely answered with an aching heart as if he wished it to be different.

Wished? Wanted.

The man was hopelessly in love with you.

The way you would walk into the office with a bright smile, greeting everyone and everything as Escobar found a way to escape yet again. The moments you outsmarted not only him but the whole ass team with the connections you made throughout the case, bringing them closer to the culprit. Hell the way you would say his name in a high pitched tone as he would roughly nudge you out of his way.

Peña lost count of the moments he wanted to confess to you when it was just the two of you together. But he couldn't. You were so delicate en innocent, it was like you were written by the gods above. Javier didn't even dare thinking about destroying that with a reputation like his.

“Wow.” Javier snapped back to reality with the words of his partner as he followed the trail of his partners eyes, meeting your gaze.

God you were gorgeous, you were-

Practically naked?!

“What. The. Fuck. Is. That?” Javier narrowed his eyes at the sight of whatever the fuck you were wearing.

“A dress.” You honestly answer “You like it?”

“Don't tell my wife I told you this but you look hot.” Murphy looked at you in awe, respectfully though.

Javier at the other hand, looked at you as if he wanted to shred that dress of yours in pieces. Not sexually (which he wished it was) but in a concerned mostly protective way.

He snapped back to the scene as you tried to make your way to the bar, rappidly grabbing your wrist in distress to stop you from taking any further actions “You can't.” He gave you a sternly look “I'm not letting you cariño.” His tone softened as you met with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, whatever telenovela this is... can we please skip this part and get down to catching the drug baron part?” Steve sighed.

“Ye-.”

“No.” Your answer got cut off by the man in front of you, still holding your wrist. “This isn't safe.” Javier starts, his eyes lurking at the bar in front of him “They aren't just men, they are beasts... maniacs. You're no more than a piece of meat to them. They will rape, torture, abuse and kill you before you even get the chance to ask questions.” The harsh words of the agent made you shiver and rethink the choice you were about to make “It's not worth it..” Javier his grip around your wrist loosened “You're not worth it.”

You gulp as you and Javier made eye contact for a split second, what felt for hours as you could feel your heart jump right out of your chest.

“I have to.” You removed yourself out of Javier his grip “I'll be fine.” You reassured yourself, as the two agents in front of you started to question this whole operation themselves after Javier's words. “I promise, please just let me do this for once.” You pleaded looking back and forth in between your partners “Please.” You turn to Javier.

“You know what, let's just get drinks and forget about this whole thing.” Steve stated, fumbling with his belt “I'll tell the chief they weren't attracted to you or sum.”

“You what?” You scoffed, as you eyed Javier who couldn't help but smirk at your offended response.

But his smirk faded with the sight of the faded sparkle in your eyes. He knew you wanted this, he knew how excited you were to lead your own mission and proudly show off the information you got at the office full of stubborn sexist men.

He was torn, in putting his own desires before yours and vice versa.

What seemed like forever but only took a split second, Javier stopped the intrusive thoughts he had about you and chose for putting your needs first.

Which meant you in a bar full of wasted, violent, sex deprived gang members. Just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach but he knew he was the only one holding you back at this exact moment.

He knew he had all the power, turning this whole event in one where you would end up at his apartment on all fours getting your brains fucked out.

Javier firmly grabbed your arm pulling you closer to him as he started to put small devices on you for them to eavesdrop the conversations between you and those men, correction beasts.

“Jav-.” You were taken aback by his sudden gestures, not resisting as you loved the sensation you got from Javier's body touching yours.

“You keep your distance.” Javier huffed, trying his best not to look at you because he knew once he would lock with your eyes it would be over “If you feel uncomfortable... the slightest.” He points at a small red button on the device he put on you “If anyone tries to touch, harm or even look at you the wrong way.” He sternly points at the button again “If you hear gun shots, you're out. Forget the operation, no questions asked. Out. Are we clear?”

“Yes.” The words impatienly left your lips as you nod in obedience. “Thank you.” Your eyes finally lock again with his as you whispered the words. You placed your hands on his as they were on your hips.

“You owe me.” He looked you deadass in the eyes, only to be softened at the following sentence “Promise me to be carefull.” He cupped your cheeks “We need you.” His voice trails off “I need you.”

#javier peña #javier pena imagine #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena one shot #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #narcos fanfiction #narcos #pedro pascal #javier pena fluff

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a-student-out-of-time · 9 months

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Regarding the people being suspicious of Eden thing, it brings to mind a quote from The Incredibles 2: "Politicians don't understand people who do good simply because it's right. It makes 'em nervous." Anon would argue a lot of people in fandoms today are the same: they can't stomach the idea that there are genuinely kind people in the world, because that "makes them feel bad" for not being the same. So, Eden can't GENUINELY be a nice person, because then "they look bad in comparison".

//All of this is actually very interesting because Teruko and Arei both have very similar logic in Chapter 2:

//They have a similar sort of view that kindness, friendship and optimism are naive at best and actively harmful at worst. They've bought into the lie that reality is unilaterally terrible and everyone is an asshole out to get to you, and the only way to survive is to be an asshole right back.

//And it's definitely not for nothing, especially when you look at who says these things:

//It's a perspective I've seen in a lot of people who've been beaten down and dealt with so much awful shit in their lives that kindness feels almost alien to them.

//I've seen a lot of real people make those same conclusions, and they often decide that someone being kind is either too stupid to realize what they think they know, or they have ulterior motives.

//And like I keep saying, Despair Time is telling us that this perspective is wrong.

//Teruko's trust issues have only isolated her more and more from the others, and left her with far less information to work with than she would've had if she cooperated. Ace's antagonism and constant fights lead to him nearly getting killed. Arei actually did patch things up with Eden, and how that turned out...well, we can't really say for sure yet.

//It perplexes me how people have mostly latched onto the darkness and misery, and assume that this is some nihilistic misanthropic edgefest simply because the protagonist is the one who has to learn how to trust others. Or that David exists.

//Eden, meanwhile, is the person in the cast who best represents kindness and optimism, and instead of it being a two-dimensional platitude, it's her personal decision to be kind even though she knows how dark the world can be.

//I say all this as someone who has dealt with depression and anxiety for well over a decade at this point: Eden is absolutely right. Bottling up your emotions, withdrawing from others, and only thinking about yourself is a recipe for extremely unhealthy behavior.

//And approaching this from a writing perspective, if this were the grimdark story so many seem to think it is, characters like Eden usually die in the beginning to firmly establish the tone. They don't get scenes like this.

//Now, obviously I have no idea where the story is going to go from here, but I highly doubt that putting so much emphasis on Eden here is meant to signify that this is somehow going to prove Teruko right. On the contrary, I'm still certain this chapter will prove Teruko's decision not to trust anyone is far more dangerous and unhealthy.

//Either people didn't actually pay attention to what was happening or being said in the game itself, or they think that, because a character is kind, that somehow means they're going to be evil.

//I honestly think Eden is the least likely to be the culprit in this chapter. You can quote me on that and throw it in my face if I turn out to be wrong, but I'm sticking to it from here on out.

#mod talks #a student out of time #drdt #danganronpa despair time #eden tobisa #teruko tawaki #arei nageishi #ace markey

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angelofverdum · 6 months

Text

The Marvels (2023)

I have so much fun watching this movie. The people saying is bad just hate fun.

It obviously has its flaws, but I haven't enjoyed an MCU movie this much since Black Widow.

Nia Dacosta's direction was great. I loved all the fighting scenes, something that Captain Marvel's directors messed up in the first movie.

I love how light and fun it was. It didn't try to get you into the next movie or TV show; they were doing their own thing.

I love Carol Danvers. She is my favorite comic character, only next to my boo Jessica Drew. So, I'm always happy to see her, and this is the best she has ever been in the MCU. Nia Dacosta brought the silliness that I think it was lost in the first movie.

Teyonah Parris is a superstar. I love Monica so much. In Wandavision we didn't get to see her too much, but here she shines so brightly, literally.

The MCU hit the jackpot with Iman Vellani as Ms Marvel. One of the things I love about Ms Marvel is how much she loves Carol in the comics, so I was nervous about how they were going to portray it here, but they nailed it. And then she realized she was doing too much and apologized to Carol, just brilliant.

Also, people worried about having to watch a million movies and TV shows to understand the movie are so dumb. I follow the MCU, or I used to because the TV shows are just awful, so I didn't care because I knew Kamala and Monica from their own shows, but it didn't really matter if you watched the shows or not.

Of course, If you know them from before this movie it is an enhancing experience but it's not necessary to watch it. I'd go as far as to say that you don't even need to watch the first Captain Marvel to understand and enjoy this movie.

My favorite things of the movie:

The chemistry between the trio was perfect.

So many scenes that made me laugh out loud.

I love that they didn't give a damn about Secret Invasion as they should. This movie probably happened before the show, but I was so happy to have the real Fury back and not the pathetic version they did on that show.

The planet with the singing had me rolling. Kamala and Monica having a blast with all the dancing, and Carol was just ready to go.

I know the dudebros are going to hate that planet. They almost had an aneurysm when Megan The Stallion was twerking with She-Hulk

Kamala's interaction with everyone. She was so happy to be included.

The fighting scenes

They include a lot of Kamala's family.

Having them in casual clothes while practicing how to use their powers was amazing.

My sweet lovely Valkyrie, come back to me soon.

What I didn't like

Marvel still has a problem with the villain. It was weak, and Zawe Ashton didn't get enough material to work with. The way they tried to explain her actions was kinda confusing too.

The solution to Dar-Benn's problem was so easy and I don't understand why Monica didn't tell Carol before. It took her like 2 minutes to bring back the sun.

Post credit scenes

I couldn't care less about the young Avengers, but if this is the way to get more Kamala, fine. And I hope they also bring Xochilt's America Chavez.

For the second post-credit scene I got confused for a minute because I was sure we were in the Doctor Stranger-altered universe, but when Best entered the room he said that Charles wanted to speak to them and Maria's hero name was Binary.

But Wanda killed Charles in Doctor Strange, and Maria was Captain Marvel (I know Binary is Captain Marvel in her most powerful form, but still). So, I guess we are in another universe or reality.

I don't care about the X-men, but I admire Marvel's dedication to keeping Lashana Lynch employee; I get it.

Anyway, I love this movie, and I don't care what critics have to say 5 stars in my heart.

#the marvels #carol danvers #monica rambeau #kamala khan #ms marvel #mcu #movies #films #in my opinion #review #opinion #professor marvel

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cosmicjoke · 5 months

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Do you think Levi believes in an afterlife? I’ll try my best to explain where I’m getting at but with him he gives me the vibe of someone who has a lot of faith. As if he’s anticipating that everything that has happened will be all worth it in the end.

When we get that first scene of him with the dying soldier, when they had to throw the corpses, when Erwin died, the dead ghost comrades. There’s like this recurring pattern here with the way he reacts to death. He doesn’t bawl his eyes out, nor does he question why they died, but he expresses a sense of hopelessness instead. (I hope u know where I’m trying to get at here.)

Anywho, that’s another thing, he never thinks when certain things happen that it was in vain. In other words, there’s always a reason why they happen, he never complains about the horrible things he went through, is humble and doesn’t boast about his feats even when the whole world looks up to him because like with everything else, it will disappear eventually, and for Levi yes, it did, he’s physically lost his strength, but not his spark. The spark of pure hope, and so what does he do? He continues to go out of his way to do as much good as he possibly can.

This, I think is someone with traits not only of a pure heart, but also with pure faith, and I think those two factors fit in tandem beautifully with his character.

Sorry this got too deep, lol

Hmm, that's a really interesting question and analysis.

It's a little difficult for me to answer.

While you interpret Levi's reaction (or lacktherof) to his comrades dying as maybe evidence of him having faith in an afterlife, or that their lives will continue on elsewhere, I've always tended to interpret it more as evidence of Levi simply being USED to death, as awful as that sounds. Not that he's desensitized to it at all. I think the thing people often miss about Levi, and I think this is due to just them not paying attention to him as a character, is that his stoic facade is just that. It's a facade. But there's always subtle tells with him about how much the loss of life around him actually impacts him. He isn't immune to it at all. In fact, I would safely say that Levi is probably more deeply affected by the loss of life than any other character in the story. It bothers him more than anyone.

So when I say that I think Levi's lack of outward reaction is a result of him being used to death, what I mean is that he's come to the conclusion that death is a natural part of, not just the human condition and experience, but a part of the natural world. Again, we have to remember, Levi has been around death since he was a little boy. He watched his own mother die a slow and no doubt painful death right in front of him. And then, being in the Underground, he was surrounded by death. Death caused by many things. Disease, starvation, violence, etc... Death without meaning, basically. I think Levi learned early on that crying about it, or complaining about it, or questioning it, wouldn't change the reality of it. It wouldn't bring anybody back.

Now, when Levi joined the Survey Corps, and Erwin explained to him this idea that, if he would lend his strength to their cause, in doing so, he would be able to give meaning to the deaths of those around him, I think that idea appealed to Levi so much because he was always so stricken by the awful reality he grew up in, which was that people died all the time for no good reason, or no reason at all. I think people dying for no reason has always been something that hurts Levi deeply, precisely BECAUSE he values life so much. He thinks life matters and should be valued. He's always thought that. He thinks people's lives should be protected and nurtured and cherished. And so people dying without reason, without purpose, is something that's always upset him a great deal. It's something he understands, but it's never lessened his own belief that life matters.

So I think Levi liked the idea that, even if he couldn't save every life, even if he couldn't stop people from dying, he could still make sure that their deaths weren't in vain, and weren't meaningless. He could find a way to give their deaths meaning. And that's why, I think, Levi refuses, as you said, to acknowledge or accept that anyone's life was given or lost in vain, and why he fights to give their lives and deaths meaning in any way he can.

Basically, I think death in general is so antithetical to who Levi is as a person, the concept of death, because he believes so powerfully in the value of life. I always talk about how Levi is really the character in AoT who embodies most this idea of life having intrinsic value, of being worth something, of being important and meaningful. It's why I always say he and Zeke are diametrically opposed. He fights for life, and he fights for the idea of life mattering. He tells his soldiers constantly "not to die", and says it like it's an order. He wants to avoid death as much as possible, even as he's accepting of the brutal reality that what he strives to achieve is actually impossible. But still, he strives for it. And if he can't achieve it, he'll achieve the next best thing, which is to make sure the lives he couldn't save are still given meaning and value, by taking the sacrifices of his fallen comrades and using them to fuel his own strength and will, a strength and will he uses solely to fight for their hopes and dreams.

So, just to wrap this up. I don't know if Levi believes in any sort of afterlife or not. Or if he believes in a higher power or not. I tend to think Levi is a realist, and that he only really puts his faith in what he can see and touch and feel. He knows the world is a brutal, unforgiving, violent place, where people die all the time without good reason, without any reason at all. He's seen too much in his life, has been through too many terrible things, has been raised in too much violence and cruelty, to ever have a rose-colored picture of the way the world works, or the way death works. His "non-reaction" to his comrades deaths isn't due to a lack of feeling on his part, but rather just an exhausted understanding. This is the way the world works. This is the way life and death is. Sudden, brutal, impartial, cruel.

But the thing that makes Levi so remarkable is that he DOES understand this, and is more intimately acquainted with it than anyone, and yet, he STILL thinks life has inherent value. He STILL believes that life is worth fighting for and protecting and nurturing. He STILL believes that life is worth it, despite all the pain and suffering that goes with it.

At his core, despite his brutal experiences in life, Levi is an optimist and an idealist.

And again, I draw a comparison between him and Zeke. I've had people try to argue to me that Zeke's pessimistic outlook on life, his belief that life is meaningless and has no value, and thus his dismissive treatment of other people's lives, is a result of his upbringing and the experiences he had as a child and young man. But I say no to that. I call BS. Because Levi was taught and exposed to all the same brutal lessons about the frailty and futility and pointlessness of life and death that Zeke was, the same lessons about the cruelty of human beings to one another, only in even more brutal, intimate and close up fashion. And yet, DESPITE THAT, he retained an ability to see and understand life's value, and always carried with him a driving desire to protect and help others, and to ensure the value of their existence was acknowledged and represented by his fighting for it, by lending his strength to the cause of their lives.

So I don't really think it's so much a question of whether Levi has faith in a higher power, or an afterlife, but more so that Levi simply has faith in the value of life in general. He believes wholeheartedly that life matters, that people's lives matter, that they should be protected and cared for and fought for, even when the world around him tries so hard to snuff that life out. Even when the suddenness and unfairness and cruelty of death presses down around him, Levi never loses faith that life is worth fighting for. It shows an extraordinary strength and goodness of heart, then, that Levi retains such a belief against, not just the world's, but other people's indifference and dismissiveness toward life. He never allows the cruelty of the world, or of other people, to turn him cruel.

So how we see Levi in the end, even in his disabled physical state, and despite the devastating and encompassing loss he himself personally experienced, still doing all he can to help better people's lives... well, that's just who Levi is. Who he's always been. An exceptionally good person who, despite growing up in a world which constantly assaulted him with the lesson that life is worthless and without value, never submitted to such a notion, and never gave in to it.

That's true strength. And yeah, that's true faith. Maybe not in a god, or a heaven, but in life itself.

#Levi Ackerman #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin

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floral-poisons · 2 years

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Hey hi hello! If it’s okay with you, may I request the first year gang (separately) dating a male!MC and like it’s their first time dating another guy and like they’re figuring it out. Nothing angsty, lots of fluff, just the boys having a comedic gay crisis at how cute their boyfriend is.

hi anon!! of course you may request first year gang figuring out things with their male! mc boyfriend!!! honestly, there's not enough soft lgbtqia+ stories out there. thankfully things are changing now! i also just had to post this after i finished it!!

i also couldn't help but think of heartstopper when seeing this request. so of course i had to give one of the boys the heartpulling, tearjerking beach scene between nick and charlie. still have not watched it yet because of a lack of time but i will get around to it.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

dating in general wasn’t something that crossed sebek’s mind. and of course all the media he consumed was centered on men and women. all dating advice was geared towards women. there’s just one problem.

sebek wasn’t dating a woman.

“it’s the fifth date! i have to do something nice.”

no one, not even malleus, could make him go through all this effort. and all this effort for a human? he wouldn’t even consider prior!

sebek was looking at flowers. there were a ton of choices! he was confused as to which ones to get. but then he thought about it. would flowers even be suitable for you, his date? maybe his boyfriend in the future? were flowers too much?! would you think he’s going too fast?! humans were so complicated! the endless possibilities of what could go wrong just by flowers was beginning to cause his eyes to spiral.

lilia put a hand on sebek’s shoulder. “don’t worry too much.” he smiled, as if reading sebek’s mind. “whatever you get (y/n), he will be very happy. he likes you a lot. don’t fret about it. besides, who doesn’t like flowers? if a man can’t handle flowers then he’s not really a man at all. and i think (y/n) likes flowers very much.”

“ah...okay...we’ll go with that one!”

sebek showed up at your doorstep a few minutes early, holding the large flower arrangement he had picked out. his weekly allowance, drained. but that’s okay. anything for you.

you opened the door, still wearing a face mask. you hadn’t anticipated for sebek coming early though. “sebek!”

“i...ummm...i didn’t know which flowers to get you so i got you these!” he exclaims, cheeks going completely red as he looked away.

“sebek! these are lovely!” you exclaim, taking them. you took a deep breath, allowing the scent of the flowers to flood your nose. “and these will do wonders for the dorm. it’s so dead in here. anyways, come in, come in. i just have to get this mask off and then do my skincare routine and then we can leave.”

sebek was just...in awe with your reaction. you were so cute! flowers were so romantic after all.

he didn’t need to worry.

ACE TRAPPOLA

today was just a night in for the two of you. ace was sitting down, scrolling on magicam until he noticed you bringing out a few comics he’s never seen before. he had to crawl over next to you to take a look. “what are those?”

“comics!” you exclaim. “i don’t know how they managed to come here? but these are the ones i had back at home! look! this one is about scarlet witch aka. wanda maximoff! she’s such a cool character. i wanted to be her for halloween when i was a kid once.” you rubbed your chin in thought.

“a witch? what kind of magic does she use?” he skimmed the pages. “whoa!”

“cool right? she can rewrite reality.” a devious expression appeared on your face. “if i could rewrite reality i’d make every food azul ate takoyaki!” your eyes turned into stars.

“(y/n)! that’s cold!” he exclaims. “how come i never knew my boyfriend could be this way?”

“because you don’t know me like i do.” you smirked. “oh! this one is the pride issue of superman aka. jon kent. he’s got a boyfriend! and this one is the issue for red robin and his boyfriend! they’re quite cute!”

ace took the comic books, looking at them and then you as you were pulling out comic after comic.

“this one’s the nubia pride edition. nubia’s my favorite hero alongside red robin! and this one is harley quinn and poison ivy! the original superhero couple! and i think i have a lot more...” you dug through. “oh! doom patrol is also great!”

you stopped, looking at ace who was looking at the covers. they were romantic, cute. they reminded him of the times where you guys had climbed onto the roof of ramshackle and you laid your head on ace’s lap, similar to this pride cover. “is something wrong?”

“no...” he looked up at you. his cheeks were dusted pink. “i...i’m not used to relationships you know. and you’re the first guy i’ve ever dated. but it feels a lot more right. if that makes sense! i mean i don’t mean any offense to the girls i dated before you i...you make me feel good. like this!” he pointed to the red robin cover. “this is us! and i don’t know...no one else makes me feel this way.”

“awww! you’re so cute!” you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “you’re the bernard to my tim drake!”

“wait but i wanna be the superhero!”

“no. that’s me.” you smile. “besides, i’m the one who saves you from danger most of the time anyways. which makes me your super-boyfriend!”

“super-boyfriend...i like that a lot.”

DEUCE SPADE

deuce had honestly spent too much time being a punk than dating. there was that one time in middle school when he dated a girl in his class. but did that really count? no one counted middle school relationships for a reason.

despite getting into a relationship, he was still focusing on his studies. the two of you were peers trying to study alchemy so you both can pass crewel’s class and not have to deal with the punishment.

except the two of you absolutely sucked at it.

after about an hour, you guys had basically given up. you fell asleep on your textbook after your brain refused to absorb the words on the page.

“oh. he’s got goosebumps...” deuce noticed that today was a bit chilly and you weren’t wearing too many layers. grim had said you did not believe in undershirts.

“i...do you put jackets on your boyfriend?” deuce questions. lots of men he’s encountered would say no. that goes against masculinity. but what’s the point of being masculine if you’re going to get sick? or just be uncomfortable in general?

there was something calming about the fact that you fell asleep in his presence. it meant you trusted him and that you felt safe with him.

deuce removed his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, making sure to have it on your body as much as possible. your shivering ceased.

“there. now i’ll clean this up...” he began picking up the books until hearing you mumble.

“mom...you should meet my boyfriend...you’d like him...” you turn your head. “he’s sweet...caring...got a bit of a temper but it’s more funny...i think you’d get along...”

his heart swelled upon hearing that. boyfriend!! boyfriend!! you called him your boyfriend! you were so cute too when you talked in your sleep.

“ah! wait that sounds creepy!” deuce’s face went red before he continued to clean up the workspace. the last thing he’d want is to scare you away.

you made him happy. and he didn’t want that to go away.

EPEL FELMIER

going to harveston was a lot better than staying back at the school for winter break, being left alone with the octotrio and grim in the rundown ramshackle dorm. you were surprised to hear from epel that his grandmother in particular wanted to invite you.

“how does she know about me?” you ask.

“well i...i told her about you in my letters to her.” epel’s face goes pink with embarrassment.

“well i hope you wrote good things!”

“don’t worry.” he smiles. “i only grot great things.”

your cheeks went hot. “i wasn’t expecting that.” you laugh.

epel was about to knock when the door opened, revealing his grandmother. “epel! (y/n)! you’re here! and you are just as handsome as i imagined you to be.”

“awww. well thank you miss. felmier.” your cheeks grow hotter.

“come in, come in.” she shuffled back inside. “epel’s told me all about you! well most of his letters were worries about how to impress you and what boys you age like nowadays. i told him to rely on the basics. they’re still around because they work!”

“grandma...” epel muttered as he closed the door behind you two.

“there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. you know, he was all tongue tied about confessing.”

“really?” you raised an eyebrow. epel was pretty confident approaching you. a little awkward but who wouldn’t be when confessing to their crush?

“he didn’t know if he should be more upfront or subtle. i told him upfront is always the best.” she poured you a cup of hot tea and handed it to you. “he also had a rather tough time figuring things out. in the end, i told him it’s whatever his heart desires. and if it desires you, then so be it.”

“awwww.” you turned to epel. “you’re such a softie~”

“i am not!” his face was red. “just...okay...only for you.”

JACK HOWL

beach dates were not your favorite. you disliked the sand getting everywhere, especially in your bags. and after you left and went home, you’d find sand in places where it wasn’t supposed to be. but a beach date with jack? it wasn’t so bad.

jack hadn’t thought much about dating you. it was his first time dating a guy, yes. and also his first time dating in general (middle school and elementary school didn’t count). sitting in silence, however, gave him the space to think.

you guys have been dating for a few weeks now...did that make you boyfriends?

but what if you didn’t consider jack your boyfriend yet? what if you wanted to take it slow? jack didn’t mind but thinking about the possibility of making you uncomfortable made shivers run down his spine.

that was the one thing he didn’t want to do.

“jack? jack?”

“huh?” he turned to you. you had opened the container of fruit you brought. he had watched you open up a melon with your bare hands and without breaking a sweat. it was very attractive and he had to go to the bathroom to put water on his face because it was so hot.

“you want some fruit? you said you were hungry on our way here.”

“oh...yeah. you don’t have to feed me you know.”

“why? you’re my boyfriend! i have to take care of you!”

“boy...boyfriend...” he blinked. you were smiling widely, holding a fork with a melon piece attached to it. “i like being your boyfriend...you’re my boyfriend...” he smiles.

your own cheeks go hot. “i am.”

“that makes us boyfriends.” his smile grows wider before he leans in and takes the melon piece in one bite. he tried to say something with his mouth full but you couldn’t get it.

“what was that?”

“i love being boyfriends.” he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “it’s comforting.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #diasomnia #heartslabyul #pomefiore #savanaclaw #sebek zigvolt #deuce spade #ace trappola #epel felmier #jack howl #twst first years #male mc #male yuu #male reader

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sepublic · 2 years

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What if Belos returns to the Demon Realm and STILL manages to pass himself off as the ‘benevolent Emperor’ who’s here to save everyone??? Blaming the draining spell on the CATTs, claiming that the Day of Unity would’ve given them salvation, but Eda’s curse corrupted it...! Pointing to the Collector, released by one of the rebels; Explaining how his monstrous form is a result of the Collector’s cruelty or something, assuming he doesn’t find his staff and some palismen and regain his ‘human’ form! And people are so in denial, so DESPERATE, unable to believe things have gone this wrong, that they dedicated their lives to their own genocide...

Some of them believe Belos. Like him, they can’t accept the awful truth. Some of the Coven Heads continue to go along with him (possibly Osran, Vitimir, Mason, and Hettie Cutburn to give them spotlight as antagonists), even as a spiteful Kikimora explains how she heard firsthand that it was always Belos’ idea, and ends up siding with the CATTs of all people because she isn’t going to let this guy get away with what he’s done to her! And Kiki is a damning source herself... Maybe the Golden Guard graveyard is brought up against Belos, as proof of his corruption.

It’s like what he’s always done; Belos was responsible in a lot of ways for the Collector being freed. So we have a dangerous incident of ‘wild magic’ that he’s the real cause of in a self-fulfilling prophecy, Belos offers himself as the solution, when in reality he’s making the threat even worse for people. And people, scared and unaware, dedicate themselves to him, all over again...

@fermented-writers-block even suggested that Belos’ ability to puppet skeletal corpses will be used for a Titan! Either King’s dad (whose skull got split open) or another one of the Titans. Which could bring back that deleted scene from Hunting Palismen, in which the Coven Heads are shown a vision of the Titan being revived; Maybe that concept wasn’t dropped at all, just reworked in the context of the Collector. And Belos will outright show that exact same vision, explaining how the Titan defeated the Collector once before; And as an agent of his will, Belos needs the help of the witches to bring back their savior one more time against the Collector, truly enacting the Titan’s will this time by reviving it! There’s still that giant GREEN heart in his throne room...

#the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #speculation #theory

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rinwellisathing · 1 month

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You're Awful, I Love You: Part 43

Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge

“Murder in the streets! Is the Flaming Fist failing its duty to protect the people!? Sources say yes! Read about it here! Hot off the presses!” The young dragonborn squeaked as she waved a newspaper in the air. A tall tiefling with blue-grey skin and close cropped blond hair handed the girl some money, more than the paper was worth, and took a copy, reading it with a frown. His sister and another Tiefling with honey brown hair and striking green eyes stood beside, tending a little girl with dark blonde hair and small newly curving blue horns who was hopping up and down eagerly. “Tibs, you know how The Baldur's Mouth is...Don't take it to heart.” His twin gave a small, sympathetic frown. “Dear, you know they criticize us almost daily. Just focus on doing our duty...We will put a stop to these killings.” His wife assured him, picking up the little girl and holding her towards the off-duty fist. “Still...is this my fault, that body near the school a few months back, should I have looked further into it...” The man, Tibs, Gauntlet Tiburon Thalassia when it was proper, thought out loud. “At the time I didn't even think of what it could mean....Jaina, are you sure you didn't see anything?” His sister, Jaina Thalassia, bit her lip and lowered her head. She couldn't bring herself to recount her chance meeting with The Dread Executioner. There was something about him, far more ominous than an ordinary cultist. She told herself that fact made her concerned for her brother, not that she hesitated because he'd been friendly to her, almost charming.

As the family stood discussing the news, the little girl giggled happily and pointed. “Mama! Papa! Auntie! Beau'ful lady!” The toddler squealed with excitement, her tail wagging happily as she squirmed in her mother's arms and pointed to a stunning elven woman with dark hair and eyes, exquisitely dressed in a black and violet traveling suit, purchasing a paper. Tomi smiled at the little girl as she took her copy of the gazette. “So you think I am beautiful?” She giggled and inclined her head. “Thank you, sweetling.” She turned to lock eyes with Jaina and her expression caused the young teacher to freeze like a cornered doe, her eyes took on an unsettling look and she raised a finger to her lips before turning and walking away. “Beau'ful lady! Beau'ful lady!” Her niece's happy squeals and clapping brought Jaina back to reality and she shook off her discomfort, continuing her morning walk with her family.

Below the city streets, Sentry stood at his latest canvas. The opera scene hanging triumphantly over his favorite mirror, now depicting several running, screaming nobles and at least five more impaled upon the bloodied crystals of the grand chandelier, pieces of red stained glass scattered amongst entrails and viscera across the carpeted floor.

His current work was a bloodied hand clasped with one painted inky black. Himself and Gortash sprawled atop two closely placed, bloodstained altars. Gortash was flayed and bits of him chewed and eaten from the legs up to his neck, Sentry's mouth was stained in blood and gore, his belly swollen and the beginnings of small sharp claws beginning to tear through the flesh were poking up through the taught skin. The sky above was red with angry black clouds and lightning and all along the ground below the altars was strewn with signs of death.

He sighed happily as he looked at the picture before him, his hand moving down to rest on his stomach, now visibly round beneath the baggy, paint splattered shirt he wore. Leaving to collect materials was getting more and more difficult recently and he found himself sleeping a lot to conserve energy, curled up with Malta and the gnolls for far longer than he would have in the past. Father's anger had gotten worse as well, adding to the fatigue. While the enchanted ink he was tattooed with and Malta's presence did weaken Father's hold just a bit, the anger had grown such that sometimes Sentry found himself losing consciousness from the pain in his head, engulfing his mind in blood red agony.

The dreams and memories were getting worse as well. Sentry half wondered if in his infinite pettiness, father was playing on his fear and pain from his days being trained as a breeder or the days when he had been to weak to push Jackal off of him and send him howling. But Sentry would never equate this with the sort of breeding father wanted. Sentry had chosen Enver as the father of his child. Sentry had eagerly milked his lover's seed from him and practically begged him to claim his womb. It was because Enver was not a Bhaalist, and moreover, was someone Sentry cared deeply for, maybe the person he'd cared most for in his entire life, his equal, his partner, that this was different. Father could not, no, father WOULD not, take that from him.

Far above the sewers where Sentry worked, Enver was feverishly building and writing. His desk strewn with gears and cogs, scraps of metal, papers as well. So many bloody papers. Patterns, schematics, letters... Standing across the back of the table, a series of miniature models of the design he was perfecting. At first blush, they would appear to the untrained eye to be simple toy soldiers, albeit ornate ones, but a trained artificer would recognize a prototype in miniature. They wielded swords or crossbows and wore beautifully designed armor decorated in gold filigree. A paper haphazardly tacked up behind them christened them 'The Steel Watch'. Among the countless blueprints, a letter in infernal lay open, illustrations of a mechanical heart wreathed in fire circled a dozen times and copied in many variations across other scraps of paper. Nearby, drawings of a brain and hastily scribbled notes. It was coming together, slowly but surely. Enver himself was showing signs of wear and tear after what seemed like endless nights awake and never leaving his workshop. Plates of half finished food were piled forgotten on a side table, empty bottles of liquor littered the floor. Dark circles, more prominent than usual, decorated his eyes, he'd grown out a ten-day's worth of stubble, and the cot in the corner lay undisturbed.

It did begin to occur to him finally, however, that he hadn't seen his dear Executioner in some time. He felt an irritating tug at his heart at that thought. It was not in Enver's nature to get close to someone. Affection caused nothing but pain and people were best used as a means to an end. But not Sentry. Sentry was uniquely broken in a similar vein to Enver himself. Sentry understood, only he could be considered a partner, a lover, an equal. When Enver pictured his iron fisted rule over first Baldur's Gate and then all of Faerun, he could never picture Sentry anywhere but at his side, standing tall and imposing as an equal. Sentry could not be subjugated, refused to be conquered. Enver respected that and it made him desire the tiefling even more.

With these thoughts racing through his mind, he pulled a blank piece of paper in front of him and began to write. The message heavily coded with the cipher only known between the two of them. He scrawled feverishly, asking his beloved Bhaalist to come to him, forcing his words to sound coy rather than pleading or desperate. Yet he was, he needed Sentry. Only his Dread Executioner could soothe him and give him the rest he grudgingly admitted he required. As he signed the letter, he took a deep breath and noticed the sour scent of sweat and rotted food in the room. With a sigh, he staggered to his feet and made his way to the cluttered table of plates, collecting as many as he could and carrying them to a wall in the corner of the room. He pressed a hand to one of the bricks and a small pulley revealed itself. He placed the plates on the metal platform and gave the rope a few tugs, sending the plates down to the kitchen. It took him some time, but once all the plates and bottles had been discarded, he staggered to the stairs, slowly making his way back to the main house. If he planned to see Sentry, he didn't want his partner's first reaction to be chastising him about overworking himself.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #tiefling #oc #durge #dark urge #writing #fanfic #gortash x durge #durgetash #lord enver gortash #enver gortash

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pearblossommina · 10 months

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ToG Read-A-Long, Kingdom of Ash, Day 10

So - it’s come, today’s the day, in reality, the read-a-long is finished!

(But I’m still just barely starting part two - Gods and Gates)

I have no intention to stop now

It’s a delayed read-a-long, but I’ll keep reading

Ch 68

Dorian bird - to Dorian mouse! He’s really getting the hang of this shapeshifting thing

HE BURIED THE WYRDKEYS IN SHALE ROCK Dorian, baby, I love you, but what the fuck. If you weren’t gonna bring them with you, why didn’t you just leave them with Manon and the others?!?

(What if you die - literally - what are you going to do if you die)

(I swear to god if you die I’m going to throw this book at the wall)

Oh no. Maeve is here.

Ch 69

I still think Darrow is a piece of shit, and it’s kind of amazing that he has so little respect for Aelin after all that she’s managed to accomplish. I think Lysandra didn’t do her any favors pulling the shapeshifter decoy game, but she has a point. The army, the whole armada, and all of these warriors, are here to serve Aelin, not some dusty old man from a random court in her kingdom. He better learn soon to start affording her some respect. What more can she possibly do to prove herself?

Ch 70

Oh god damn it. I love how Maeve and Erawan knew Dorian was hiding there the whole time and STILL decided to have their casual conversation and catch him up on the plot. Now he knows Aelin is safe and that Chaol is probably safe - and all about Maeve and her valg heritage.

But also, uh oh, he was found

(Shit)

(Okay)

(You better learn fire power real quick)

(Unleash flames and fuck this Valg queen up)

Ch 71

Um? Uhhh.

Of the two evils, I would definitely describe Maeve as the lesser, since she spent centuries just playing Fae Queen, compared to Erawan who actually wants to take over the world - it’s possible that she could be bargained with and allowed to stay in this realm. They both do want the same things - in a way - to shut the doors and bar all other valg from ever entering. I find it very interesting that Dorian is willing to ally with her. But I do think offering her an alliance through marriage is a bit much, Lmao. If anything I’d let her help with the key quest, wield them to seal off the Valg realm and send Erawan back, and then tell her to fuck off back to her own continent, never to darken their doorway again.

Dorian’s really interesting right now. He’s right here in the thick of it. I don’t want the scene to change to another character but I get the feeling it’s going to real quick here.

Ch 72

Yep, lol

Aw, but that scene between Gavriel and Chaol was so sweet. Maybe you can let him father your kid; too. Or he can be like, sort of a grandfather. Since your kid probably won’t get to know their own grandfather.

Did the Ironteeth witches leave because Manon summoned every witch to her legion? Or are they still here to make life worse for everyone?

I mean - they’re not HERE - so, hopefully they’re doing the cool thing and joining forces with Manon.

But the air is stagnant, and maybe something horrible is about to happen.

Ch 73

MAEVE. I want to believe that you are our friend, that you just came from a spooky, shitty planet and you truly do like this world and want to stay here. I want to believe that after Erawan is destroyed, you’ll behave yourself, and won’t try to bring about the end of life as we know it. But I don’t trust you? You kind of tortured the main character - viscously - and you psychologically tortured Rowan by making him believe that his first mate died pregnant with their child. Like, listen, I think people can come back from the dark side, but you’re pretty deep in it, Maeve. You have got a LOT to atone for, and if you think befriending Dorian is gonna make up for everything then you’re fucking wrong.

Ch 74

Gross

Super uncomfy.

Good thing Erawan didn’t want it

I hated watching her shapeshift into Aelin. how dare you use her likeness - after what you did to her! You disgust me, Maeve

Ch 75

(You guys got this)

(Don’t give up)

100,000 is a lot but you guys got this

Ch 76

“Not all Valg are evil.”

This is so bizarre. Is this really the same book where Maeve was torturing Aelin? Are we really gonna brush that off? In theory - I love this idea - a villain redemption - sure - I’m stupid and I love that trope - but what the actual heck?

In the same book?

In the same book with Aelin over here suffering lingering trauma and wishing for it all to be over? Wishing herself dead?

I’m not saying I don’t believe in the ability for a person to change

It’s just!

Maeve?

It is so sudden? And it is so jarring?

Ch 77

Shit

So do we trust her, or is she just as bad as we remember?

(Ugh I’m so tangled up inside)

(I felt like she was trying to open up, trying to be his friend)

(If she cares about spiders she can care for the other creatures of this earth)

(Maeve - we don’t use dark mind control magic on our friends)

(So if you’re really friends….)

(Stop)

(Let him go)

Ch 78

Wow

Hell yeah

Not bad, Dorian. Holy shit. You actually did it. You actually got away. With your life, and all three keys.

And you didn’t kill Maeve, even though she tried to double cross you

Wow

Hell yeah

#tog read along 2023 #kingdom of ash

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rueitae · 1 year

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Season 1, Episode 9 the French connection caper for @csweekly

I am so late. The entire family has been sick.

But I am READY for the pain once again.

Dr. Bellum’s turn to make the slideshow. Her’s is very techy. Also, Chase I know he eats mints all the time, but for it to show up prominently in his profile that VILE created of you, that is something.

I’m sorry but i LOVE that Chase saved Zack’s cover I’m dying. This entire show remembers that not everyone knows everything and absolutely leans into it and it’s more fun than other shows that try this.

But they apparently don’t care about the cell phone she stole. They probably think she was talking to Chase the whole time which is actually a hilarious AU. Someone please write that.

“Carmen Sandiego isn’t working alone” *points to Player*

“Sounds like we have plan B as in bait” *AGGRESSIVELY points to Player*

The lucky cat coat my beloved. “It was on sale” truly one of the greatest lines ever.

You GO Julia. Gosh she’s such a good person. She tries to include Chase even after he’s been absolute trash to her. And she finally gets to let loose a bit. This argument is so good. Needed to be had for both of them. All season Julia has needed to get this out. And really it’s the first dose of reality towards Chase turning a new leaf. He’s not in charge like in Interpol. He may be an agent but hes been demoted down the food chain and having to come to terms with his attitude not jelling with ACME.

“Since you are Chief’s favorite” until Zack joins, apparently

Everyone is plotting something but it’s not what the person who says the line thinks. Chase thinks Carmen is plotting a caper when she’s actually at a loss for VILE leads and on vacation. Carmen thinks Shadowsan is plotting on how to get her back when he’s really planning to join her. Fantastic little exchange there.

Ivy predicts VILE’s next hq. The foreshadowing in this show.

I love the siblings in this scene. I have never seen any sequence of events so sibling in my life.

Also others have pointed it out but Carmen can’t relax. That is heartbreaking. Honestly her entire childhood simultaneously is filled with good memories and also is a complete nightmare. Get this girl a professional to talk to.

This scene where we find out how Coach Brunt feels did not properly fill me with absolute horror the first time. Now it does. It just makes me scream nooooo because Shadowsan had a clean getaway. And Chase might have been spared.

Okay. Yes. This scene. With the toothpaste. This is when I knew with absolute certainty that Chase was getting a redemption arc. Characters typically don’t get to be shown such self loathing and not turn it around in the end. And I developed a desperate desire to see him and Carmen work together (AND I GOT MY WISH).

Also vile brand toothpaste what the heck. Why does it exist lol

I’d pay money to know what was running through Player’s head when he read that note the first time, before he read it aloud to Carmen

Carmen no don’t smile this is not your average caper. For you to test your abilities.

The way we see that Chase has actual interrogation training when he chooses to use his head. A+ awful singing. He’s seen over half the Faculty now! That truth extractor is TERRIFYING. I use it in every fic.

Red Drone tapping on the window. Adorable. Simple. Effective.

OKaY casually BENDING METAL with her BARE HANDS

Aww red brings out Ivy's eyes but red is not Zack’s color lol! I would be terrified too Zack.

Love this scene. Chase is accusing Carmen of everything and she just sounds so kind as she rescues him. She knows it’s not true and she’s okay being the bad guy as long as others are safe.

Reminding the audience that Carmen has a taser.

First time seeing the pen! At this point I can’t help but see Carmen’s stress here and think she has to know that the status quo is changing. She looks like a deer in headlights. Already in way over her head.

Also he’s heavy lol. Carmen is very obviously strong and she struggles to pull Chase deadweight. I don’t blame her it’s hard to do. The fact that she makes headway is impressive.

The way Brunt finishes that sentence, “too late” I tell you I am never prepared for what is to come. This entire sequence is just *chefs kiss*. The absolute methodical way that Brunt corners Carmen, isolates her, strips her of all of her agency, makes her helpless. TEARS THE COAT IN HALF!!!!!! It’s SUPER EFFECTIVE. I know it’s already been pointed out but it’s such a parallel to her childhood but now Carmen sees the truth of it all.

And I just really love a good whump scene.

Also, friendly reminder that Player. Heard. EVERYTHING. Sign him up for therapy too.

The moment Carmen realizes what’s about to happen is the moment she can’t breathe.

Shadowsan didn’t even need to see Ivy to realize that Carmen was back at the warehouse. It still astounds me how fast he was. I also love how intense he is up until he can’t any longer. It’s like it’s so hard for him to drop this act that he’s played for so long.

Again. Player heard everything. The terror of hearing your best friend in a fight for her life and there’s literally nothing he can do.

Ahh and the gradual realization that Shadowsan’s not who he seeeeeems. The view of Carmen not dead. The broken lock. The way he visibly softens as he tells her to follow him. The way he gets uncomfortable under her questioning now that he can’t hide behind his gruffness. I am absolutely delighted every time I watch this I remember being SO shocked and thrilled the first time I watched this. It’s the joy of seeing everything fall into place plot wise. So satisfying.

“There is nothing more to tell” LIAR

Carmen’s joy when she gets confirmation the coat was empty!!! AND Shadowsan being GENUINELY proud of her instead of upset about it please. I know considering the circumstances in which he found her, that Shadowsan would consider himself far from her father figure. But it’s the role he was given in life. And he’s TRYING.

“You knew what they’d do to me when I said no” it’s only after the confrontation with Coach Brunt that Carmen can really understand why Shadowsan did what he did.

The way skeptical Player still apologizes to Carmen in empathy that Shadowsan leaves. (Lol Player is so unapologetically on Carmen’s side to call Shadowsan the worst even after all of that. Considering the nightmare scene in the lucky cat caper there have been Talks and this is just what best friends do gosh I wish we had a scene where Player grills him but also he respects that’s Carmen’s agency so urghhhh) (also also it’s cute Player calls Chase a detective rather than agent in a nice homage to the older CS iterations) And we see the gift of a new hard drive. It’s. This is SUCH a perfect season finale. Enough answers to respectably tie off many s1 plot points but with the hard drive and Shadowsan’s dodgy answers leaves plenty of promise for the next season.

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandiego weekly #cs weekly #csweekly #sorry for the late #I’m on vacation with a sick infant #which really isn’t much of a vacation #cs liveblog

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goodbye-paycheck-hello-yarn · 1 year

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Fibre crafts and Art History time

So for those of you who don't know, I'm majoring in Art History at the moment and came across some paintings I'd like to share with you fibre friends.

First let's take a minute to set the scene of the Industrial Revolution (I'll keep this brief). The Ind. R is mainly associated with Britain, but was occurring across Britain during the late 18th century until early 19th century. This time saw a complete overhaul of hand-made goods in favour of machine made ones with new technology of the time. As machines grew and got more complex, more people were needed to work them. People all over Britain flocked to the cities for work, overcrowding them and creating awful conditions.

The use of these machines to make previously had crafted items such as the powerloom and the Crompton Mule was revolutionary, but had some awful affects on the working class.

^here's a basic timeline that shows some of the other significant creations of the time.

The invention of these machines saw a lot of crafters and seamstresses losing work. These people were already living primarily on poverty, seamstresses often worked for 3 days straight with no breaks to make ends meet. Now the population were not oblivious to the plight of these overworked, exhausted and hungry (primarily) women. There were people who were anti Industrial Revolution for a myriad of reasons (destruction of 'the home', pollution, overpopulation of cities, long working hours, child labour and loss of localised industry to name a few).

The figure of the lone seamstress was a popular subject in art of the 18th century, but at this time took on a heavier feel to them. Still here? Lets look at 2 in particular.

The first is 'Song of the Shirt' by George Frederic Watts. However I've seen it called 'The Seamstress' as well. Painted in 1847, In this picture we see a tired seamstress with her head in her left hand clearly exhausted. Her sewing project lies in her lap with her right hand resting on top. She looks incredibly frail, almost like a withered porcelain.

G.F Watts was at times quite anti Ind.R and wanted to show the reality of the situation and the massive poverty it was bringing about.

Painting No.2 is quite similar but a little clearer.

This one is really striking. It's also called 'The Song of the Shirt' painted by Albert Daniel Rutherson in 1903. This lady, like the other looks a little like death warmed up to be honest. She sits on a rocking chair, a little hunched over with fabric in her hands and a sewing kit in front of her. Her attention is elsewhere. She looks a little like me when I have to knit sleeves. Even without being up close you can see bags under her eyes and sallow skin. She looks unwell. The composition is quite cool actually, the pale background kind of forces you to look at her. This may be one of my favourite paintings ever made.

So why have I brought this up. Why did I wake up at 6am with an urge to share these paintings. Well, I think as fibre artists we can sometimes forget our roots. Crafting these days can be so overpowered by 'buy this tool!' 'buy this yarn you will never use hurry its on sale!' (in my opinion at least). Personally, I knit and crochet to avoid fast fashion and to create garments I know I will wear and use. Fast fashion is everywhere nowadays. People are still working 16hr shifts for very little pay, at the same time, taking work away from artisanal crafters in favour of a cheap garment.

Not much has changed in the fibre community since the 18th century. Let's bring back the idea of criticising the industry. Let's show the world that these women did not over work themselves to death for nothing.

Thanks for reading I love you <3 (idk how to add emoji on laptop :,( .)

#fiber art #art history #industrial revolution #knitting #knit #sewing #seamstress #history #history posting #please feel free to add to this! i'd love to hear opinions!#knitblr #crochetblr #yarn #crochet #fibre arts

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reikeip · 2 years

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Crossroad ♱ Chaos 7

Location: Underground Livehouse

Keito: (I thought the best course of action would be to take the initiative, convince Sakuma-san to take charge and resolve this issue for me.)

(Sakuma-san isn’t all that enthusiastic about student council activities, so it was a good excuse to try and wring him into some involvement.)

(My ideal would’ve been Sakuma-san enacting a flashy, riotous scene—A violent rampage, a fight to the death, one that ended in his deliverance of Eichi. It would’ve been better that way.)

(Student Council President Sakuma Rei’s renown would swell, he’d be awe-inspiring.)

(Simultaneously the frivolous students, who make up the great majority of Yumenosaki Academy’s student body to this day, would harbor resentment towards Sakuma-san—The one who laid waste to their playground.)

(Sakuma-san would be alone, condemned by all that surrounds him.)

(In a position like that, Sakuma-san would have no choice but to turn to the student council—The only family he has left, the only ones left to use as his chess pieces…)

(Sakuma-san loves his family—So long as he thinks of the student council as something like a home to him, I’d be fine.)

(And then with Sakuma-san as our boss, we’d reform Yumenosaki Academy.)

(I’d have guided him properly—I imagine we would have slaughtered our opponents, purified the school, and transformed it all according to the plot I wrote.)

(But I’ve failed, stumbling over the first step.)

(The worst case scenario… Was if Sakuma-san hadn’t gotten involved, there was a bodyguard near Eichi who’d resolve the situation.)

(Or I could've even called the police. No matter what, Eichi would’ve played the part of a poor victim who was captured by the delinquents.)

(He’s the Tenshouin heir, he could easily get public power to back him up.)

(No matter how long those miscreants tried to defend themselves, it would be futile. We’d have justice on our side, if we asserted it.)

(Even if the reality is that he’s set out a nasty trap, the public would believe the Tenshouin Heir’s argument over any delinquent’s.)

(Even then it’s in the delinquent’s own gathering spot, so if they spread the news that the student council suppressed them in this underground livehouse…)

(We could manipulate the information, and claim that Sakuma-san was at the center of all this.)

(With some minor adjustments here and there, the story here was supposed to unfold according to that plot. It was logical.)

(Was this the kind of plan where if just some minor character did something unexpected, it would all come crashing down?)

(I thought this was the perfect plan, and yet—In the end, this was all just an empty theory, wasn’t it?)

(The hard truth is, this is all beyond my control. Nothing is working out the way I thought it would, not in the slightest.)

Chiaki: ...What’s wrong, Hasumi-kun? You look pale—I could bring you to the nearby hospital, if you’d like?

Tenshouin-kun wasn’t feeling all that great either, so I guess the people in black transported him to the hospital in a hurry…

I guess it’s kind of expected of you model students… You just can’t adapt to the atmosphere of the underground livehouse, can you?

Keito: ? ...Wait, Eichi was brought to the hospital?

Chiaki: It’s just my guess. It was obvious that something odd was going on, so I got kinda worried, and listened to the conversation those people in black were having…

They were having some kind of panic over the phone, like they were trying to get in touch with some hospital.

Keito: (Damn it, I’m a dumbass! Turns out Eichi’s health hadn’t returned to normal, he just pretended to be fine…)

(Initially, Eichi was going to carry on while being hospitalized at this stage…)

(I didn’t think he’d go and do that, so I just went along and incorporated him in my plan. That was my greatest blunder, I was anxious to begin…)

(What a perfect plan that was—I’m a fool.)

Chiaki: W–what’s up? Are you really alright, Hasumi-kun…?

Keito: ...No, I’m fine. I am composed. It’s just that I am shocked at how weak-minded I am.

Chiaki: I see. Well, there’s not much you can do about that. I always get frustrated at myself for how powerless I can be. But really, it’s just because there’s a limit to how much just one person can do.

But even if that’s true, there’s no way you can watch a crisis unfold right before your eyes, and let someone die, without trying to help!

All my life I’ve been a wimp, who’s turned a blind eye to the wickedness in this world… But I’m done running away.

Just like the heroes I admired as a child, I’m going to become an ally of justice.

♪~♪~♪

Keito: (...From start to finish, I had no idea what he was trying to say.)

(I really thought Morisawa was some unremarkable, unoriginal guy. It seems he’s different from the rest of those delinquents.)

Rei: Yep yep. For some reason, we tend to go lumpin’ everyone under one little label, like delinquent. But every human is unique, that’s just what makes ‘em all so interesin’.

Keito: ...Did you just read my mind, Sakuma-san?

Rei: Nah, I can’t use that kinda supernatural power~ And if I could I wouldn’t~

Peekin’ into someone else’s heart sounds like no fun~ That’s like spoilin’ the important part of a story, it’d totally kill half the thrill.

And I know you’re plottin’ all sortsa things up in that head of yours—But don’tcha worry about it, ya don’t gotta share all those lil’ details just ‘cause ya think we’re so close.

I dunno what’s gonna go down yet~ And that’s way more fun.

So keep showin’ me a good time, Bouzu ♪

Keito: ……

Rei: Come now, let’s put that aside. We should start singin’ a lil’ more seriously.

For now, just follow your instincts, ‘cause that's what I did—I stepped in ‘cause it was kinda painful watchin’ this guy singin’ all on his own.

Chiaki: And this guy, that’s me, isn’t it? Thank you, I must admit it was getting pretty rough, so you really saved my life there…

All because you guys sang with me on the spur of the moment, the mood did a complete turnaround.

Let’s enjoy ourselves. Now that we’re on stage, it’s our job as idols to entertain our audience.

But, I’m still too inexperienced to do this well… So I’m in need of your strength, if you’ll lend it.

Rei: Ahaha. Ya sound like a pure-hearted boy shellin’ out his best pickup line~ And I don’t hate that. Hang in there, hang in there boy, We’ll help ya this time ‘round.

We’ll take everyone in here and make ‘em our fans. That’s much better than goin’ around killin’ an’ smashin’ people.

Granted that ya do go and massacre the whole lot of people ya don’t like, ya might just go killin’ yourself after a while ‘cause ya can’t stand the loneliness~

Bouzu. Ya may look down on these guys thinkin’ they’re delinquents, and maybe ya got the wrong idea, thinkin’ that removin’ ‘em would make the world a prettier place~

Don’t be that boring, I beg of ya. Humanity is equal under God—Equally foolish, immoral, brilliant, and lovely.

If this world truly was an ugly hell beyond savin’, God wouldn't have said “let there be light” to begin with~

There’s still much worth seein’, that’s why humanity survived so long without goin’ under.

So let’s show ‘em, everyone. Even God—We’ll show you our way of life.

♪~♪~♪

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#reikeiptls #rei sakuma #Keito Hasumi #chiaki morisawa

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damnslippyplanet · 9 months

Text

Slippy Watches: Only Friends, Episode 2

Previously on Only Friends: What if a group of queer twenty-somethings were extremely messy?

Now on Only Friends:

We’re picking up right where we left off, with Top making his big public microphone “will you be my boyfriend?” proposition to Mew. Mew says yes, Cheum shrieks, and everyone else makes different flavors of “jfc look at THIS asshole” faces, which are delicious.

And now we’re doing…reality-TV-style confessional interviews? This is so fucking charming. I’m charmed. Sand is the MOST correct with his assessment that making a big public scene is embarrassing and stupid. Anyway the point is Top is smug, Yo is pleased that her bar had something nice happen instead of just drunk people fighting each other, and everyone else is varying degrees of “Well, THAT happened.”

Post-credits, the school project about starting a hostel is apparently still happening. Top is roaming around with his design crew doing vague design things while Cheum tries to get Mew to dish about him. Boston elbows his way in to point out to Mew that Top has never kept a boyfriend more than three months because he gets bored.

Mew immediately gets the most evil little gleam of “Hey, that’s interesting” and muses aloud that he’s curious how long Top would stick around if he’s not getting laid. For a second episode in a row he assures his friends that they really don’t need to worry about the state of his virginity, he can handle himself. I’m really enjoying the way Book is playing this character. What is going ON in his pretty little head. Is he secretly an evil sex mastermind. TELL ME YOUR SECRETS, MEW.

Mew heads out to the back yard to find Ray, who is developing a close personal relationship with his flask of booze.

I love the way Mew’s reaction here tells us so succinctly that this is a known bad sign that Ray’s decompensating. I can be really touchy about how alcoholism plotlines are handled so we’ll see how this goes for me but for now I’m appreciating what the show is laying down.

So Mew’s a little worried, Ray is like “don’t worry about ME, you’ve got a BOYFRIEND to worry about now”, but then goes on to say that he just doesn’t want Mew to rush into anything. He thinks someone nice might come along for Mew someday and he doesn’t want Mew to miss it when it happens.

Ugh. It's killing me that for all Ray has this awful crush, he clearly isn’t hinting that he’s the nice someone. He knows he’s not nice. He knows what he doesn’t deserve, or believes he doesn’t deserve.

RAY. YOU CAN DESERVE NICE THINGS, TOO.

They settle the conversation with an “okay, I hope he makes you happy, but please know I will punch him if he mistreats you” and a hug, and then Top wanders in and drags Mew off with a pointed hand-holding because he is not unaware of Ray’s monster crush.

But we do get confirmation here in passing that Cheum has a girlfriend, so yay for her!

*****

Elsewhere, Sand is doing laundry in his apartment building when he bumps into Mark Pakin, who apparently is an old friend. They establish that Sand needs a roommate and Mark Pakin is looking to move out of his tiny apartment. Convenient!

They do not discuss rent or move-in dates or anything, but they do establish how often they each want to be able to bring randos over to bone. Priorities! Mostly this scene is just about Sand’s pitch-perfect deadpan delivery of a warning that he will be fucking just CONSTANTLY and LOUDLY and EVERYWHERE and Mark Pakin’s going to have to live with that.

Mark Pakin doesn’t particularly seem put off by this, but Sand actually was joking, and they decide to be roommates. Good for them!

*****

Mew and Top have gone to play laser tag for their date. Laser tag is approximately the least fun thing in the world for me and even Top admits he only suggested this date so he could corner Mew alone in a dark place and do inappropriate things to him. On the LASER TAG COURSE or field or whatever we call it? Top, my guy, please. There’s black lights in here. Keep it in your pants.

There’s so much terrible innuendo here about moving fast and aiming what you shoot at and on and on. I can’t.

But Mew gets to hang out by a big DANGER sign for a while and that's fun.

Also he makes Top think he might at least get a kiss out of the situation and then fully shoots him with the laser gun and dances off smirking and triumphant.

And then he gets to stop Top from kissing him so that he can explain that he was embarrassed by the public scene at the bar and he’s not going to fuck Top just because he’s hot and rich. He’s not even sure Top is his type. He’s sending Top back to the beginning to try a bit harder to woo him properly and maybe then he’ll decide if he likes him.

Yeah, Mew is either an evil sex mastermind or a sex savant of some sort just coming into his incubus powers. Either way I’m here for it.

Confessional video again! Mew has a checklist for a good partner. His partner needs to: respect him, love and get along with his friends, and not tell lies. That’s all! He’s pretty low maintenance, really! What could go wrong?

*****

Ray apparently goes to school sometimes besides just checking in to attend his business class, as he’s wandering the halls moping about Mew’s Instagram post about his laser tag date. He needs a distraction. And he finds one in the person of Sand, lurking around campus for all the world looking like Your Local Weed Guy, dispensing mysterious items from his bag in exchange for furtively-handed-over cash.

Ray fully lights up with the excitement of having someone to pick on to distract him from his own misery, and follows Sand out to the parking lot to scold him for dealing drugs and vaguely threaten to turn him in for inappropriate behavior on campus.

Sand, perpetually unimpressed, is like, “Okay but there’s a 60/40 chance you’re drunk right now, I’m pretty sure you’re not a threat to me. Go away.” And he tootles off on his motorcycle.

And now it’s nighttime, and Ray pulls up outside a neon-lit club named Roxie. Ray is hot on his heels because if you’re thinking about the annoying guy from the bar you don’t have to think about the other annoying guy who’s trying to bone your crush.

Sand is clearly known and liked at what turns out to be a gogo club full of attractive semi-dressed women pole-dancing, and gets waved on through, while Ray gets stopped for an ID check. And then several of the hot semi-dressed women descend on Ray because they sense a new customer with fresh blood and maybe a full wallet, but he could not possibly be less interested in whatever form of semi-nude dancing he’s being offered. He basically vaults over three of the dancers to follow Sand behind a curtain. It’s all very normal and heterosexual.

Sand is lying in wait for him and wants to know why Ray is following him and why Ray doesn’t have any actual friends he could be bothering instead of being Like This. They scuffle a bit and end up dropping Ray’s bag, which smashes the little bottles of homebrew plum wine he’s apparently selling around town.

Ray was kind of hoping for something more sordid than moonshine. Sand points out angrily that we can’t all be rich boys and he needs money, and then he says something that will haunt Ray, himself, and me for the rest of time:

Fuck. Show, why are you like this.

The rest of this goes the only way it can - Sand tries to charge Ray for the broken wine and before he knows it he’s negotiating the price for Ray to hire him as a drinking buddy for the night.

Sand: we are literally at a strip club, if you want to buy company, go back in there.

Ray: I will give you so much money to be my drinking buddy

*****

It’s so good. There are such good FACES and also LAYERS. Ray is being a rich asshole but he is also being an incredibly lonely guy clinging to the only thing in his line of sight that is even a little distracting from the black hole of destructiveness he’s circling.

Sand is so annoyed and so aware that he needs the money and he’s not UNaffected by the sexy-enemies chemistry.

Extremely “I can’t believe I’m gonna let this guy hire me,” “You don’t have to,” “No I’m gonna” energy here.

Meanwhile! Boston and Mark Pakin are making out up against a wall under a giant horned antelope kind of deal. It’s very Hannibal.

So Boston sort of chucks Mark Pakin on the bed, which I guess means…is this where Boston lives? He doesn’t strike me as someone who lives in Hannibal skulls-everywhere splendor. But I have no time to think about this because I’m busy watching Boston just absolutely maul and rail Mark Pakin. Bless.

He then immediately rolls out of bed to get dressed despite how absolutely cute Mark Pakin is being, but does offer to take some sexy photos because he has some film left in his camera and *truly* Mark is being very attractive right now.

Mark’s not the most into pictures but he wants as much of Boston’s attention as he can get and also is fully melted by Boston switching into more-intimate-pronoun gear with him and telling him that he only takes photos of his favorite hookups.

Oh no, this FACE. Mark is going to get his life ruined and his heart broken and I’m so sad for him.

Mark does want to see the photos immediately and to decide whether Boston can keep them, so they head into Boston’s darkroom. Which he has in his house. Okay, I take it back, if he has a darkroom he is also a guy who would have skull displays. Probably somewhere in this house is a harpsichord.

So they have a little chat while the film develops about how they both would like to be doing creative things but are instead going to be working in the family businesses. Boston is doing casual post-hookup chitchat but Mark Pakin is fully heart-eyes “we are BONDING”, oh god, it’s like watching the lead-up to a car crash.

But the photo is done and it’s good and sexy, and Mark Pakin abashedly admits that he hates to have his photo taken because as a kid he had really curly hair and everyone made fun of him, and he doesn’t think he’s cute. Boston pats him on the cheek and tells him he wouldn’t have hooked up with him a second time if he weren’t cute. Augh.

*****

Neo is doing such good work in this show but I want to shake his character by the collar.

Speaking of careless rich boys, Ray and Sand have arrived at Ray’s big fancy house to drink the plum wine, which Ray thinks is not bad. A lukewarm endorsement. He drags Sand off to the other room to drink better booze and listen to records, because this was never about the plum wine, it was about being the center of someone’s attention even if he had to buy his way there. Ugh. UGH.

Sand tries to have a normal conversation about the record collection and instantly finds himself in over his head with the discovery that the records were Ray’s dead mom’s.

What if there were a beautiful and terrible boy who bought your attention and then looked at you as if he were drowning and you might be the only thing that could pull him out of the water. What then?

Well, then you might tell him very sincerely that you were sorry for his loss, steer the conversation away from the deep waters, and start making uncomfortable jokes.

And then the beautiful terrible boy might tell you that he just wants you to sit and drink and listen to music with him, because he’s tired of being alone. And you might just stare, and drink, and wonder what you were getting yourself into.

*****

And now, for a complete tonal shift, it’s the next day and Mew and Top and Boston and Cheum and Cheum’s girlfriend April and Ray are, uh. Wakeboarding? I think? I don’t know. Some sort of waterskiing-esque sport involving shirtlessness and being wet.

The point here is that during this wet-boys-doing-sports montage, every time Top and Mew cheer each other on, Boston and Ray continue to make hilariously bitchy faces about their respective crushes. The grapes are SO sour, even though every time someone refers to Top as Mew’s boyfriend Mew clarifies that they are *not* boyfriends, he’s declared a restart to their whole situation.

Also, Boston cannot stop eyefucking Top’s bare torso and Top isn’t exactly unaware, or mad about it.

Cheum falls off her wakeboard and hurts her ankle, and Top pulls her out of the water and fusses around getting her an icepack.

Mew, in his confessional with his little checklist, checks off “loves and respects my friends.”

Apparently the first time they hooked up was in a photo booth (...really?) and the shower stall is reminiscent enough to get Top horny enough to at least consider a re-enactment.

While everyone else sits around having drinks and resting Cheum’s ankle, Top heads off to the showers and Boston follows him. Like, really follows him right into the shower stall to see if Top might be convinced to change his mind about fucking again.

*****

Alas for Boston, just as he’s getting somewhere, Mew appears in the changing room. But by the time he gets to the showers, the boys have scrambled and Top is all alone in his stall, ready to flirt with Mew while Boston hides in the next stall over. Left unclear: Did Boston manage to rescue his swim trunks during the scramble or were they still lying around where Mew could see them?

HM.

So we’re back at Mew’s putting together furniture, which is unironically my idea of a great date. Furniture assembly >> wakeboarding or laser tag.

Mew: I brought you cookies to eat while you build this table for me!

Top: I think you should hand-feed me, I’m so tired from all this table building.

Mew, some sort of virgin sex maniac: New offer: I hold the cookie between my teeth and you bite half of it out of my mouth.

Top: *horny AWOOGA noises like a cartoon character*

Top promptly eats the cookie out of Mew’s mouth and rolls half on top of him in the process.

I’m shocked these aren’t product-placed cookies, this could have rivalled the Kinnporsche sex bread if only the Manager of Thai BL Product Placement had been allowed to work on this scene.

Top tries to go in for a kiss but apparently Mew’s boundaries are currently “you may eat cookies out of my mouth, but no kissing.” Sure! Fine! We love a boundary-holding king.

Top then tries to bargain for another chaste cuddling night in Mew’s bed, but is relegated to the couch. This is so good for me.

*****

Meanwhile: Boston and Mark Pakin, who I’ve actually decided I’m willing to refer to as Nick now because I’m so worried about his fragile little heart, are back in bed. Or no, actually they’re lying next to each other on the floor jerking off together.

Oh. Oh no. Nick tries to start a Defining The Relationship conversation but Boston is fully still fuck-drunk and barely processing this. But he gets it together for…okay. So. You know how sometimes advice about dealing with little kids is about giving them two choices that are both acceptable so they don’t clamor for the third thing you don’t want them to have? That’s fully what happens here. Boston does not want to have the “let’s be boyfriends” conversation so instead he steers very smoothly into a conversation about how they could be EITHER fuck buddies OR friends with benefits, each of which comes with some different terms about how much they hang out when not fucking, and Nick can pick which one he wants!

Or, if Nick is developing actual feelings, they should stop because Boston does not DO feelings or drama. (Boston is a liar. What is drama if not climbing naked into your friend’s semi-boyfriend’s shower stall to try to give him a semi-consensual handjob?)

Nick backpedals as fast as he can to reassure Boston that he doesn’t have FEELINGS, yuck, he was just CURIOUS, so they can keep on being fuck buddies.

Augh. The problem with a show for, by, and about messy queers is it’s so RECOGNIZABLY REALISTIC about the ways people make terrible choices.

*****

SPEAKING OF, Sand is wrapping up a night at YOLO, where he has met a probably perfectly nice young woman named Amm and they’re getting ready to go back to his place for drinks and to see his new monstera. Because he doesn’t have a cat so he has to invite women back to his place by offering to show them his houseplant. Perfect. No notes. I lured my current partner up to my room twenty years ago by offering to show him my housemate’s ferrets so I can’t throw stones at anyone else’s glass house here.

The monstera line is on the verge of working when Ray materializes, wide-eyed with glee at the discovery that Sand has PICKED SOMEONE UP and is trying to GET LAID. He immediately inserts himself into the proceedings by suggesting they both come back to *his* place where the booze and records are better than at Sand’s and there’s a pool.

Oh my god, Ray, you can’t just invite yourself into someone else’s one night stand.

Except Ray thinks maybe he can, at least if he’s willing to give Sand even more money than he did the previous night.

Sand points out that Ray fully passed out drunk last night and didn’t even notice him leaving, what on earth does he want a reprise of that for?

Well. Ray is lonely and horny and pretty pretty please won’t Sand come over and be his paid friend?

So: Sand drives Ray home, and Ray is having SO much fun being a gleeful pest about being chosen over Amm, and questioning Sand about whether as a bar singer he gets picked up a lot, and singing along with the radio. Sand would like to be more annoyed by this than he is, but it’s hard not to be charmed, and he absolutely is reluctantly charmed.

Sand stares at him for a minute and then informs the girl that sorry, he has to take care of his drunk friend. He does NOT invite her to the pool party. RIP Amm, I’m sure you’re lovely but who can compete with Khaotung saying please so sweetly?

*****

At Mew’s place, Top is tossing and turning on the couch. Yes, he DOES have That One Thai BL Gridded-Print Blanket. He gives up and fetches a pill bottle from his shirt and starts popping pills, which is when Mew wanders out in to the living room and wants to know what the pill situation is about.

Apparently it’s the designated episode for tragic backstory, because Top’s story is that he has insomnia and can’t sleep well alone. He’s got PTSD from surviving a late-night house fire as a kid and falling asleep alone sets it off. But he’s seeing a doctor about it, he’s got the meds, it’s fine! He’s fine!

Mew is a li’l skeptical but also thinks all of this honesty deserves a reward, and offers to sleep next to Top after all. Aww.

There is absolutely no reason for them to squeeze onto the couch instead of going back to Mew’s bedroom together, but that is what they do. Mew reminds Top that they are definitely just going to hug and nothing more, Top agrees, and in the confessional video Mew checks “respects me” off his boyfriend checklist.

*****

Darkroom time for Boston again. This time he’s developing photos from the wakeboarding hangout. He lingers over one of the photos of two people but I can’t honestly tell which two it is. It...might be him and Mew? Or Ray and Mew? Unclear. This is mostly just Boston’s contractual one scene where he’s not actively fucking.

*****

Okay, so from now until the end of the episode I am doing feral howling at the moon. Let’s just establish that now so I don’t have to go on about it.

Ray is serving up the good booze back at his place, and Sand is once again poking gingerly around the edges of Ray’s damage - where are his friends from the bar? The guy with the glasses? Ray grumps about his friends being in RELATIONSHIPS.

Sand pokes him one more time about being a sad rich boy who needs new friends but then softens and declares that he’ll be Ray’s friend if he needs one that badly. No hiring needed. They could just…actually be friends.

And now we are once again on a path they’ve set themselves on and couldn’t get out of if they tried, circling around each other and what exactly it is that they want from each other. What *is* Sand’s type? Why *does* Ray’s description of what he wants in a friend sound like he wants a dad? By the way, uh, does Sand’s type ever include men?

(It does. It does sometimes include men. Sand is more vibes-based than gender-based in his attractions. Ray circles a little closer and asks wordlessly for another chance at having Sand light a cigarette for him. Sand lights him up off his own cigarette. We're past the intimacy of a lighter flame and into something else here.)

Sand pauses to draw a neat little line - he isn’t *actually* willing to let Ray hire him for sex even if they’re both enjoying the frisson of considering it. When he fucks people, he does it because he wants to. For free.

And then they’re very abruptly at the still center of all the circling, and all the questions have been asked, and there’s nothing left to do but kiss about it. Or, well, something messy, halfway between shotgunning and a kiss.

Sometimes friendship starts like this, Ray says, and Sand stubs out his cigarette and draws one last desperate “okay but we are DEFINITELY not going to develop feelings about this” line and flings himself across it like an absolute fool.

*****

Shirts come off. Tattoos get kissed. What if an awful beautiful boy who could have anything decided that what he wanted was you.

Final round of confessionals.

Ray, extremely cheerful: Mixing sex and friendships doesn’t have to get weird at all! Hearts and dicks are totally different things! It’s fine!

Sand, completely aware that he’s making some real Choices here: I mean, sure. It can be fine! If you don’t catch The Feelings.

And then he sort of dissociates lightly for a while, so we can cut back to Ray climbing into Sand’s lap so they can have some absolutely strings-free sex that will not involve feelings in any way.

First and Khaotung’s faces should be illegal. That is my final thought on this episode.

#slippy watches things #only friends recap

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transmutationisms · 2 years

Note

Cam you’re so good at all the motifs, what’s your take on “we’ll have you doing the mail, keep you rattling around” delivered in that awful affectionate voice (and the mirror scene with the ShivRome secretary bit)

okay yes i do have thoughts on this thank you...

so first of all, the other parallel, to me, is in 3x04 when connor brings up shiv's childhood 'post office':

CONNOR: Remember... remember when you had that, uh, play post office? And you used to stamp all the mail that came into the house?

SHIV: Yeah.

CONNOR: This is a little bit like that. Isn't it, Shiv?

so there's this running thing where shiv and kendall specifically are Number One Boy and Daddy's Girl, but they're also relegated to these secretarial roles, and "doing the mail" is sort of representing that whole thing. you're nearby, but you're invisible. you're demeaned by how pointless and insignificant your work is. and logan is rhetorically relegating kendall to the exact role that shiv has been trying to outgrow since childhood.

it's also very interesting in this sense that it's roman (at the beginning of 3x08) and connor (in 3x04) who are the ones reminding shiv of this secretarial/post office role. roman and connor are usually the cast-offs, the useless brothers, the clowns. but here they're acting very much like logan, reinforced when he delivers the "doing the mail" line to kendall at the middle of 3x08.

it's a rare moment where roman perceives himself as being on top, AND connor has some leverage. people talk about the shiv-logan parallels in 3x08 and i do think they're important. but so is this temporary roman-logan parallelism-alliance that's happening.

BUT ALSO. @tomcatwambsgans pointed this out to me, and it's been rotating in my mind ever since: 'chiantishire' is a fascinating episode in that it's packed with these moments where there are these breaches in reality: things that are true but are supposed to be unspoken, and they're said out loud, and it's like the whole world is fracturing. (and this is foreshadowed by billy joel 'honesty' in 3x07.)

so the most obvious example is caroline admitting she didn't want kids. we've had this hinted at before, but like... a mother rejecting the maternal role so openly is, like, tearing a hole in the social fabric. then there's shiv telling tom she doesn't love him.*** matsson "tweeting unverifiable information outside normal disclosure channels". roman sending the dick pic to logan by mistake. logan using iverson as a poison tester. kendall ultimately trying to (physically, literally) break through reality by passively attempting suicide.

all of these things are so destabilising they more or less have to be undone: shiv trying to take back her words the next day, logan trying to get roman to demonstrate normative attraction to kerry, etc. (caroline's betrayal of the kids is the exception here, and also why it's so devastating yet ultimately so satisfying as a season finale.) so 3x08 is in some ways the truest episode of succession, and also the most terrifying for the characters.

so like, reading the logan-kendall dinner in that context, i do think that the affection in logan's voice is true, in his twisted way. i think he loves his kids, i think he loves kendall, i think he really does want him nearby. it's an incredibly harmful and awful and demeaning love, but i think he's genuinely admitting something here. he wants kendall close, and it's painful for him to consider actually losing him.

and that's also fucking devastating for kendall, who has finally. finally. gotten to a point where he can admit he Does want out. he wants freedom, because "we can't do this bullshit forever." for him, that's the breach in reality, admitting that he needs an escape. and he thinks the most awful thing logan can say to him is "yes, i hate you, i want you to leave" but it turns out there's another breach, and it's logan admitting that he loves him. so the truly awful thing logan says, actually, is "no, i love you, i want you to stay".

which means that for kendall, he thinks he’s come to this grand fucking revelation: this needs to end. i’m willing to walk away from the glory, from being the heir apparent. i’m doing what we both need, finally, and we can end this tortured thing between us. and then logan completely undercuts it, prevents kendall from reaching any sort of self-actualisation, and that’s what drives kendall to the semi-suicide attempt. there’s no escape, he’s always going to be the little mailman, and he can’t lie to himself anymore because logan’s finally said it out loud. so there’s nothing for kendall to do but lie down in the water and wait for it to go away.

just... that fucking dinner. it's the one time kendall's not asking for love, and yet he's receiving it, and it’s only to fucking destroy him.

*** i'm not arbitrating whether or not this is true with a capital T. but it's what she's feeling in some sense, and also something she's not supposed to say. so it belongs on this list imo

#the morality arbitration in the dinner scene is also relevant imo but this is too long already lmao #also by breach in reality i Do mean lacan but.. again this is already too long #and also thanks ezra for your big brain <3

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