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dduane · 6 months

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The Young Wizards series turns 40!

...And yes, we're having a sale to celebrate. But that can wait. :)

I'm sitting here looking at the date and considering how amazing it is that, despite the changes in the publishing world, anything can stay in print nonstop for forty years.

But this book has. Here's how it started:

...Well, not how it started. It started with three things:

A newbie YA writer being deeply annoyed with a non-newbie one for (as she thought) stripping their teenage characters of their agency without good reason.

A suddenly-appearing joke involving two terms or concepts that wouldn't normally appear together: the 1950s young-readers' series of careers books with titles that always began So You Want To Be A..., and the word "wizard."

And the idea immediately springing from that juxtaposition. What if there was such a book? Not a careers book, but a book that told you how to be a wizard—maybe some kind of manual? One that would tell you the truth about the magic underlying the universe, and how to get your hands on it... assuming you felt you could promise the things that power would demand of you, and survive the Ordeal that would follow?

Six or seven months after that confluence of events, there was a novel with that joke-line as its title. A month or so after that, the novel was bought. So You Want To Be A Wizard came out as a Fall 1983 book, as you can see from the Locus Magazine ad above (from back when Locus was only a paper zine). The first reviews were encouraging.

And by the middle of 1984, the publishers were asking, "So, what's next?" A question I'm still busy answering.

There's been a lot of water under the wizardly bridge since. In SYWTBAW's case, this involved a couple/few publishers, a surprising number of covers, a fair number of awards here and there; and lots more books. (I always knew there'd be more, but how many more continues to surprise me. Which is a bit funny, considering how much stuff that universe has going on in it.)

So here we are at forty, and looking ahead to The Big Five-Oh with some interest. More books? Absolutely. Young Wizards #11 is in progress at the moment, and YW #12 is in the late concept stages. More covers for So You Want To Be A Wizard? Seems inevitable. A TV series, perhaps? (shrug) Stranger things have happened: we'll keep our fingers (or other manipulatory instrumentalities) crossed. The New Millennium Editions in translation? and in international paperback? Working on that right now. The sky's the limit.*

And meanwhile, to celebrate, just for today we'll have a sale. (Except in the UK. To our British friends, the usual sad apology: the expensive bureaucracy of Brexit has made it impossible for us to sell directly to you any more. Details here, with our apologies.)

As has been mentioned before, changes are afoot at Ebooks Direct, so this kind of sale won't be happening again for the foreseeable future. (In fact I thought we were all done with them already. But the number 40 suggested one last opportunity that wouldn't be recurring, so I thought, "Aah, what the heck? Let's.")

New things first! Today, to mark this occasion, we're introducing the "All The Wizardry" Bundle. This is Ebook Direct's entire inventory of Young Wizards works; the contents of the bundle are listed on its product page. The $29.99 price listed there is for today only, to celebrate SYWTBAW's birthday, and will go up as of 23:59 Hawai'ian time tonight. As always, should you ever lose your ebooks or need to change reading platforms, we'll change your formats as necessary, or replace the books, for free.

Just click here, or on the image below, for the "All The Wizardry" Bundle. (Please ignore the category listings under the "Pay Using..." icons on the product page: they plainly think they're in a different universe. Kind of an occupational hazard around here...)

The other, older kind of sale folks will have seen here is on the "I Want Everything You've Got" Bundle, which is the whole Ebooks Direct store—obviously including all the Young Wizards books as well: more than 2.5 million words in 36 DRM-free ebooks. Just for today, in honor of the birthday book, we're dropping the whole-store price to USD $40.00. This, too, will go away just before midnight Hawai'ian time tonight... and it will never be lower. So if you want everything we've got at that price, don't wait around.

Make sure you use this link or the one associated with the image to get the baked-in discount at checkout. (If it fails to display correctly, use the discount code "40FOR40" in the checkout's "discount code or gift code" field.)

Meanwhile? Onward into the next decade. The new A Day at the Crossings novel unfortunately won't make it out before the end of 2023; other work in-house currently has taken priority. But as for early 2024... stay tuned.

And for those of you who're Young Wizards readers, and have kept this book, and its sequels, alive for pushing half a century?

Thank you, again and always!

*Though actually, it's not, is it? As the proverb has it, "Wizardry doesn't stop at atmosphere's edge..."

#Young Wizards series #Young Wizards meta #So You Want To Be A Wizard #ebooks #Diane Duane

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darkcircles4lyfe · 11 days

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it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

#lin speaks #bnha meta #bnha manga #bnha 419 #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk

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heli-writes · 14 days

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A dragon's heart, part 10.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of forceful behaviour towards women, bad family dynamics

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Sorry, folks! No smut yet, I need some more time to build up the right moment!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's silly to cry about this, isn't it? No, yeah, it's definitely not silly.

Y/n rubs her eyes. She's standing lost in the abandoned tent in the middle of the pieces of Katsuki's tantrum. Slowly, she starts picking up the things Katsuki has thrown across the room.

It will be alright. You can trust Katsuki. Whatever happened today, it's not your fault and Katsuki knows that. He might get irritated easily but he's not unreasonable.

When y/n is done picking up the pieces of the destroyed chair, she's unsure what to do next. She decides to scrub off the paint in the stone hut. There's only cold water this time but y/n grinds her teeth and scrubs it all off. Afterward, she feels a little bit like herself again.

Back in the tent, she loses the clothes as well. She looks for her dress but she can't find it. This upsets her more than it should. After all, it's just a piece of fabric, she tells herself. Then again, it was her mother's dress. The last thing that connected her with her people.

My bag!, she thinks and looks for it where she dropped it the night before. She finds it next to the bed. She dumps the contents on the bed and looks at the things she's brought along. She takes the small knife and strokes over the carvings in the wooden handle. Her father made it for her for her twelfth birthday. He wanted to paint it one day, but he passed before he ever got the chance.

She remembers her father. He was a kind but firm man. He believed in the way of their people. Y/n remembers how he used to take her and her brother to a meadow in the middle of a summer night. He showed the kids how the fireflies light up when you run through the grass. He dared them to catch one and when they did, he explained to them how every creature was created by the great being of things and therefore should be treated with respect. He made y/n let go of the fireflight she caught and they watched as it disappeared into the night sky.

Y/n clutches the knife. She didn't notice how tears slipped down her cheeks. Quickly, she brushes them away. She shakes her head. Thinking about this, won't change the present. Carefully, she places the things back into her bag and hides it beneath the bed, so that they won't be taken away again like her dress.

She slips out of the skimpy clothes she was put into this morning and puts on the clothes Katsuki gave her yesterday. Also, she wraps a blanket around her since she's planning to go outside. I'm going to look for Katsuki, she determines.

~*~*~*~*~

It's strange walking around the village without Katsuki by her side. Y/n feels a lot more vulnerable without him. Again, there are only men outside the tents and they give her strange looks. She's sure they are talking about her, too.

She tries to shake the thought off when she slips in between two tents to get out of sight. Suddenly, a cold hand grabs her arm.

„A-are you new? When did they bring you in?“, a scared female voice says next to her.

Y/n feels instant relief. Finally, someone who understands her! And a woman too! She turns around to the voice and is instantly stunned.

There's a woman standing at the entrance of a tent. She's about y/n's height. The woman is pale as if she barely sees the sunlight. She looks sickish in a haggard way. Her state is nothing but alarming to y/n.

„Yes, I am. I just arrived yesterday. Are-“, y/n tells her and before y/n can ask her if she's alright, the woman's grip on her arm tightens.

„Did he do it already? The man that took you? Is he near? Is he looking for you?“, the woman asks frantically. There is fear in her eyes.

„Uhm, what do you mean?“, y/n replies uncertainly.

„You need to get away!“, the woman tells her, now grabbing both of y/n's arms. „If he hasn't taken you, you might still have a chance!“

The woman's eyes are ripped open widely and y/n can see how bloodshot they are. She mustn't have slept for days. Y/n tries to wiggle out of the woman's hold.

„I-i'm fine. Thanks for your concern, but-“, y/n tries to shake her off.

„Nadia!“, a voice barks from the side y/n came from. A big, bulky man walks their way. His face looks angry. He continues to speak loudly in his language. The woman winces and lets go of y/n. She quickly retreats back into the tent, leaving y/n alone outside.

The man gives y/n a glance before disappearing into the tent. His loud voice can be heard in the inside. By the tone of his voice, he must be scolding the woman. Y/n isn't sure if that's her cue to disappear like the woman said.

Eventually, the man comes back outside. He doesn't look as angry as before anymore. He says something to y/n that she doesn't understand.

„U-uhm, I'm a friend of Katsuki, I guess. Do you know where he is?“, she asks him and the man looks annoyed. He throws his arms into the air in frustration and rambles something to himself.

Y/n straightens her posture a bit at tells him in a determined voice: „Katsuki“.

The man gives her an uncertain look. Then he grabs her shoulder and makes a gesture to follow him. Y/n does so. The man drags her through half of the village, stopping here and there to talk to people. Y/n can hear the word „Katsuki“ quite often, so she guesses he is asking around where Katsuki is. Eventually, the man makes her walk quite a while outside of the settlement and y/n starts doubting her decision to follow him. What if the woman was right? What if that guy really has something bad on his mind?

The man leads her into a small gorge. Y/n can see how smoke rises from the inside, so she guesses humans must be there as well.

Turns out her guess was kind of wrong. The deeper they get into the gorge, the more clearly it becomes what lives her: dragons. When the first comes into sight, y/n walks a bit closer to the man in front of her. More and more dragons come into sight. Golden ones, blue ones, green ones. Y/n thinks the deep black ones look the scariest. She tries to avoid eye contact with all of them. Also, she wonders if Katsuki's great red one is here. Actually, she'd be really relieved to see the great red one again right now. At least one familiar face, or snout, around here.

The man leads her all the way in, where a small fire is lit. More men sit around it drinking and laughing.

The men cheer and gesture for the man to join him but he declines with a wave of his hand. He says something to them and y/n hears Katsuki's name again. She peeks behind the man and sees Katsuki sitting among the men around the fire. When Katsuki spots her, he immediately gets up.

Katsuki exchanges a few words with the man before said man turns around to leave. Katsuki grabs her shoulder and gives her an angry look. Seems as if he's not too happy that I'm here, y/n thinks.

The men laugh and say something to Katsuki to which he gives them a snarky reply. Katsuki leads her to the fire and motions for her to sit down. Y/n does so and wraps the blanket around her a little bit more tight. The man called Kirishima asks Katsuki something and points at y/n. Katsuki shrugs indifferently.

Kirishima fills a mug with something that's been brewing over the fire and hands the mug to y/n. Y/n takes a sniff. It's definitely alcohool. She takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised.

„Mead!“ she exclaims. The men cheer and raise their cups to her. Y/n does so too and takes another sip. The mead is sweet and rich in her mouth.

Kirishima laughs and says something to her. Y/n smiles. Somehow, this feels comfortable. Like when her people sat around the fire at night drinking some hot mead to keep warm. It's the time when stories and memories are shared. Y/n decides there's no harm in sharing a memory of her own, even if these strange men won't understand her.

„You know“, she tells Kirishima, „My aunt used to make mead together with my father“. Kirishima takes another sip from his cup while listening.

„Of course, you need honey for that.“, y/n continues, „So my aunt and my dad went to the woods to find wild honey for their mead. Unfortunately for them, there also was a bear looking for honey too. When my aunt saw the bear, she screamed so loudly that even the bear was frightened, and in his shock, the bear knocked down the bee nest. Of course, the bee attacked my aunt and my dad and they ran home to our camp, screaming the entire way. I've never heard my father scream like that. Like a little girl.“

Y/n is giggling at the end of the story and has to wipe the side of her eye. When she's done, she notices that the rest of the men fell silent and were watching her intently. Suddenly, she's a bit embarrassed for rambling out a story like that.

„Anyways“, she says and raises her cup, „Cheers!“. Quickly she takes another sip and the men start laughing. Y/n feels incredibly embarrassed. A few of the men clap Katsuki's back who also looks embarrassed. Y/n lowers her head. She didn't want to embarrass Katsuki with her stupid story.

Suddenly, she feels Katsuki slide closer to her. He puts an arm around her tucking her safely into his side. Y/n peers up at him. He keeps his eyes fixed on his peers and y/n snuggles a bit deeper into his side. At least he doesn't seem mad now anymore. She keeps slurping her mead until it's empty. Also, she surely feels the buzz. This mead is a lot stronger than the one her aunt and father brewed.

She watches Katsuki for a while who also seems to be done with his cup. Eventually, she pulls at one of his necklaces trying to get his attention. Katsuki lets go of her and looks down at her. He mumbles something which y/n guess is something like a „what?“. She should write that word down later.

„Where's your dragon?“, she asks him. When Katsuki's brows only furrow, she points at a dragon and says „Dragon?“ and then points at him. It seems as if a light goes up in Katsuki's head. He says something to his men and then gets up taking y/n's hand. They leave the fire together and Katsuki leads her to a cave entrance. He gestures for her to stay behind him and y/n does as she's told. The last thing she wants is to wake up an angry dragon. She peeks behind Katsuki and sees the enormous form of the great red right in front of them. Katsuki gestures for her to step beside him.

„Drami“, Katsuki tells her and y/n looks at him uncertainly. Is that the word for dragon in his language?

„Drami.“, y/n repeats and the great red raises its head. Y/n watches with wide eyes how the dragon moves its big head and nudges Katsuki.

„Oi!“, Katsuki exclaims and tries to push the dragon away. Y/n has to giggle at the sight. Is this how she looks when she tries to push Katsuki away but he doesn't move at all?

The great red notices her as well and moves towards her. Fear strikes her even though she knows that the beast probably won't hurt her. The dragon nudges her as well but in contrast to Katsuki, y/n wasn't prepared for the force of the nudge. She stumbles and falls over. There's a grumbling sound in the dragon's throat and she's sure the beast is laughing at her.

„Hey!“, she complaints and sits up.

Suddenly, there are whistling sounds in the air. Then, y/n gets attacked by all sides. Little dragons nudges her from all sides. Pulling on her blanket and hair. It's not painful and when the first shock wears off, y/n has to laugh and she tries to push the little dragon off of her. When she looks up, her eyes meet Katsuki's who have a mischievous gleam in it. He laughs at her and y/n sticks out her tongue to him while fending off the lizards around her.

There's a deeper grumble in the air and the dragons let go off y/n. They rush back to the great red. The small ones have the same color as the great red and when they climb onto it, they become invisible. No wonder y/n didn't spot them before. Katsuki chuckles and helps her up.

„That was rude.“, y/n tells him and tries to rearrange her messy hair. Katsuki picks up the blanket and puts it around y/n's shoulders again. He ruffles her hair and says something to the great red. He gestures for y/n to follow him.

„Bye, Drami!“, y/n tells the great red and quickly follows Katsuki outside.

~*~*~*~*~

After Katsuki says goodbye to his men, he walks back to the village with y/n. She looks ridiculous, he thinks. She lost the nice clothes picked out for her and instead carries this ratched blanket around with her. Is she really that cold? Katsuki and his men walk around shirtless half of the time and even the women in his tribe wear more revealing clothes than the women from the kingdom. It makes him wonder if his mother might be right about y/n.

They walk back in silence and Katsuki notices how uncomfortable y/n feels. He can't blame her. She probably hasn't got a clue about what happened earlier today. He wants to feel sorry for her but can't find it in him to do so. She should man up a bit, he thinks to himself. Otherwise, she will never be accepted around here.

Doubt gnaws at the inside of his mind. He's been replaying the conversation with his mother again and again. The truth is that Mitsuki's right. Y/n isn't strong enough for his people. Physically and probably also mentally. She doesn't fit in. Hell, she doesn't even speak their language. Fine, that's something that can be tackled. Actually, Katsuki already decided that he'll send for Deku. That damn scholar can make himself useful and teach y/n their language.

And yet, Katsuki knows that he needs a strong mate by his side. One that stands strongly and proudly next to him as the leader of his people. Having a weak mate and weak offspring does not help his position. In contrast, it might give people a reason to doubt him. And who knows what the future holds.

So far the king Todoroki turned a blind eye to the dragonblood tribe's raid on his grounds. It's easier to let them take a few women than to fight his men. But how long will that go well? Katsuki already got the news that the king is stocking up his army. His tribe can handle a few strikes of retaliation. However, if it escalates to a full-blown war things look differently. The plague already decimated their numbers and with almost no women in the tribe to even out the number, the future looks grim.

His men did little to cheer him up. While they tried to support his choice, they also gave insight into their own homes. Comparing y/n to the few women they've brought home and mated. Denki's mate passed only after a few months. She lost weight rapidly after arriving in the village and one nasty cold later, the woman completely withered away. Not enough time to give him an heir. Kirishima's position is not rosy either. While his mate is still alive, the woman is terrified of him and that even though Kirishima is probably the softest of the bunch. The other men urge him to just take her since the tribe needs children and that's what the women are brought in for but Kirishima is too kind of a man to touch her against her will.

Kirishima doesn't speak it out loud but Katsuki knows how disgusted the man felt about himself after he mated her for the first time. Other men are not as docile as Kirishima. They take their new mates as they see fit. They think that if their new mate doesn't find it in themselves to accommodate the situation, at least they can submit to them and fulfill their duty as a mate.

Katsuki is so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice how they arrived back at his tent. Only when y/n stops walking, he looks up. One of his mother's ladies-in-waiting is standing in front of his tent.

„Your mother wishes to speak to you. She's inside.“, the woman informs him. Katsuki gives her a nod and puts a hand on y/n's lower back pushing her inside.

„What do you want?“, Katsuki asks his mother upon entering the tent. His mother sits on the remaining chair with her arms and legs crossed.

„Did you mate her yet?“, she poses a counterquestion.

„Obviously not.“, Katsuki tells her. He gives y/n a side-eye and he notices how tense the smaller woman got. Clearly, she must fear his mother by now.

His mother rubs her temple.

„Katsuki, I didn't mean to upset you earlier.“, his mother states. Katsuki lets go of y/n and sits down on one of the trunks.

„I know that.“, he mumbles.

Mitsuki watches as her son uses a knife to scratch off dirt from the underside of his shoe. Meanwhile, y/n stands at the entrance of the room feeling absolutely lost. She feels like she shouldn't be here for this conversation. She tries to make eye contact with Katsuki who keeps his focus on his shoes. Mitsuki sighs loudly making y/n flinch.

„Katsuki, I'm glad you want to take on a mate. I've been afraid you'd refuse one completely. I'm just worried about your future, our future.“, Mitsuki points out. Her voice isn't exactly soft but probably as soft as the former chief can be.

Katsuki stabs the trunk with his knife.

„Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm worried, too?“, he barks at her.

Mitsuki gives her son a pointed look.

„I know you are. Which is more the reason why I don't understand... this.“, Mitsuki says and vaguely gestures towards y/n as if she's a piece of furniture rather than a real person standing in the room.

Looking back at it, y/n doesn't know why that was the reason to get her angry but it does. Y/n decides then and there that she doesn't like the woman who clearly is related to Katsuki. Why does she always pretend like I'm not there, y/n thinks. It makes her angry. It's rude. Also, y/n is pretty sure that his woman has nothing nice to say about her.

Katsuki looks at his mother annoyedly.

„What do you want me to say? I've chosen her. Don't you trust my reasons?“, he tells her.

„Do you trust your reasons? Because if you had, wouldn't you have mated her by now?“, Mitsuki strikes back.

Katsuki feels more and more irritated by each passing second.

„That's none of your business. Or do you also plan to check how often I fuck my mate?“, he bites back.

Mitsuki gives him a piqued look and shakes her head in disgust.

„Seriously, Katsuki. What the hell are you thinking?“, Mitsuki asks him.

Katsuki pushes himself off the trunk and ruffles his own hair roughly.

„I don't know, okay? I met her and we connected. I want her.“, he tells his mother.

„Aha, you want her. If you want her, then take her and pass her on, or let her go.“, Mitsuki replies.

Katsuki gives her an angry look.

„She's different from the other women we brought here.“, he tries to argue.

„In how far?“

Katsuki throws his arms up in the air.

„For one, she's not afraid of us or our dragons. Actually, I think Drami might like her. She's a fighter. I saw her fight a bandit with her bare hands. She can hunt, or at least read tracks to a certain degree. She can treat wounds and she picks up on things quite quickly. I'm sure that if that damn Deku teaches her, she will be speaking...“, Katsuki starts to ramble.

„Stop.“, Mitsuki says coldly and holds up a hand.

„I don't need to hear you sing praise to this woman. Nothing you said proves to me that she will be a good mate to you. You describe basic skills that everyone should have. If you think that...“, his mother continues.

„Can I say something about this?“, y/n enters the conversation. She's sick that she's forced to observe from the sidelines, especially considering that this is a conversation that's clearly about her. Y/n doesn't care that neither Katsuki nor this woman understands her. It's time to give both of them a piece of her mind.

Y/n stems her arm into her hips and points at Mitsuki.

„First of all, who do hell do you think that you are? I don't give a shit if you're their queen or something. My people believe that all humans are equals to one another. Therefore I can't stand how you talk about me pretending I'm not there. Secondly, I might not understand what you say but I'm sure you say very mean things about me. Did nobody teach you basic manners? Like seriously, at least have the decency to talk shit about me behind my back. But making me understand what you think of me without speaking my language? Wow, you must really be determined on making me feel like crap.“, y/n tells Mitsuki while holding eye contact with the woman. Mitsuki looks unpleasantly surprised by y/n's outburst.

„And now to you, mister!“, y/n says turning to Katsuki.

„You drag me all the way to your people, make me do stupid ceremonies that I don't understand and then you let his woman humiliate me in front of all of these people? And after all this, you take me back here just to throw a temper tantrum. What are you? Five? I honestly don't give a fuck about what that woman's issue is. What I do care about is how you handle it. And you're not handling it very successfully, dare I say. You're handling it like a manchild. Drinking your problems away with your buddies only to have another argument with her all over again? Seriously, I start to doubt if I made the right choice in trusting you!“, y/n gives Katsuki an earful.

Katsuki stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Y/n takes a deep breath. She straightens her posture.

„That being said, I exclude myself from this conversation.“, she tells Katsuki proudly with her head held high.

Then, she turns around and stomps outside the tent. Mitsuki stares after her just as perplexed as her son does.

Outside, y/n is fuming. This whole situation frustrates her. Because people talk and decide things over her head. Because she has no way to take any form of action. This time, she doesn't cry.

It's time to find that Nadia woman and get some more information out of her, y/n thinks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife @rebel-loves-anime @drink-water-456

@gold24fish @notsaelty

[I think I can't tag anymore people, sorry! Unless anybody knows what I'm doing wrong...]

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takeme-totheworld · 4 months

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You Can't Go Home Again

I'm someone who walked away from my childhood religion almost twenty years ago, and I'm very firmly at a place in my life now where I am very happy to be through with it and have zero lingering desire to go back. I've also been out as some kind of queer person for the same almost-twenty years, and I've been out as trans for almost fifteen of those years.

If you knew absolutely nothing else about me or my life except for those major plot points, and the fact that I'm a Good Omens fan, it would be reasonable to assume that I would identify with Crowley far more than Aziraphale. At least at this point in my life. And in fact, I've seen many fans with backgrounds similar to mine say that they used to be much more like Aziraphale when they were younger, but nowadays they see far more of themself in Crowley. Which makes sense, as a trajectory for people who grew up in controlling religions and then left!

I've been trying to figure out what it is about me that makes me so automatically take Aziraphale's perspective when watching this show, even though the most aggressively Aziraphale time of my life was literal decades ago now. And I think that's probably a very complicated answer, but I realized today that I see an emotional struggle happening in him that I still wrestled with for years and years after leaving the church before I was finally able to completely put it to rest—the struggle to accept that some things can never go back to the way they were.

I seriously suffered so much over this for so long after I left the church. Despite all the damage it had done to me, my entire life had been intertwined with the church and a lot of things that were good—or at least deeply comforting in their familiarity—had also been a part of that. I had plenty of genuinely happy memories all mixed together with the harmful ones (which, in case you were wondering, is confusing as hell). There were fundamental human needs that I had only ever gotten met through the church, and as double-edged as what the church provided was, it was all I knew. Learning to get those needs met in new ways was much healthier, but it wasn't what I had always known growing up and it was a loss.

And I spent a long time refusing to fully accept that going back to any version of Christianity or the church just...wasn't ever going to be in the cards for me.

That is in the cards for some people, I know. Some folks who leave or get kicked out of ultra-dogmatic and controlling churches eventually find new homes in much more progressive and nurturing ones. And that's great! But that was never going to be my path. The process of seeing my childhood religion for what it truly was, losing my beliefs, leaving everything the church was to me further and further behind, and gradually learning who I was without it, changed me too much for me to ever be able to go back again.

I am fine with that now. More than fine. I'm healthier and happier now than I've ever been. Over time I grew into a version of myself that no longer has a church/religion/faith-shaped gaping wound in my life I'm trying to fill. But it was hard and painful and it took a really long time for me to get there. I spent a lot of my twenties and even a bit of my early thirties trying to find something...some new church community that I could be connected to in some way, that would give me back some of what I'd lost when I left my childhood church. But none of them ever did. I was never going to get the same things out of belonging to a church again, because I wasn't the same.

You can't go home again.

I see Aziraphale on that same journey and that's part of what makes my heart automatically go out to him and hurt for him, over and over again. He's still desperately holding onto the idea of a hypothetical version of Heaven and being an angel that can be home again one day. One where all the good things he remembers are still there, and still every bit as good, and all the bad parts have been fixed or gotten rid of, so that being there will be like the old times, only even nicer.

Except that even if he actually succeeded at somehow making Heaven the exact flavor of like-the-old-times-only-even-nicer that he is imagining, it wouldn't matter. Heaven is not his home anymore. He's already changed too much to be able to go back. He just hasn't accepted that yet.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #the final fifteen #religious deconstruction #personal

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harmonysanreads · 8 months

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@harmonysanreads how are you in this fine morning darling💖💖💖💖 the quest in star rail was so fun and epic!! I can't what in store for us in fontaine djddjssjaa.

Also I have several brainrots for the pass days while cleaning the house and organizing my dads file cabinets. Like this I do ballet and just imagine Neuvillette always coming to the theater recitals to watch us dance, also fun bit that we are fontaine's prima ballerina a well known sweetheart of fontaine!! Where all nobles fight and spend lots just to see us dance or invite us to parties to dance!

Just imagine that ballet darling finished her solo in his private booth which is directly in the center that can see everything in the stage just staring at us face stoic but a dark desire in his eyes as he claps calmly. Yan Neuvillette giving her boquets in her dressing room and praising her in front of the people.

But!!!

Ballet dancer darling underneath her sweetness and kidnes prim and proper lifestyle, she enjoys the common things in life like "oh I love the menu today! But can I eat some street foods from liyue or inazuma!" Or "Wow! I love to listen to more rock n roll music!" She's just so humble and can mingle with people lower to her status. But despite her kindness Yan neuvillette sees this as rebellion like you can't expect you to mingle with people with no class...they will influence you and you will developed thier bad habbits.

Yan Neuvillette being ballet dancer darling secret admirer/ courting them, but Ballet dancer darling is just intimidated by him and indulged him due to the fact he gives them gifts, goes to thier shows and is good friend of the family plus his power in fontaine ballet dancer darling just going through it. But if you asked them they'll rathee go undercover and watch lyney and lynette magic shows, hanging out with Charlotte or freminet heck going down to the lower class and perform for them teaching some who wants to learn to dance.

Anything than being in a room full of suffocating rich people who adheres to proper etiquette than being true to your interests because they are not "a proper becoming of a young lady/man" just Ballet dancer reader who wants to experience the common people life than neuvillette formal dates and lessons

KEEP UP WITH THE AMAZING AND WONDERFUL SPECTACULAR WORK 💖💖💖💖💗💗💗💝💝

Wish us luck because fontaine will going to drain my wallet and I'm pulling for blade and dragon dan heng djdndd

Hiii Coco!!

For Yandere!Neuvillette, I don't think he'll outright see your interest in the common lifestyle as rebellion. Initially, he'd be somewhat confused as such interest is not something he usually sees from someone of the upper class. But as he recognizes it to be humility and compassion, he's charmed furthermore. He might even use this knowledge in his courting and news flash! The Chief Justice of Fontaine is interested in charity and is donating millions of mora to the lower class? Furina is thoroughly amused and her teasings just worsen. Oh well, if he succeeds in wooing you then enduring it all will be worth it. Neuvillette tries and he really gives it his all to win your heart ‘conventionally’.

If you think you can just dodge all his advances by being polite while hoping he eventually loses interest — you're so wrong. In fact, Neuvillette will notice your discomfort regarding him very early and at first, he tries to be more approachable, amicable and charming ; if you may. He's aware of his disposition, therefore, he doesn't really blame you for being intimidated by him. If all of this effort proves to be in vain, no worries ; Neuvillette knows the exact strings to pull to get an artist compliant. Reputation takes time to build but a measly moment to be destroyed, some good ol' coercion should do and in your most vulnerable state, who else will be willing to help you?

The instance where I see him being blatantly controlling is, if your whole involvement with the common folk and lifestyle threaten your ballerina image. I presume ballerinas have a very strict diet to keep their figures, in that case, do you really think indulgences such as oily, fatty street food will be allowed by Neuvillette? The Judge has caught wind of you skipping practice to mingle with the peasants? Well guess who's going to sit there and supervise your practice session til the last second? It's not like you get any encouragement to question his involvement, however valid your complaints are. No one wants to get on Neuvillette's bad side and I suggest you don't, too.

[ next : ballerina darling falling for a commoner ]

#phew finally found this ask #cocosakuya15 #neuvillette brainrot #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x female reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader

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suffersinfandom · 6 months

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I feel for the Izzy fans, I really do. It sucks to have your favorite character killed off, especially when you feel like their death serves no narrative purpose. It genuinely hurts to lose a character that you identify closely with, and it's okay to be sad and grieve. The character might not be real, but the grief is. Let people mourn. Don't be rude to the ones who are just being sad in their little corners of the internet, yeah?

That said.

Some of the stuff I've seen in the OFMD fandom today? Worst shit I've seen in a fandom that I love and care about, and grief is no excuse. I know I'm a no one in this fandom and I'm mostly typing into a void, but I've got to get some things out:

The show doesn't deserve to be canceled. None of the creators, producers, or writers deserve to be canceled. Nothing queerphobic, homophobic, or ableist happened.

Izzy's death was not an insult or a cruelty or a targeted attack.

David Jenkins and the rest of the writers did not gaslight and abuse anyone (yeah, those are take I've seen).

It wasn't "objectively" a cheap or meaningless or badly-written death. You can hate it and that's okay, but that's still subjective!

Izzy was not the main character or the "heart" of the show. The heart of the show -- the show itself -- is Ed and Stede's relationship. We have been told as much.

"Ed hasn't faced any consequences for his actions." He has though? He didn't gaslight girlboss his way back into everyone's hearts. Izzy is not Ed's hapless and helpless victim. He was almost beaten to death and ran around in a penitence onesie with a catbell on; I think those were consequences.

"How do you feel when gay characters are randomly killed off to help a straight couple progress their narrative? Not good, huh? That's how disabled fans feel." It's okay to feel that way, but don't make any sweeping assumptions about disabled fans. I'm disabled and I'm gonna say that's not what happened here.

"How dare you kill off this character who's abused, flawed, suicidal, disabled, and queer!" Ed is still right over there, yeah? Check, check, check, check, and check. (Little note: I've seen a lot of "he's not disabled!" Even if you don't buy the kneebrace ((Ed Teach with bad joints is so important to me, shhh)), what about invisible disabilities? What about mental health issues? I'm not here to diagnose a fictional character, but it's clear to me that Ed has mental health problems that dramatically impact his life.)

"It's sick that Izzy died in the arms of his abuser apologizing to him." I don't even know where to start with this one, but I get the feeling that some parts of the fandom only consider physical abuse valid. Mental, verbal, and emotional abuse are pretty fucking damaging and I think it's sick that some folks think they aren't actually abuse.

People who enjoyed the last episode of season two aren't media illiterate. People who love Gentlebeard aren't abusive narcissists.

I just.

I really, truly feel for Izzy fans for I too have lost a blorbo. I'm giving a huge hug to the Izzy enjoyers who aren't out there making threats and calling everyone abusers and being outright hostile to anyone who had the nerve to enjoy this season. Like, I genuinely hope you guys are doing okay, and if you need an ear, I'm game.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #cw: abuse #tw: abuse #i'm just frustrated and sad #fandom critical #day two: still bad #but i've seen some very cool izzy fans out there talking down their friends #as well as some kind and patient words from neutral parties #this fandom is still mostly good and kind #day three: i think we're doing better!#day four: backsliding :(#me typing things

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morallyinept · 6 months

Text

Birthday Cake - A Frankie Morales One Shot

Summary: It's Frankie's birthday and you make him a birthday cake.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 3.1k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Established relationship/oral M & F receiving/unproteced PIV (wrap up, folks!)

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Written for my birthday. Completely self-indulgent; Frankie's the best gift, right? For anyone else celebrating their birthday today, I'm sending you the biggest smooch. 💋🖤

Frankie speaks some Spanish in this, I've not provided translations as there's not much and it's easy enough to Google.

Check out my other birthday story, featuring Joel Miller, called Candles.

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Feliz Cumpleaños!” You call enthusiastically as you step out holding the cake, wearing nothing but his favourite lacy underwear that he loves on you so much.

And heels, don’t forget the heels as you totter closer to him. The candles flicker, so you slow your pace.

“¿Qué es esta sorpresa?” Frankie baulks, tossing down his jacket and keys, and grinning from ear to ear.

He looks you up and down hungrily like a sexual predator. His mind runs through all the scenarios on what he could do with you right now, and from the look on his face, they’re all filthily obscene.

It makes you shudder and clench.

“Make a wish, baby,” you smile at him as he leans in to blow out the candles.

The cake is three layers, covered in fluffy white frostng, with his name written on the top in squiggly blue letters. A DIY crank job, that you’ve painstakingly spent hours making clandestinely, whilst the boys took him out for a birthday brunch, even though it looks like something a two-year-old has smooshed together.

Once the candles are blown out, he wraps his thick arm around you, pulling you in close for a sweet kiss.

“Muchas gracias, hermosa, this is amazing!” Frankie murmurs gratefully, squashing you close to his warm, strong body where you inhale bergamot and beer.

“Careful, you’ll get cake on you.” You giggle as you move it out the way onto the table before it’s flattened between the two of you. Although, judging by the state of it, it would probably do it a favour to die a quick death, you think.

“And what would be the problem in that, hmm?” Frankie rasps hungrily as he kisses up and down the side of your face; his soft scruff tickling at your skin leaving tingles in your gums, and gives your pert ass cheeks a long, tight knead inside those giant hands of his. He groans as he looks over you again.

“I made it just for you,” you pout “to eat.”

“Looks delicious.” Frankie compliments, and he reaches for it, swiping his index finger into the frosting and sucks up the puffy cloud on the end of it. “Mmm,” he sighs.

You smile up at him, pleased with your efforts.

“You look fucking amazing.” He pants, losing words on the steam of his breath.

“It’s all for you,” you smirk up at him as he pulls your chin towards him, inside his thumb and wet forefinger, and smooches delicately onto your lips.

He slips his tongue inside your mouth and you can taste the sweetness from the frosting.

“Mmm,” he groans as he continues to paw at your ass. “Lucky me.”

You watch as he runs his finger around the side of the cake again and a mound of white frosting gathers on the tip once more. He sticks his finger inside his mouth and sucks it clean, all the while maintaining a hypnotic eye contact with you. “Tastes better than it looks,” he grins.

You roll your eyes at him as he chuckles. “I love it,” he confirms. “Es perfecta y tan pensativa.”

“It took me all morning to make this for you.” You sigh and look at your clumsy handiwork despondently. The kitchen is a complete wreck and the thought of cleaning it up later isn’t a welcome one.

Frankie swipes his finger inside the cake’s frosting again, then holds it out for you this time. You lean forward and lick the it off his finger, sucking the thick, calloused digit clean.

“Good, no?” He asks you.

You nod. “Not too bad if I say so myself.” You grin proudly. There’s no denying the taste of the cake is exquisite; it’s just the putting it together that’s the issue. It looks incredibly lopsided on the plate and as though it will topple over at any moment.

Frankie looks down at you hungrily and watches as you gasp when he squeezes your butt more lavishly now. Massaging your cheeks, he starts to nuzzle into your neck; breathing in the scent of your body lotion and perfume, kissing and mouthing up to your ear.

You can feel how hard he is as he tugs you closer to him, through his jeans. Your fingers hook into his belt loops as you crush him closer.

With his other hand, he reaches the mound of your breasts; so pert and bouncy in your bra, and gives them a good fondle too.

“You look so hot,” Frankie whines like he’s drunk, as he kisses across your cheek.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah.” He then kisses down your collarbone, running his hot, wet tongue towards your cleavage and smooches over the front of the cups of your bra whining, until his fingers pull the material and reveal swollen areolas waiting just for him.

He looks up at you as he sucks and tongues your nipples awake; flicking them, teasing them and gnawing on them around his teeth.

Your legs feel like jelly as they buckle underneath you to watch him do that. It drives you bat shit crazy when he sucks on your nipples like this. The tingles and swirling pleasure that centres through them pulls tight and heavy, and you can feel that delicious ache between your legs start to bloom and throb.

Frankie reaches for the cake, and jabs his fingers into the frosting. He then runs his cakey fingers around your nipples, covering them in frosting, pulls you closer and opens his mouth.

He sucks and licks it off, groaning in delight as he swallows it all down.

“Mmm, my God.” You mewl as you watch him clean up your breasts. He stands up right, licking his lips.

“Sit on it,” Frankie prompts you. “Sit on the cake, hermosa.” His eyes are flashing dangerously at you, turning darker as the seconds tick on.

“But, it will get squashed.” You protest with a wry grin.

“It’s my birthday, right?” He cocks his brow at you.

“Yeah-”

“So, what I really want for my birthday is to eat this cake off your pussy, tu me entiendes?” He states with a bright, pink smirk under his moustache.

You grin wide, your body starting to prickle with sweat, as he brings the plate down to the floor, and supports your back as you sit on top of the cake after removing your panties.

You feel frosting go everywhere.

“Oh my god,” you giggle, and then he pushes you gently onto the couch on your back and spreads your legs wide.

He kneels down in between them, his eyes darting all over the sight of you with cake and frosting smashed all over your cunt and the insides of your thighs.

“You look good enough to eat, fuck…” Frankie flicks his tongue through the flumps of frosting and cake bits as he sets to work feasting on you.

You take his cap as the rim gets cake on it and toss it across the couch. His hair is all curly and messy underneath it and you run your hands through it, raking it back as he tastes you.

He licks all up the inside of your thighs, cleaning you up. Around the outsides of your lips, slowly teasing you. Then, when he can tell you’re gagging for him to just do it already, he licks his tongue all over your clit.

“Oh yeah…” You coo as you close your eyes, feeling his magic tongue cast entrancing spells on your body and mind alike.

He sucks gently, but firmly, on your clit; wiggling his tongue around on the tip through the plumes of frosting, and the insides if your thighs jolt and jerk. It's all over his chin as he pops his head up to grin at you; licking around his lips like a hungry dog just rewarded with a treat.

You can’t help but giggle at the sight of him, reaching to wipe some of the frosting from his chin and sucking it off your thumb as he laps back at your slit and makes your back arch.

“Fuck, Frankie!” You groan as he slips his two middle fingers inside of you; finger fucking you deeply as he gnaws on your cake covered cunt.

“Sabes tan bien… so fucking good,” he mewls looking at you from between your legs, and you can hear his pants and groans as he opens his mouth and tongues your swollen nub to death.

“I’m gonna come,” you breathe, tensing your legs to which he holds them open at the thighs weighing them down and sucks your clit as you peak. “Fuck. Oh my God, yes… yes!”

You start squirming when it gets too sensitive, and you hear his raspy chuckle from your centre as you tug tightly at his curls.

“Oh God, it’s too much… Frankie-” You giggle and try to squirm away, but he’s too strong.

“Nu-uh,” you hear him say as he sucks and thrashes his tongue around on your clit harder.

You writhe and buck against his face and his fingertips are prodding into your thigh meat keeping you in place.

“Oh God, Frankie… please!” You pant arching upright, your head off the cushions and straining; your hands fisting harder in his scalp, your whole body is tense and locked as you come again.

He always knows how to get you off with his tongue, knows your body has it in you to have more, even if it feels like you can’t.

You flop back into the couch, breathless as he crawls up your body and smirks at you licking his lips. He has cake crumbs smeared up his scruff, and even some peppered in his eyebrows.

Frankie swipes his fingers inside the frosting from the crushed cake on the floor, and sticks his fingers inside your mouth; swirling them around your tongue and in the sides of your cheeks; watching with open lips as you suck and swallow the it down.

He still continues to run his fingers around your mouth long after the cake fluff is gone from them. Just enthralled by the way you suck, tease them and nip on them, just like you would with his cock.

You push him upright so he’s sitting on the couch now, reaching for his belt. He holds his hands up out of the way smirking, and watching you as he lifts his hips off the sofa momentarily so you can tug his jeans and boxers down.

His cock thunks up against the soft swell of his belly. He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the floor, eagerly anticipating what’s to come as you take off your bra.

You reach for the cake, clawing your fingers into it and take a fist full, and smear it all over his hard, weeping cock, and balls.

He holds his cock out to you at the base as he’s sat slouched back into the cushions; his long legs running parallel either side of you as you kneel between them. You scratch up the back of his calves as you lean forward and take his fluffy, snow coated dick inside your mouth; the frosting clouding around your lips.

“Fuck,” he drones, his head leaning back and closing his eyes as you suck hard on the head of him, and stripping him of his breath.

He whines as you start the clean-up job, running your tongue up and down him and taking mouthfuls of cake as you lick his cock.

“Mmm,” he whines watching you and biting onto his bottom lip through droopy, mesmerised eyes. You run your tongue all down his shaft; the icing becomes pearly and more fluid as it mixes sticky with your saliva.

It’s sweet and cloying, and as you run your tongue over and around his balls, you’re looking up at him and sucking one of them gently into your mouth as you pump his cock slowly with your hand, tightening around him as you go.

“Ah fuck… yeah,” Frankie coos as he watches, utterly beside himself, as you lick all the cake frosting and suck and play with his plump balls. Swollen and throbbing with that need he has for you; that need to cover you in that frosting of his own.

You pop the tip of him back inside your mouth and suck down deeply on him, feeling him at the back of your throat. The husks of his grunts, like a whisper pelted in wet gravel, echo inside your ears.

Frankie has no words when you take him all the way down to the soft fuzz of hairs at the base of him; instead, the noises puffing out of him makes your pussy plead on its knees in subjugation of him.

His huge hands massage inside of you hair and soon you feel him fucking your face, pushing his cock deeper as he thrust his hips, forcing himself further down your throat.

Heaves roll up from your stomach but you don’t choke fully on him; inhaling deeper through your nose that it whistles somewhat as he pants, bucking into your face as you open wider.

Gug-gug-gug... an unrelenting rhythm of sticky suction, and satisfied grunts flow from his mouth around the lounge. You mouth him and suck, driving him utterly wild as he gasps and groans in delight.

“Come here,” he grunts, reaching for you and hoisting you into his lap where he angles his cock at your pussy and slips inside you without wasting a second.

“Ah yeah!” “Fuck!” You both chime and gasp at the same time.

“You’re so wet; you’re drenched.” He’s panting, grinning and beside himself with the state you're in.

You breathe out into his face as he fills you up and packs you out.

You wrap your arms around the back of his thick neck, slipping up and down on him. His skin is sticky from the cake; crumbs and frosting trails are everywhere.

Your breasts taste so sweet as he takes your nipple inside his mouth and swirls his tongue around it before reaching up to kiss you on the lips. You ride hard, feeling yourself slam down on his cock each time he fucks up into you.

Both of you are frantic, hungry for each other.

He reaches for the remainder of the cake and grabs it, and slathers it all over your tits and chest, then crushes you towards him.

The cake and frosting is smooshed between your bodies; the sugary cream and frosting splurge out everywhere, and pieces of the sponge are wrenched apart as you both become utterly covered in it.

It’s all over the sofa, the carpet; in your hair. It would be worth the clean up later.

Frankie smirks at you as you run your hands in the cake, smear it over his chest and slip your fingers into his mouth.

He sucks and licks them clean with some urgency and you kiss and lick each other’s faces, gorging upon one another hungrily whilst you fuck deeply and intensely.

“Mmm, Frankie... Please, oh God!” You groan, feeling your body tighten and clench again.

“You close, baby?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Come all over my cock.” He encourages. “Soak it with that tight, little cunt, hermosa.”

He's in deep, plunging that cock right up into the hilt of you, and your body begins to shake and tense once more.

You cry out as you peak; your pussy contracting all around him. Riding him hard to get your rocks off and feeling dizzy and hot.

“Fuuuccck!” Frankie yells out; his head thrown back into the sofa cushions and eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

He loves it when you come like this around his cock. The squeezing and the convulsing against him, oh it feels divine.

"That's it, baby. Yeah, like that.” He encourages you, watching you lose your shit all over him. His thumb strokes your clit and you sonic boom.

“So good,” he hisses as you move around and around. “Right there... that’s it. Oh fuck, that’s so sweet!” He grunts. “I’m gonna come so deep inside of you, te voy a inundar llena, niña!

He has a nub of cake smeared on his cheek and you bend forward and lick it up and he grips onto your butt, squeezing it fondly whilst you ride him through the shakes.

“I want you to come in my mouth, Frankie.” You pant.

He nods, “I’m almost there,” he whines.

You slip off of his lap and sink to your knees, sucking on his cock. You can taste your sweet slick, and you run your sticky, frosted hands over his shaft once more and taste the cake inside your mouth alongside the thick track of his dick.

You massage his shaft, pumping up and down as you suck hard on him and he grips the sides of the sofa cushions, thrusting his hips into your mouth.

“Shit! ¡Sí! Sigue adelante!” He calls, his neck and thighs tensing, then he shoots plentiful bursts of his creamy, thick ejaculate into your mouth.

You work his cock; his come bubbling around your lips as it drips and leaves pearly strings dangling from his shaft.

You continue to suck on him long after he’s come. Just gently massaging and mouthing him and running that tongue over him as he watches enthralled, and like he’s died and gone to fucking blow job heaven.

“Mmm,” Frankie breathes, fingering through your cake laden hair, as you look up at him doe-eyed and wink as you clean him up and swallow him all down.

You’re both a sticky, crummy mess. The sofa and the carpet are a fucking mess. Cake explosions everywhere.

Frankie takes your hands inside his giant ones, and pulls you back into his lap where you sit on his frosted and crumb covered thighs.

“So, you liked your cake then?” You nuzzle into him smirking, and smooching on his hooked nose, then onto his pink lips, for a kiss that seems like it won’t ever end.

“Best birthday cake ever,” he whispers back to you with a breathy grin.

Thank you so much for reading this lil' birthday fic of mine! 🎉 Re-blogs & comments are always appreciated & fuel me. 🖤

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

#frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales triple frontier #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #jett's writing #jett's birthday #jett's pedro boys

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intoanotherworld23 · 1 year

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Private Session

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, this entire one shot is pure sex and smut so you have been warned folks

Summary: Chris Evans has been your therapist for a while now, and todays session is a physical one

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal my work or publish my work as your own or I will have you reported✨

"God I love your cock." Humming around his lips as he drilled himself deeper inside of you.

"Fuck you look so good right now." His words encouraging to you as his lips started moving down your neck sucking on the flesh. "So fucking good."

It was wrong what the two of you were doing. He was your therapist and he could lose his license if he got caught. You were vulnerable and haven't gotten laid in a long time, and he was a willing participant.

There was something about Chris that had your thighs always clenching together. So many nights you were knuckle deep inside yourself imagining what he was doing to you right now. Never did you think he would make the first move on you. It was almost like you were dreaming.

"Come on sweetheart don't lose focus on me now." A dark voice bringing your back to reality feeling the tip of his cock slowly entering you again. "Gotta fuck that damage out of you."

"Oh god Chris don't stop." Raking your nails down his back as he leaned on his hands on either side of your head. "Shit right there right there."

"God damn you are so fuckin tight." Groaning through clenched teeth as he concentrated on not cumming too early.

Pieces of his long hair falling in front of his face tempting you to reach up and pull on it. His once light eyes now darkened with lust and desire. Whimpers leaving your mouth every time he thrusted into you.

"Nobody fuck this pussy good enough for you sweetheart." To be honest he was completely awed how tight you were, and felt shocked that nobody made you feel good. "If you were mine I'd worship that wet little pussy of yours everyday."

Chris leaned his head down kissing along your collarbone getting to the tops of your breasts a wet tongue brushing your bouncing breasts. Attaching his mouth to your nipple sucking on the nub until you felt a slight sting.

Feeling your back scraping against the leather couch. Sweat dripping down your back making you slide back and forth. Legs wrapping around his waist giving him an all new angle. His eyes moving to your face to watch your reactions.

"Fuck so good taking my cock like you are." Immediately your eyes moving down watching as he disappeared inside of you mouth open in amazement.

"Oh god." Your head falling back as you arched your back feeling him all the way in your stomach.

"This pussy is mine sweetheart." Growling as he leaned forward his mouth right by your ear his possessiveness had you moaning. "All mine to play with to fuck to taste."

"Fuck yes it's all yours Chris." Whining as your hands reached out beside you gripping on the leather your nails digging into the fabric. "Mmm god you fuck me so good."

"Can feel you squeezing my cock so deliciously." Sharply thrusting into you making you deliberately clench around him as your hands gripped his thighs. "God I should have done this sooner."

His eyes moved to your chest watching as your breasts bounced, and a drop of sweat falling down to your chest. The room smelled like sweat and sex and it had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"Wanna hear you moan my name while you take my cock baby." His hand grabbed your chin making you look into his eyes. "Watch that pretty mouth say my name."

"Oh god Chris." Crying out his name in the throes of ecstasy making him wear a shit eating grin he was loving the power he had over you. "I'm gonna cum."

"Oh no sweetheart you're not cumming just yet." Hands grabbing your body turning you around on your hands and knees ass up in the air. "Not until I say so."

Hands gripping onto your ass squeezing your cheeks as he thrusted back inside of you. Both of you groaning as he started to move your head tossing back and forth with this new angle.

His pelvis pushing against your ass every time he drilled himself inside you. Your cheeks jiggling his skin smacking on yours the sound making your cheeks heat up. Feeling your arousal slowly sliding down your inner thigh.

"You're a damaged little girl aren't you." He wasn't asking you a question more like making a statement his eyes watching your body writhing under him. "So fucking damaged."

Feeling his hands move up and down your back as you felt your hips bouncing back against him. Licking his lips as he watched you lose complete control, and he was loving it.

Chris felt like he was taking advantage of you, and felt bad but the way you were moaning his name changed his thoughts. There was something about you that he had to have, and he couldn't believe he had you right now.

For months he's listened to you complain and talk about your love life. He was becoming more invested in you the more sessions you had with him. Fantasizing all the things he could do with you if you were him.

Some people would say he’s taking advantage of your vulnerability, but if anything you made the first move. This was something the both of you clearly wanted.

"Chris I'm gonna cum." Crying out as you felt your pussy clenching around him and that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach you knew you weren't going to last long. "Oh god please Chris."

"Cum for me sweetheart." Whispering into your ear as his body leaned forward his chest pressed to your back.

Your orgasm felt like such a sweet release as your hands gripped the arm rest in front of you. Pumping his load inside of you both of you breathing heavily as you tried to get your mind straight. Still in disbelief you just had sex with your therapist.

"That was amazing." You stated out of breath making him chuckle as you turned your body on your back as Chris stood up.

"That's only the beginning sweetheart." He winked at you making you smile as you laid there on the couch still naked.

After a few minutes of silence his phone started going off. Quickly putting on his underwear he grabbed his phone and talked to whoever was on the other line. Awkwardly sitting there now wondering if you should just leave or wait for him.

Standing up you grabbed your clothes and started to put them on. Feeling ashamed that this was probably a one time thing, and things could become uncomfortable now.

"Thanks bye." He said as he hung up the phone and looked to you with a suspicious smirk. "Well looks like my next appointment won't be coming."

"Really?" Squeaking out as he stood in front of you pulling your body into his placing your hands on his chest.

"But I know someone who will be coming." A hand coming down hard on your ass making you squeal.

#chris evans #Chris Evans smut #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans imagines #chris Evans oneshot #chris Evans fic #chris evans fanfiction

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ketterdamskaelishprince · 11 days

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ada's spectre, and why i'll likely always feel sad about it

here is the promised analysis/talk about ada's spectre. going to preface this by saying i obviously don't know the true intent behind everything and her design, i just like to look, giggle and then make sad little observations which just help me love this silly webcomic even more. so if you disagree with me on something– totally ok! i love to learn and i love to see different interpretations.

there's also a few bits i missed out because i wrote this all last night in a bit of a haze, and i cannot be bothered to expand on some of my ideas, especially when it's just stuff like "BROS SO PARANOID AND RAW RIGHT NOW".

anyways, here we go :) @mugcereal this one's for u pookie <3

so i think with ada's spectre, we first need to look at the instance as to how she gets it, because that always makes things way more sad!

to specify, she turns into her spectre at episode 69, and i think it's really sad how she does it. she basically gets a string of roasts from prospero that go along the lines of calling her "conceited" "twadry" and "... and stupid!" – effectively throwing back in ada's face what she believes everyone thinks of her.

(obviously, as a very big and glaring sidenote, i believe prospero is aro/ace or just aromantic so OBVIOUSLY i am not bashing him for this. bros told her so many times that he doesn't want to be with her, let alone to be touched. that is a flaw in ada's character and is a reminder to us on the importance of boundaries!!!!)

so, ada is basically there, collapsed on the floor in a robe– effectively showing the most intimate and private part of herself as an insecure and lonely girl. and that's when she transforms.

i think it's interesting to understand how this most likely links to her life and how she died. so we know she was killed with an axe, most likely by the man she fell in love with and worked for, and how prospero's words in this situation, hurt her just the same as the words before her death. why?

because they remind ada of what she knows and fears she is: just a stupid, fake and cheap person who will never have the same status and respect as the people she pretends to be and surrounds herself by.

i think it's also interesting that she's clutching her stomach/torso here, and correct me if i'm wrong but that could be a potential signal to the part of her that was axed to death (?). no idea if that's a good shout or not but it's what i first thought!

anyways! now we move onto her spectre design!

first of all, her spectre design eats. like just a personal side note, i love it. it's just so gorgeous and i don't care if she's terrifying to some because to ME? to me, she's my gorgeous little pookie who can scream and show people their worst fears and she looks amazing whilst she does it <3

ok anyways, actual design.

to first understand her design, i thought i'd show you what banshee's traditionally in folklore look like!

typically, they are described in two ways. the first way is a youthful women with long black hair, blue eyes and just super pale. this description could also lose the blue eyes and just keep the black hair– either way the first depiction of a banshee is a super young woman.

this is not the one we're focussing on today folks!

we're going to focus on the second depiction. a hag/ old woman, with red cheeks, a grey cloak and a green dress, often seen to be combing her hair. banshee's throughout folklore are known to wail, scream and cry when a family member had died. to most, the banshee was a sign that death was coming to your household and they are known in myths and folklore as a predictor of death.

now, hold onto the green dress and look at ada's design real quick for me.

here we see a lot of green, which yay! definitely shows signs it comes from the second depiction. i think, on top of it being a nod to the second depiction, i think it could also be an allusion to something else: jealousy.

green symbolism in media can often vary, from meaning new life, luck and also jealousy. and i think if we take in the things ada screams whilst in her spectre form, such as this from episode 82:

you see there definitely is some sort of jealousy there, but this isn't something i necessarily want to focus on, it's just an observation i made that may or may not be true!

anyways, to continue, i want to look at ada's outfit when she's a banshee. i'm going to basically be making my notes i took last night look nicer.

(keep in mind that when i wrote these, my ideas were literally bouncing off my brain and sometimes they're a bit contradictory, but i think that's the beauty of my crack theory analysis!)

i think the act of almost showing her bones to the outside, there's a level of rawness to ada we don't usually see. her spectre form essentially gives her the power to scream out her anger, and by seeing her bones it's almost as if to say this is the ada she doesn't show people. this is the ada that she keeps to herself because god forbid anybody love her (because in life and death it's become abundantly apparent to her that nobody does seem to love that ada).

but then, what i thought was also a super cool thing as how the bones almost act like a corset!

then i got sad because i looked at the bows, and because something dawned on me and it made me start to frown. there was a sad realization to me as i looked at ada's spectre design that even in this all powerful form, she hasn't lost her insecurities, they just become more prevellant. because for all of the traditional wrinkles, hag-like appearance a banshee is meant to have, ada barely has any.

obviously this could be in part to character design and stuff, and yeah probably– but let me be sad!

because ada carries her frills and bows from life here because she doesn't want to be ugly, she doesn't want to be this creeping monster who rips apart people. because if she's not got her intelligence or status or anything going for her, she has her appearance and by god she's not going to let that go to waste. so here her spectre form is, a banshee.

so what must ada do? she must takes her frills and keep her insecurities, her fears and her crippling need to be loved.

another aspect which is super interesting is the stitching on her body. one one hand, it could be an allusion to her violent death, suggesting the man she fell in love with didn't just stop at axing her once, but just kept on fucking going (which, you know: fuck you, whoever you are).

but on the other hand, it could be a metaphor for ada's thinly veiled facade she puts on of being a prim and proper lady (which we actually, interestingly enough, see she looses a lot the more time she spends with montresor– opting to take parts of his language like "ain't" and "beggin'". this sort of leads on from previous ideas people have made of ada willing to change herself to be loved. she swaps civility for the wild wild west all for a bit of love).

ada offers up parts of herself in this metaphor. that's what she always does. she offers herself to the rich man she fell in love with, she offers herself up to prospero (again, look at the. side note. bro wasn't wrong for rejecting her he literally can't like her) and she offers herself up to the acolytes and she fucking barks for them (because i'm not over that).

piece by piece, she strips away everything she is until she literally is just skin and bone. and once she's torn herself apart, she needs to stitch herself back together– because it's against the facade she's put on to look so broken and messy. and so she repeats the cycle again, giving more and more until she is literally hanging on by a thread.

her powers are also super cool. traditionally, as i said, banshees wail when a family member is soon to die/has died, and is often like an omen/predictor of death. so yeah, ada having a banshee scream makes sense. but the whole 'fear itself' is also super cool. i kind of like that she has this– because its sort of satisfying for her, the girl who's been pushed over but still comes running back, to watch as people become paralysed with fear. idk, retribution or whatever.

i'm going to leave you with this not very profound thing i wrote last night (and then just some other mumblings):

i think that although spectres are super powerful and also just a very fantastic concept, they're also fragile. spectres are quite literally the monster inside of you. yet here ada's monster is, and with all her bows and revamped dress of a banshee (or potentially an allusion to her life as a maid) she tries desperately to be anything but that. because to here it's ugly and it's too much of her on display. and with some much of you on display comes the very fear that if you are hated, disliked or something repulsive, you no longer have anything to blame on anybody else. you just have yourself to blame.

(as morella says here in episode 88).

i'm not saying ada isn't deeply flawed, because she is. she has so much fucking baggage and insecurities that they literally forbid her from doing the right thing sometimes. i don't think she's a good person, but i also think that she has the opportunity to be a good person/ do a semi-good/ non-bad thing, and all she has to do is take it. but i also think it's nice how that's shown in her spectre design.

and, you know, if none of this makes sense, that's also fine!

anyways, yeah. somebody tell me never to make a random analysis at night again because it's a bit of a bitch to translate in the morning.

#ada nevermore #nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #nevermore #ada #ada nevermore analysis #nevermore character analysis #character analysis #adas spectre #is that even how you spell it #anyways i love her for who she is #my precious little screaming meow meow #LMAO #ok idk what i'm talking about anymore LMOA #forgive if there are typos because at this point i am TOO TIRED to do anything about it

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mysteryshoptls · 9 months

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SSR Deuce Spade Rabbit Costume Voice Lines

When Summoned: Come with me! It's a little embarrassing, but... Let me show you around my hometown.

Summon Line: I bet it's because I'm here with my pals that the White Rabbit Festival actually seems like fun.

Groooovy!!: I'm definitely not going to lose this race! I'll be the one blowing the victory trumpet!!

Home: How many years has it been since I wore a rabbit costume like this?

Swap Looks: Don't these glasses make me look like a proper honor student?

Home Idle 1: I planned on jumping on a magical wheel to go for a ride, since I came all this way home... But I guess I'll do it next time, since you all came with me.

Home Idle 2: Grim asked me which one's prettier: Rabbit National Park, or the Heartslabyul Gardens. Man, I don't know... I can't decide...!

Home Idle 3: "It's kinda neat to travel with folks my own age"...hm. I guess me and Epel have a lot in common.

Home Idle - Login: I guess it's a good feeling coming home like this. I didn't really feel like that while I was growing up here in Clock Town, though.

Home Idle - Groovy: I bet if you, me, and Grim just go ham talking about all that happened today when we get back to school… Ace'll get crazy jealous.

Home Tap 1: Silver's a real calm guy. When we were all suddenly told to put on these white rabbit outfits, he was so composed... I could learn a lot from him.

Home Tap 2: When I asked Ortho what he was going to do with the parts he bought in the hardware store, he said it was for his body. It was kinda like he was out clothes shopping.

Home Tap 3: It's pretty fun to buy a bunch of food and split the cost together. Actually... It's kinda something that I've always wanted to do.

Home Tap 4: You should come visit Clock Town again sometime. I'll make sure to show you around like a proper host then.

Home Tap 5: What shops do I recommend here in Clock Town? Uhhh, where should I say... Wait a second, let me look stuff up on my phone.

Home Tap - Groovy: I think I was able to help my mom feel a bit of relief. And that's because you all came with me, so, thanks.

Duo: [DEUCE]: You pumped up, Ortho? [ORTHO]: I totally am, Deuce-san!

Requested by panininono.

#twisted wonderland #twst #deuce spade #ortho shroud #twst deuce #twst ortho #twst translation #twst white rabbit festival #mention: grim #mention: epel #mention: silver #mention: ace

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insteading · 3 months

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As someone who’s done bereavement care for almost 20 years, I’ve observed again and again and again that it is not staying with grief that cuts us off from other people, it’s suffocating grief and suppressing grief. It’s impossible to repress grief without also repressing all sorts of other things like joy and memory. Actually, expressing grief naturally connects us empathetically to other people. It is not an accident that right now when there is such a profound suppression of global grief, we’re also finding ourselves in a moment of such isolation.

Rabbi Elliot Kukla, in them magazine

I sought out this piece because Rabbi Kukla was quoted in today's sermon in reference to the ongoing genocide in Gaza ("It is lifesaving to mourn our humanity in inhumane times").

But this paragraph about grief hit me so hard I wanted to single it out to share. It is relevant to corporate grief of the sort we might experience when a state is doing harm in our name (police brutality, displacement, execution). It is also relevant to individual griefs.

In the bereavement calls I do for hospice, I have noticed, this is precisely what gets people stuck in grief: the feeling that there is no safe space and time to express grief. Companies tend to give very little accommodation for bereavement, if they give any at all. Culturally we're expected to get over losses in a matter of days. But grief rewires us, and some losses-- particularly losses like war, displacement, and police brutality where a state or institution does the same kind of harm repeatedly-- are complex and ongoing.

Grief impacts sleeping, eating, executive function. (I don't ask people in bereavement calls, "How are you doing?" I ask, "How are you sleeping?" "How's your appetite?" Maybe "Are there moments from your caregiving, or from your [loved one's] dying, that keep coming up for you?" Because of course you're not fine! You just lost someone essential to you. What I want to know is, is your body getting a chance to repair itself as your mind and heart process what you've experienced?)

People have talked to me after a loss about feeling exhausted and overwhelmed by daily life. It's not unlike recovering from a major injury and having a sizable portion of your bandwidth given over at all times to the tasks of bone, muscle, and nerve repair that are not under your conscious control. When tasks you're used to thinking of as having one part suddenly make it clear how complex they are? Cooking a meal takes more out of you. Doing a load of laundry takes more out of you. If you're already an introvert, the cost of social engagement goes up, at a time when social engagement might actually be very helpful.

Doing some of our grief work with other trusted people shares the load. It recovers some bandwidth. But many folks learn early in the grieving process that they have fewer trusted people than they thought. Or that it feels like the wrong time to deepen an acquaintanceship they'd hoped might become a friendship. Or that they aren't as comfortable asking loved ones for help as they thought they would be.

And the bereavement model I'm trained in assumes that a grieving person has experienced one recent loss. We know that a recent loss might poke us in the tender spots left by earlier losses. But that's still different from the experience of a tragedy that affects a whole community at once (as in an entire region's population losing multiple loved ones in a very short time and being forced to flee).

I don't really have a conclusion here, but I'm finding the activism that feels most healing and hope-filled to me has lament built into it: a chance to name the people who've died in our county's jail, while advocating for better communication with families of people inside. A chance to call out the names of people lost to covid while advocating for policies that will mitigate risk to vulnerable people.

Maybe it takes days to name all the people impacted by ongoing genocides in Congo, Palestine, Yemen, while urging our government to end its role in those genocides. Maybe our systems and structures, which aren't even good at honoring our grief for members of the nuclear family we're taught is our primary world, are disinclined to give us that time. Maybe we ought to take it anyway.

#this is not about my favorite silly little pirate show #except insofar as ofmd touches on grief / and actions to preserve the show acknowledge the grief we feel losing something meaningful #grief is the shape our love takes when we lose someone or something we love #and we should be able to name that person or thing #i'm never going to stop being mad at managers / well-meaning acquaintances who tell my clients 'it's been a while; you should move on'#seriously fuck all the way off with that; whoever hurt you / don't pass that hurt on #a person who is grieving is a person who has the capacity for love and care / and that capacity ought to be nurtured #because it's the basis of mutual aid / support / positive action / and a whole host of other things we need more of #anyway: strive to be a person who is safe to grieve around #and strive to be a person who is not too cool to care about anyone or anything #and if you wind up in any kind of position of influence or authority someday? make your environment more supportive to people in grief #grief care #community trauma

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falafel14 · 8 months

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Jack Wolfe as Gabe Goodman

So I've had a few "Tell me everything!" responses to my recent post about the Donmar Warehouse's stunning new production of Next to Normal. Knowing the audience here, I'll narrow my focus to writing about what I know my fellow 'Six of Crows' fans will most want to hear - Jack's role as Gabe. I won't be recapping the show itself, as I assume most folks reading this will have listened to the soundtrack, read the script, or watched a Broadway bootleg. Or at least I hope so, because below you will find MAJOR SPOILERS for Next to Normal and specifically the Donmar's staging of it.

Gabe is introduced to us as the Goodman's teenage son, who seemingly has a close affectionate relationship with his mother, Diana, but frosty relationships with his father Dan and sister Natalie, neither of whom acknowledge his presence. About thirty minutes in we are shown exactly why. Diana brings out an 18th birthday cake when the family have Nat's boyfriend Henry over for dinner and it is revealed that today would have been Gabe's birthday...if he'd been alive. But Gabe died when he was a baby and Diana has only been imagining him growing up all these years.

Up until this point, Jack has been playing Gabe as a cheeky rebellious teenager, but when he slinks back on stage to blow out the candles on his cake, he becomes a much more ethereal and impish presence. In I Am The One, his expression transforms from sweet and devoted when singing to his mom, to menacing and malevolent when singing to his dad. Gabe manifests as different personas for each member of his family and it's thrilling to watch as Jack shifts between them all. When Natalie comes downstairs to sing Superboy and the Invisible Girl we see Gabe as the cocky conceited older sibling, who seems to revel in being their mother's favorite.

In her next therapy session, Diana is asked to speak about her son and this is when we get Gabe's showstopping I'm Alive solo. This number really did raise the roof. I'll admit when I saw videos of Jack singing it at Tom Kitt's concert, I was worried he wasn't giving the song the necessary attack. But on stage he goes absolutely full-throttle with it. He starts at the top of the stairs with a mic stand, looking like the frontman of a rock band, then he brings the mic down, roaming all over the floor. At one point in the song, Natalie and Dan have an argument and Gabe comes to stand between them, looking amused as he passes the mic between them. However Gabe starts to lose some of his swagger as Diana's doctor suggests that - as 18 is the age that children typically leave home - maybe Diana should think about her son this way and finally let him go.

In the next scene, Diana is in the kitchen, clearing out Gabe's things. She holds up a baby-grow and then starts playing a music box she used to use to help Gabe to sleep. Gabe comes down the stairs with a rucksack and duffle bag, like he's a kid being kicked out of the house by his parents. Diana can't seem to go through with it as she pulls him into a dance and they end up hugging with Gabe's head tucked under his mother's chin, like a needy child. This leads into There's a World, a hauntingly beautiful song with a very sinister undertone as we learn this is Gabe leading Diana towards a suicide attempt. This song and Catch Me I'm Falling are an excellent display of Jack's high range (he'd make a wonderful Orpheus in Hadestown - the UK production is coming next year, so...please??)

Following the suicide attempt, Diana is given shock therapy and consequently loses her memories of the last eighteen years. In the early part of Act 2 and for the song Aftershocks, Gabe is up in one of the upstairs rooms, like he's been locked in a cell - not gone, but no longer able to get to Diana. When Diana finds and plays Gabe's music box, there's this very chilling sight of Gabe's silhouette, his hands pressing to the screen, as he sings along to the melody. The lighting here is eerily reminiscent of a sonogram. When Diana regains her memory of her lost son, Gabe breaks free of the room, comes down the stairs to sing his I'm Alive (Reprise) from on top of the kitchen counter. After his wife's relapse, Dan crumbles to the floor, his back pressed to the kitchen counter. Gabe disappears behind the other side of the counter, and (I'm told, I couldn't see from my angle) he sits in the same position as Dan. They both stay like this for about 15mins while scenes with Diana, Nat and Henry take place.

As Diana leaves, Dan finally rises from the floor and begins singing his I am the One (Reprise). In other videos of this song that I have seen, Gabe is played quite aggressively, stalking around Dan, goading his father into acknowledging him. Jack does this scene very differently and effectively. He stays behind the counter, his eyes downcast, his manner meek as if quietly pleading for his father's attention. When Dan yells out "Why didn't you go with her?!" Gabe leaps up onto the counter and throws his arms around Dan, desperately clinging to him. When they get to the chorus, Dan turns round to face Gabe, gripping his arms. Then at the end, Dan staggers back and tearfully says his son's name for the first time. When Gabe responds with his "Hi Dad", Jack's face his full of shocked awe. He plays it like a child realizing the father he thought hated him, loved him all along. It's a devastating moment that had everyone in tears.

After the song, Dan reaches out a hand towards Gabe, but he stops as Natalie comes downstairs. Dan tells Nat her mother has left and Nat asks him - "So it's just me and you for now?" and there's a hesitation where Dan glances at Gabe, who is still sitting on the counter. When Dan finally answers yes, it's just the two of them, Gabe's expression is accepting, not resentful like earlier in the show. As he leaves to go upstairs, Gabe gently touches Nat's hand, almost like an apology. Natalie gives the slightest reaction, as if she is sensing something. It's a beautiful resolve to Gabe's role, and when he appears for the last time for his verse in Light, he no longer feels like a malevolent spirit, but more like this serene angel watching over his family as they all try to heal and go on with lives.

This is honestly a star-making performance from Jack as a young musical theatre actor. And as much as I want Jack and the other Crows actors to be off filming their spinoff show once the strikes are resolved, I also feel strongly that Jack belongs on the stage. Between his acting, his presence and his vocals, he's sure to be a performer in demand in the West End. Here's hoping there's award nominations to come. He's deserving of them.

#jack wolfe #next to normal #gabe goodman #six of crows #wylan van eck

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