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quinloki · 11 months

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period sex and aftercare and /BUGGY/ are so big brained can i ask for those two plus dacryphilia with buggy and croco-baby and maybe a secret third character (your choice) if you feel up to it!!! Thank yooouuu!!! :o)

Alright, I got ONE MORE KINK ASK after this and I'll be all done with them \o/ Holy shit I can't believe how many asks I got for this (And how much fun I've had dealing with them.)

It helps a lot that I love kinks, kinky people, one piece characters, and learning/educating >.>

Alright we got Period Sex, Aftercare, Dacryphilia (the crying kink) - For Buggy and Sir Crocodile - and since you called him Croco-baby I'll add Donquixote Doflamingo to this.

I am surprised with as often as I feel like I've seen the crying kink pop up that I haven't already done it for ANY of these guy =O

And also yay \o/ AFTERCARE ASK \lol/

Go go alphabetical!

Buggy:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - It's messy, it's red, it's kind of flashy actually, and Buggy loves it. You don't grow up on the most famous pirate ship in the world without being comfortable with all sorts of things. I feel like everyone under Roger's flag was, we'll say educated, and as such I can't see anyone from that crew being put off by menstruation.

Plus, orgasms are a cure for some, and there's one way to find out if it works for you to alleviate any cramping you may be feeling. You're going to be a complete mess by the time it's done though, Buggy's a little blood-lusty, surprisingly maybe, but he gets feral, and more so than with lipstick or makeup, he loves to "mark" you.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - He is a terribly stressed clown, but I also think he's a big damned softie too. Buggy really is just as comfortable brushing your hair as he is ordering the crew around. Maybe more so, honestly. All that hair he has though, and that makeup he wears, the man's skin and hair care routines are on point as much as his eyeliner game. He will take care of you after every session, even if he subbing or bottoming some of it.

I think Buggy's desire to serve is almost as strong as Sanji's honestly. If you're an important person to him, he doesn't want to let you down, and he will devour your praises. But he's also The Captain™, and no matter what his role was, he's going to provide you proper aftercare.

Dacryphilia - No. - Sure sometimes tears happen. Sometimes you're so overwhelmed they slip out, sometimes you are chocking on the impressive package this man has. Sometimes tears happen, but Buggy doesn't like tears. He doesn't want to see you cry. If your makeup smears he wants it to be cause of sweat and pleasure and touch, not because you're crying. He's not even good at handling happy tears, let alone any other kind.

Buggy's more of let-him-do-the-crying-for-both-of-you type. He'd happily be the only one stressed to the ends of his capacity, than to have you worry. (Which probably worries you xD it's a bit of a cycle like that).

Sir Crocodile:

Period Sex - Yes - He doesn't mind the mess. The cause doesn't bother him. The only reason it doesn't rate higher is because it's hard to know if your period will heighten your pleasure or your pain - that lack of control bothers him, no matter how well or fast he can adjust accordingly.

He also doesn't see it as marking you the same way some others do. It's your blood, not his. It has a scent that isn't his or his cigars. If anything it's an annoyance because you should smell like him, and you shouldn't ever be hurt enough to smell like blood. You shouldn't be close enough to violence to even know what blood smells like, at least as far as he's concerned. But he'll soothe your cramps and discomfort in any way he can when it's that time.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - As said before, Crocodile is all about control, and aftercare is required for control. You don't want to leave your little bottom/sub spiraling with all sorts of thoughts on their own. Whether we're talking toxic AU or not. Aside from the control though, he enjoys it. It's time to bond, to discuss, to connect. The more he knows about you the more control he can exert.

The more control you can hand over.

Plus, as beautiful as you are in his clutches, you're just as beautiful in his care.

Dacryphilia - FUCK Yes - Oh please cry for him. Sob in terror or pleasure or pain, he's not picky. Your face in tears is as lovely as your face contorted in pleasure. The only requirement is that those tears are his fault. No one else is allowed to make you cry.

As much as he will pull tears from you - and most sobs of pleasure as long as you're good - he'll kiss them away so sweetly. Brushing them aside so kindly, and with such praise.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - Not only is it a mess, it's a bloody mess. Doffy's a bit twisted and I can see him actually smearing the mess all over you while he's taking a break between railing you. He's not doing it so much to mark you, as he is to almost degrade you. He'll tell you how dirty you are, covered in blood and cum and tears - he 100% gets into degrading you during it.

Sometimes being on your period can make you more sensitive to pleasure, and sometimes it makes you more sensitive to pain - it doesn't matter as far as he's concerned. He'll get his pleasure at the least, and he'll enjoy turning you into a mess in the meantime.

Aftercare - Yes - Unless he's truly into you, don't take this as some kind of kindness. Aftercare is a good time to learn and bond, and for Doffy that generally means it's a great time to reinforce all his manipulations. It lets you think he cares (again, *maybe* he does), and pulls you closer into his grasp.

A truly skilled puppeteer doesn't necessarily hide the strings, he just makes sure you don't pay attention to them when you should be >.>

Dacryphilia - Oh god you don't even know - Cry for him, please. Crumble to pieces in pleasure, fear or pain - whatever it may be that you've earned at the point in time. If you're overwhelmed in pleasure he'll promise you such sweetness and devotion. If you're overwhelmed with fear he'll admonish you softly and forgive you magnanimously. If pain stains your face he'll have you begging for forgiveness, a forgiveness he'll bestow on you when he feels like it.

Perhaps after you've gone raw and hoarse from tears and begging.

Much like others who enjoy making their partners cry, it is a pleasure reserved entirely for him and no one else. Members of his immediate family may get an understanding pass, circumstances depending, but anyone beyond that is likely to be dealt with swiftly.

#kinky one piece head canon #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #x reader #buggy x reader #sir crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader

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yandereworlds · 2 years

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It’s been a long day. || {YANDERE!BUTCHER X READER}

hey everyone! this is dae-hyun’s intro, i hope you guys like it! not a lot of yandere-like behavior {yet} since it’s just the introduction, but i hope it’s interesting anyway LOL

here’s dae-hyun’s bio :3

https://at.tumblr.com/yandereworlds/meet-dae-hyun-hes-korean-american-and-works-as-a/r8aisxxkhw4h

“Mama, this place smells funny..”

“I know honey, but we’re almost done, okay?” The woman smiled at the child, giving a small laugh to the boy plugging his nose shut with his tiny hands, coiling up into his jacket. The scent of blood, steel and raw meats can be very overwhelming, so nobody could blame him, especially with the loud whirring above them on the ceiling and cases below them. Places like this had a horrendous smell to them and were less cost efficient, you could at least guarantee higher quality products than the average supermarket. It wasn’t dirty here or anything, but the entire aesthetic felt more visceral and gross to most people, but that’s a small price to pay for what they had available.

Crouching down to his level, manicured fingers gently rested on his shoulder, her free hand pointing across the pathway towards the opposite end of the front desk to a small wooden display. “Why don’t you pick a snack from that counter over there?” The boy immediately smiled, hands still covering his nose.

“Okay, mama!”

“Get something for your brother too, he probably wants one of those meat and cheese things.”

The child rushed towards the counter, taking in everything there was to offer; which actually wasn’t a lot. Various meat type snacks were obvious choices, and a few packaged treats such as small muffins, sweet rolls and some generic candy options. As the boy looked for something he wanted, his mother studied the meat display-case, her hand over her mouth in thought. Brushing some blonde locks out of her face, the woman looked up at the man behind the counter, who had just finished wrapping up the last item she chose. She was unable to look him in the eye though. That was normal from customers though.

“I think I’m gonna get some sirloin too..”

“How much?”

It almost sounded like a demand, rather than a question. His voice was low, and gruff. He sounded like he was threatening people half the time he spoke, even if he didn’t mean to. Put off again by his tone, the woman’s eyes flickered away in anxiousness. She didn’t wanna be here any longer than she needed to, just being in this man’s presence made her feel uneasy. At least he hadn’t shown any signs of aggression, but it was the way he looked at everything. The guy looked like a gang member. She chalked it up to maybe he was just having a bad day, and that the sooner she was out of his way he’d feel better. And she’d feel better.

“Uh, I’m thinking.. twenty ounces.”

With no response, the male takes a few slabs of the meat to weigh it. Little green electronic numbers flashed on the screen above the scale counting it in pounds, soon enough getting to a pound and quarter-pound. Satisfied, the man began wrapping the beef into kraft paper, closing it tightly to ensure the meat would not be contaminated or spoiled. His clear gloves had a little smearing of blood and juice on it, his eyes solely focused on his hands as he worked, never even giving the mother a second glance. In her mind, she never could understand how someone can be just so comfortable touching raw meat. Yeah, she had to when she cooked, but even then she felt it was kind of gross. She couldn’t imagine having a career solely on handling them. It was creepy how unbothered and distant he looked while packaging it. Taking aluminum foil, he finalized his work with one final layer around the raw meat and paper. Once everything was wrapped, he slipped all the different meats into a brown paper bag, the sounds of pitter-patter coming closer.

“I got snacks, mama!”

“Good job, sweetheart! Put it up on the countertop!”

The child set down two snacks; a meat-n-cheese stick combo, and some gummy bears. Taking off the rubber gloves before dropping them into the wastebasket by his feet, he used some sanitizer and rubbed them between his calloused hands without a word. The air was a bit awkward, the silence causing more awkward tension for the mother and her child to the point the boy used one of his hands to grab ahold of hers, still plugging his nose with the other. The man noticed this, but brushed it off. Grabbing the two items, he punched them into the register in front of him, along with the sirloin and other meats. Once complete, he pressed enter and the total came up on the small electronic screen on the -honestly outdated- machine for checkout. He pushed the snacks towards the edge of the countertop, gesturing for the child to grab them again, before looking back at the woman.

“Total is thirty-one dollars and sixty cents. You can round up to thirty-two if you wish to donate to our Paradise fund. It gives extra money to our local farmers to provide for their animals to ensure they live healthier lives.”

“Sure thing..!” Her voice sounded like she was holding her breath, giving a weak smile.

The blonde reached into her designer purse, digging around for her wallet as her son grabbed at the snacks again. Little brown eyes looked up at the taller male, who was well over twice his size. The man looked down at the child, the natural scowl on his face making the boy shrink back into his mother’s side, gripping onto her jacket. He didn’t mean to scare the kid, but he just couldn’t help how he looked. It’s not like he could just change his face. Though, he really wished he could. When cash was set on the counter, her thin hands immediately coiled back, as if he’d grab her if she lingered too long. Pulling the drawer open more, the man slipped the money into the machine, clicking some more keys until a receipt started coming out of the slot. Ripping it out, he set it inside the bag, wrapping the top in on itself to make a stronger hold than the actual handles, gesturing it towards her with his hand on the bottom of the bag to avoid breakage. The mom took the paper bag from him, almost cringing from how rough his hands felt. Using her free hand, she grabbed onto her child’s small one, making him whine from the smell now being able to reach his nose.

“Have a good rest of your night, ma’am.”

“You too..” She turned, looking down at her son as her smile changed from nervous to actual happiness. “Let’s go, honey. When we get home, do you wanna help mommy prepare dinner too?”

“Yeah! We’re having sgetti right?”

Their voices began to fade as they exited the door, the little bell ringing overhead. “Yep! We’re gonna be making spaghetti. You’re gonna help mama with..-” Her voice disappeared from the room, him watching as she walked into the small parking lot towards her car. It was dark out, she should really be more careful when it’s just her and her kid. Cruel people could take advantage of that. At least he knew they’d be safe on their way out, but nobody really comes by in later hours anyway. But seeing that woman and her son made her think back to his own childhood. Walking towards the snacks counter, he began mindlessly cleaning up after the kid’s aftermath of rummaging. The man knew kids were messy, he understood that, so he couldn’t be mad at him. Plus, it was an easy clean. Nothing to get worked up over, unlike what he saw from employees in other establishments. They’d freak out over the smallest thing, at just a child. He didn’t understand how grown adults could be so frustrated over something like that, especially if the kid didn’t mean to be. His parents never treated him like that.

When did he go out last with his own mother for errands like that? Dae-Hyun couldn’t remember. She died a decade ago by now, but he did remember going on little ‘adventures’ with her. He missed that. He missed when his mom would help him work in the shop, teaching him with a smile on her face. He brushed some black hair out of his eyes.

At least that little boy was still able to do things with his own mother, the man was glad he hadn’t gone through that loss, especially this early in his life.

Now that he thought of it, after his mom died he never really went out after that. His dad didn’t have the energy or enthusiasm to go out like he did when his mom was alive. Both of them took it pretty hard, so it made sense they weren’t as spontaneous without her. Not to mention, his father wasn’t one to be spontaneous on his own at all really, it was mostly his mom giving them something to do or somewhere to go. Dae-Hyun wasn’t really either, he mostly took after his dad. His dad could barely even keep running the butchery after a few years with her gone, let alone go out. He’d stop showing up as much for work, and would hire people to run it until his son was old enough to take over the family business, and by the time Dae-Hyun could run it all on his own, his dad had stopped showing up at all. He turned everything in his son’s name, living off the profit made from the years prior. His father was lucky though. If he hadn’t promised his mother to continue the business, he would have probably turned down the offer. Yeah, his dad would want Dae-Hyun to keep the family line, but it’s not like he could force him in the end. Dae-Hyun was -in his mothers words-, her ‘little baby butcher’; he’d feel guilty if he let it go. At least the job was fairly easy once he learned the skills, easy money without risk of being fired.

As his thoughts continued to spiral into different directions of his family, he absentmindedly began wiping down the counters. A lot of the time, Dae-Hyun was on auto-pilot, not really putting a lot of thought into what he did, just went through the motions. His extended family was worried about him, but he didn’t mind living this way. Or well, at least he thought. He did what he needed to, and that was life. He’d been doing it for years, and he turned out fine for the most part. He began to wonder how life would have been different if his mom had been around. The black-haired man stared blankly down at the countertop, spraying then rubbing with the rag. He didn’t bother checking the time, or the door. Nobody showed up this late, he had about thirty minutes until he’d close. The only time it would be busy this late is during the holiday season, and it was the middle of May.

Then, a little bell rang.

“Hello!”

A little shocked, Dae-Hyun lifted his head, meeting eyes with another customer. He didn’t recognize them. Well, that was new.

“Sorry I’m here so late in the day, but I heard you’d be slower during the night. You’re not closing yet, right? I read on the website you close at ten?”

“Uh..” He blinked a few times quietly, still looking all too intimidating. “Yeah, we’re still open.”

The person gave a relieved sigh, their hand resting on top of their chest. “Good, I was worried.” They gave a gentle laugh, smiling up at him as they approached the counter. “I’ll be quick, okay? I just need to get a few things.”

Dae-Hyun wasn’t used to such gleeful interaction, feeling almost a little off-put by it. “Take your time. You still have a little while.” His scowl remained the same, taking his spray bottle and rag into the drawer, reaching towards the sanitizer again. Giving himself a little to rub between his hands, the other nodded and went off to look around. The male snuck another glance at the customer, trying to get a read on them. They’re definitely new to the shop, he hadn’t seen them before. He watched as they picked an item from the shelf and eyed it. They didn’t look like the type to steal, they wore pretty decently priced clothes and looked well-presented, and their overall stature didn’t imply they were the thieving type. They were pretty cute honestly. Not that it really mattered though.

“Y’know, I’ve heard good things about this place.” The sudden voice startled Dae-Hyun, quickly looking away so that they didn’t realize he had been staring at them, unintentionally warding them off. “I read online that this was a family thing?”

The man nodded, resting his hands on the counter. “Yes, it started as my grandfathers.”

The person smiled again, still holding the item in their hand, a sauce bottle. “That’s so cool!” Walking towards the front, their {E/C} eyes met with his deep brown ones. They weren’t looking away, what was up with them? “But..” They gestured at the emptiness behind him, “Are you the only one who works here..?” The man nodded silently, almost looking away from the eye contact himself. It was a weird feeling. They frowned, setting the bottle on top. “Don’t you get lonely?”

Now that was an unexpected question. Most people just got what they needed and left, and any small talk was usually to cut tension, not actively start a conversation. They didn’t seriously worry if a guy like him was lonely, right? His scowl softened a little, tilting his head to the side. He actually felt.. more focused right now. Mostly intrigued by the approach.

“I mean..” He paused, he did feel lonely. But just saying ‘yes’ felt a little undeserved on their end, afterall; they did make the effort to actually converse with him. He kind of felt like he owed more than that. “Yes, but it’s not anything I can’t handle.” He pulled out a brown bag from under the countertop before opening it and setting it down, then pulling out a pair of clear gloves. “Have you decided what you’d like?” Did he always sound this mean? He never really considered it before, why did he only really notice it now? No wonder people looked at him funny. It’s not like he was unaware of how he sounded, but it never really caught his full attention.

“Oh..! Uhm..” They looked down at the glass display, reading off what they wanted. “I was thinking.. Ten pounds ground beef, and just a pound of boneless ribeye.” They pointed at the steak within the case, nodding. “Yep, that’s the one.”

Dae-Hyun nodded, quietly opening the casket. Pulling out the tray of ground beef, he wrapped it in some extra protective layers, setting it inside the bag before grabbing the ribeye. Watching as the man worked, {Y/N} looked up at him. They pursued their lips for a moment, before giving a small laugh. “Y’know, you’re not as scary as I heard you were.”

That caught his attention. He turned a little, meeting eyes with them with a startled look, letting out a quiet ‘what’.

“Yeah, a bunch of my friends said you had the best meat products but that you were absolutely terrifying.” They let out another playful scoff with a slight shrug, “I mean, I can see why they’d think that, a big hulky guy carrying around bloody meats and cleavers” they leaned over the counter, “But.. I don’t know, you don’t seem all that scary to me.” Being told that he was lonely, made {Y/N} feel a little sympathy for him. That answer alone made him feel a lot more human than what the other people in town said about him. {Y/N} liked to think they’re a lot less judgy than their peers, and wanted to come see for themselves if ‘the scary butcher guy’ was as terrifying as they heard.

Unaware to even respond, Dae-Hyun felt a little pang in his chest. He just.. stared at them. He could feel a little warmth spread across his face, almost sweating. That felt.. Good, but also very intimidating. Intimidating? Since when was he the intimidated one? It felt.. almost terrifying. Catching himself in his trance, the man quickly looked back to the scale, trying to fixate his eyes on it and not retreat back to the customer, muttering an apology. He nodded. “Th.. Thank you.” He swallowed, mind a little aflutter from the comment, almost missing the scale’s number. This was so odd, he’s barely even met this person and he’s already feeling a little anxious. And that smile on their face.. When did he last see someone smile so genuinely at him like that? While wrapping the meat, he snuck a glance at them, noticing they were already reaching into their bag to pull out their wallet. He carefully put the steak into the bag, taking off his gloves and sanitizing again. He really used it too much, it certainly didn’t help the callousness of his hands. Typing away at the register, as {Y/N} tossed a sweet roll on the counter top. He must have been too in his head to even realize they walked over there. Punching in the extra numbers, he turned to them, noticing the debit card in their hand.

“Uh..” He paused, “We only take cash..”

“Oh! Sorry!” They stuffed the card back, giving an awkward laugh as they looked at the numbers on the screen. Twenty-two dollars, and thirty-seven cents. Pulling out a small wad of cash, they cursed under their breath. “Shit, I don’t have enough right now. Can I put the roll back? Sorry again..” They gave an apologetic smile, scratching their neck.

Giving a little thought, Dae-Hyun sighed. “It’s fine, the roll is on me. Just give me what you have.”

Looking a bit taken back, a brighter smile soon spread across their face. “Really..!?” They handed over the money to his hand, grinning wide. “Thank you..! That’s so sweet of you!” Sweet? He never heard that word to describe him before. But he also hadn’t offered free merchandise before. Slipping all the money into the drawer, a receipt popped out before he tore it and put it in the paper bag. Rolling it, he pressed his hand under as he passed it off, letting them grab the roll with their free hand. Laughing to themselves, {Y/N} adjusted their grip. “See, they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

They hadn’t made a whole lot of conversation, mostly because he didn’t really allow a whole lot of room for any, but he couldn’t deny it felt kinda good to have someone talk to him like a person for once. And hearing this person defend him almost made him feel.. Happy. It clearly wasn’t everyday someone described him so positively. He almost didn’t want them to leave. Getting out of his thoughts again, he realized the customer already made it to the door.

“Thank you again! Have a great night!”

Before he could even respond, they were already out the door. He stared at the glass from afar, his chapped lips parting a little. He muttered a small ‘you too’ under his breath. His mind was a little blank now, just standing alone. Dae-Hyun wondered if, or when they’d be back again. They didn’t seem to be scared off or anything.. Then he realized something.

He never even caught their name.

#//mun rose #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yanderecore #male yandere #oc #dae-hyun #yancore #obsession #not a lot of like 'yandere' behavior shown here bc its jus his intro but ykkkk lawl #mun rose writing #mun kiki art

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mustachrryluvr · 2 years

Text

Broccoli

Jack Chambers one shot

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: smut, spanking, slight degradation, roughness

“Don’t worry, darling,” Jack responded while popping open the microwave and pulling out the package he had placed in it earlier to cook, “We still have broccoli.”

“Darling?”

Jack’s voice ringed through their home as he entered through the front door, coming home from a long day at work.

Jack had been working a lot lately. He had just been promoted at work and wanted to prove to his boss that he was worthy of the higher ranking, so he had been spending an ungodly amount of hours at the office.

Y/N was currently in between jobs after coming to the realization that her job was ruining her. She was a shell of a person whenever she would come home from her receptionist job at a local law firm and Jack couldn’t stand to see her that way. So, with him getting promoted, they knew they would still be financially stable if Y/N took a step away from working for a bit to get her mental health under control.

With having all this time on her hands now, Y/N had gotten back into some old hobbies to fill up her days. Drawing and painting had always been a love of Y/N’s. That was one of the things Jack had initially fell in love with, her passion for the things she loved. The day he came home from work to her in their spare room to find that she had filled it with brand new canvases and a multitude of paints, he knew that she was settling back into herself again. That evening, Jack ordered her a desk and easel to add to the room, and even spent the next day moving out the spare bed in the room so she could create an “art studio” for herself.

Usually at this time of night, Jack would come home to find Y/N about done with dinner for the two of them. When she didn’t answer him when he called out for her as he walked in the door, he knew exactly where she must be.

Jack made his way to Y/N’s art studio and could hear her humming along to the music she had playing that was leaking out through the cracked door.

Carefully, he peaked in the crack of the door, trying not to disturb her.

“With you all the time…” Y/N sung to herself as she kept her focus on the brush strokes she was creating across the canvas she had infront of her on the floor.

With a small smile on his face, Jack backed away from the door and walked towards their kitchen, on a mission to make dinner for the two of them while Y/N finished up her painting.

Jack didn’t have much experience in the kitchen as he was often working late and Y/N would make something before he got home, but surely he could figure something out.

Shifting through the contents of the fridge, Jack came across some chicken breasts that Y/N must’ve been planning on cooking tonight as they had already been taken out of the package and prepped. He figured it would be easy enough to do something with that. After he preheated the oven, he found himself a baking pan, placed the chicken in it, and then hunted the cabinets for some type of seasoning. After seasoning the chicken to the best of his ability, Jack placed the chicken in the oven before moving on to find something else to prepare to have with the chicken.

Jack found a bag of potatoes in the lazy susan and decided that mashed potatoes must be a dish he could easily conquer. Before beginning on those, he found himself looking in the freezer to see if they had any of Y/N’s favorite vegetable, broccoli, to also go with their meal. Jack always found it weird that out of all the choices out there, broccoli was her favorite. But, he wanted to make her a good meal and he knew that would make her happy.

They had some microwavable packages of broccoli, so, after he found one, he placed it in the microwave to cook for a few minutes before working on the mashed potatoes again.

Taking the potatoes out of the bag and sitting them on the table, Jack quickly realized he had no idea out to make mashed potatoes and that maybe he couldn’t easily conquer them.

He leaned his hands on the table and looked down at the potatoes with his eyebrows pulled together.

“Well…I at least need to mash them,” he said to himself, pushing off the table to find something to mash them with.

He turned around with his hands on his hips and his lips pulled in his mouth as he glanced around the room. His eyes spotted a bottle of bourbon on the bar cart placed in the corner of the kitchen, “I guess this will do.”

Jack placed the potatoes in a large bowl, glanced at the bottle of bourbon in his hand, shrugged, and the proceeded to *try* to mash the potatoes with the bottom of the bottle.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jack paused with the bourbon bottle mid air as he heard Y/N speak behind him. He quickly placed the bottle down and turned to smile at her.

“Don’t look at that, but I’m making dinner! Baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and your favorite,” he said to her as he walked up to her and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her in to him.

Jack smiled down at her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I missed you today, darling.”

Y/N hummed and relaxed into him as she looked up at him, “I missed you, too. Didn’t realize you were home or what time it was. I would’ve made you dinner, love.”

“You always make me dinner, let me take care of my wife for the evening, okay?”

“Okay, but I don’t think you’re gonna get very far with those mashed potatoes if you keep that method up,” Y/N giggled looking around him at the bourbon bottle placed next to the bowl of raw potatoes.

“I don’t think I’m gonna get very far if you keep that up,” he responded, voice an octave lower and his eyes growing heavy.

Y/N looked back up at him, surprised by his switch in behavior. “If I keep what up?” she questioned as her heart started to beat a little faster.

“If you keep looking so beautiful. Crazy how fast you turn me on just by existing,” Jack murmured against the side of her face, gently bringing his lips down until they graze across her lips.

They stay like that for a beat, just grazing their lips against one another waiting for the other to make the move to connect their lips.

Not being able to take it any more, Y/N reached up and grabbed the side of Jack’s head, bringing his lips roughly into hers. This told him everything he needed to know about how their night would go.

Rough and rushed.

They were devouring each other as if they had been starved of one another for a lifetime.

Jack held on to Y/N as he moved her backwards into the living room before pushing her down onto the couch and crawling on top of her.

He breaks the kiss and looks down at her, “Oh look at my precious little wife. I spend my evening preparing a whole dinner for her, but shes desperately hungry for something else. Hm? Isn’t that right, Darling?”

“Always hungry for you,” Y/N quietly, breathily responds as she looks up with him with those big eyes that make him unable to restrain himself.

Without hesitation, Jack lifts himself up to rip Y/N’s sweatpants off her body while proceeding to toss her body around until she laying on her stomach.

He goes to land a slap against her ass when something catches his eye and he can’t help to lower his hand and let out a laugh instead, his dominant demeanor immediately dissolving.

“What?” Y/N asks, looking back at him worried and confused as to why he was laughing at her.

“I don’t even want to know what you have been doing in that studio to get paint all over your bum,” he said through a smile and chuckled as he lightly tapped the few splotches of paint.

Y/N craned her neck over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the paint he was referring to before responding, “I honestly don’t either, but if you don’t stop laughing at me and just fuck me soon then I’m g-FUCK!”

She yelped as he brought his hand roughly down on her ass, a loud smack sounding through the room.

“I’d shut that dumb little mouth of yours if you expect me to give you anything tonight,” Jack said, rubbing the place on her ass that he had just hit.

Y/N sighed, closing her eyes, “Yes, sir.” She relaxed into the couch knowing that if Jack was in his dominant state that she would be getting exactly what she wanted no matter what.

He was so pussy-whipped.

“There she is, been waiting for my good girl to come out.”

Jack leaned back and brought his hand to the zipper of his dress pants. He undid them and pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to let his cock spring free. He reached down and pushed Y/N’s underwear to the side, feeling how wet she already was.

“Hmmmm, barely even touched you. What? Does seeing me in the kitchen turn you into a whore for me?”

“Always a whore for you,” she hummed back as she wiggled her ass aganst his hands rubbing her up and down.

He removed a hand at the action and brought his hand down in a spank against her ass. “Cmon, don’t be greedy, darling.”

While Y/N squirmed from the spank she just received, Jack to line his shaft up with her entrance brushing himself lightly against her.

“Not greedy, just missed you.”

“Missed me? You had me last night,” Jack said as he roughly pushed himself into her. “But I guess I missed you too fuck.”

Jack began fucking into her so roughly that Y/N couldn’t even catch her breath to moan out.

He kept his quick pace for a minute before reaching around Y/N’s throat and bringing her up on her knees against his chest. He slowed down, giving her harder thrusts.

She threw her head back in a moan as he slightly tightened his grip around her throat and began whispering in her ear, “There ya go, darling, there ya go. Let yourself feel it all.”

“Mmmm, I love you so much, Jack,” she lazily spoke out with her eyes softly shut.

“Love you forever, always want you to feel good,” Jack responded as he began kissing and sucking on her exposed neck.

No matter how rough they were with each other, their love was always the number one thing fueling the passion. Expressing their love for one another no matter the intensity of the moment was extremely important to them.

Feeling he was close, Jack reached around Y/N’s body with the hand that wasn’t around her neck to press his fingers against her clit.

A whine escaped the back of her throat, her face scrunching up, and her body wiggling in his hold as he began to move his fingers to bring her to the edge with him.

“Cmon darling, I’ve got you. Just gotta let go for me, yeah?” he said into her ear.

Immediately following his words, Y/N’s entire body clenched up and she gripped onto Jack’s arms has tight as she could, feeling her orgasm tack control of her body.

Shortly following, Jack halted his thrusts and released inside of her, his body shuddering has she continued to clench around him.

They slowly caught their breath and relaxed into one another. They sat peacfully recovering in each others arms when Y/N spoke up, “Jack…”

“Hm, darling. I got you,” he responded tightening his arms around her to keep her grounded after her orgasm.

“No, I-is…” she stammered out, “Is something burning? Smells funny?”

Jack’s eyes shot open as he jumped up heading for the kicthen while shoving himself back into his pants.

He forgot the chicken in the oven.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he chanted as he ran into the kitchen.

Y/N got up and followed him into the kitchen to see him open the oven as smoke billowed out of it.

Jack waved the smoke out of his face and quickly grabbed a pair of oven mits to get the chicken out of the oven.

He threw the pan and burnt chicken onto the counter before slamming the oven closed. “

“Don’t look at that, either,” he let out a breath before looking back up to Y/N whose had was covering her mouth as she tried to keep herself from laughing at him.

“Burnt chicken and raw mashed potatoes. Not sure if this is much of a dinner love,” Y/N teased with a smile on her face.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Jack responded while popping open the microwave and pulling out the package he had placed in it earlier to cook, “We still have broccoli.”

a/n

only the second one shot i’ve written and writing smut is still kinda weird for me but i’m enjoying it! omg but jack deserves it bc he’s hot !!! that’s all !!!!

lmk what you think ab it!!

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sseomtada · 2 months

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being [ruben dias]

your move to Manchester signifies a triumph - the result of nearly a decade of relentless, hard work. However, your sweet victory is quickly turned sour when you reencounter the person you once deeply loved.

a/n: remade secretly only to be back on my bs...here's to praying for me to finish this fic? | 1/??? | 4191 words

This weather was nothing short of an utter atrocity.

It was the kind of bone-chilling freeze that overpowered even your skin's ability to raise its own flesh. Every ounce of energy repurposed instead to turn that evolutionary feature inwards. A futile effort, at least in your case. Even back home in Amadora, you suffered from genetic lack of internal warmth.

Miserable environment aside, the move would be worth it. Everything that you’ve done for the past few years - nearly a decade of sleep deprivation, being the brunt bearer of power trips and clinging to the slimmest sliver of rarely presented opportunities - had led to this.

Not the brutalist view spanning the length of your new floor to ceiling living room windows, but what it signified. Growth. The expansion of your firm here, in Manchester.

“Estou exausta…”

You pulled your eyes from the endless clouds to see your right hand, Aki, draped limply over the last of your boxes.

“Careful.” You bent to rip open the tape sealing the one near your feet.

“Oh, sorry.” She blew her overgrown bangs up to no avail. “Am I crushing your precious CB2 ceramics?”

“Actually, you’re slowly sinking onto my very sharp surgical steel kitchen knives.” The box cutter in your hand gestured vaguely to the label beneath her hips.

Aki’s yelp echoed off through the empty loft as she sprang from the impending mockup of a medieval torture method. Your laughter joined in when she grimaced and muttered something threatening to the thick cardboard that remained dent free.

“Thanks for helping me with all this.” You exhaled. “I owe you.”

“We’re even when you think about it.” She fetched a box opener of her own.

Your eyes widened. There was never a moment in your lifelong friendship when she didn’t take up on an IOU card. Not even when she purposefully served a suspension for knocking the lights out of a girl who blew gum into your hair in the fifth grade.

“I mean, you brought me along with you to open Bana. Full executive package, no less.” Aki beamed and then sneered upon unboxing her newfound arch nemeses.

That was true. Since she was the company’s Head of Finance, her immigration to Manchester was completed covered. Housing located right across the hallway, a brand new car of choice and an increase in salary to accommodate for the higher price of living wasn't the worst package to receive.

It didn’t feel like much of a repayment for her efforts when all things were considered. Bana wouldn’t be close to what it was today if it wasn’t for her. Any business was only as successful as how well they manage their finances, an aspect that she can solely and proudly take credit for.

Not to mention that you both would be extremely busy while trying to fully establish this new branch. If anything, she at least deserved the building’s penthouse suite for the headaches bound to come throughout this journey.

“So…is that a pass on the 1982 Bruno Giacosa?” You dangled the proverbial carrot.

Aki didn’t miss a beat, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Getting ready for your first day at the office never felt this good.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that your first ever job was, understandably, anxiety inducing. Being an intern for a well-known marketing firm wasn’t known to be a glamorous position - the multitude of reasons for that not stopping at being a coffee gopher.

After climbing the ladder to a mid-level position within your previous company, it became painfully obvious that the older leaders had no intention of making room for you soon. To eradicate any dreams of that from your mind, they even outright said it.

That led to your next go at a first day, the start of your own consultancy which would then go on to become Bana. Even though you had established your presence in the marketing world and had a few loyal clients, no amount of seminars you’d attended or books you’d read could’ve prepared you for the monster of a task you’d taken on.

This time felt different. There was always going to be an element of nervousness when stepping into a new venture. Even though this was a new branch on a tree you knew well, there was a lot to learn about operating in a new country and little time to do so.

What you had now, however, allowed you to convert that nervous energy into excitement. Experience, establishment and esteem. Those things among the equally as important trustworthy team behind you left you more confident than anything else that this could potentially only be the beginning.

“There better be a good reason why you’ve got me out early on a morning like this.” Aki’s poor facial muscles have yet to relax since the move it seemed. This time their scrunch was due to storm clouds looming in the distance.

“I think our very lovely AD has something exciting to share.” You nodded to give her the go ahead.

“Ladies, as you know I’ve been working on getting us an in with a certain business through my various sources and I’m happy to report that Bana was among the firms selected to pitch.” Cindy could barely contain her excitement.

Her optimism was infectious and part of the reason you recruited her. Another reason for bringing her into the fold to establish the new office was the insane network she had.

The blonde Londoner was in a similar predicament to you when you were starting out not long aog. Even hungrier, if you admitted it. Her former employer didn’t see the potential she clearly possessed, so you had no problem poaching her from them.

“And do we finally get to know the name of this state secret level business?” Aki leaned forward.

“Nike!” Cindy couldn't hold back any longer.

Even your face dropped at that. Not in the way that one’s expression would if they just found out that they’d been rejected from their dream school. It was something akin to finding out you’d won a fucking Oscar.

Among the celebratory cheers and shimmies, you thanked Cindy greatly for her hard work. And although it was a moment of uncontainable joy, the wheels had already began to turn in your mind.

There was absolutely no room for error if you wanted this pitch to be chosen. Being a newer firm undoubtably going up against major competition, Bana’s proposal had to be more than just that.

It had to be a statement. One that said you were not only a major player in this field, but that you also were to be seen as a direct rival.

You got to delegating tasks quickly. The sooner you got the bare bones of the pitch down, the quicker you could work on perfecting it. Aki was on budgeting as always - pricing presentation materials, researching and pricing the estimated budget for the product rollout for Nike.

Cindy was mostly on recon regarding the target audience. The product being launched was a new pair of their iconic AirMax, so you anticipated her using historical data as a guideline.

You’d have to do a fair bit of research yourself - getting into market research, the brand’s positioning and messaging - all while putting your firm’s spin on where you think Nike is hoping to go with this launch.

It was needless to say that the midnight oil would be burning. You set up a co-working space in the conference room to make communication seamless in brainstorming and building. This was the energy you missed so much, and a more sentimental reason behind your expansion.

Back home in Amadora, Bana was a well oiled machine. With a strong staff beside you, the hands on aspects of marketing were placed on the back burner by your own doing. In order for your employees to grow, you had to let them lead projects of their own and you trusted them to do so.

Now, you were back to inhaling concerning amounts of dry erase marker fumes and getting carpal tunnel from extensive mood boarding. That along with a side of meal deliveries and an equally as hard-working coffee machine made the long hours seemingly fly by.

“I’m so tapped, I need to power down for the day.” Aki stretched her back dramatically.

“Feel free to head out too, Cindy. Get some well deserved rest.” You took a moment of your own to release tension in your neck. “I’m good here for the next few hours.”

She was visibly grateful to be given the go ahead to clock out. From past experiences, you were able to sympathize all too well. You also made a mental note to have a conversation with her regarding working hours. There was never going to be an obligation of staying behind under your watch.

Cindy and Aki neatly organized materials for their return in the morning while you made your way to your office to continue outlining. With all of the research required collected, all you had to do at this point was place the information into their allocated areas.

There were three short raps at your door before you called her in.

“Still being here wasn’t exactly what I meant by rest, Cindy.” You chuckled, not looking away from your monitors.

“I’m on my way out now! Just wanted to bring you over the client mailing list I got from my source a minute ago.” She slid a USB drive onto your desk.

Your brows raised appreciatively, “Thank you, really. I mean it when I say that your presence here is essential and invaluable.”

Cindy waved a hand, her head shaking in time.

“I’m just happy to be helpful. See you tomorrow!”

You bid her goodbye and immediately got to taking a look at the information she left behind. It would be very useful in filling in some gaps you needed to flush out ideas that would attract the goal audience for the new product.

Influencers, Performing Artists, YouTubers…Athletes.

The last of those categories was obviously a given considering the brand. It also wasn’t the first time you’d come across that group in your line of work. This time though, seeing the label suddenly formed a knot in your stomach.

You were brought back to all of the avoidance in the aftermath - everyone in your life completely air-gapping the football world from your path. They did that to protect you, a gesture you still couldn’t bring yourself to thank them for verbally.

The mouse beneath your hot palm slowly shifted as you moved the cursor to click and expand the list. That knot grew to the size of a boulder. It squeezed your insides painfully within and forced a broken little noise past your lips.

One look at the name Ruben Dias was all it took to rattle you to your core.

o passado

At the age of seven, you moved to Portugal.

There wasn’t much you missed about your hometown, or even remembered for that matter. All you knew was that you were eerily calm for a child whose entire life up until that point had been uprooted. It was possible that your serene state of mind came from your mom.

She was all you had in the world. There was virtually no relationship had with her family - the only photograph you ever had with your grandparents was at your christening.

When it came to your dad, she put it as kindly as she could for a kid. You were smart enough to read the inference in her tone and the look on her face in the handful of moments he was brought up. He wasn’t in your life because he didn’t want to be.

Yet still, none of that made you sad or shaped you into a person defined by traumas. You intended to live the life that your mother encouraged you to. Be a kid, climb trees and get dirty, make friends along the way.

And that was just what you did. The first of them being the girl in your class that waved you over to the empty seat beside hers when you transferred. My name’s Akenna, but I hate it so I make everyone call me Aki instead.

She was the only person other than your mom who made you feel safe enough to confide in, just as easy to talk to as it was to listen to her wild recounts of her own life story.

Aki quickly became a regular in your home and you in hers. The giggles and secrets held in the various forts sprawling from your living room to bedroom would stay under lock and key until long after you both passed.

The next person you met would be the one who arguably shaped you the most. Loud shouts and tussling with a ball in the neighborhood park with his siblings was where you met Ruben. His tattered football rolled to your feet that touched the ground after you’d leapt from the swings.

With a weak kick, you returned it. Ruben shook his head in disapproval before he shot it right back at you. Try that again, with the left this time. You didn’t know if it was anger at being challenged by some random kid or genuine hidden talent, but when you hit the ball with your instep, it flew powerfully and directly into his own.

She’s on my team!

Inseparable wasn’t a strong enough word to describe you two. After finding out that you lived only one house down, he would come to your school to walk with you back home. On many of those occasions, Aki was there too. Your mom would be waiting with snacks and a warning, don’t play too long out in the sun, patifes.

Somewhere and somehow along the years, you and Ruben had become so close that it seemed you two were dating. Ivan jokingly asked one day as you were sharing a vanilla ice cream cone, ew, are you boyfriend and girlfriend? Ruben grabbed your hand, laced your fingers with his, and simply said, yes.

And that was that.

As for when you began to realize you loved him, that was harder to pinpoint. Maybe it came once you began to notice how helpful he was to you and your mom.

Ruben was always willing to lend a hand with repairs around your house, even if it meant searching up how-to videos when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Or how he’d go out of his way to walk your mom home when she worked night shifts.

Aki often griped and rolled her eyes at how you two were making her feel like a third wheel. Those complaints were always quickly followed with rebuttals that she’d spent a grand total of fifteen days as a single girl since she was thirteen.

Just make sure my maid of honor dress isn’t fugly at your wedding.

It was all but a given that marriage was pending in the future for you two. Ruben never had eyes for any other girl and you…God, you were terribly devoted to him. Even your posters of Justin Bieber found themselves catching dust in the closet, replaced by a collage of photos you and Ruben had taken together over time.

Five years saw graduations, proms, college acceptances and many, many firsts experienced together. His arms were the only man’s you’d ever laughed in, cried in, slept in. His eyes were the only one’s you saw when you closed your own. His lips were the only thing you wanted to taste on the good and bad days, and everything in between.

So, what happened on September 15th 2017?

To this day, you still had no answers to the why behind that question. Nor could you allow yourself to wrack your brain for them any longer should you want to hold onto your sanity.

As for what. Simply put, it was the worst day of your entire life to date.

On the eve of his debut for Benfica’s first team, an event he’d dreamt of and worked so hard for, one that become just as significant to you by extension, Ruben broke up with you. Over the phone, no less - which added humiliation onto a violent erupting volcano of destructive emotions.

Cold turkey, brutal, cruel. It’s over, don’t contact me, I don’t love you anymore.

There were no warning signs, no moments in retrospect left unturned during your spiral, that could’ve possibly made what you read true. You initially thought it was some sick joke. Maybe one of his teammates had taken his phone. Or perhaps there was some girl that wanted him and was jealous that he was yours, so she decided to play dirty.

It was none of that or the million other scenarios you came up with on you walk over to his home. You came to learn that it was, in fact, not a joke. Ruben meant it when he said he was done with you.

He made that painfully clear as he looked at you standing under the faint glow of the lantern on his front porch through the window. Those eyes you once dreamt of fondly seemingly someone else’s as he drew the curtain and shut off the light.

You don’t recall much of time that passed in the months following that night. Every now and then you’d get flashes - Aki crawling in and out of the bed you temporarily became one with, your mom scooping you up to help you bathe and wash your hair.

It was better that way, you think. A blessing in disguise to not be able to clearly recall the most devastating period of your existence.

When your memory resumed, it always picked up at the same place. You siting with Aki on the steps of an abandoned subway station in total silence.

In your mind, you were there with him years ago when the line was still functioning. The rush of the train brought wind along that rose your hair like lightning was about to strike. Ruben grinned toothily as he smoothed it back, tilting your face upwards.

He said I’d always be home when I was with him. Where am I supposed to go now?

The silence returned even louder following the question that neither of you had the answer to.

Instead, you sat there in it with your best friend and shed the last tears you ever would over Ruben Dias.

o presente

Seven years was a long time.

It came with two college degrees, laser focus and an ability to compartmentalize so strongly that it would terrify artificial intelligence.

Whatever threatened to upend you at the sight of his name was snatched up and contained to be dealt with sometime in the future. You didn’t put literal blood, sweat and tears into your career to let one old wound derail it at such a pivotal moment.

With the same vigor you scrapped up to move on with your life, you poured every ounce of energy you had into absolutely nailing your pitch. Five all nighters, thirty six edits and ten complete run throughs later resulted in Bana being chosen as the firm to brand the newest AirMax.

“I always knew you were a genius, but this project was just,” Aki kissed the air as she took the next left to drive back to your shared building.

“Team effort, Aks.” You mumbled.

The thing about throwing yourself entirely into one project was that when the hard work was done, all the was left was the shit you were avoiding. You could feel it there, gnawing at the back of your head like a mice on a fresh piece of cheese.

“What if we watched an old coming of age movie like we used to on nights like this? Pop out some wine, get in our pj’s…real wild stuff.” She nudged your elbow with hers.

You casted a fond glance at her. Aki would never come outright and say it, but it was her way of checking in with you. The client mailing list was no secret to her since she needed it for the budgeting, so there was no way she missed him being on there.

The mice grew hungrier. Throughout all of your breakdowns and pain, she held all of hers in unselfishly and arguably stupidly. You weren’t the only one who lost someone important to you on that night.

“We do that after product launches. The deal has only just been sealed.” A smile was managed to form on your end.

“Ah…best not jinx it then, huh?” Aki blew a raspberry.

In order to keep her worries at bay this time, something you silently promised to do ever since your senses had returned, you squeezed her arm and doubled down.

“Besides, I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in nearly three weeks. I think I’ll just go for a short run, take a shower and hibernate.”

She nodded, liking the sound of that plan. You would’ve felt proud of your disarming skills had you not known the real reason for her shoulders relaxing. She was looking forward to having the next two days off more than anyone else.

“Don’t forget to text me when you get back.” Aki stuck out her pinky.

“Always.” You locked yours in tight.

The repetitive beat of your feet meeting the ground had the ability to still your mind nearly as much as pouring yourself into your work did. Left, right, left, right, left. When you added in the accompanying swing of your arms, the constant reminder to keep your breath in control and music that made you feel like you could punch a hole through a wall - you were nothing short of a machine.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanism you’d clung to back home. Every day, you’d take to the streets of the new neighborhood you moved to and then to the track at you university.

You’d gotten so good at it that you were scouted to run for the school’s team. Going pro was never a part of your plan, though. You only accepted the offer because it came with a free ride.

A drop of water hit your face, but it was cold.

Your treads slowed a bit as your eyes turned skyward. The clouds illuminated against a murky purplish background with the warning of distant lightning approaching. You refocused and pumped your legs faster. Fucking Manchester.

In between your songs transitioning, you heard a faint rumble. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the sound distorted by the headphones muffling your ears playing tricks that twisted the noise to sound partially human.

Whether it was or not, you weren’t trying to stick around to find out. It was late at night and the weather was going to get hellish soon.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a shadow ripping behind the streetlights - closing in on yours with each meter. Lactic acid built painfully in your muscles as you pushed even harder, breath control thrown to the wind.

It was gaining on you while rain began to fully fall.

Within a matter of seconds, which is all you had, you came to a decision. You were too exhausted from sleep deprivation and being nearly an hour into your run to beat whoever was chasing after you. The only option you had now was to steel your nerves and use the keys in your pocket as a last line of defense.

Your right hand blindly reached down and was met with lint. Terror hadn’t been felt until that very moment. A thousand and one scenarios raced through your mind with you reaching for the ones that would allow you to leave this situation at least narrowly unscathed.

The one you got a firm grip on using the element of surprise to hopefully distract them from whatever intentions they had for an instant. You took one last deep breath before spinning around swiftly and throwing out a fist.

A man in a baseball cap dodged the punch to his credit, albeit not very ideal for you. His balance, however, was in your favor. He slipped on the slick sidewalk and landed flat on his back with a pained groan.

You were the last thing you should’ve been given that you’d been granted an escape - frozen. On your behalf, you would’ve been halfway down the street and barreling towards your building had it not been for the wide eyes staring up at you.

Those eyes…Ruben’s.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x you #being

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chaos0pikachu · 3 months

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So @doyou000me sent me an ask about the film making of Love for Love's Sake (which I have learned is based on a novel and now I'm very interested in reading it lol) so having watched the currently available episodes the big thing I noticed was the shows use of Aspect Ratio.

"In simple terms, the aspect ratio of a movie is how wide the frame of the movie is versus how tall it is, usually expressed as a ratio. For example, most TVs and computer monitors are 1.77:1 (more often expressed on consumer packaging as 16:9), which means the screen itself is 1.77 times as wide as it is tall. The higher the first number in this ratio is, the wider the screen will be." (source)

I know, nerd math.

Basically you know those black bars you sometimes see on the top and bottom of the screen when watching a film or tv show? That's a director filming in a specific aspect ratio:

(source)

Film makers use aspect ratios in a ton of ways, there's a lot of examples out there from Hateful Eight (Quentin Tarantino), and Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan) where the former used aspect ratio to invoke the film making style of old westerns, while Nolan used a taller aspect ratio for fight/action scenes to give the scene more physical impact.

A recent example that I've seen that I think applies really well to Love for Love's Sake is Marry My Husband:

See how the first scene has black bars above and below? The director is using a different aspect ratio than in the second shot (these are both taken from ep01). What does this signify in the story?

Flashbacks. Flashbacks in Marry My Husband are always filmed in a different aspect ratio than scenes in the "present" storyline of the show. Perfect Marriage Revenge also uses aspect ratios this way.

Love for Love's Sake does something similar but instead of flashbacks it uses aspect ratio to denote between "worlds".

The game world is filmed in a longer aspect ratio than the "real" world which is filed in a different ratio (not a standard full screen but it does have a taller ratio than the game world):

This, so far, has been consistent in the four episodes that are out. We have another return to the "real" world in I believe ep03 and we see this same aspect ratio dynamic.

Another thing I noticed is the "real" world's color saturation is much higher and warmer than the "game" world, but it's also (ironically) much more enclosed - this could honestly be a story choice or a budget issue - and boxed in. Something I don't see discussed a lot in terms of cinematography in BL is the use of Lines and Shapes in film and how they add to the composition of a shot.

I really like this video on the subject though it focuses mostly on animation it's still relevant:

youtube

Now if you look at the "real" world scene in Love for Love's Sake we see that the protagonist, before we even know who he is, or anything about him, is in a highly saturated room, warmly lit, but also boxed in:

The warmer saturation denotes a sense of intimacy, which makes sense in a bar setting, but the boxed in frame around him gives us a sense of tightness, tension even, maybe a sense that he feels trapped. We later learn through dialogue he's unhappy with his life and unhappy with the way the novel story he read has played out.

Then, when the scene transitions into the "game" world, the protagonist is in a different aspect ratio, the color grading is now more desaturated and has a higher blue hue to it, the character is also in an open space and filmed front forward facing instead of from behind:

This all works well because the audience knows, even before the character does, they are in another "world" and its very different from their own. It creates to specific aesthetics which help set the worlds apart from one another.

For more on color theory, this is one of my favorite videos on the topic which has more to do with like, hue and saturation rather than "the blue curtains mean xyz" which is a singular and narrative heavy way to focus on color theory instead of how color adds to the tone, emotion, and world building of a piece of media.

youtube

I think the first episode of Love for Love's Sake is the best filmed of the episodes so far, the budget starts to chip away in other episodes but I do want to give them their roses b/c they do work within their budget well. There's a lot of interesting visuals used especially with the game pop ups that I really like, and some nice camera work. The editing is a bit weak at times but there's been some good choices too.

I also really liked the scene with Yeo Woon running and how his feet lit up and how that aligned with his affection points going up. The editing for that was well done.

So yeah, those are my film making thoughts on the show for now lol

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

#love for love's sake #kbl #chaos pikachu speaks #spot my kofi some coins if y'all like these posts lmao #also love for loves sake is cute as hell I'm into it #its a bit slow but last episode picked up and it's very charming #chaos pikachu metas #also if you wanna have a fun time watch any video on transformers the last knight and learn how to NOT use aspect ratios lmao #god that was such a frustrating thing to witness #Youtube #pikachu's bl film series

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mikhailwrites · 2 months

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Soaring Ever Higher 1 - Ghoap/Ace Combat 7 crossover

Remember when I said it's gonna be a one shot? Yeah, me neither...

Ghost looks up, into the vast expanse of clear blue sky. To be honest, he never paid too much attention to it. His fight is and has always been on the ground. Now, he can’t help but wonder: how does being up there feel? There is no ground to support you, no cover to help you, no nothing, just you, the mission, and almost endless space. Is it freeing or terrifying? Maybe both? Maybe he will ask MacTavish, if they cross paths again...

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„This is Bravo 0-7. I’m in position and ready,“ Ghost says into the com, crouching in the vegetation, trying his best to ignore a bead of sweat tracing his spine. Of all the places, the jungle is probably his least favourite. Everything around him slithers and crawls, the humid heat making him sweat gallons.

“Copy that, Bravo; ETA on Strider is T-minus seven minutes; be ready to paint the target,” Laswell informs him in her signature matter-of-fact manner.

Ghost takes the laser designator out of the backpack and mounts it on a tripod. The conditions are less than ideal; the sky is uniformly grey and overcast. It’ll be hard, if not impossible, for the laser to penetrate the clouds, and even then, there’s still a dense jungle that could thwart the attack. It’ll take a damn skilled pilot to make this work.

“Bravo 0-7, this is Strider 1 en route; how copy?” a new voice on the coms. Ghost’s eyebrow twitch in surprise as an unmistakable Scottish brogue greets him.

“Solid copy,” Ghost answers out of habit more than anything.

“Some taps-aff weather today, eh? I reckon I’ll be entering the OA in about three minutes.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, a behemoth of a jet emerges from the clouds like a bloody reaper surfacing from the Styx. Ghost has never seen a plane like that before, all sharp angles and planes of dark grey stealth coating. It looks like something from a sci-fi movie. And right behind it comes the thundering sound, unable to quite catch up to the plane.

“Strider 1 entering OA. I’m getting a solid reading on the laser, moving up to drop the package. You might want to turn around, LT,” the pilot warns as the jet closes in on the target. The drop is flawless, and Ghost doesn’t turn away despite the advice. The jet thunders by, and a few seconds later, the whole enemy base goes up in an eruption of fire, debris and smoke. The explosion shatters the building and shakes the ground. Ghost is grateful for his protective headset because it most probably just saved his hearing.

“Bloody hell!” Ghost shields his eyes as the shock wave reaches him and, with it, the gust of dust and dirt. The worst of the dust settles in, the jet gone, up above the clouds once more, as if it was never here in the first place, a spectre of destruction. “Bravo 0-7, confirming a direct hit.”

“Happy to hear that. Strider, Bravo, you’re RTB. Get out of there before the enemy regroups,” Laswell instructs, just as Ghost is packing the designator and prepares to trek back through the jungle to the RV, where the helo will be waiting to pick him up.

No sooner than he starts to think the mission’s been a breeze, the bullets start flying. The base is destroyed, but apparently, what’s left of the enemy managed to regroup rather quickly. Ghost curses and immediately lifts his rifle as he scurries through the dense vegetation, hoping to lose the tail. There’s no telling how many are onto him, but it doesn’t matter; he’s alone, and that’s some crappy odds he doesn’t want to test.

“This is Bravo 0-7. I’m in a hotspot, multiple tangos on me,” he hurriedly explains his situation just as a bullet chips away at the tree not even a few feet from him. He has no choice but to throw himself on the ground to make himself the smallest target possible. “Fuck!”

“Break the contact and proceed to the RV!” Laswell urges him.

As much as he’d love to heed her words, he’s pinned down. “Negative, Watcher 1, I’m stuck!”

“I can turn around and make a sweep; he’s got the IR tag; I’ll see him and can provide support,” Strider cuts into the conversation.

“You’re RTB, Strider 1; do not stray from the course!” yet another voice, male, older. Perhaps Strider’s CO.

“I’m not leaving him there if I can help!” Strider 1 argues, sounding more irritated than agitated.

“That was a direct order, Strider. Return to base immediately! You are not armed for close air support!”

“I still have the 20mm; that’s more than enough! Re-entering OA in two minutes!”

Ghost doesn’t say anything, but he’s bloody grateful for Strider’s help, insubordination or not. Carefully, he turns and dusts one tango he has in his sights. There’s plenty more as another salvo of bullets flies over his head.

“ETA thirty seconds, Ghost; hang in there, soldier!” Strider says, sounding breathless.

“I’m going to have your ass for this, Trigger!” the man on comms shouts.

Ghost is almost tempted to say something at that point. Luckily, the grey war beast makes a hell of an entrance right then. Ghost’s only warning is a shout of “incoming!” as the fighter swoops in from the left and spreads some 20mm cheer across the jungle—the vegetation yields. The enemies do, too. The jet is gone, leaving an ungodly amount of devastation in its wake. Only to make a second pass from the right moments later. Strider had to pull off some serious high-G turn to be that fast.

It paid off, though. There’s not a single living thing near Ghost.

“I’m in the clear, heading to RV now; thanks for the air support, Strider 1. Much appreciated, mate,” Ghost says as he’s finally on his way from this hellhole.

Ghost can’t leave it alone. He wants to thank the man properly, so after a lengthy mission report, during which he hasn’t forgotten to stress that Strider saved his life, he heads to the hangar. Sure enough, the aircraft is there. Up close, it looks even stranger. Like it shouldn’t even be able to fly, let alone be capable of stuff Ghost had witnessed earlier that day. The jet is huge and imposing; short, diamond-shaped wings and vertical stabilizers placed on the outer edges of the craft only enhance the overall alien look. Ghost also notices distinct white decals on its vertical stabilisers: three scratches and a clawed paw. It feels familiar, yet he can’t honestly remember why. Maybe he overheard someone talking about it, or maybe his mind is playing tricks on him.

“Bonnie lass, ain’t she?” someone asks from behind his back. The voice is a little familiar now. Simon turns around to put a face to it. And is surprised. Pleasantly so. The man is a bit shorter and well-built, obviously fit, but that goes without saying. You can’t sustain high-G manoeuvres without some proper muscles and strength. His face is pleasant, too, thin lips curling in a smile. He looks like a father proudly displaying his offspring. Only the “kid”, in this case, is a multimillion-pound war machine. Ghost pauses his inspection on the mohawk. How cliché is that? Yet, it suits the man.

“What is it even?” slowly, he turns back to the plane.

“An old prototype made for the Americans. They went with a different plane in the end, the F-22. The two of these were meant for some sort of museum or whatever. Got a chance to rescue one, so I did,” Strider shrugs, looking at the plane almost lovingly.

Ghost hums in contemplation. The plane looks like a prototype, alright. But whatever does the Strider even mean by rescuing it? How do you rescue a jet? And why? “What’s your name?”

That seems to get the pilot’s attention. For a split second, he looks confused, then bursts into laughter. “Aye, that’s fair, boasting about my plane, and I haven’t even introduced myself.” He walks closer, extending his right arm. Ghost shakes it, noting the firm grip. “John MacTavish, call-sign Trigger.”

“Ghost,” Ghost replies, not bothering with his name and surname as he suspects Trigger already knows. “Thanks for… earlier.” The Lieutenant nods to show his appreciation further. Trigger truly saved his ass back there. What an apt call-sign, too.

“Don’t mention it. You needed a backup, and I was close by,” Trigger waves his hand to dismiss the gratitude, looking almost sheepish as if anyone would do the same. Ghost knows only too well it’s not true.

“You disobeyed a direct order,” Ghost reminds him, having a very clear idea about the reprimand and possible disciplinary actions that awaited John.

“I value life over the orders, anytime, and from what I’ve heard about you, I think you understand,” suddenly, Trigger’s face became unreadable, blue eyes searching Ghost’s own for… something.

The Scot is not wrong, but how exactly does he know? He has no idea. Ghost’s notoriety comes mostly from the mystery behind his mask and his combat skill. Sticking up for his teammates is usually not part of the legend.

At first, Ghost thought MacTavish to be yet another flamboyant hothead. Fighter pilots are an odd bunch, all of them. Yet MacTavish seems different, somehow. As if he wants to fit the stereotype; wants the people to see him for someone he’s clearly not. Why? Ghost has no idea. There seems to be a growing number of ‘whys’ around the man, and Ghost would be lying if he said he’s not intrigued. “I do, which also means that I can appreciate the sentiment all the more.”

“Tell you what, if you really want to thank me, how about you buy me a drink? I’m parched!” Trigger proposes, and the smile is back on his handsome face.

Ghost has a pretty good idea about where this is heading, but there are not many reasons not to pursue it. The bloke is interesting, entertaining, and easy on the eyes. If he’s game, then Ghost is, too. And if he’s misreading the situation? Well, he deserves a drink anyway.

“Give me a few minutes. I’ll finish up here and meet you by the gate,” John says as he takes a rag and cleans an oil stain on the nose of his plane.

Ghost nods and heads out. The night has fallen while he was in the hangar, but the base and especially the tarmac are always well-lit.

Ghost waits by the gate, just like Trigger asked him to. However, it’s already been over thirty minutes, and there’s still no sign of John. Ghost gives it another ten before he comes to an inevitable conclusion that he’s been stood up. Ghost shakes his head in disbelief. In his thirty-odd years, this has to be the first.

The Lieutenant chuckles as he starts to the barracks.

#Soap is Trigger #And flies YF-23 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ace combat #ace combat 7

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kronkk · 22 days

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why did you pick lesbian? I’m trying to pick a sexuality right now and I need advice. I applied for a couple and my top choices right now are lesbian, straight, and bisexual. I don’t want gay or asexual but if I have to I’ll do one of those

The union tbh. The benefits package was what ultimately convinced me, even though the dues were higher than the bisexual one, I think that I made the right career choice.

#ask #anon

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film-in-my-soul · 9 months

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steddie - writer’s choice ❤️

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Writer's Choice - Different First Meetings + Modern/Canon Divergence AU (because I don't want to have the period typical homophobia)

.⋆｡°✩ Steve takes the kids to a local concert and manages to get himself front and center when Corroded Coffin takes the stage. ✩°｡⋆.

Steve is going to kill Dustin. And Lucas, too, for that matter. Max he thinks he can forgive, seeing as she's a full head shorter than most of them and out of all the kids (practically adults now, but if Steve thinks about that for too long he'll want to throw up... or cry), she's the one who'll make sure the rest of the buttheads currently scattered throughout the too dark, overly-crowded concert space don't get themselves into trouble. But the fact remains that Dustin had said he'd stick with Steve if they got closer to the stage, that no one else wanted to go with him, and "C'mon Steve! You want to leave me alone with a bunch of metalheads?" only for Dustin to abandon him!

If there's a saving grace, and it's a marginal one at that, Steve's managed to force himself to the front of the slightly raised platform between the bands changing over so he's far enough away from the mini moshpits that keep breaking out. But it also leaves him closer to the more fanatic audience members who aren't particularly mindful of where they're throwing their elbows, and even with his hearing aid turned off, they're loud, a low chant of "Coffin, Coffin, Coffin!" growing in urgency and volume.

Still, it feels safer to be able to crawl along the stage to escape if he needs to, and Steve can admit to himself that he's not having the worst time. That doesn't mean he's not sending Robin passive-aggressive texts every half hour, seeing as she'd tricked him into being the chaperone. He steadfastly ignores the replies where she calls him out, knowing he would have offered himself up anyway.

He's just about to send her another, maybe even send a selfie of his slowly deflating hair and scowl, when the lights dim almost to the point of total darkness.

There's an immediate hush, and then, when the strobes at the back of the stage flair up, imitating lightning, silhouetting figures that weren't there a moment before, the crowd explodes into a roar. It's almost so intense that Steve's bad ear rings. A fog machine hisses to life from somewhere off the right of the stage, and when a good layer of the smoke has started spilling over the lip of it, ghosting over Steve's knees, the rest of the lights come back on, a mix of neon red and flickering white.

There's a bass line kicking up to match the pattern of the blinks, and something about its low sound matching that visual cue and vibrating Steve from his feet to the top of his head easily fights through the screaming people buddying up to Steve and catches his attention in a not so unpleasant way. The drums follow, and it's effortless to connect the hard hits, higher in pitch and almost imperceptible to Steve's fucked hearing, with the nodding head of the musician responsible for it. And then, like a siren call, a distant wail, a guitar comes to life, and Steve's eyes follow the invisible wave of sound only to stop when-

Holy hell.

Right in front of him, only five feet away, with his leg propped up on a pedal and his wild mane of dark frizzy curls shaking with the rock of his body, is the most gorgeous guy Steve's ever seen.

It could be a trick of the mood lighting, or maybe just the combination of envy-worthy hair and wicked, electric smile, but Steve's pretty sure it's the whole damn package.

The guitarist's in a cut-off tank top, the edges of it tattered and the arms slit so low down his sides that Steve can see the curve of black ink crawling across his ribs. His pants are black and leather, like his boots, and each time he moves, picking out a new cord or riff, the flash of the silver jewelry adorning his fingers, chunky, eye-catching rings, is a beacon for Steve to track. He looks like some 80's hard rocker transported right into the twenty-first century with the sole mission to remind everyone why they included 'Sex' in the phrase 'Sex & Drugs & Rock 'n Roll' and from the way he moves, large and confident, throwing off winks and grins, he knows it.

Some of the girls around Steve sound like they're crying, sobbing out the name 'Eddie,' and given that they only get louder when the guitarist swings his hips and hair in their general direction, Steve guesses that's the guy's name.

A lot of the music fades with his attention so readily captured, but Steve likes this band more than the one before, and not just because he has to check if he's drooling when Eddie drops to his knees halfway through a song for a ridiculously attractive guitar solo. The bass is hard, and it's not just senseless thrashing. There's an occasional mellowness to the musical breaks, and the lyrics are followable. It's still not Steve's kind of sound, but dumb as he is about metal music, he knows these guys are good.

There are a few moments where Steve thinks his and Eddie's eyes meet, where one of those winks or blown kisses might be for him. He's still right against the stage, but Steve likes to think he's gotten a grip on his habit of wishful thinking and shrugs it away. He tells himself it's the blonde with the big rack screaming herself shrill just behind his shoulder that's getting all the attention he kind of wants just for himself.

Steve can tell the end of their set is coming up because somehow the energy in the crowd grows tenfold, and there's a new rocking of bodies where every other note of the song currently howling from the amps bumps Steve up against the platform, harder and harder each time. Something's coming. He doesn't know what, couldn't even guess, but the atmosphere is ratcheting to positively feral levels as he's jerked left and right but managing to keep his feet planted. And when the drum solo kicks in, starting soft but growing into a steady crescendo, Steve's proven corrected.

The audience behind him gives one heaving shove, and he trips forward, barely catching himself on the lip of the stage with his palms but nearly smacking his face on it all the same. He curses under his breath and shakes the disorientation from his head when he realizes someone is right in front of him. Steve follows the leather-clad knee up to a leather-clad thigh to a black cut-off tank top until his gaze plants itself right on the smirking mouth of Eddie, the guitarist.

The drums are still going, still rising in intensity like the crowd that's becoming distant white noise to Steve the longer Eddie doesn't move away. Steve doesn't even realize that Eddie's getting closer until there's a hand cupping his cheek, a thumb pressed to the dip of his chin, and his face is tipped up.

"Careful there, big boy," Steve thinks is what Eddie says, mostly reading his still sharply amused lips, and then he's not thinking much of anything because the cymbals of the drums crash, and Eddie is kissing him.

It's deep and messy and so full of blatant showmanship that it's mostly gross. It also has Steve's toes curling and a startled sort of moan forcing itself from his chest. It's quick also. Too quick if he's being honest. He doesn't even get a chance to close his eyes and feel it before Eddie separates from him with a wet pop and before jumping right back into the music.

He blows a kiss right at Steve and punctuates it with a hard-strummed chord on his guitar. Then he's gone, leaving Steve in a momentarily senseless vacuum until the room comes pouring back into his brain, and he's forced to acknowledge the people shaking him in some weird display of congratulations.

Steve's not sure how he's supposed to feel, but he thinks the next time Eddie throws a grin his way, he won't be as quick to dismiss it as being for him.

Ficlet Bingo!

#steddie #steve/eddie #stranger things ficlet #steddie ficlet #ficlet #got a little carried away with this one

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bodyswappertransforming · 2 months

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Delivery

Section 2: A New Sensation

With a flick of his lighter, Austin ignited the end of the cigar, watching as the flame danced along the edges. The scent of tobacco filled the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. As he took that first puff, he felt a rush of warmth spreading through his body, accompanied by a sense of confidence that he hadn't experienced before.

The act of smoking the cigar made him feel suave and sophisticated, a sense of allure enveloping him like a fine mist. With each draw, he savored the rich flavor and the thick clouds of smoke that swirled around him, feeling as though he had stumbled upon a hidden world of pleasure.

In that moment, Austin felt a transformation taking place within him. He felt a newfound sense of masculinity, as if the act of smoking the cigar was elevating him to a higher level of manhood. With each exhale, he felt a sense of empowerment wash over him, a feeling of being in control of his own destiny.

In the haze of smoke and sensation, Austin couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. He felt sexy, desirable, as if he were tapping into a primal part of himself that had long been dormant. With each puff of the cigar, he felt himself growing bolder, more assertive, more confident in his own skin. It was a feeling unlike any other, and one that he was eager to explore further.

Section 3: Embracing the Transformation

As the weeks passed and the box of cigars dwindled, Austin found himself marveling at the change that had overtaken him. It was hard to believe that just a month ago, he had never smoked a single cigar, and now here he was, nearing the end of his tenth.

With each puff, he felt a new sense of swagger, a confidence that seemed to radiate from within. He stood a little taller, spoke a little louder, and carried himself with a newfound sense of authority. The dizziness from the nicotine was now familiar, almost comforting in its intensity.

Driven by his growing curiosity and sense of adventure, Austin delved into the world of cigars, researching different brands, flavors, and styles. He became a connoisseur, developing a discerning palate and a keen eye for quality.

But it wasn't just cigars that captured his interest. As he began to embrace his newfound passion, Austin found himself exploring other aspects of his identity as well. He started to think about his personal style, experimenting with different clothing choices and grooming habits in an effort to fully embody the confident, sophisticated man he was becoming.

It was during this period of self-discovery that another delivery arrived at his door, interrupting his musings. Curious, Austin opened the package to find yet another surprise waiting for him, a tantalizing hint of the adventures that lay ahead.

#cigar transformation #mental change #bodyswap #male tf #cigar kink #leather kink #leather man

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ruhua-langblr · 5 months

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Holiday Gifts for Language Learners~

Here are some ideas for language learning enthusiasts this holiday season!

(Some specific examples will be focused on Chinese/Korean as the target language. None of the links are affiliate links. amazon is linked to out of convenience, but there are usually other places that these things can be purchased at!)

Books!

There's a lot of textbooks out there that approach language learning from different perspectives. Textbooks can often be expensive, so checking out used book stores is a great idea! I really enjoy Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar and this used copy in very good condition is so much cheaper than the original price! Also, TTMIK's latest books are currently on sale!

While on the subject of books, there are so many options for reading in foreign language! For lower level learners, graded readers are a great choice as you can find books at your current level that can grow with you! For example Tales and Traditions has four volumes of short stories and myths in Chinese, with each volume increasing in difficulty. Abridged Classics like this series from Sinolingua Press or this Journey to the West series.

For advanced learners, buying novels in your target language is also a great choice! Soo and Carrots has collected Korean novels recommended by members of BTS.

2. iTalki!

I've been using iTalki for the past couple months and I've really enjoyed it! It's great to learn from a native speaker now that I'm out of a classroom environment, but still actively pursuing a higher degree of Chinese as well as starting Korean. They have a lot of deals on packages and prices vary between teachers, so it's easy to find something in your budget! I do have a code for $5 (AC6AGf0) for new users.

3. Notetaking!

For traditional notetaking, I think these translucent sticky notes are great for taking notes that aren't a hassle to erase, while still showing the text that you're commenting on! I also love to put relevant stickers on my notebooks. Lots of fun options like 我不知道，加油 salamander, 자고 싶어, many Korean words of encouragement,and the Ted Cruz meme 这个人吃了我的儿子。

Digital notetakers might enjoy this goodnotes journal! It's highly customizable to whatever language you might be learning. I have two versions of it in my goodnotes, and each uses different pages for Korean and Chinese. Goodnotes itself is also a great gift if you want to upgrade from free or a yearly subscription to total ownership!

4. Language Learning Apps/Sites!

I try to work within the free world as much as possible, but there are some things worth paying for! Reading apps for Chinese like Du Chinese, or my favorite, Readibu are super helpful! Readibu is free, but the paid option has a lot of great features!

Also for those missing TTMIK after they added a paywall to a lot of content, a membership to their courses would be great!

5. Movies and TV!

Besides the benefit of immersion, learning a language is also about learning another culture. Right now the Criterion Collection is 50% off at B&N until December 4th!

For TV, getting a subscription to a site like Viki or iQiYi is a great gift as they have new shows from many asian countries!

#langblr #mandarinblr #gift ideas

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cinnamoncountess · 4 months

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Fellow Travelers Rewatch Party | episode 1

Content warning: NSFW, strong language (likely)

This will be mostly a reaction and based on observations, given the knowledge about how things will unfold in later episodes.

What a perfectly beautiful way to start a show! The song flows amazingly with the cinematography and it encloses around the viewer like a warm hug, simultaneously delivers an underlying sadness, the lyrics preparing us of what lies ahead, a tragic love story that yearns to end happily, but won’t. It sets the mood and gently announces with a toe-deep dive that we’re about to journey backwards into a different decade. I love it! <3 (song: Stevie Wonder - If It’s Magic)

Marcus drives down the sophisticated suburban lane to meet Hawk in his perfectly cultivated family nest to hand over the package, according to Tim’s wishes. It’s sweet to know that he supports and protects Tim, because - as we find out later - he knows Hawk and his shenanigans the best.

Promotion party! Lucy and Hawk certainly know lots of people. Also, how many grandchildren do they have? I’d assume the other kids are probably the children their guests brought to the party, playmates of his granddaughter, right? No, wait, Lucy says „grandkids“ - so there are more than one?

Lucy: The grandkids are going to miss Hawk so much when we got to Milan. I don’t know what Kimberly’s going to do. - Hawk’s a beloved granddad.

Hawk: Well, she’ll ship them over in the diplomatic pouch. - The sass and wit never ceases.

Lucy: I almost gave up my dream of moving to Italy with the man I love.

Hawk: In the end, sh settled for going with me. - OH. The foreshadowing, the ambiguity. The HURT. For BOTH of them. My heart.

Did we ever find out how and when Lucy got to meet Marcus, though?

Marcus is sooo distressed about the AIDS situation killing all his friends, his beloved ones around him. I want to hug him!

Marcus: Tim doesn’t want to hear from you. He asked me to make that clear. - It’s another verbalisation of ‚Promise you won’t write’, Tim might have been hoping to hear from Hawk. Then again, of course Tim made sure Hawk will receive the paperweight. It’s the same ‚message‘ that Hawk delivered to him when he left it as a gift before betraying him - to let go. Tim wants to let go.

Flashback to 1952!

Tim ordering a glass of milk, almost snapping at Hawk for questioning his beverage of choice.

The beginning of the milk odyssey…

What a beautifully shot scene, the lighting, the music / score, the switch between scenes, paralleling the scenes between society conform married life of a ‚straight’ man and cruising through park bathrooms - the double life of Hawkins Fuller and preparing us for what lies ahead, truly marvellous.

I think that’s the roughest and most mechanical, unemotional sex we’ll see in the show. Hawk literally punches Eddie like a donkey.

Hawk: Milton. But my friends call me ‚uncle Milty‘ - Cracking up. Hawk, be serious.

Hawk doesn’t care about your little life, Eddie. He got what he wanted. He doesn’t give him his number. Important detail since that’s the first information he receives from Tim, already going one step further than he does with Eddie here.

The small „:|“ glance Mary and Hawk share in reaction to Miss Addison’s disapproval of commies, only the eyeroll and irritated sigh missing. Love Hawk’s and Mary’s interactions and friendship overall, so entertaining how they’ll constantly talk ambiguously.

Tim and Hawk first meeting at the park!

Tim: I have a degree in political science and history. I think I should aim a little higher, don’t you? - Oh, baby, you should! Too bad he’s never got to indulge in a profession that fits his education. But then again, maybe it’s for the best that reoriented his career and found a better path for himself, for his eagerness to be politically vocal! He still became a spokesman.

Tim flusters as Hawk inquires him about memorising his biographical entry! His reaction is sooo endearing. He’s already so smitten.

The banter between them!

Hawk: Down boy. - And so the dynamic starts.

Hawk: Perfect. I’ll spend the afternoon picturing you kneeling in prayer. - Pants flew to the moon, ovaries and peepees exploded!

Smith: Your plan, me in the White House in eight years. - Hawk intending to ‚manipulate‘ his mentor’s career, making him president.

Tim and his little cupboard where he hangs his very few white socks and pants. D: Also, he is a plant person! In this apartment as well as in his 80s one he own quite a bunch of greens.

Jean: … could stand to improve his spelling. You’ll have to do this one again. - Is Tim dyslexic?

The book Tim bestows Hawk with, as a present for getting the job is titled ‚Look Homeward, Angel.‘ Angel. Skippy, in the book apparently, is derived from an angel’s name. So maybe that’s Hawk’s inspiration in the show?

Hawk visits Tim for the first time and wants to take him out for dinner! So much to the ‚we NEVER eat in restaurants!‘-complaint in episode 3. Hawk wanted to take him out to a restaurant before. <3

Tim is very, VERY drastic in his political views, which is a bit concerning, but also understanding, given the historical context.

Hawk asking for consent before lifting Tim to his feet and undressing him, love it.

Tim showing Hawk the family photo album.

Tim: This is uncle Ronald, the drunken designated hopeless sinner of the family.

Hawk: I think you’re giving uncle Ron a run for that title.

Tim: Thanks to you… - and the little smirk, I can’t.

Mary: How are you enjoying ‚Look Homeward, Angel‘?

Hawk: Immensely. Although I have trouble finishing a book before I wanna start another. - he says while he eye-flirts with the next guy standing closeby, oh Hawkins.

Eddie making a scene out in the open, in the hallway…That is very, very awkward and risky and Eddie should know that, not a clever move. I feel for him, for what happens to him later on, but he had it coming, unfortunately. He should’ve let it go when Hawk made clear he doesn’t want further contact during their encounter and then clearly signifies he doesn’t recognize him. It’s like having an ONS or anonymous sex, the rules about how this will go and what it entails are set.

Tim toe-sucking bj-ing himself to the fancy party is still wonderful and he must’ve done a spectacular job to convince Hawk. Also, he’s wearing Hawk’s coat here. Wonder if they acted out the little monologue and Tim really went there with the taste of him in his mouth.

Alsop: My wife says the aroma is somewhat reminiscent of feet. I can promise you it tastes perfectly marvellous. - This is a very feet-heavy episode.

Lucy and Hawk share such entertaining banter moments, I wish they could’ve stayed just really good friends, without all the heartbreak and pain.

Bringing up Lucy is a red rag to Hawk, but Tim just can’t help it. These two have severely different perspectives on life at this point and Hawk told Tim multiple times that he can’t give him what he wants, the life he dreams of, that they can just enjoy these occasional moments of fun together, which of course isn’t enough for Tim, who craves for everything straight couples have, to date his partner openly. It’s not possible in this environment and Tim acts very stubborn and naive here. He is also constituting a great risk for Hawk, who doesn’t shove him away just yet, which is surprising, giving what we’ve seen of him and how cautious he wants to be, leaving no traces endangering his career.

After hearing McCarthy’s speech it’s actually so disturbing and irritating to know that Tim holds onto this man’s ideals so firmly.

Shout out to the beautifully nuanced OST created by Paul Leonard-Morgan.

And that’s it for this episode.

#fellow travelers #fellow travelers rewatch party

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thatfanfictionchick · 5 months

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I like WHB, okay. I also have several points that I strongly dislike. The biggest is how they have decided to carry out rate-up banners for L cards.

Now WHB has several types of currency. The gachas use Greater(gold) keys and Lesser(red) keys. Oddly, the Greater keys are used in the standard gacha where you easily obtain low level devils and items, and the Lesser keys are used in the premium gacha where you have a higher chance of obtaining high level devils and items.

Then there are red guilty gems, another currency, that you can use to trade for keys and other items. But you can't exactly buy red gems: you have to buy blue guilty gems then exchange them 1:1 for red gems, which you then trade. You'll get a handful of red gems with most blue gem purchases.

Now, regular gacha pulls cost 5 keys for 1x or 50 keys for 10x. Premium pulls are 3 keys for 1x or 30 for 10x.

But for some reason L-card rate-up banners cost at least ten times as much as the regular gacha.

A single pull costs 50 and a ten pull is 500. And that's not even the worst of it!

As you can see, L-card rate-up banners don't use any of the already in-game currencies. So those keys? Mean nothing. The guilty gems? Mean nothing. No, instead these banners use Solomon's Seals. And there is only one way of obtaining the seals.

You have to purchase them with money. There is no other way to get them. The seals themselves are already a bizarre choice, because in every other gacha game I've ever played there is some form of gem that is the premium currency and that is what is used for events like this. You can't even exchange the gems for the seals, which is, to put it bluntly, pretty fucked.

But wait! There's more!

The cheapest set to purchase for Solomon's Seals costs $7.99(+tax). Given the fact that you have to use these seals in the banner and you have to buy them because they cannot be obtained any other way and they cannot be used for anything else, I would expect to get like, 1-3 ten-pulls for 8 bucks.

One ten-pull being the minimum, since there's a chance you'll have to do 22 of them to get one card! So if $8 gets you 1 ten-pull, and you end up doing 22 pulls for one card, there's a possibility you could end up spending $176(tax not included)! Now obviously the math changes if you spring for more expensive packages, which would make the most sense to do since the amount of seals you get increases.

But no. Noooooo no no no no.

Eight bucks gets you four single pulls. Four. Not a ten pull! Not even half a ten pull! And why the fuck would they math it like that??

$65 dollars only gets you 44 pulls. The insanity is real, my dudes.

Anyway the point is the way PrettyBusy has chosen to do some of these things is asinine. This, the way they fumbled handling the changes to the reward system, the way they changed the exchange amounts for critical leveling items with no notice, the insane battle-to-story stage ratio that makes the game an unpleasant grind to advance in, my continued bitterness that they told us they'd give us items to skip the battle stages and still haven't delivered.....

'What in Hell is Bad' is essentially pay-to-play. It's barely hanging onto free-to-play status on account of a toe getting jammed in the rocks when they tried to dive to the whales. I remain here on horny power alone.

#what in hell is bad #whb #I'm ranting okay #I'm actually surprised after how bad the backlash was the first time that they've kept this model

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tarotwithavi · 2 years

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lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 11 months

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Hi👋♡.

May I request one-shots Serafine Savoy and Nico Savoy with teen fem!Reader (Platonic) the Reader is a delivery girl she helps them all the time and of course they have to get her something for her hard work she do for them.

[ money maybe?]

{Love your blog by the way♡}.

Don't know how this turned into a spin-off, cat episode of something that feels straight out of Peaky Blinders, but here you go!

Get a job, Mother said. The world is changing and girls need to pull their weight, just how I did during the Great War.

However, when Y/N finally got one of course she wasn't too happy.

"An unpaid delivery girl? You could have aimed slightly higher, especially with that mind of yours."

Well, perhaps she wouldn't have been so picky if she realized her daughter didn't have much of a choice in the matter. No one accidentally ran into a criminals hunting ground and got out completely unscathed, in reputation or otherwise. Her own price to pay was becoming an uncompensated errand girl for a couple of no good kitties with sharp gazes, smiles and knives. A lot of knives, and guns too.

The option to refuse wasn't really on the table. That was a couple of months ago now.

Maybe Y/N should have realized sooner something about her job was shadier than she first thought. At first there seem to be nothing amiss. Y/N was asked to post letters, carry tattered and lightly but suspiciously stained clothes to and from the tailors. Small things she had no problem doing for free. They weren't too out of the way either; most of the shops and post boxes were on her way to school.

Her suspicions only really started when she was sent to pick up a suspicious-looking package from a derelict riverside cafe. It was just the one, and she delivered it without a hitch. Looking back she probably should have failed to do so; it would have certainly avoided the fear and stress that came when she was sent on a similar errand the week after.

Then it became every three days and sometimes even twice in one.

Mother was right: Y/N had a good head on her shoulders. She didn't need to peek into the boxes to know what she was carrying was less than legal. She was also well aware that if anything happened to the cargo inside she'd be dead, but she was also smart enough to know she could hand it over to the cops at any time. Who knows, she could end up taking down a major crime ring in St. Louis. She could become a hero!

Or…

She could beat her generously-loaded employers at their own game.

Y/N burst into the hotel suite, waving the letter high in her hand. "Delivery!"

The cloud of smoke hanging around the divans parted, and a carefully manicured, clawed hand beckoned her closer. "Merci, now give it here, cher."

For once, Y/N stayed put. "No."

"No?" The hand cleared the rest of the fog, and Miss Savoy's amber eye watched her, widening.

Those stares didn't scare Y/N anymore, not after working for them for months. She even took a step back. "No."

"Elle se prend pour qui?" Miss Savoy's brother growled, raising himself up from his seat. His cigarette hung limply from the corner of his mouth.

"Nico, laisse-la," Miss Savoy tutted. "Elle a du culot, c'est presque impressionnant."

"I'd like it if you didn't talk behind my back," Y/N bit out.

"And we'd like it if you hand over the letter like the good girl we know you can be."

Again, Y/N held it out of reach. "And I'd like to be compensated."

"Your compensation is us not killin' you for messin' up our gig," Nico pointed out.

"You gangstas might want to think of marking your territory better so a teenager doesn't fuck you up."

"She swears too."

They seemed almost surprised. Y/N decided to skip the rest of the pleasantries.

"Money."

"What?"

"I want money."

Nico and Serafine looked at each other. Then, he smirked. She grinned. They both fell about laughing, leaving a confused Y/N to ping-pong between them and scowl.

"What's so funny?"

They only replied to each other in quick snippets of French she couldn't understand.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"T'as perdu, c'est toi qui paye," Serafine smirked to her brother, again ignoring Y/N's questions.

Nico rolled his eyes and rummaged around in a nearby tin. "Bien joué…"

He held out a wad of cash—and by god it was more than she had ever seen in her life! He was essentially offering her her own small fortune, most of it likely made of blood money.

She didn't take it right away. "What's all this about?"

Nico shook the money in front of her eyes. "Bettin' to see how long it'd take you to man up and ask."

Y/N was dumbfounded. "Ask?"

"For payment."

So, they were saying everything she had done for free, every risk and every broken law…

"All I had to do was ask?!"

Nico cracked a sickening grin. "Yes, cher."

Yes. That was all he said, the only confirmation. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout, she wanted to take that rifle off the wall and—

She snatched up the money with a frown, shooting daggers from her eyes. She handed over the letter. "I hate you both."

Nico's grin softened. "Hate you too," he said with no real conviction or the previous bit she knew he could give.

Almost as if he was trying to be her friend.

They could try all they liked, but they wouldn't get far.

Not now.

#🦉mod iphiko #lackadaisy #lackadaisy reader insert #lackadaisy & reader #nicodeme savoy #lackadaisy nico #nicodeme lackadaisy #serafine savoy #lackadaisy serafine #oneshot on the rocks #oneshot #aaaaah I'm burning myself out #let's gooo... :')

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