#it's a bit of a deviation but i think works in really well

[storiesforallfandoms]

the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt;five nights at freddy's

word count: 2144

request?: no

description: in which his regular ice cream spot in the mall hires a new girl

pairing: mike schmidt x female!reader

warnings: use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Mike's routine at the mall was a constant: clock in, do two laps around the mall, go for lunch with whoever else was on with him - usually Jeremiah - another few laps around the mall where he'd stop to talk to some of the store managers, then clock out and go home. The only deviations to his routine were the occasional birthday parties he'd be tasked with watching over, and whenever there was someone who needed to be handled by security.

Until he met a new worker at the mall.

He was in line for the ice cream place he would occasionally go to for a dessert after his lunch. They saw him so frequently that his order was usually ready before he even got to the counter - another usual in his routine.

But on this day, when he walked up to the counter, a new face was smiling at him.

"Welcome to Ice Cream Parties," she said. "What can I get for you?"

Mike opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Cindy, one of the usual workers, saying, "We have his order, (Y/N). He's a regular."

(Y/N)'s eyes flickered to Mike's security uniform. "Well, that does make sense. Sorry, today's my first day."

"No, that's alright," Mike said. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, but found himself staring blankly at her instead. He was sure she thought he was crazy, and that thought made his face start to heat up.

Cindy came up to the counter with Mike's usual in hand. She passed it over to him with a smile before going back to work. Mike realized then that he hadn't paid yet. As he started taking his wallet from his pocket, (Y/N) said, "On the house."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked.

She nodded. "Consider it a kind gesture for a regular."

"Well...thanks."

"No problem. It's nice to meet you, Mike."

He was about to ask how she knew his name, but she nodded to his name tag before he could.

Right, that would make sense.

"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)."

After that, visits to Ice Cream Parties became part of Mike's routine. The first few visits were under the guise of actually getting ice cream for himself and Jeremiah. If it wasn't too busy, he was able to have brief conversations with (Y/N) while his order was being made. That excuse didn't last very long, though, as eventually Jeremiah put an end to the almost daily ice cream runs.

"Man, I'm going to gain like 10 pounds a week if you keep getting ice cream for us," he had said.

Mike had to admit, he was getting sick of eating ice cream so much, too. Seeing (Y/N) so often had made it worth it at first, but there was only so much of the frozen treat he could take before it became too much. He thought he'd have to come up with a new excuse to see her all the time, but she took him by surprise by doing it for him.

He was doing his rounds during a shift when he saw (Y/N) walking towards him. She had a smile on her face and she waved when he spotted her.

"Hey!" she said. "I've been looking for you?"

"You have?" Mike asked.

"Yeah! I haven't seen you in a bit. I was worried you quit or something."

"God, no, that's not happening. This is probably the easiest job I could have. I've just...been taking a break from ice cream."

"I don't blame you. You've had so much of it lately, I'm surprised you're not just a walking ice cream cone at this point." She playfully bumped his shoulder as she added, "You know, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't need an excuse."

Mike was shocked into silence. Had it really been that obvious? He had tried to play it cool when he went, but maybe he hadn't been cool enough. Maybe it had been glaringly obvious every time he walked up to the counter and ordered whatever new flavor she recommended that he was desperately trying to figure out a way to ask her on a date.

But then she smiled and laughed, and Mike felt a weight being lifted from his chest.

"I'm joking," she said. "Mostly. If you wanna talk to me, you don't need to come buy ice cream. Just come talk to me."

"Noted," Mike said with a nod. "Well...what are you doing this evening?"

"I'm working the closing shift."

Mike tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh. I, uh, I'm off in about an hour."

"I clock in in about an hour."

"Not meant to be, I guess."

(Y/N) shrugged. "I guess not. I have to run a quick errand before work, but I mean what I said - don't be a stranger, Mike."

Mike nodded. Once (Y/N) had turned and walked away, he let himself deflate. It wasn't a "no" because she wasn't interested, but it was still disheartening. It was definitely going to take time to build up his courage to ask her again, but at least now he knew she welcomed his company.

A week or so later, Mike found himself at the mall again on his day off. He usually hated to be there when he wasn't working, but Abby started school the next week and she needed new clothes. She had been begging him for weeks to take her shopping, but he kept putting it off until he had no choice but to take her. On the plus side, Abby was extremely easy to shop with because she knew what she wanted, and she knew where to get it. It would be a quick in and out and he could be away from the mall within an hour and a half tops.

But, after leaving Abby's favorite store with the intent on going home, Abby stopped Mike and said, "I'm hungry."

"We have food at home," he reminded her.

"I don't want actual food. I want a snack."

"We have snacks at home."

"We don't have ice cream at home."

That was enough to shut him up and get him to agree. He had no idea if (Y/N) was working that day, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see her.

As luck would have it, she was working. She was at the counter in her stripped apron and white paper hat. She was passing the customer in front of them an ice cream, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Mike had come to learn the difference between her customer service smile and her real smile, because when she would look at him the dull smile would brighten just a little.

When the customer stepped away, he got to see her face light up at the sight of him.

"Oh, hey Mike!" she said. "I thought you were off today."

"I am. I had to take my sister back to school shopping," Mike said, gesturing to Abby.

(Y/N) looked down at Abby and offered her a warm smile. "Well hey there. I had no idea Mike had a sister."

"This is Abby. Abby, this is (Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, Abby."

"You too," Abby said. To Mike she added, "Is she the one you always talk to Max about?"

Mike's ears were on fire as (Y/N) looked back up at him. Abby always knew how to say the right things to embarrass him.

"Just tell her what you want," he muttered, suddenly no longer in the mood for ice cream.

Abby ordered for herself and (Y/N) went to make it. Cindy took over at the cash while (Y/N) stepped away, which disappointed Mike. Usually Cindy was the one making the orders while (Y/N) was at the cash, and they'd have their small conversations while Mike waited. He really hoped what Abby had said hadn't scared (Y/N) off completely.

She came back and handed Abby her ice cream.

"Are you guys sticking around much longer?" she asked Mike.

"We weren't really planning on it. Abby just wanted ice cream before we went home."

"I'm off in, like, 10 minutes. If you guys don't mind a third, I mean."

Mike agreed without consulting Abby. Not like the younger girl really cared either way. She was already deep into her ice cream and ignoring the whole conversation.

Mike and Abby sat at a nearby table to wait for (Y/N). Abby finished her ice cream in record time, giving herself a brain freeze. Mike couldn't help but laugh as his sister scrunched up her face in pain.

"That's why you don't eat cold foods that fast," he said.

"Do you like (Y/N)?" Abby asked through the brain freeze pain.

The quick change in topic startled Mike. "I mean...yeah. She's my friend."

"But you like her," Abby said. "You always talk about her, and I saw the way you look at her."

Mike shrugged, trying not to give Abby any other ideas. He didn't need her blurting something else out and embarrassing him again. "She's a friend, Abby. Friends talk about friends."

"Friends don't look at other friends like they want to kiss them, though."

Mike chuckled. "Some do."

Abby gave him a look. He sighed and said, "Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you permission to say stuff to her about it, okay? For now, we're just friends."

"You should ask her out. I think she'd say yes."

"It's not that easy, Abs."

"What's not that easy?"

Mike jumped at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice behind him. When he looked at her, she was already changed out of her work uniform. "Nothing. Abby and I were just talking."

He shot Abby a look to tell her not to say anything. (Y/N) looked between the two of them with a skeptical look on her face.

"Do you have a ride home?" Mike asked.

"If you're offering, then yes. I was supposed to wait around for my roommate to get me, but I'd much rather hang out with you guys and get out of here."

The three of them walked to Mike's car. Abby filled most of the silence by talking to (Y/N) about whatever came to her little mind. (Y/N) just smiled and responded as Abby spoke. Mike would sneak glances at her and smile to himself.

Abby got into the car first, and as Mike was reaching for the door handle to get in himself, (Y/N) said, "Wait."

He paused and looked up at her, confused.

"Why haven't you asked me out yet, Mike?"

The question took him completely by surprise, but that seemed to be her specialty at this point. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was some stuttered nonsense.

"I mean, if you don't like me then that's fine, I get it," she continued. "But I thought that maybe we had a connection, and I keep thinking you're going to ask me out and then you don't, and I'll be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit."

"Whoa, whoa," Mike said. "Slow down. I'm sorry that's how you're feeling, but I've been trying to ask you out. I did ask you out a few weeks ago!"

"That wasn't asking me out! You asked what I was doing and I said working. You didn't even follow up to try and figure out a different day we could've went out instead!"

"I didn't know I was supposed to do that!"

They both paused and, after a moment, they started to laugh.

"I'm clueless with this stuff," Mike admitted. "I haven't dated since high school."

"Well, here's a tip: if you like a girl, ask her out. Her liking you back is more likely than you'd think."

Mike smiled. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm sure it's not exactly the date you're thinking of, but Abby wants spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I do make a mean spaghetti and meatballs."

(Y/N) smiled back. It was brighter than her real smile. It was what Mike decided to dub her "Mike smile".

"I'd love to," she said. "I love spaghetti and meatballs."

Abby opened her car door then and looked between the two of them. "What's taking you so long?"

"Hey Abs, would it be okay if (Y/N) joined us for dinner?" Mike asked, although he already knew the answer.

Abby lit up with excitement and vigorously nodded her head. Mike and (Y/N) finally got into the car and they made their way back to Mike's place. The entire car ride he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[eilidh-eternal]

Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin. 

You need him.

You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.

Ghost.

“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.

“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”

“I can’t, I–”

“Ye’re open from two to close.”

“Book her. The full day.”

“What?!”

“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.

Well.

Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.

Fuck it.

You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.

You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.

“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I did.” 

Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.

“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.

“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”

There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.

“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?” 

What?

He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.

“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.

It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.

The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.

The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core. 

The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.

“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.

He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”

Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’

The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.

“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”

Why does he want to look at—?

The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.

“Okay…”

He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.

“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.

“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”

You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.

You have no idea what he sees in you.

He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries. 

The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.

“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.” 

It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.

“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.

“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor. 

“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.

“That so?”

“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”

“And Cap?”

“Who? Oh, you mean John?” 

“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”

“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–

“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.

“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.

Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.

Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”

You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.

“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” 

Yes.

“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”

Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.

“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.

Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy. 

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.

“Rules?” 

“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.

“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink. 

“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”

It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.

“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.

“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?” 

The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #cod fanfic #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw #cod x reader #cod x you #dub con #cw self harm

[lackadaisycats]

I tried to answer this succinctly, but it turned into an essay. (Sorry.)

The Princess and the Frog was not accurate, strictly speaking, but dinging it for that would be like criticizing the Lion King for not being a realistic wildlife documentary. Accuracy wasn't really the point. Given the fantastical elements and fictional nations like “Maldonia”, I suppose we're meant to understand this as a bit removed from the real New Orleans. It's more a a jazz-flavored fairy tale than a historical fiction.

But for discussion's sake....

Is it fashion-accurate to its 1926 timeframe? Ehhh, sort of. It pays homage to 20s fashion trends with cloche hats, furs and feathery headpieces, but without fully committing to it. The waistline on almost all of Tiana's clothing is too high for the 20s, and the the shapes of her fancier costumes take a lot of liberties, or deviate wildly from the style of the period.

In the 20s, dresses (including workaday stuff) tended to have a straight up-and-down shape to it - kind of a low-waisted rectangle that de-emphasized curves instead of highlighting them. There are valid reasons to play fast and loose with that, though (something I’m definitely guilty of as well). One of those reasons is communication. 

For instance, speculatively, the filmmakers wrote Tiana as a hard-working waitress and wanted her to look the part, so they made the choice to clothe her in something familiar - that gingham dress of mid-century shape that we broadly associate with diner waitresses. Actual waitress uniforms of the 20s had a fair bit of overlap with maid uniforms at the time too, and I can see why they wouldn't want to risk the confusion. It's more important to communicate clearly with the larger audience than to appease a small faction of fashion nerds who'd notice or care about the precision.

I don't think it's a case of the designers failing to do their research - I'm sure they had piles of references, and maybe even consultants - but they also had to have priorities.

With her hat and coat on, she looks a lot more 1920s-shaped.

Pretty consistently, the indication of the characteristic 1920s drop waist is there, but the approach otherwise ignores the 20s silhouette. The clothes hug the body too much. This may be about appealing to a 2000s audience, visually speaking, but also could be an animation thing. Maybe both. For practical reasons, clothes in 2d animation are usually more a sort of second skin than something that wears or behaves like realistic fabric.

These are not in the 1920s ballpark at all. Tiana's blue gown looks like your basic Disney brand invention. Strapless things would have been extremely unusual and the overall shape is far out of step. Excusable, I guess, because it's a costume in context. Charlotte looks like she’s heading for a mimosa brunch in a modern maxi dress.

Charlotte's princess dress did seem to be calling back to the ultra-wide pannier side hoops of the 18th century - something that made a reappearance for part of the 20s, albeit in much milder form called robe de style. I'm not sure if the filmmakers were alluding to that at all, really, but either way, her dress is hilarious.

They only went about halfway with the cloche hats. The 1920s cloche really encapsulated the cranium, almost entirely covered bobbed hair, and obscured much of the face from certain angles, so it's easy to see why they've been somewhat reined in for the film. Still, it ends up looking more 1930s, where the hats started to recede away from the face, evolving in the direction of the pillbox.

Similarly, Tiana's hair is not very reminiscent of the bobbed, close-to-the-cranium style of the period, but I think that could legitimately be written off as characterization. She's not at all the type of person who'd fuss about going à la mode. Not everyone bobbed and finger-waved their hair.

The clothes Prince Naveen is introduced in are very 1920s collegiate in spirit - the wide-leg oxford bags, the sleeveless pullover sweater, the flat cap, and high, stiff collar. The ukulele and banjolele were pretty trendy instruments at the time too.

Definitely some Josephine Baker vibes here. Also, the look of this whole fantasy sequence was reportedly inspired by the works of Aaron Douglas, a luminary painter of the Harlem Renaissance known for his depictions of the lives of African-Americans. (The mural is in Topeka, Kansas.)

They pretty much nailed the Art Deco. It's gorgeous. Looks somewhat inspired by the interiors of some of the Ralph Walker-designed NYC architecture, plus some French Quarter balcony flair for the final manifestation of Tiana's Place. Her dress here does resemble some gauzy mid-1920s looks, too.

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

Culturally speaking...

New Orleans is an unusual place. Because some of the colonial Spanish and French laws and conventions that New Orleans evolved under persisted even after its inception into the United States; because it was such a heterogeneous hub of indigenous and immigrant peoples; and because it had a considerable population of free people of color (mostly Creole), it did not function quite like the rest of the South leading up to the Civil War, nor for a while after. Its particular coalescence of cultures made it its own unique sort of culture within the country, within the region, within the state of Louisiana even. By the early 20th century, though, regardless of the not-very-binary nature of New Orleans, Jim Crow laws were enforcing a literal black-and-white distinction, and not an evenhanded one, by far. In that aspect, the city had begun to resemble the rest of the South.

The film nods at the wealth disparity, but goes on to paint a pretty rosy picture of race and class relations at the time. Still it's not unbelievable that some people were exceptions to the rules. You could probably find a few compartments of old New Orleans society that resisted segregation or certain prejudicial norms, preferring to do things their own way. That aside, the film wasn't trying to confront these topics. Not every piece of media should have to. Sometimes breaking away from miserable period piece stereotypes is refreshing. I'm not sure it could have handled that meaningfully given the running time, narrow story focus, and intended audience, anyhow. (But you could perhaps also make a case that family films habitually underestimate younger audiences in this way.)

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

Raymond the firefly I guess is the film's Cajun representation. There's not much to say about it, except perhaps to note that Evangeline is a reference to the heroine of a Longfellow poem of the same name. The poem is an epic romance set during the expulsion of the Acadians from the eastern provinces of Canada and the northernmost reaches of the American colonies (now Maine) by the British in the mid-1700s. Many exiled Acadians gradually migrated south to francophone-friendly Louisiana, settling into the prairies and bayous, where 'Acadian' truncated into the pronunciation 'Cajun'. Evangeline - who is only finally reunited with her love when he’s on his deathbed - has become an emblem of the heartbreak, separation and faithful hope of that cultural history, and there are parishes, statues and other landmarks named after the her throughout Louisiana.

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

Voodoo does have a very historical presence in New Orleans, having arrived both directly from West Africa and by way of the Haitian diaspora (where it would more properly be called Vodou). While I don't think Disney's treatment of it was especially sensitive or serious, it also wasn't the grotesquely off-base sort of thing that media of the past has been known to do. It was largely whittled down to a magical plot component, but it wasn't so fully repurposed that it didn't resemble Voodoo at all either - and that's mostly owing to the characters, because it does appear the writers pulled from history there.

It’s apparently widely held that Dr. Facilier is a Baron Samedi caricature - and likely that's true, in part - but I have the impression he's also influenced by Doctor John. Not the 20th century funk musician, but the antebellum “Voodoo King” of New Orleans. Doctor John (also called Bayou John, Jean La Ficelle, and other aliases) claimed to be a Senegalese prince. He became well known as a potion man and romance-focused prognosticator to people from all corners of society. Though highly celebrated and financially successful at his peak, he seems ultimately remembered as an exploitative villain.

To my recollection, the film sort of gingerly avoids referring to Facilier as a Voodoo practitioner directly (I think he's more generically called a witch doctor in the script?) but it does seem to imply his 'friends on the other side' are a consortium of loa. It's mostly abbreviated into nebulously evil-seeming special FX, glazing over any specificity or dimensionality, but it does also loop back around as a vehicle of moral justice. Loa are all very individualistic and multi-faceted, but they do have reciprocal rules for asking favors of them.

There's also the benevolent counterpart in Mama Odie's character. Her wearing ritual whites has a definite basis in Voodoo/Vodou practice, and her depiction as a fairy godmother-like figure isn't entirely out of step with how a mambo may have been perceived...in a very general sense. They were/are ceremonial leaders and community bastions who people would seek out for help, advice and spiritual guidance. More than just emanating matronly good vibes, though, some have wielded considerable political and economic power.

(Just my opinions here. I've done a lot of reading on the subject for research but I'm no authority with any special insider understanding of Voodoo, and I really shouldn't be relied upon as an arbiter of who has or hasn't done it justice in fiction.)

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

In summary--

Culturally, I think the film is respectably informed but paints a superficially genteel picture. The set pieces are gorgeous, but the story mostly delivers a sort of veneer of New Orleanishness. And as for fashion, well, it’s the 1920s run through a Disney filter. It’s very pretty, but it’s only as proximally accurate as seemed practical.

I don’t know that any of that really matters so much as whether or not it achieved what it intended, though. As a charming yarn and as a tribute to New Orleans and the Jazz age, I think it’s mostly successful. It’s also really beautifully animated!

#princess and the frog #disney #1920s #new orleans #jazz #fashion #voodoo #vodou #history #animation #art deco

[theneighborhoodwatch]

thoughts on the Eddie scene from the end of the commercial reel? :D

HAHA oh man. okay while i'm waiting on the results of that poll, i might as well answer this. thoughts under the cut:

so, this may be me being optimistic, but i actually don't think this is indicative of eddie being permadead or anything, and not just because i think it'd be kinda cheap to kill a character off this early into the story before we even got to really know them. rather, i think this is a pretty straightforward explanation for eddie's absence from the homewarming recordings: he spent most of the day in his office waiting to be called on, only got invited to the homewarming party once everyone else had wrapped up their shenanigans, and proceeded to disassociate so hard that he was borderline catatonic when frank managed to draw his attention away from whatever he saw when he looked beyond the veil - and it's implied that frank was the only (or at least, the first) person to notice his acute distress in the first place. in short, eddie's presence throughout the entire holiday of homewarming ended up being so inconsequential either way that he might as well have not even been worth mentioning. of course, if he is missing by the next update then like. egg on my face. but that's how i see it for now.

so, is The Void that eddie found himself in when he first opened his eyes real? i mean, certainly on some level, it must be. either it's the truth of the neighbors' world or it is simply true for home, since they were the only other entity there - and since home is at the center of their world, well...... . as for what the void represents - i feel like that's something we'll only have a clearer picture of once another character finds themselves in The Bullshit, but i can hazard a few guesses, the first and most obvious being that it's eddie accidentally piercing the veil by being just a little too OOC for the universe's liking, i.e. "silly mailman, you're the resident workaholic! you're not actually supposed to relax, that's just so this special can end!" the second interpretation - and one that i like just a bit more, if i'm being honest - is that it's a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, or that distress over a deviation from the status quo makes one more susceptible to The Horrors.

hear me out: we know from the previous show scenes in the commercial reel that feeling useless or unneeded by way of having no work to do is a really easy way to get under eddie's skin, and his agitation over that was still lingering when sally invited him to the homewarming party. he's optimistic, yes - but very cautiously so. he's not used to it. something still feels a little wrong, which presents a prime opportunity for Something (home?) to wrap their arm around his shoulder and go, "buddy, you have no fucking idea." i remember reading a post that went something like "if a person goes from 1 to 100 seemingly out of nowhere, chances are they were at a 99 for a really long time, and they were just either hiding it or didn't even realize it." i think it's something like that. Something - home? wally? one of those two acting on the other's behalf? - sees this dissatisfaction, and in it, finds an opportunity to Make Them See. Make Them Understand.

something else i can't stop thinking about is that final shot of frank at the end. on the one hand, yes, it is very sweet how frank is willing to break away from formality if it means making sure that eddie's alright. on the other hand, though.... that shot of frank feels very idolizing to me. in the sea of red, frank is the one remnant of when things were fine and dandy for eddie just a few minutes before. he's in the center of the shot, and for that split second, arguably the center of eddie's world. they're even haloed by light, like an angel. again, whether they're in a properly established relationship by this point or if this is the beginning of their relationship turning from a playful flirtationship to something deeper, it's sweet to think that this is how eddie sees frank - as a refuge from The Bullshit. but i have to wonder... is eddie prepared for the possibility (or inevitability, rather) that one day, it'll be frank in that chair? given how frank likes things "just so," how is eddie going to react if, say, frank decides that the best way to ensure eddie's safety/wellbeing is to stay away from him? Many Questions Here.

[remembers that i suggested lower one's eyes as eddie's answer to frank's esperar pra ver once] [remembers that lower one's eyes is about a judas analogue being in love with a jesus analogue] [coughs up blood]

on that note, i know some folks think that at least some parts of "bug-a-bye and goodnight" are about eddie because "that's not the kind of thing you say about a bug!!!" but the thing about that is. it might not be what you would say about a bug. but it is absolutely what frank would say about a bug.

ok i'm done. For Now.

#anonymous #ask #welcome home #wh speculation #eddie dear #franklydear #near the end anyway #edit: CHECK THE ADDITIONAL REBLOGS I ADD ONTO THIS POST A LOT

[thegoldencontracts]

what would you imagine azul’s ideal first date would be? whatever it was, he’d probably be very awkward, but would try to cover it up, of course, because azul?? being nervous?? no way!!

Don't Question Me!

Epic idea, dearest anon, I love flustered Azul hehe <3

Notes: Teasing reader bc I was in a silly goofy mood

If someone told Azul Ashengrotto that he would be closing the Lounge for an entire night just so he could deal with the anxiety he felt going out with his crush, he would've laughed in their face.

But here he was, sitting in a seat, desperately attempting to keep his composure while you looked at him with amusement in your eyes.

"Hey, Azul," you said, picking at your dinner. "Is something wrong?"

Azul hastily shook his head.

"No, not at all," he said.

You just grinned. He didn't like that look one bit.

"Really?" You said. "You seem nervous."

Azul scoffed. He couldn't let himself be so easily teased.

"Preposterous," he said. He didn't like the way your amusement only seemed to increase at that.

"You don't have to deny it, Azul," you teased. "It's normal to be nervous on a first date."

"I pride myself on deviating from the norm."

"Bold words. Can you prove them?"

What was your agenda here? Were you intending to get something from him? Was this all some convoluted blackmail attempt?

"Of course I can." Azul decided to answer your challenge. "How exactly do you intend for me to do it, then?

You smirked, as if you were completely certain that whatever you said next would render Azul defeated.

"Why don't you let me feed you, darling?"

His face warmed up. Curses.

How was he meant to respond to that? Let you? That seemed like the only way to avoid being teased here.

You sensed the embarrassment radiating off of him, if the way your grin widened was any indication.

"Unless, of course, you're too embarrassed?"

"P-Preposterous!" Azul exclaimed, cursing himself for how flustered he sounded.

"Prove it, then." You didn't give him a moment to compose himself before picking up some of the salad on his plate and putting it up to his mouth. "Say 'ah'."

What sort of game was this? It should've been so easy to just allow you, prove he wasn't flustered by intimacy, put an end to this tomfoolery of yours-

But he couldn't. His face had flushed, his palms dripping with sweat, as if this were some Herculean task rather than an act common during dates.

Why? He was ordinarily so composed - even when the most bone-chilling of insults and threats were hurled at him. He'd spent years ensuring he knew how to effortlessly navigate conversations, but it seemed like that had all been thrown out the window.

You seemed all too smug about this. That wouldn't do. He had to regain his composure.

"Apologies," he said, more mumbled. "I was merely confused at how stupid- er, unfamiliar your behavior is."

The fake Freudian slip - that usually worked. No one managed to see through it.

But, of course, it seemed you were an exception.

"You don't have to get all huffy just because you're too embarrassed to let me feed you, Azul," you crooned, and he could feel his face flush.

"I wasn't intending to call your traditions stupid, that was merely-"

"You never say the entire word when you accidentally say what you think about something," you said. "And your fist always clenches when you realize your mistake."

How did you know him so well? It was mortifying. Flattering, too, but he'd never say that aloud.

That was irrelevant. He had no defense here. What did he do?

"This is all a foolish endeavor," he said, and you merely laughed.

"Aww, is the infamous Octavinelle housewarden getting embawewassed?" Your baby talk was infuriating. "Or maybe you're just nervous?"

You really wanted to make him suffer, didn't you?

"Don't question me!" He said, sounding much louder than he intended. Curses.

He looked away, feeling his lips jut into a pout.

"I'm simply not- all that accustomed to romance."

There was something that felt oddly vulnerable about this, as if he'd just shown you his body lain bare.

He really wasn't. Before you, he hadn't even gone on a date in his life. No one wanted to get anywhere near the ugly little octopus boy from back then, after all.

Would you be the same? Had this all been some elaborate attempt to gather blackmail, or perhaps just a laugh at his expense? It certainly seemed like it.

Your face softened.

"I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, Azul," you said, seeming almost remorseful. "I just- It's so rare to see you out of your element for once. You're always so perfect, so in control that I just, uh, couldn't help but want to see more, y'know?"

That sudden shift in tone was odd.

Wait.

Had he said that out loud?

That wasn't good. He had to regain his composure, reassert himself, he wasn't just some awkward boy!

"It's nice, actually." Your odd statement pulled him from his thoughts.

"What?"

"You know, this," you said, gesturing to him vaguely. "Seeing you act- more like me. Like you're not some vaguely capitalist entity. You look cute when you get all flustered, too."

You thought he was cute? Preposterous. He wasn't cute, he was a businessman, he was intimidating.

And he was hideous. Did you honestly think highly of his appearance?

It felt- nice, in all honesty. Someone who thought he was attractive. But he couldn't assume.

"Spare me the flattery," he said, though he was smiling. "Now then-"

He stood from his seat, extending a hand.

"I'm aware our date's meant to conclude by now, but I must ask for you to continue things back in my dorm."

This was it. This was where he'd see if you were interested in continuing to date him or not. He'd picked out a weekend, made sure your schedule was completely clear, that you had no commitments to attend to. He'd kept this date short to avoid draining your energy.

Now, all that was left was to see how you acted.

You smiled, taking his hand.

"I would love that."

#twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #azul x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x you #fluff #azul ashengrotto x you #twst #twst azul

[ytsunodabrainrotbaybee]

Violet!

-> Violet! by Waterparks

Oscar Piastri x an accident prone neurodivergent reader

Essentially the three-ish times that Oscar starts fussing over you, and the one time he got it right.

Groceries, unloading groceries.

Picking up a case of bottled water was enough to have Oscar hovering. Asking if you needed him to take it from you, as he tucked a carton of milk under his arm.

Not that he didn’t try taking the water first. You shoo’d him away from the trunk of your car before he had a chance.

“You really don’t know how this works,” you stated.

“I know that last time you dislocated something it was after you got your finger stuck in a mop bucket,” he opened your apartment door for you to walk in and drop the case of water onto your counter.

“And I had no idea because you don’t express pain.”

You rolled your eyes as he took the couple of steps towards you he needed to be able to rest his hands on your waist. You stared up at his eyes, watching him blink as he stared down at you. He watched your eyes shift from one of his to the other.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked.

You didn’t answer, just wishing he could read your mind. Though some days it felt like he could, he could never understand the simple phrases that circled your mind when you couldn’t dream to force them out.

“I love you too,” he said, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before turning to start putting your things away.

~~~~

Oscar didn’t hover 24/7.

That would be unrealistic.

it was just when he got back to you after weeks, sometimes months, on the road for work.

He’d wake you up as early as he made it back and hide himself in your apartment until he felt like a normal person again. You’d go on with your life like you had been until he pulled himself up and out of your room like a bear from hibernation.

With an insatiable thirst from well over 24 hours of sleep to combat the jet lag, he started the day watching you cook breakfast.

Not a measuring cup to be seen, you’d drift from one spot in the kitchen to another with the steady destruction of a tornado. Always producing the best waffles and coffee and parfait he’d ever have. Always better than the last, despite your unwavering commitment to your recipe.

You’d reach for your favorite kitchen knife, and he’d make his way over. Your fingers held onto the fruit you cut in an unsettling fashion. He’d offer to cut the fruit for you every once in a while.

Too much of a deviation in your routine. So he settled for watching close as you shifted your hands uncomfortably to account for the knife and it’s ever shrinking victim.

~~~~

In theory, race weekends should be a sensory nightmare.

People rushed around you, stood in the garage next to some mechanics you were probably introduced to more than once. The adrenaline radiating from everyone around you, the yelling back and forth as the countdown to lights out drug on.

Weekends in the garage were the best.

you watched intently the way people dodged each other, racing back and forth to get any loose ends tied up.

As time went on, Oscar and Lando began making their own appearances in the garage as well. The former being sure to make eye contact whenever he could, seeking out a quick shaka to say “right on” and let him know you’re fine.

At that point your headphones hung around your neck. You sat in the busy noise, listening and watching with an intense focus that by the end of the event would make you more tired than anything. It’s fine. It’s more than fine.

You could always sleep better after days in the garage anyways.

~~~~

The end of the day could be a bit harder

Oscar would take extra care after race days, especially when you’ve spent the whole weekend in the garage. He’d tell you to quit overextending yourself, you’d tell him you want to see him drive.

Your head drifted downwards as you stared up over your sunglasses frames. Your AirPods tucked under your headphones blasting a playlist of the day. Both tale-tale signs of being checked out.

Oscar sat himself next to you as soon as his time in the media pen was done. He reached for your hand, which you offered without a second thought. He squeezed twice, his own signal to you asking if you’re ready.

You nodded and the two of you stood. Maybe a little quick, as you stumbled into his side. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the two of you made your way out and to wherever he had his car parked.

He chattered on to you about the race, and whatever drama it was that happened between Carlos and Pierre during the post race interviews. You nodded along, asking questions that would take him into a different area of whatever he could be excited about.

The path the two of you walked was pavement, for the most part it was very even. Not even a rock out of place. Staring down into the pavement as you walked and listened was an experience. The grey concrete shined in the sun overhead.

You let Oscar pull you to the side, away from the edge of the sidewalk. Your foot nearly slipping into the grass beside it, had your boyfriend not urged you away.

“wow I could almost feel that one,” you looked back to the edge of the sidewalk you had been walking on.

Oscar only laughed, squeezing your shoulder as the two of you continued your walk, “that’s what I’m here for, hm?”

#oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri x you #I am now a McLaren girlie #thank you #yes I am procrastinating why do you ask? #Am I projecting? Absolutely #neurodivergent reader #maybe a touch of the tism baby

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

Husband!König has many piercings, some he regrets some he admires himself from getting.

Getting in military after many years of bullying gave him lots of confidence, you can see it. From his lines in game you can understand how cocky and sure of himself he is. He’s a colonel now yes, but he was younger too. I believe he got to hookup more from his 19’s to his late 20’s, this gave him a possibility to discover himself, what he liked and to actually explore himself as a young adult. I believe he has had a brow piercing, the hole almost totally closed because he decided it was too risky keeping one on the field (image he actually rips it off because it gets stuck in something;-; ewwww) He just took it off and never really thought about putting it back in.

Classic but I do image him having a tongue piercing. Like listen, we know König eats pussy for pleasure, he would be okay with only feasting on your pussy for the rest of his life if he could choose to. So ofc, when he started to watch porn and noticed many actors having piercings, and how hot il looked while they ate pussy, he just went with it and got one. The fact that he actually went to a piercer instead of just asking Nikto for help by sticking a mf needle in his tongue and risking an infection, is actually pure luck, because our König is also a proud mf, he takes pride in being good at anything, And why wouldn’t he be able to stick a needle in his own tongue alone! (Thank god Nikto was the one to persuade him, he would’ve gotten an infection).

NOW, König has a big cock, we all know it, he knows it, everyone knows it. And how can his big attributes be highlighted if not by some downstairs piercings??? He’s got one on his tip, unfortunately removed due to the discomfort it gave him by constantly rubbing against his TOO TIGHT pants (whore). BUT DONT BE SAD! He once stumbled across a stack of porn magazines, they were old fashioned ones, probably from late 90’s, depicting naked man and women on each and every page (lol ofc they were porn magazine.)

A model in particular captured his attention, his soft dick resting on the side of a thigh, he could see the small piercings along the under part. Thank god König is also a tech genius, he works with advanced technology every day, so a silly and fast google search brings him to what he is looking for, that strange piercing’s name. Yes everyone, a Jacob’s ladder ;). He’s got one, his dick all hot and bothered form the moment he saw that model’s picture, because he was sure that it would feel SO GOOD to be inside a nice hot pussy, feeling how after each and every thrust the piercings would drag around the insides of a girl, making a moaning mess out of her.

Yes he got one, and he was very careful with it, König is a pretty clean lad, he may not have a skincare, may not use fancy lotions and shampoos, but he knows his routine, he keeps himself clean, even more now that he got the piercings. Well I think he got them in his 30’s, he was already mature enough to understand if he could or couldn’t take care of such an important body modification, and he went for it. He got it done when he knew he’d have the most time off from work, where he knew he could spent at least a few months outside the base and actually be able to care for the wound. Very sexy mature choice woof woof bark bark snarl gnawn

He has a failed lip piercing guys, if got ripped off when a bullet hit his face and scarred a bit of his lips, destiny wanted for the bullet to be deviated exactly by his lip piercing. He’s got a bit of a trauma now, refusing to get another one, but still grateful that the first one kinda saved his life and his face from the possibility of a fucking hole being planted inside of it. He was so sexy too, you have seen a pic (yes a pic, I never see anyone talking about how they actually have technology incorporated in their lives! They take pics guys! Like boomers probably, but they do!) you may try to convince him to get one again, and who knows, maybe he’ll actually consider, but only because YOU asked!! Image now the contrast of his tongue piercing and his lip one while he eats you out, woof woof bark, I’d faint.

#cod x reader #cod #cod mwii #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader smut #konig x reader #konig call of duty

[arthurtaylorlester]

malevolent season 4 was... something, that's for sure

i want to preface this by saying i LOVE malevolent as a show and this is no means an attack on the creator or anything like that, i don't think i'll ever stop listening halfway, no matter how i feel about it. i'm not saying season 4 is all bad either.

it is a deviation for malevolent, though i found it VERY well written up until part 31 (and part 31 is my favourite malevolent episode ever)

s4 started off really strong for me, part 29 set the tone really well, much lighter after s3's emotional lows. the butcher was an interesting enough new villain to put yarson aside for now. part 30 had some charming moments, but the real star of the early season was part 31, a truly incredibly written and directed look into arthur's psychology. it truly gave us everything, from lore to highly comedic moments (to me)(no because why was arthur dreaming of waking up next to a shirtless man who tried to kill him)

parts 32 through 34 i'm not sure about, but i can write them off as awkward mid season points. part 34 was an interesting shift in perspective, but here is where my doubt's about the season's villains started rising

but the oscar & scratch arcs.... guys i'm gonna be honest, i might be oscar's #1 hater

scratch and oscar in this season were functionally useless filler. it's not unusual for arthur and john get sidetracked during their missions, but it usually ends up leading them right where they need to be by the season finale. this felt like a parenthesis that killed any tension created by the butcher.

this season had, quite unnecessarily, 3 antagonists. now this wouldn't be a terrible idea, had they been established before. but no. for some reason it was chosen to leave the only villain we could genuinely be afraid of alone, in favour of introducing not one but two antagonists yet to be established. neither because of this have the adequate fear factor (the butcher is better about this) and both get the most abysmal ends i could've imagines. what do you mean scratch is just gone like that after causing some emotional conflict with his deal. what do you mean the butcher was KOed by the fucking priest with a bedpan? what? that's it? you expect me to be scared or even care about the butcher now?

speaking of the priest. i want to like oscar i really do but. he's a terribly written character. we get to know him while arthur is teaching john intimidation tactics so out of gate our initial impression of him is as someone meek. and then in part 36 after "sorting out" the butcher, oscar just dumps out his trauma point blank to someone he's spoken to a handful of times in the past 3? 4? days.

malevolent in general has a bit of an exposition problem, but it usually works out if it's john expositing because. that's literally all he can do. but when a character with more agency do it, it makes them flat. oscar didn't have to tell us all that, he didn't have a reason. arthur confessing to 7 murders isn't a prompt to make himself vulnerable like that. i did not start caring for him, just because he had a tragic backstory. that's... not how you get someone to care about a character. oscar could be defined as a static character, and while it's not too unusual for a static character to be the focal point of an arc, i don't think it works the way most authors think it does.

also the worms in the farm only happened because of him messing with the stove so like. that's not helping his case.

the completely unnecessary farm arc concluded, we return oscar to the hospital, with arthur caving very quickly to john's demands if he truly cared about oscar so much. and so, a single episode before the finale, we get properly acquainted our main ally for the showdown. a choice definitely, but i feel like this one worked out pretty well considering noel had time to simmer before we got know of his past + he had interesting conflict with john and arthur.

and then there's the big one, the thing that appalls me entirely. leaving larson and yellow, the main villains of the finale COMPLETELY alone until the very end. why? why would you choose to not use them earlier? we spent so much time away from larson, so we weren't really as scared of him as we were at the end of part 28 (i literally was listening to the last 15 minutes of this ep on my toes because i thought he might do something) and we had had no CHANCE to even fear yellow, since we knew nothing of his power?

and what, the butcher is on our side now because noel granted his release? just like that? i know he's a contract killer but arthur insulted him to his face, he can believe they understand each other but did he feel no anger?

the finale did well, considering the context it was given to work with, though i did not understand the point of the memory thing... that didn't go anywhere? because not arthur nor noel actually lost anything. we don't know what the box was for, we only know some guy wrote "the birth of my son" on slip of paper and put it in. arthur assumed it was a memory, when it just as well could've been a literal offering, arthur assumed it would involve losing said memory, and they assumed it was related. initially i thought it would only go through if the ritual took place, which, it didn't. but reading back here is no further clarification on it. hold your angst horses, blindfaith enjoyers

i feel like john physically manifesting, if now an established power of his, was very cheap. unless it was a one-off, or some sort of power up, it just literally took away the main premise of the show. an all-powerful god rendered powerless by being stuck in some guy's mind and being forced to confront the troubles of someone infinitesimal to him. if you let him astral project and save people, then what's the point?

but i do actually think it was a one-off, so we'll see how it goes

simply put, john saving arthur when he jumped in s3 had more impact than this because he did it with a single, human, hand. no magic.

it was pleasant to have kayne and his expected chaos back, jarring as always. john's deal was exactly what we all thought it was going to be, maybe more about himself than arthur, but i don't think anyone can fault him for that.

one things though, and this questions may just be me not remembering, is arthur supposed to know that yellow is a separate entity from john when they realise larson has him in his head? because i remember arthur just assuming that 'yellow' just had all of his memories returned in part 23, and therefore not knowing that he's a separate guy from john.

just in general, i feel like s4 had a LOT of good ideas that weren't given enough room to breathe and therefore weren't written very well that really weighed down my enjoyment of the season. that's not to say there weren't things i liked. the emotional moments hit just as hard, like reconciling with daniel, the comedy was on point (genuinely this season was so funny) and even the most out of pocket thing arthur has ever said, calling john a child, no matter how much discourse it caused, was actually sort of in character for him? i mean arthur is an asshole so like i get why his immediate reaction to his severely emotionally unintelligent friend being possessive is babying him. they're awful people. they deserve each other. it made somewhat sense in retrospect.

all this to say, while i didn't hate s4, i think it had a lot of writing issues, especially when comparing it to the other 3, and it could've been done WAYY better but hey we all have our moments.

i await anxiously intermezzo's public release and the rest of season 5 👀

#if there are any mistakes please point them out haha! #and if you have any counterarguments i'll gladly hear them #always down for a debate :) #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent critical #malevolent neg #< in case #masked #harlan if you see this it's on YOU #arthur lester #john doe #oscar malevolent #collins malevolent #the butcher malevolent #mr scratch #detective noel #charlie dowd #wallace larson #yellow malevolent #the king in yellow #kayne malevolent #unhinged aromantics

[tunastime]

A Gear of the Heart, Starting

just a little something I wrote for somebody's (@shepscapades) birthday back in November :3 after I asked what etho and bdubs would've been like shortly after etho's deviation. this is the few times before last life where bdubs realizes etho might be a good friend, and how their relationship changes. comes right before A Gear of the Heart, Turning! (4653 words)

Etho remembers quite a bit.

He remembers the ricochet of the explosion through his left side. He remembers a dozen errors across his vision, showing every unit damaged by the blast, the fractals of fracturing snaking up his arm, the shattered remains of his central programming lingering like a livewire. 

Over and over he can remember the pitch of Bdubs’ voice and had to wonder his own diagnosis at that moment. Bdubs watching his android die in his name—he remembers that, too. Bdubs didn’t even ask for that. It was something Etho gave to him. He’s not sure he could even say why, either. 

It remained a bitter flavor he couldn't identify, even as Xisuma assured him he was okay. Something had happened then, sitting on that floor, thirium in hand. Some movement in his chest he couldn’t place. It wasn’t anything physical, but it felt like some gear of his nonexistent heart had started, turned—rotated. And all he could do was ask himself why. What’s he supposed to do with that?

He doesn’t know. Fine. 

Etho goes back to work at someone’s request. Not even his own request, either, so he has to wonder if maybe Doc put him up to it. Him being Bdubs. Him being Bdubs who shifted back and forth on his feet at Etho’s door—a facade of a base in the process of being designed. If one could even call it a base, yet.

And even though he was increasingly certain that Bdubs had been told to ask—and Etho asked him if he’d been asked to help, and he was adamant about asking by himself, that’s what he said. He said: “You think I gotta be told to ask people for help? I can’t just be doin’ things on my own?” and it had felt so much like doublespeak that Etho didn’t even fight to differentiate his tone. 

But Bdubs had asked if he wanted to help with the horse course. Terraforming—it should be right up his alley, if he’s still into that kind of stuff. Figured he was the expert—or so it goes. Etho had nodded. He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do. He supposes he could have easily said no. 

But every part of him yearned to say yes.

So he did.

The dust sifts through his fingers.

Etho perches in the grass, partially hunched as he leans over his line of redstone, shrouded by the hill half-built around him. He’d spent most of the week prior carving out the lines of the track, setting posts for buildings, laying out blueprints for Bdubs to finalize. Today, he lays his line meticulously, dust shifting in his hands. They still shake a bit—nothing a human would notice, nothing that disrupted the flow of his lines, but the overworked gears still shifted in protest as he worked. He could see the faded overlay of the project in his vision if he focused. It crackled, slightly blue-yellow, orange glowing indicators where action was needed, where there were mistakes to be corrected.

It isn’t his redstone to fix. The lines under his hands were—freshly laid by his near-expert technique—but the deeper lines, noteblock announcements, droppers, doorgates, the flourish of the house course, weren’t. Etho smooths out the line he was standing near with his thumb. 

There was nothing wrong with the laid redstone, really. It’s just. Well. It’s not even. It takes up so much space. It lacks the efficiency and tidiness he practiced to a precision. It radiated Bdubs in an overpowering way, one that might turn a gear of the heart—one he didn’t have, of course. Etho’s lines are neat, rigid, conforming to his perfect mental map. 

He lets down his section of dust, drifting over to the dispenser system. He pushes a line further into place, brushing dust back from the side. Further on, where the line crosses, he readjusts it, he smooths them from start to end of line. His hands work where his mind recalculates, looking for errors along the redstone already laid out by Bdubs. Programs bubble up to assist; he dismisses a message, and another as he works. The line straightens from source to sink. 

As he passes, searching for another correction, he hears someone above him. In the corner of his vision, another message notification pings: from Bdubs.

They’re all from Bdubs, actually, now that he notices in full. He blinks, mouth twisting into a frown. Whoops.

He hears someone—Bdubs, he realizes, as he notes the fall of his feet, and the sigh he hops down from his horse, the shuffle of said horse, hooves on grass—clear their throat. Bdubs shuffles around as Etho moves back over to his finished redstone, dusting his hands on the sides of his pants. He lifts the small bag of dust, twisting the tie shut around his fingers as he travels back up the line to recheck the connections. 

“Etho?” Bdubs calls. Etho straightens, just on instinct alone, glancing up at the stretch of sky he can see. It’s bright blue, barely dotted with clouds, and the grass looks warm with sun. He fixes where the dust starts as he sections off the end, tossing the rest of the redstone over to his sling bag.

“Under the hill!”

Bdubs leans over the edge, tilting his head at Etho as he peers into the dark. It takes him a moment to find Etho’s face, partially obscured by black fabric and the fluff of wool around his collar. Etho tilts his head, raising his eyebrows.

“Did you need something?” he asks, arm hanging loosely by his side. Bdubs frowns, too, watching Etho’s expression. As his eyes seem to adjust to the dark, his gaze falls on the lines of redstone. He pauses there for a long moment. In that moment, Etho feels something in his chest grind, almost to a noticeable ache. If he could pull in a breath to settle it, he might have, but the sensation and minute sound passes as soon as he moves his hand to press flat against his regulator. Bdubs is gone when he looks up, reappearing only as he drops into the cavern, catching himself on the wall. He readjusts his cloak around his shoulders, shuffling into the low-light.

“Etho,” he says, still frowning. Etho looks him over. He watches Bdubs set his hands on his hips, but his heart rate stays even and his temperature level. The only thing that changes is the tone of his voice, fluctuating with a pattern Etho recognizes as forcing something. Bdubs takes a long breath in and lets it out. Etho’s eyes find the twitch of his fingers as he folds his arms, rather than the sharp curve of his mouth.

“Yes?” Etho asks. He feels his pump work a little harder. It kind of hurts still, whatever’s stopped working in his chest. He flicks his eyes, recalling a diagnostic, setting it to run in the background as he closes out of the overlays and the world returns to yellowish-grey. Bdubs is still frowning.

“You mind tellin’ me what’s wrong with this redstone?”

Etho blinks. The diagnostic comes up clear.

“What do you mean?” he says, his expression shifting into something copying amusement. He’s trying. He’s at least trying to mimic the emotions he sees. Soon enough it’ll feel natural, he’s certain. “What’s wrong with it?”

Bdubs snorts, which turns into a laugh, which turns into Etho smiling a bit wider, a bit more confusion lingering in his expression as he leans around Bdubs to check his meticulously placed line. Bdubs turns away from him, facing the system, the clock that linked the start gates to the timer below.

“What’s—” Bdubs scoffs, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with it? Etho—” he holds out his hand, waving Etho over. Etho lingers at his shoulder as he steps forward, peering over the curve of it and the moss and small leaves and flowers draped over his neck. “It’s too perfect.”

Etho makes a sound like a scoff now, a caught sound in his vocal unit, a stuttering start to his sentence that doesn’t form right away. He’s trying for surprise, the pitch of his voice rising unexpectedly.

“It’s too perfect?” he asks. 

Bdubs nods. After a moment, Etho thinks he sees his expression shift, the high of his cheek rising. When Bdubs turns his head to look at him, just for a second, Bdubs is smiling.

“Bdubs,” Etho says, sighing, turning away from him, to his bag on the far side of the room. He shakes his head. That something-nothing in his chest flutters and fades and disappears all at once, instead replaced with the urge to smile back. Bdubs laughs, and Etho can imagine him tipping his head back, mouth curved up as he giggles to himself. Etho shakes his head. As he starts to pull away from Bdubs, he feels him catch his sleeve, holding fast to his elbow.

“Etho, wait—” Bdubs giggles. “It looks really good.”

Etho raises his eyebrows. Caught in Bdubs grasp, all he can do is look at him, head tilted, trying not to let the amusement show on his face. Bdubs giggles, face breaking again as he does.

“Etho…” he tries again, fighting back a smile. Etho tilts his head the other way, as if to prompt him further, looking for anything. He stays silent. Bdubs hand lowers slowly, that smile faltering just a fraction. Maybe he thinks Etho’s upset with him. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “You gonna say anythin’? Or you just gonna stand there?”

Etho smiles, finally. He shrugs a little, glancing over at the fixed lines of redstone.

“I fixed your redstone,” he says cooly, sticking his free hand in his pocket. Bdubs blinks. He jerks away as Etho’s smile grows, shoving him hard in his shoulder. Etho wobbles for a moment, smiling to himself, scrunching up his face as Bdubs’ expression morphs. He does laugh, after a beat, poking Etho in the shoulder as he does. Etho hopes he can see the smile in his eyes. He saves, logs, keeps this moment. He’s sure in the low light that his LED spins yellow for a moment. It feels right. If there’s any feeling to catalog.

Bdubs huffs. Etho thinks he hears him say something under his breath. It sounds a lot like thank you.

It’s out of habit, rather than obligation, that Etho finds himself back at the horse course. Of course he ends up here, his feet moving him about as if his brain-not-brain had no thoughts of its own. Man. Some days, it really felt human.

He wanders across the plain, eyes lingering on fully-built buildings, knowing the schematics and plans, watching as those plans-now-buildings stretched higher above his head, where they nearly threatened to pop the sky wide open. 

Bdubs had sat down with him earlier that week, papers spread out between them. He’d stopped by, actually—worked his way up the mountain to the base Etho had finally finished, papers in hand, looking like he was on the verge of collapse. He’d dropped the blueprints on the largest table Etho had managed to clear, spreading out the designs for huge, complex buildings. Etho watched him explain, listened for the inflection of when to offer suggestions, heard the way Bdubs’ voice grew quieter, almost conspiratorial, as he explained his palette. There was something methodical in the way Bdubs spoke, not only in the approach to his colors, but to his style. As much as it seemed eclectic and strange, he watched the pieces fall together as Bdubs spoke of his gradients. There was something deeper there, a precision that Etho, all of a sudden, in that room, craved to emulate. To write to disk. To save. To do more than just copy. 

He’d built the horse stable first—all to his own specifications. It was Bdubs later who came in to detail, tilling up the dirt around to plant grass and flowers, sectioning off parts of the empty stable. It was almost difficult to compartmentalize that Bdubs was finished with it now. That they’d worked each line of the redstone and Etho had supervised the first steps of building, and now he could look up and see the very top, or almost, if he were to strain, of the spikes above the buildings. 

And in just a few weeks, Bdubs was onto another project. Etho smiles to himself. He can’t help it. There was something rather comforting about that. Something about Bdubs dragging him along to help, pointing him toward the thing he was good at, and asking for help. Bdubs showing up at his door with plans. Bdubs cracking jokes with him, and looking for a laugh Etho couldn’t replicate yet. It’s like something clicked. Or was just on the breach of it. And Etho liked it.

Etho clears his field of view, taking in, instead, the stretch of sky where it met the ocean, along the line of hills and grass and flowers, and further still, to the smudge that looked like Bdubs. He blends in too well—the green of his coat barely noticeable against the field of grass that splayed out from the side of his build. There were still materials strewn about—chests half opened, shulkers stacked waist high. 

Bdubs stands to the side of a dark grey and white horse, one hand placed on its nose, the other digging through his bag. Etho watches for a moment. Bdubs fishes around for that entire second that he lingers, searching for something, until he pulls out an apple. Another falls to the ground, rolling away from him. He holds out the fruit for the horse as Etho clears his throat. 

“Hiya, Bdubs—” he says as Bdubs startles, twisting around to see him. He huffs, an immediate frown coming to his face. Bdubs turns to fetch the dropped apple, holding it high above his head as the grey horse nudges its nose into his empty hand. He pats it instead.

“Etho,” he says, tone thin. He sighs, shaking his head. “Scared the life outta me, you know that? You gotta make some noise when you’re walkin’ around.”

Etho smiles, a nice and easy reaction to the annoyance in Bdubs’ voice. It’s getting easier. At least a bit. The smiling part, that is. The inflection that comes with being happy.

“I’ll try next time,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. His hands find his pockets as he looks around, eyes following the path around the buildings. He’s sure the pollen and moss will be stuck to his clothes for days before he gets them out.

“Mm,” Bdubs hums, unconvinced. “I’m sure you will. Now, what’re you doin’ here? You don’t have anything better to do?”

“That’s a good question,” Etho says.

Bdubs turns back to him for a second, just a glance over his shoulder as he cocks his head to the side. He raises his eyebrows before he turns back to the horse, who’s started to nose at his bag. He drags his hand down its nose.

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t have an objective right now?”

“I never have an objective, Bdubs.”

Bdubs snorts again . Etho steps over, slow, minding the horse. It sniffs as Etho holds out his hand, nosing his gloved palm. He pats the horse's nose, somewhat stilted, smoothing over the soft bridge of his nose.

“Right,” Bdubs hums. When Etho glances over to him, Bdubs glances away, as if he’d lingered as Etho stepped over. He’s not moved from Etho’s side, which. Makes something fit into Etho’s chest in a way he isn’t expecting. He rests his hand on the horse's head, looking over at Bdubs in full.

“I can’t come see how the horse course is looking, now that you’re done?” he asks. Bdubs makes an embarrassed sounding noise, watching the rise of the buildings to their left. The horse sniffs, and Etho lifts his hand away, letting it fall to his side.

“I—I got excited about it,” Bdubs mutters. If Etho leans enough, he can see the beginnings of a flush creep over his cheeks, up the shell of his ear. Something about that, too. Etho looks beyond him, though, studying the rise of the buildings as Bdubs does. He nods to himself.

“I can tell,” he says, amusement slipping into his voice, almost naturally. Immediately, Bdubs whips around again, face twisted in offense.

“Hey!” he snaps. “You makin’ fun of me?”

Etho shakes his head, spreading his hands out in front of him as he does.

“No, no. Not at all,” he says, hoping the smile he’s giving is reaching his eyes. “I’m saying we make a pretty good team.”

Bdubs makes a little huff of a sound, but his posture and expression softens. Etho studies it from the moment it appears, trying to place the emotion behind it. He seems upset—but not from anything Etho said. He almost looks guilty.

“We’ve always made a good team,” Bdubs mumbles. Etho blinks.

“Since when have we been a team?”

“Since—s…” Bdubs blurts, then backtracks, folding his arms over his chest. “Well we’re a team now!”

Etho raises his eyebrows, stepping away from the horse and more around Bdubs’ side. He leans in a bit as he stands by his side, bumping their shoulders together. Bdubs doesn’t recoil. Instead, he pushes back, just for a moment, and they jostle. Bdubs hums, sighing through his nose.

“Are we?” Etho asks. Bdubs nods, short and firm.

“Mhm! ‘Cause I said so.”

Etho nods with him. There’s that thing again, a turning, jostling, in some part of his chest that really shouldn’t turn or jostle. He can feel his temperature tick up just a few degrees, a fan kicking on to settle the temperature, thirium sludging warm to cold through his limbs. A team, huh? He couldn’t beat Bdubs’ conviction, that’s for sure. Maybe it was a bit of guilt, then. Maybe something in Bdubs had realized Etho was much more of a help than a hindrance. Maybe Bdubs wanted a friend. Maybe he just felt bad and the feeling bad got to a point where he had to just do something about it. Etho didn’t know. He didn’t live inside Bdubs’ brain. And picking at Bdubs’ every emotion was a task enough to drive his processor into the ground. He could already feel another spike in temperature, LED glowing yellow-blue. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Etho sticks his hands in his pockets.

“I’d like that,” he says, finally pushing out the words as his programming jumps into gear, “What’s our next project then?”

Bdubs goes back to jostling him before he turns away, moving from Etho’s side to collect his horse. Gathering the horse's reins in his hands, Bdubs pauses.

“Ooh…” he says, frowning a little. Etho watches the little furrow of his eyebrows—thinking. Bdubs is turning the idea over in his head. Bdubs steps back over with the horse in tow, already walking in the direction of the horse stable. Etho jolts forward, taking several big steps to match Bdubs’ pace. “Well why don’t you come back to the clock and we can talk about it, huh?”

“That sounds nice.”

Bdubs makes an affirmative sound, leading the horse around and into the stable. Etho watches him unlatch the gate, ushering the horse into the pen.

“I can put the kettle on and everything,” Bdubs says. He lifts the bridle out of the horse’s mouth, running his hand along the length of the horse’s nose. Etho doesn’t mean to watch him as he does, but the action is so purposeful. There’s a moment where Bdubs’ expression is unreadable—unreadable as in Etho simply can’t place anything on it. Unreadable in the amount it changes—something softer than he’s seen, something far away. Bdubs’ whole demeanor seems to shift as he stands still for a moment. Etho isn’t sure what to do with himself. He’s just standing in straw and dirt and stones, all of which he can feel under his shoes. He shuffles a bit, back and forth, to make his presence known, before he says:

“You know I can’t drink anything, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs rolls his eyes, squinting over at him, stepping away from the horse to hop the gate.

“Well you can at least fake it,” he grumbles. He folds his arms again, wrinkling his nose at Bdubs as Bdubs leads him out of the pen and into the open field around the horse course. The shadow of the buildings above them hasn’t changed, yet. The sun is still high and warm in the sky.

Etho laughs. At least, he makes a sound that he thinks passes as a laugh. Bdubs laughs too, though, so it must sound pretty convincing. He nods, the smile on his face feeling much more natural than he ever could have expected. 

“I could fake it,” he laughs. “Sure.”

Bdubs grins at him. It’s nice. It makes the walk back to his base a little more bearable.

By the time Etho gets his invitation to the life game, he’s grown accustomed to being at Bdubs’ side again. He wanders around Bdubs’ base like he knows it, makes it a spot he chooses to map, to memorize. Bdubs checks in on him when he isn’t around as much—asks him how his builds are going, wonders if he needs help. Bdubs lingers in his spaces too, like a plant trying to root, gives himself reasons to stand in doorways just a bit longer, just enough to extend their goodbyes. It feels right—in a way that almost gives reason to Etho’s deviation. Maybe, deep down, from their first introduction, Etho had decided to glue himself to Bdubs’ side and not become unstuck. Maybe he’d simply put that decision, his first ever decision, into motion that day. It didn’t matter much as to why anymore.

When Etho gets his letter, he doesn’t open it. He holds it between two fingers, turning it over and over. He doesn’t need to read it to know what it says. There’s a dark red seal on the back, shaped like a heart. He makes a little sound, some sort of click in the back of his mouth, before he stuffs the letter in his pocket, half-folded.

He finds Bdubs exactly where he expects. Bdubs is sitting cross-legged in his garden, hands in the dirt, when Etho arrives at the crescent moon base. If he looks closely enough, Etho can still tell that Bdubs’ own letter sits on his window sill in the kitchen, unopened. But he’s really squinting to notice, so he writes it off for now as a flaw in his own sight. 

Bdubs turns to him as he walks up. His hair is pushed back away from his face with his bandana, and his hands are covered in dirt, and he’s got a streak of black soil across his forehead that Etho tries not to look at for too long. Bdubs shoots him a toothy grin, going back to his bright orange tulips. If Etho looks long enough, he could probably guess the soil mixture, and tell him if it's good enough to be planting orange tulips in, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes to stand behind him and Bdubs hums in greeting.

“Etho,” he says, looking up again, wiping the dirt from his forehead. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Etho says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He forgets who he picked the gesture up from, but it’s become part of his natural body language patterns now, so he won’t be stopping it anytime soon. “I just came to see how you were doing.”

“How I was doin’, huh?” Bdubs asks, amusement trickling into his voice. Etho smiles, feeling his face pull.

“Mhm,” he says. “That’s right. I can’t come and check up on a friend?”

Bdubs laughs, sticking his spade in the dirt.

“Oh, we’re friends now?” he says, still giggling as he turns around. “I thought we were just a team.”

Etho watches him lean back on his hands, legs coming out from under him. He tries to read Bdubs’ expression and voice for any note of insincerity, or play, or teasing, but doesn’t find anything he normally associates with Bdubs. This just feels true.

“I mean, I figured with how much we’ve been working together…” Etho starts, to which Bdubs startles, waving his hands.

“No, no!” Bdubs yelps. “Etho, I thought the same thing! I just wasn’t expectin’ it from you.”

Etho blinks. It feels owlish, small, almost a wrong reaction to hearing Bdubs say something like that. But it’s what immediately happens, before he tries to open his mouth, and no sound comes out. He waits for a moment. He assumes his LED spins, maybe even red, as Bdubs watches him, face paling.

“Oh,” Etho says quietly.

“We’re friends,” Bdubs says, voice much smaller than Etho’s ever heard it. “‘S that alright with you?”

Etho feels like the proper response would be to laugh, if he could really feel anything at all besides every gear in his chest halting and restarting themselves. He makes a noise that sounds almost like a cough.

“Mhm,” he says. He watches Bdubs’ shoulders relax and finds that his own posture sinks with it. 

“Good,” Bdubs says, nodding along. “Was there anything else you wanted to scare me with?”

Etho knows this tone—playful. Teasing. He works up a smile and fishes the letter from his pocket, slightly bent. Bdubs’ eyes flick right to it, right to the red seal pressed into the paper. Immediately, he scrambles up, reaching for the note in Etho’s hands. Etho lets him grab it in his dirt-covered fingers, even as Bdubs tries frantically to dust off his hands as he notices. Bdubs turns it over itself, glancing up at Etho.

“It’s for you?”

Etho nods.

“It was on my doorstep this morning,” he says. “I can see you’ve got one in your window?”

Bdubs snorts, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I haven’t opened the damn thing. I’m excited up until the point I’m not, ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose again.”

Etho hums. As Bdubs hands him back the letter, Etho rests his hand on his shoulder, giving it a hesitant, light squeeze. Bdubs looks quickly down at it, before he’s back to staring at Etho’s face.

“Don’t worry, Bdubs,” he says, hoping his voice is full of amusement and affection like he feels like it is. “You’ll have me there this time!”

And Bdubs laughs, full and warm in his chest, and Etho jostles him around as he does, until Bdubs is smacking his shoulder and wiggling free. He picks up his fallen hat and his tools, and Etho follows him around the side of the house as he puts things away. As he shuts one of the chest, Bdubs says:

“You mean that, though? You wanna be on a team?”

Etho smiles, feeling his eyes squint, forces every ounce of new feeling into his words when he says:

“I don’t think I wanna team with anyone else, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs’ grin in excitement is more than enough to convince him he’s made the right choice.

It’ll be a long two weeks until the death game starts. When he returns home later that night, Bdubs’ plans for success turning over in his brain, recording for later, Etho reads over the letter enough to commit the page to memory. He keeps it safe internally as the letter finds its way to his bookshelf, half-sealed. Through him, like it’s just under the skin, runs an emotion he’s not yet familiar with. He hopes it's a good one, at the very least. He hopes so, as much as an android, a machine, someone just now familiar with the idea of free will, can hope. 

It feels good, though. And something makes him think that everything will turn out just fine.

#hermitcraft dbh au #dbhc #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #dbhc etho #dbhc bdubs #ethubs #mcyt #mcyt fic #hermitcraft fic #text #hermitshipping #dbhc fanfic #fics #SCREAAAAMS SO LOUDLY AT THE TOP OF MY LUUUUNGS #DBHC I MISSED YOUUUUU #so i wrote this for shepherd for her birthday back in november!! yaaay!! #but i'm just now posting it LMAOOO #it takes place shortly before gear of the heart turning! #we love and stan dbhc in this house < so normal and definitely not insane about it #smiles :) #definitely not being dragged back into dbhc by the scruff of my neck nooo nevarrrr #oooh you wanna ask me about gear of the heart so bad ooooooh aaahhhh

[yujajacha]

welcome home

pairing: rei suwa x reader

synopsis: rei doesn't like working, preferring to laze around all day. however, coming back home to you always cheers him up. one day, he comes home to you in a maid dress.

wc: 4.5k

cw: nsfw/mdni, fem!reader, sub!reader, maid dress, fingering, blowjobs, penetration, master, rough sex, etc

notes: my first full fic.. enjoy and happy valentines! btw i will edit tags and formatting later :3 also this deviates from canon —> no miri or kazuki.. sorry o_O + posted on ao3 here ! thanks for reading!!

your doorbell rings. you drop what you’re doing and excitedly rush to the door, wishfully hoping it to be your boyfriend, rei, returning home early. it isn’t him, which is what you actually expected. he’s been gone on a mission for most of the day, and it was planned that he should be back much later. you aren’t that disappointed though, as your interest is shifted to the delivery. it ended up being a package you ordered recently. it was actually an order that you ended up forgetting about, despite the contents not being forgettable. you have other stuff to do before opening it, so you decide to put it aside for later, placing it in your room and opting to finish your endless list of daily tasks.

awhile has passed since the delivery that shooked your routine and luckily many things around the house we’re getting done. rei’s pile of used cigarettes were thrown out properly, his endless pile of new games put away, his messes (empty chip bags and more) on the couch were cleaned up, the laundry was washed and folded, packages were packed away and more. rei should be back soon, at least you’re expecting him to come back in not too long. you’re aware he won’t be back just yet, but this gives you enough time to prepare your surprise.

in the meantime, you finally decide to open your package. everything was neatly packed. while opening it, you’re starting to get embarrassed. it’s a maid outfit and it’s making you feel really shy. the material is great and all the frills are cute. the order comes with cute accessories, and the dress itself is really your style, it’s just a bit revealing as well. there’s no way you’re gonna let yourself get cold feet, especially knowing how much rei would enjoy it, but the idea of wearing all of this is making your headlight.

you sheepishly try on the headpiece. you decided that they’re pretty cute. with a bit of hesitation, you start putting on the rest of the costume. you put on the dress, then add the apron, the arm accessories and the matching thigh highs. it fits pretty nicely and is rather flattering on you, and you shyly admire yourself in the mirror. after sheepishly putting everything on, you patiently wait for his arrival as you assume he should be finally home.

there’s finally a faint rustling of keys that can be heard in the distance. your body shifts towards the noise. “i’m home,” rei announces, locking the door and removing his shoes while making his way through the front door.

upon hearing this sound, you make your way towards the front and come greet him with a shy “welcome.” you can’t meet his eyes out of embarrassment and just end up looking away. you can feel his gaze piercing through you.

whenever he comes back home after a mission, rei’s always pleased with seeing your face cheerfully come greet him. just thinking about you makes him feel better anyways. however, this time not only is he greeted by you, which is already such a treat, but also you’re wearing those clothes. it takes him a second to take everything in. the kind of clothes that make his pants feel unbelievably tight. he can’t lie to himself, he is so pleasantly surprised by all this. he thinks it’s really cute of you to want to surprise him by acting like his maid, it wipes the scrowl off his face immediately. he just stares at you, taking all the details of your outfit in and observing the cute expressions on your face as well as how your body looks so good. the clothes just flatter you so well.

“how was work?” you stutter out, trying to make conversation while ignoring your obvious choice of attire. you want to wait until he brings it up, which you know he will do so promptly.

rei puts his hands around your waist, and proceeds to bring your body closer to his. you look up towards him, bringing your face into his and give him a welcome back kiss, something you always make sure to do. he always enjoys your kisses the best. this time it’s honestly more like a peck. you can tell he likes it anyways, and gladly accepts the peck. the way you’re acting shy, as if you’re not the one who decided to put this all on your own, gets him really going. he puts his face into your neck and rubs it like the cat he is. he then gives it a kiss. “it was ok,” he eventually speaks out a reply, “i’m more interested in what you’re wearing. what’s all this?”

“nothing,” you reply, face red, looking away from his intense gaze.

“really?” he teases. “there’s no way this is nothing,” he bluntly states as he brings up his hand to brush the tip of the lace of the headpiece that are adored on the top of your head. he’s really intrigued by your current appearance, but with good measure. “you prepared all this just for me?”

you avoid the intense look he gives you while you bring your arms around his body, hugging him back.

“maybe,” you finally answer back after a small delay, still feeling very flustered.

thinking of you as wearing these kinds of clothes makes him really excited. “does this finally make you my maid now?” he says with a flight excited tone in his voice. his hands are currently toying with the bell on the collar.

you don’t answer back, even if you would find the words to answer back you physically couldn’t. he already has his lips back on yours before you could even come up with an answer. he kisses you until you’re out of breath. he only pulls away once you slightly push on his chest for air.

you then nod to him, looking up dazedly into his eyes as you don’t have it in you to answer as of right now.

“hm?” he taunts, “you already can’t speak? i haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

“well.. y’know..” you know what he wants to hear but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

he holds your face roughly with one of his hands and tilts your face to make sure you’re looking at him in his eyes. “come on say it, you’re gonna be a good maid for me, aren’t you?” he playfully exclaims.

“yeah, this does make me your maid, rei,” you answer back.

he shakes his head. “if you’re my maid, doesn’t that make me your master?”

“ah. yeah..” you hide your face in his chest.

“then you’d have to address me properly, no?”

“i’m.. your maid, m-master” you muster up.

“didn’t you also forget to greet me properly when i came in?” he snickers and abruptly lets go of your body, taking a step back, putting a bit of physical distance between both of you.

you stare at him with a confused look, but then it hits you. “ah, yeah.. welcome back, master,” you say embarrassingly. you bring your hands to your skirt, ruffling the bottom and lifting your skirt up, revealing to him the lewd matching panties you got specifically for this outfit. you can’t help but feel shy when facing him in those clothes, saying those words. you’re sure he’s gonna appreciate that act of boldness.

in response to that lewd act of yours, rei swallows out of arousal. he takes a step forward and meets your face. he leans into your body, slightly towering over you. “i can’t believe such a lewd maid is greeting me like this,” he sneers. he brings himself even closer to you, to the point where you feel the warmth from his body.

you let out a whimper when he brings two fingers to your clothed pussy and rubs it roughly. you almost let go of your skirt before he gives your skirt a slight pull with his other hand, “make sure to keep still and don’t let go. you don’t want me to punish you already, right?” you murmur an agreement to his words.

“these panties are so wet,” he says, pressing into the evident dampness even more, “it doesn’t surprise me from such a perverted maid,” rubbing more intensely at your cunt through your panties. you moan back at him. he moves his hand to cup your pussy, which makes you shudder. he hooks his fingers to your panties and swiftly moves them to the side. he doesn’t even bother completely taking them off, he’ll do it later. right now, he’s honestly out of patience.

he enters his finger into your dripping wet cunt which makes you gasp. it’s so tight and wet, he really wants to dig in. he makes sure that his finger is fully inserted before he brashly removes it. he then promptly sucks your juices off his finger. he thoroughly sucks it while making sure you look straight into his eyes. you give him a dazed look, to which he purposely removes his finger with a loud pop sound, “tastes so good,” he announces and the flavor makes him automatically lick his lips, itching for more.

now with two fingers, he enters into you once more. he rubs inside, looking for the spot that makes you see stars. he draws his fingers in and out of you, until he finds that spot. once he hits it, your legs quiver. with his other hand, he lightly rubs at your clit in a circular motion.

you almost let go of your skirt out of shock because of all the pleasure to which rei definitely did not miss. he purposely rubs onto your clit harder and starts pumping his fingers in and out of you quicker. “hold on properly until you cum,” he deadpanly warns. you can’t help but moan out and clench onto your skirt.

you’re standing there in front of him, coating his fingers with your juices. he enjoys the sounds that come out of your squelching pussy so so much. he wouldn’t have it any other way. it is really a treat to come back home and already have you like that for him.

he’s gradually sped up more and more, and you start feeling your orgasm take over. your pussy spasms around his fingers and he doesn’t slow down. you feel it come throughout your whole body. your legs shake intensely and you finally let go of your skirt.

he intensely watches you while you cum, “you’re such a good girl, cumming like that for me.” he pets your head, proud of you for behaving.

he then brings your face right up to his. he rests his hand on your cheek, before bringing his fingers to your lips and caressing it. your eyes meets his and he gives you another lazy lustful stare. you shiver knowing what’s going to come next. you close your eyes while he leans into your lips. the kiss is sloppy, with his tongue eagerly entering your mouth full of need and want. a string of spit connects both of your mouths when he ends the kiss. it makes you feel so vulgar for just a kiss.

“this isn’t enough to satisfy me, you know,” rei chuckles, bringing his hand down to your neck, where the collar resides. he plays with the lace that’s on it. rei reminds himself how cute it looks on you.

he completely lets go of your face before picking you up bridal style. you cling onto his body. “let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he declares while landing a kiss on your face and moves away from the entrance. he carries you with ease given the strength he possesses.

he doesn’t go too far and decides on settling you on the couch. he wants to indulge you quickly, and your shared bedroom is too far, he doesn’t have enough patience for that today. the couch is good. the position he places you has you sitting with your legs dangling off the edges. he makes sure to place you comfortably. he lets his body fall on the couch, right besides where you’re sitting. you slightly jump when his body weight makes the couch dip. he brings your body over his and makes you sit above his crotch, facing his chest. you can already feel how hard he is. it excites you how he’s really raring to go.

rei toys with the maid skirt again, while grinding his hips into your crotch. his hands start caressing your thighs, playing with the socks. he gives your legs a firm squeeze. eventually, his hands go up your body, from your hips to grasping at your waist and he stops at your boobs. he cups your chest over the soft fabric of the maid outfit. he holds each of them firmly and rubs your nipples with his thumbs. he can feel how erect they’ve become through the clothes. you then bring down your face and start kissing him again. once the kiss end, he starts regaining focus, “you just came,” and he draws out a breath, “i deserve a reward, don’t forget, i’m the master.”

your mind already feels clouded after your first orgasm and the kissing didn’t help, so you just reply with a tiny whine. you get a slap on your cunt for not properly answering. your body jumps at that. “be a good girl and reply properly, what did i say about actually answering?” he grinches.

“yeah, yeah, yeah,” you whine back while nodding, finding it hard to properly form your sentences.

“hm? yeah to what?” he grunts out.

“you deserve a reward, master,” finally comes out of you. it sounds more like a whine than proper words. you’re surprised you’re even able to still form coherent thoughts.

he quickly grabs your hips one last time and grinds himself on you. you can feel how hard he is. he then gives your ear a quick kiss before letting himself lay back and relax on the couch.

you then absentmindedly lift yourself off rei and drop to your knees, between both of his legs. your hands are placed on both of his thighs, slightly gripping the fabric of his pants. you bring your head right above his crotch and rub your face on it. he signals you to start unzipping his pants, so you comply. he then lifts his own hips to help you remove them with ease. he’s now in black boxers and it is so obvious to see how hard his dick is. you decide to give it a few licks through the cloth, letting him feel the wetness seeping through from your mouth. when you retreat, he roughly palms his dick before letting his cock jump free. he quickly discards everything on the floor.

your face is still inches away from his dick, and is still very close. however, before you can actually grab his dick, he uses it to tease you. he loves how obedient and willing you are to serve him, however he loves toying with you even more. he drags the tip along your lips and pulls back with a “uh uh” when you bring your face to try to lick it.

rei squishes his tip to your lips and coats them with his precum. he's making sure to drag it, so that your lips move. he then decides to move his arousal on the rest of your face. your face always looks so attractive to him, but it’s just something else when his dick right in front of it. no words can describe how much he likes it.

eventually, he stops purposely teasing you and lets you grab his dick. you hold onto the base and start from there, giving his cock, small, kitty licks. one of your hands holds his balls, while the other starts gently squeezing his tip. your tongue moves up and finds itself at the tip. you then give it one big suck. this makes rei’s hands find themself into your hair. he gives your hair a good tug. he then decides to move the stray strands of hair and place them behind your ear.

you remove your mouth from his tip and continue licking the rest of his dick. your hands massage and stroke him. “this is a special massage you know?” you tell him between licks. he then thrusts into your mouth which makes you gag. “what do you mean by special?” he asks, already being fully aware of the answer, but wanting to hear it directly.

“well, you know..” you stutter out, still licking.

“know what?” he answers back.

“it’s a special maid service, okay!”

he silently chuckles at your flustered reply, firmly holding your head the whole time. you then meet his eyes. the look you give him when you look up into his eyes with his dick stuffed into your mouth could make him cum on sight, but he has better plans. he would really want to fuck your mouth, so badly, but he’ll do that another time. “i’d rather cum inside your pussy,” he warns you. you remove your hands and let go of his dick, letting your mouth make a “pop” sound.

he brings his hands under your arms and lifts you up. with a small delay, you shuffle, trying to sit up and he helps you by lifting you up. he’s so strong that he doesn’t have any difficulties manhandling you to his will. it always shocks you how he does it with so much ease. nevertheless, it never fails to turn you on. you’re now facing him again, with your legs around his hips. you put your hands on his shoulder and lift your hips so he can remove your panties. he puts them aside and starts spreading your pussy lips, admiring how glistening it is.

rei then takes his dick and taps at the front of your pussy. he then rubs his tip all along its length, making sure to cover his dick with the wetness that’s leaking from you. he rubs the tip in a circular motion all around you. he pushes the tip of his cock into your pulsing heat. it’s so wet he can easily slide in. he lets out a grunt before snapping his hips up to meet yours, thrusting his whole length inside. your cunt sucks him in. you moan at the sudden feeling of being so full. you can feel him stretching you out.

“don’t hold back any of your sounds,” he grunts out, watching you bite your lips. hearing every little moan, whimper, whine you do makes him crazy. any word that comes out of your mouth in that voice of yours makes him speechless. even if you wanted to stay quiet, you wouldn’t be able to, not with the way his dick is reaching so deeply into you.

“i won’t,” you need a second to gather your thoughts, “i won’t hold back any sounds.” he feels fulfilled by your reply and rewards you with a kiss.

you feel so warm that he can’t help but grab your hips even harder, to the point of bruising them. even if he wanted to be gentle, he wouldn’t be able. you’re so wet. your pussy drools around him, coating his cock with your juices. he starts setting a harsh pace, which you brace yourself by holding onto his upper body with a tighter grip. “it feels really, really good master,” you tell him. he can’t help but buck his hips in pleasure, letting you know he heard you. your gummy walls squeeze him so well.

your hands eventually find themselves under his shirt, craving his warmth even more. however, you can’t help but scratch his back and claw at it when nearing your high. “you’re just like a cat, scratching my back,” he says, amused and turned on, “those are my favorite kind of marks.”

he then grips your hips and starts setting a brutal rhythm. he feels your body trying to scramble away from the pleasure, “c’mon, take my cock like a good girl, you’re supposed to be a well behaved maid.” you hold onto him more, trying not to let go. with the way he’s fucking you, you feel your body shake at his thrusts.

“you’re gonna cum soon, aren’t you?” he tells you. there’s no way he wouldn’t be able to tell, with the way your body is tightening up around him with your walls spamming, how you’re slurring every word, just looking at your face is enough to realize.

you nod to him and desperately moan out a yes. he brushes your hair out of your face, “then what should a cumdump like you say?” he asks, landing a kiss on your forehead. that gentle action is so different from the rough way his hips are moving and the filthy words that come out of his mouth.

you know immediately what he wants. he always likes making you beg and you’re sure that with the maid outfit he wants to hear it even more. “please let me cum, please master,” you mutter out.

he twitches at that pleading scream of yours. “wow, you have good manners now,” he says in between thrusts, “you really wanna cum that bad?”

“please!” you whine out, bringing your hips back to meet his, trying to chase your orgasm. he could listen to your voice begging and pleading to him for days on end. no matter how many times he hears them, they never bore him. “i want your cum, please master,” finally comes out of your mouth.

“fuck, you’re so naughty,” he makes sure to bring your face into his, while his other hand comes to flick at your clit, “come for me, you naughty maid.” your orgasm takes over your whole body, as well as his. he cums so much, and it fills you up. you can’t help but clench, wanting to milk him. you feel so good and full. he loves pumping you full.

you both reach your high, however he isn’t finished yet. he thinks to himself how he needs more. he’d be a fool to end it right now. he hikes your skirt up and stares at the place where you’re both connected, before removing you from his cock. he makes sure to watch it attentively, not missing any detail. his cum spills out and he swears that it just fires him even more. he wants to stuff it back into you so badly.

he stares at it, letting his cum spill down your pussy. he brings his finger and scoops up the leaking cum, fingering it back inside of you. you jitter at the intrusion of his finger, your breathing still ragged. your worned out sex face meets his now eager eyes. for someone who’s so lazy, he just doesn’t want to stop yet, “if you give me those eyes, you know i won’t leave you alone.”

he then flips you, head now facing down and back to him. you’re laying on the couch, on both of your knees. and you eventually find yourself head down. he brings both of your hands behind your back and firmly holds them there with one of his hands. you slightly shuffle in response. rei then spanks your ass, “stop trying to tempt me even more,” and with this, his cock enters your cunt once again. he’s fucking you from behind, not trying to go slow and gentle at all. he is not envisioning a break anytime soon.

once he lets go of both of your hands, you place them to your sides, supporting you. it’s not long until he places his own hands on top of your arms, gripping onto you again. he cages you with his body.

“i wanna keep you like this forever, not being able to do anything at all,” he shamelessly tells you. you’re practically drool all over the couch at his words.

“rei” you moan out, gripping the couch out of pleasure. he really wants to fuck you stupid.

“you should just always be my maid,” he says, treating you like a fleshlight. you wouldn’t be opposed to his suggestion. being treated like that everyday would make you lose your mind, in the best way possible. “you’d like that wouldn’t you? being fucked senseless everyday by me.”

you frantically nod. “yeah, i would, would want that so much,” you reply, desperately.

“i know you would, you wouldn’t have to think at all, just like right now.” you tighten up even more.

“you’re mine right?” he says after a particularly hard trust, you’re words are working him up. it was so hard you can even hear his balls slapping on your ass. you arch your back, whining out a yes. “who does this cunt belong to?”

“you, master,” you scream out, “my whole body belongs to you.”

“yeah? everything?”

“yeah.. it’s all yours, all of it,” you mutter out.

“good, with the way you’re taking my cock, fuck, i never wanna leave this pussy,” he slams his hips into yours. you honestly don’t want it to end either.

this time his thrusts are even more rushed, he’s losing control and wants nothing more but to chase his pleasure, using you. you love it as well. god, you want nothing more than to be used by him. “i love using your body like this,” he mounts?

when he finally cums, he’s making sure you’re aware of his body on top of yours, and he sinks his teeth into your neck, in an animalistic manner. you take him so well, and the fact you’re now stuffed with his cum really excites him. you don’t have any more strength and let your body fully relax. he then removes himself, and also lets his body slump besides yours, being careful enough to not squish you too much, but just a little bit. he cups your face with his hands and lovingly stares into your eyes.

“let’s go take a shower,” you giggle at him.

he then rubs his face into your own and grunts, “sure, but let’s just stay like this a bit longer,” he sighs, satisfied. you also want to bask in the afterglow, so you hum an agreement.

“oh but.. since you’re my maid, that means you’ll wash me up in the shower, no?” he smirks.

“ahh, really? i thought you wanted to rest more,” you sigh. your legs are still twitching.

“a maid shouldn't talk back to her master,” he giggles while kissing you on the cheek, “maybe i should discipline you.”

you shuffle in his lap, “i behaved more than enough,” you say jokingly sighing, but still making sure to return his kiss playfully.

“i love you,” he reminds you. before you even get time to reply, rei stands up, which ends up distracting you. he brings his arms around you, lifting you up in the process. you giggle playfully at him, letting him carry you to the shower.

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies fic #buddy daddies smut #rei suwa #rei suwa smut #rei suwa fic #rei suwa x reader #my writing

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hello!! Recently found your page and when i tell you i binge read almost all of your lookism content i mean it.

That being said i would love to ask if you could do a scenario where y/n and Goo hate each other but fake date in order to make Gun jealous and of course annoyed (in Goo’s case), however in the end they both fall for each other.

Aww!! THANK YOU FOR READING!! Isn't this community great. Isn't Lookism great.

I LOVE fake date fics! Slight deviation to just trying to prove Gun wrong (the plot is thin, okay).

Goo Kim x Reader: Fake Dating

"Get your hands off me!"

"It's called acting, you bitch!"

"Dumb bastard!"

"Stupid hag!"

"Four eyed fuck!"

"Shit for brains!"

A door slams shut. You and Goo freeze for a brief moment before throwing yourselves at each other. Your lips smash painfully together, and hands wander. It's for authenticity, you see.

(And it works.)

Gun stops in his tracks, "What the fuck?"

.

.

You had been chit-chatting as you usually do during one of the lulls in your missions with Gun.

"-and winter weddings are sorta magical, y'know? I like the idea of getting married and having snow falling all around me. But summer with the weather, I-"

Gun has had enough of your mundane chatter. "How the hell do you find the stupidest shit to talk about. You can't even get anyone to date you."

You throw a punch at him, "We dated!"

He dodges your attack, "And we broke up."

"Fuck you, loads of people want to date me!"

Gun peers over his sunglasses at you, he knows you are bullshitting.

Ugh. You'll show this asshole.

.

.

"Hey, you big lump," you kick Goo's chair. Oops maybe a bit too hard. You cackle as he tumbles into a heap on the floor.

"AHH! What was that for, you dumb bitch!" Goo gives you the filthiest look.

(On paper you and him should get on like a house on fire. But the first time you met, he had opened his mouth and asked who brought along this pretty little bimbo. You tried to rip out his tongue for that. Well, the rest is history.)

"So..." You eye up the blonde dusting himself off and readjusting his glasses. Is this one of your worst ideas? Probably. "Wanna piss off Gun with me?"

"I don't need you to do that."

"But what if we can take it to new realms of irritation?"

"..."

"I'll pay you."

"Why didn't you say so, Princess! I'm all ears."

Goo had always thought you were a little weird. As if this doesn't prove his point exactly.

Whatever.

He's making money and irritating Gun. Two of his favourite things. Add in beating someone up in there, and it's his holy trinity.

Hmm, maybe he could beat you up after this. That would be fun. He gives you a sly glance as you're explaining the 'fake dating' and what it entails.

Seriously, what an oddball.

.

.

After Gun discovers you two all over each other, he turns around and swiftly exits.

He did not care for getting involved in your love life. That ship had long sailed.

The only concerns are with his own sanity.

Having you and Goo together is a dangerously irritating, annoying combination. It doesn't just increase his chance of getting a headache and into trouble two-fold, it increases it exponentially.

...And the fake dating begins.

.

.

"Sweetheart, this song reminds me of you!" Goo gives a mocking smile that only you could see.

Gun is sitting in the back while Goo drives and you occupy the passenger's seat. That's fine as far as Gun is concerned. The further he is away from the both of you while you have this little... thing going on the better.

He honestly could not care less. But even listening to you two flirting is like nails on a chalkboard. The headache is returning. He should really invest in some headphones.

"Aww~ You are so sweet!"

You run your hands along Goo's thigh then brutally dig your nails in as you pinch him. This fuck. Did he think you couldn't hear the lyrics? The woman in this song is a useless doormat.

Goo blows you a kiss in return.

.

.

"Cupcake!" Goo matches pace with you and goes to hold your hand. You hear Gun's unhappy grumblings from behind. "There's a new hot restaurant that opened up. We should go on a date!"

"I would love that," That really would be thoughtful if you guys were an actual couple.

"We can have a nice night out and walk along the Han river."

"Perfect."

Goo's grip on your hand tightens, he looks deviously at you. Oh no. You prepare yourself for whatever comes out of his mouth next.

"And afterwards we can go back to mine for dessert? You know what I mean? By dessert? That's how everyone phrases it right? To mean we will just fuck all night? With my big, huge, throbbing-"

You hear a stumble and cursing from Gun. You look at Goo and feel him mentally high five-ing you.

Heh. That'll teach Gun for being such a dick. This isn't such a terrible idea after all.

.

.

"Sweetheart! Don't I look handsome!"

Gun questioned his life choices.

You and Goo had insisted on running into a designer store for something quick. 'Something quick' had turned into an hour of Goo parading around in suits. And now Gun is waiting sullenly in the corner for you both to finish up whatever the fuck you are doing.

"Hurry the fuck up,"

"Gun, you sourpuss! It's for the HNH function tonight. Goo needs to look his best."

Goo definitely did look good, you'll give him that. The blonde has a great body and a keen eye for fashion.

"Honeybun?" you turn your attention towards your 'boyfriend' as he strides out the fitting room. The suit looks like it was tailored especially for him.

Oh. Has he always been this handsome? You start to think maybe he isn't so bad until-

"You said you'll treat me for showing you a good time last night?"

You must be a better actor than you thought. Your mouth doesn't drop open at his boldfaced lie and your face remains neutral.

This prick. No doubt he's going to rack up an absurd bill and make you pay.

"Let's have a closer look then," you walk over to him, playing the part of a sweet girlfriend. Your hand smooths out the lapel and shirt.

"Silly, your tie is all askew," you adjust the knot and tighten it until it almost chokes this idiot.

Goo doesn't say a word, just looks down at you with a smirk. You feel the urge to wipe it off.

"I do like this one," you say. Your hand reaches out to caress his face. He stills at your unusually tender touch, his next backhanded comment gets stuck in his throat.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

As if on autopilot, Goo's arms moves to circles your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. Something about the way you fit with him feels natural.

You nip at his lower lip. Hmm, Goo really is a good kisser.

Gun closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. You two are getting on his fucking nerves. He really shouldn't kick your asses here. He takes a deep breath and counts to ten.

Scratch that, maybe one hundred.

.

.

Goo, with his arm around your shoulder, eyes your Uno cards.

He had already won a couple rounds ago, and now you and Gun are determining who between you is the loser.

"No cutie-pie, don't put the green one down. Gun will +2 you!"

"Don't help her out!" Gun growls at you both sitting across from him. He gets awfully testy even with silly games.

You hum and haw at whether to trust Goo as he studies your hand, trying to come up with a strategy.

"Put this one down," he ignores Gun and points at a particular card, "cross my heart babe!"

Fine. You follow his instructions.

Gun huffs and picks up a card from the pile. Guess he couldn't follow your colour or number.

Goo taps twice on his cheek. You giggle and reward him with a loud smooch.

.

.

"Like this,"

Goo comes up behind you, pressing himself fully into your back and helping you adjust the grip on the golf club.

You subtly elbow him.

"Watch it," you whisper.

"You're paying for my boyfriend services," he responds under his breath, a grin never leaving his face.

Your voice returns to its normal volume, "I thought I was doing it right?"

"Nooo Princess, your swing is all off!"

He rests his head on your shoulder, actually telling you about where your hands should be and correcting your stance.

If you were a weaker woman, you would be feeling butterflies, and your face would flush. You would think about how sweet Goo could be, and how fun he is in a relationship...

You see Gun from the corner of eye and quickly derail any straying thoughts. Instead, you turn and lightly graze your lips on Goo's cheek and shuffle your hips into his crotch playfully.

Goo, delighted at your movement, chuckles.

Off to the side, Gun facepalms.

.

.

You open your mouth obediently as Goo spoonfeeds you.

"Isn't it extra delicious when your Goo-bear is feeding you?" He flutters his eyelashes. God, this guy is so ridiculous you couldn't help but laugh.

"Do you have to fucking do that? I'm trying to eat here." Gun glares at the display.

"Don't be jealous just because you'll never know love like this!" Goo snaps before feeding you another mouthful.

Gun rolls his eyes. Why does Charles curse him with the most idiotic partners.

"Yeah I'll just pay for mine and the wifey's food," Goo smiles at the waitress, handing over some cash.

"Just pay for it all you cheap asshole!" Gun is exasperated. It's a goddamn hole-in-the-wall, not some fine dining establishment. The total is pocket change.

"Nope!"

"You fucking-"

The waitress clears her throat awkwardly.

"Pay for it yourself, you prick," Goo retorts as he nuzzles into your neck.

Gun angrily slams down some money.

.

.

"What's this?"

So much for doing work. Goo loudly makes an entrance into your office and wafts a piece of paper in front of your face. You snatch it irritably.

"My invoice!"

What? This wasn't the duration that was agreed.

You narrow your eyes at him, "But we're not done yet!"

"No, we're not."

"So?"

"So I thought I'll give you a 100% discount for the foreseeable, sweetheart."

Your eyebrows knit together. Does this mean what you think it means?

Goo is a picture of nonchalance, he perches on your desk as he examines his nails.

"You mean you actually want to...?"

"I'm having a good time. You look like you are too."

Hmm, you couldn't deny it. And you never thought kissing him could be so pleasant.

"So we're really...?"

Goo gives you a smile and a casual shrug. "If you want to, Princess."

How does nothing ruffle his feathers. How can he be so relaxed about this?

You mull it over. What's the worst that could happen? The last few weeks have been undeniably fun. You don't think you had ever laughed so much.

You school your expression and give him a nod.

Goo's easy smile turns into a toothy grin. He pulls you close and kisses you, like all the times he had before. But this one feels sweeter. Real.

Goo fucking Kim is actually your boyfriend. Who would have thought?

When you finally pull away, you both stay within touching distance, beaming at each other like morons.

"Bastard."

"Bimbo."

Goo suddenly frowns, and the magic breaks. "This doesn't change anything. You still need to pay the bill!"

#this ended up loooong #for me #i love this goo-fy bastard #gun really couldnt give a fuck #just keep your shit away from him #leave him out of this PLEASE #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism x reader #goo kim x reader #lookism goo #kim joongoo x reader #kim joongoo #goo kim #lookism fic #lookism fanfics #gun park #park jonggun #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa

[uselessmicrowave]

NSFW alphabet with tfp soundwave? Pls I beg 🙏😫

A= Aftercare

Very extensive aftercare, they will clean you up well and help you into a bath, dry you off and hold you until you fall asleep.

B= Body Part

Soundwave likes their visor. They love your arms and legs, the way they look tangled up in their cables is irresistible.

C= Cum

Honestly dislikes it, they think it’s a mess to clean up, but if that’s what you’re into, they’re fine.

D= Dirty Secret

Watches a ton of tentacle/monster stuff. They’ll tell you about it, but only if you ask.

E= Experience

They are not very experienced but, as mentioned, they’ve gotten some pretty good ideas of what to do for you because of videos.

F= Favorite Position

You in front of them, suspended from their cables.

G= Goofy

They’re silly in their own way, turning you upside down or tickling you with cables.

I= Intimacy

They will not be very romantic, but that should be no surprise or deviation from your normal relationship behavior.

J= Jack Off

Very sparingly, like, once a month at most.

K= Kinks

Suspention, sounding, punishment, overstimulation and orgasm denial. Most giving and not receiving.

L= Location

In their berthroom, doesn’t matter where in the berthroom, but that’s the only place where Soundwave will open up to you.

M= Motivation

Not anything in particular, you just being in the mood gets them in the mood.

N= No

Taking the visor off or being in public while interfacing with you.

O= Oral

Soundwave cannot give, they will not take their mask off. They don’t really care for receiving either.

P= Pace

Fast but soft.

Q= Quickie

Absolutely not. They need a bit of time to admire your fleshy body.

R= Risk

None! None at all, getting frisky in a public area or somewhere other then their room is an immediate no.

S= Stamina

They could probably go forever, considering they won’t be the one who’s receiving.

T= Toys

They have toys, but only if you count their cables. Soundwave has modifications to make some of them vibrate.

U= Unfair

They’re definitely teasing when they’ve had a rough day, but they won’t make you cry.

V= Volume

Silent, with the exception of their vents blowing. But even that’s quiet.

W= Wild Card

Is actually kind of repulsed by the idea of using their own equipment to interface.

X= Xray

2’1”/60 cm with surging bio lights going up their spike, their valve

Y= Yearning

They are needy after a long day of work, they just want to love on you and tire you out.

Z= Zzz

Soundwave will want to work or finish reports after they take care of you, but if you ask nicely, they’ll recharge with you in their servos.

#tfp #valveplug #tfp soundwave #soundwave #soundwave x reader #tfp soundwave x reader #tfp x reader #they/them soundwave #transformers prime

[sirfrogsworth]

Thoughts on Live Action Avatar: TLA

I'm sure people are going to hate this. Some for valid reasons. Some because of endless nitpicking that really has no bearing on how good or bad it actually was. Some because they have already chosen to hate it and it's just a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But I always root for things to be good. I want them to succeed. And I always go into everything I watch with the hope and expectation it will be good. I turn off my critical brain and try to just experience the show for what it is. As I said, I saw no trailers. I read no reviews. I knew almost nothing about the production of this going in.

Initially, things were rough... buddy.

And I think that is a longstanding problem with live action TV shows in general. I am always reminded of Star Trek TNG and how it took two seasons (48 episodes) before they figured out what the hell they were doing. Back then shows were able to find their footing and grow and learn. Actors were given time to find their characters and understand them and finally become them.

But now, every show has to be amazing from the start or they get cancelled. And I think people have become very unforgiving of first seasons as well. I feel like not enough people consider the potential of something getting better. And I think that is a shame.

So, yes, Avatar started out rough. They tried to cram all of the exposition into the first 20 minutes. And that was unpleasant. The effects were jarring at first. It is incredibly difficult to translate animation into live action. And please don't say the CGI was "bad." It wasn't. There was just so much that needed to be packed into every frame of this show to make it work, and finding a way to make it all seamlessly blend is a monumental task. I think the artists did an amazing job with the constraints of essentially making an 8 hour movie in the time usually given a 2 hour one.

But as the show continued, the actors seemed more comfortable in their roles. The showrunners seemed to figure out what worked and what didn't. The quality across the board started to improve. Especially when they started to deviate a little bit from following the cartoon. I also noticed that the effects that were jarring in the beginning eventually stopped bothering me and breaking immersion. I got used to them and was able to just focus on the story. And I think they got a little better as well. The bending was much more convincing as the show progressed. And it was a bajillion times better than the slow-motion bending of that movie that shall not be named.

And by the final episode, I was all in. The Avatar monster was really cool. And I was crying my eyes out and having all kinds of emotions. And there were some changes they made to the story which I actually thought made more sense. And I was glad this show was doing a few things to differentiate rather than being an exact carbon copy.

It won me over.

And I know it won't do that for everyone. And perhaps I am forgiving a lot of sins just because I wanted it to be good. The original was my absolute favorite show of all time. I just liked spending time with these characters again.

But I liked it more than I didn't and I'm hoping that is the general consensus, but I fear that is not the case.

Things I really liked...

I thought the actor playing Sokka was really great. They didn't give him enough humorous material. But I think this kid absolutely nailed the role. And if this gets another season, I do hope he can show Sokka's lighter side a bit more.

Ken Leung also did amazing as Zhao. I think he surpassed his cartoon counterpart in villainy. I loved hating him.

The final battle was beautiful. I think they probably dedicated a lot of resources to that. Maybe at the expense of other things. But I think it was worth it to end strong.

In the first season of the cartoon, the trauma was often skipped over or kept very brief. I'm sure the idea of dealing with genocide and war time trauma was not an easy sell to Nickelodeon initially. But they did actually take the time to show some of that trauma, especially with Katara and Sokka. And I cried a bunch.

They seemed to go to considerable effort to have a diverse cast. I am glad they learned that lesson from the movie.

That said, they probably could have brought back Dee Bradley Baker to make the animal noises. This might have been an overcorrection...

I guess this will give the anti-wokesters something to complain about since the original was already super woke and it is probably a challenge to complain about the new thing being woke as well. Though I'm sure they are up to the challenge.

Things I didn't care for...

The compressed timeline caused a few stories to be combined and accelerated. I understand why that was necessary. But there were some important moments of character growth that got lost.

Sokka's missing sexism. I think it is much more useful to see someone grow and change and let go of their problematic traits than to pretend that never existed. Sokka's sexism was a symbol of the conservative views within water tribe culture in general. It was also foreshadowing for the conflict with Pakku (which was also minimized). I just think young viewers seeing a character overcome ingrained ideals has a greater influence than just erasing that aspect from the character.

Things I hated...

Princess Yue's hair. You get the amazing Amber Midthunder to play Yue, and she does an amazing job with extremely abbreviated screen time, but I couldn't stop staring at whatever that was they put on her noggin. I know I criticized people for nitpicking, but that was very distracting. I don't know exactly how it could have been done better, but I worry a great performance is going to get overshadowed by... hair.

In conclusion...

I think the people making this show loved the source material. I can see that love. I think they tried very hard to make the best show possible. And I also know they are probably going to get a lot of hate. I still haven't looked at the reviews because I didn't want to be influenced when writing this. But I can feel the review bombing as we speak.

But this was not a Witcher situation where the writers didn't respect the source material. This was displaying how incredibly difficult it is to convert one of the most beautifully animated shows in existence into live action. Maybe that is an argument for not making live action versions. Though I usually love them when they work and am happy both versions exist.

I really hope people can remember the original still exists and they can completely disregard this and watch the cartoon any time they wish. This doesn't have to "ruin their childhood." These two things can exist and everyone is perfectly capable of ignoring all of the live action material.

But I do hope this gets another season. I think that final episode showed the potential. I think the cast was getting comfortable in their roles and they deserve another chance to show what they can do.

I love Paul Sun-Hyung Lee and I think he was a great choice for Iroh. But Mako's shoes are probably the biggest shoes in the existence of shoes to try and fill. I do not envy the task he was given. But every once in a while I saw that Mako spirit come out in his performance and I think he could use another season to really find that and show us what he is capable of.

This felt a lot like The Phantom Menace to me. There was actually a ton of amazing stuff to love in that movie. But it didn't quite work the way the original movies did. But I think this was good enough to hope for the future.

[awarmcupofmilk]

Gojo x reader "Finishing Start"

afab!reader

series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6

summary: half gojo’s pov- a drunken conversation ends your five year marriage w/ gojo

content warnings: breakup/sad, angst, deviations from gojo’s past arc, slight descriptions of violence (from fight w/ a curse), divorce

word count: 1,368

note: thoughts on this ending?

© 2022 awarmcupofmilk

please don’t repost, edit, translate, use, or copy my works on any platforms (if you’d really like to please reach out – reblogs are welcome)

Gojo ran his hand over his face. He had made you cry again. He lashed out. He made your job search about the money. And he still was no closer to finding out what he did.

He called Geto. 

“Are you sure you can’t remember?”

Geto sounded apologetic even through the phone. “I think you’re your best shot at remembering. But Satoru, I don’t think it was just that night.”

Gojo didn’t say anything. After muttering a word of thanks and hanging up, he found himself lost in thought. 

✧ 

You stared at the curse in front of you, something purple and viscous and disgusting oozing out from beneath it. The special-grade bellowed and charged at you. 

You closed your eyes and felt your cursed energy surge, channeling your innate technique. 

Ah, you’d missed this, you thought. The exhilaration of missions, the joy of doing something for yourself, the satisfaction from saving others, the impact of your energy against a cursed spirit. You didn’t regret giving it up when you did, but you really did miss this. 

You took out the curse with some effort, it had been a while; you were rusty. When you miscalculated a move and had to jump back, the curse’s nail dug into your arm. You’d have to go see Shoko later, it was considerably deep. But you knew you had done well. The reevaluation would be successful. Some previously anxious part of you was relieved that after half a decade of no practice, you still ranked a grade 1. 

✧ 

You sighed as you made it to Shoko’s. You ran into Gojo on the way. Insanely awkward. He froze, seeing your bloodied arm, but you didn’t meet his gaze. Besides sorting out the logistics of divorce, you hadn’t been speaking with him. 

“What’s with the doom and gloom?” Shoko turned towards you when you entered the room. 

“You have to ask?” You chuckled. And Shoko, eyebrow raised, nodded in understanding. 

 “You know, he really is being a baby about this.” Shoko said as she healed your cut. 

“No kidding,” You snorted. 

“Well, good to have you back.” Shoko said. You gave her a hug and thanked her before leaving. 

✧ 

Gojo had a box of kikufuku in front of him. What Geto said swam and echoed in his mind. “I don’t think it was just that night.”

He took one, bit into it, and remembered. 

You had been cooking dinner when he came home. You greeted him with a smile, even though you were clearly tired. Namie was playing with her stuffed bunny. 

“‘Toru,” You had smiled. “I made nikujaga.”

“Okay,” Satoru had responded curtly. He’d gone upstairs to change, and you’d looked disappointed. 

He had forgotten until now. That almost unsettled him more than the actual memory. Had he really cared so little about how you felt that he forgot?

He took another bite of the kikufuku. 

He had come back from a mission and went out. It was the first time he didn’t come straight home after a mission. He didn’t do much, mostly just strolling around a shopping mall. 

When he turned around, you were standing there, expressionless. He felt his phone vibrate and saw that you had called him twenty-three times, seeing as he had returned but was nowhere to be found. 

You were too far away, he couldn’t be sure, but it looked like you had wiped a tear. But then, you ran up to him, and you were smiling. You didn’t look happy, more resigned. He hadn’t noticed.

“I’m glad you’re back,” You had said. “But at least call me when you get back next time, okay? I had to find out from Shoko.”

He’d muttered some sort of agreement. He thought maybe you’d sighed. 

Gojo felt cold. He took another bite. 

He’d begrudgingly took out time to come to your reunion. He’d stood silently as you introduced him, occasionally acknowledging the conversation. He could tell he was making the atmosphere awkward. Your friends were uncomfortable. You were trying to make the best of it. But then he left. He vaguely felt you turning around trying to look for him. Walking over to the bar, he didn’t drink but bantered with someone, he wasn’t sure who. 

Your friends shook their heads. You had sighed. You’d walked up to him, tone somber. “Satoru, it’s time to leave.”

He had nodded and gotten up, but he hadn’t noticed that for once, you didn’t call him “‘Toru”.

And then what you’d said entered his mind. “Do you really need me to point out how little you cared about me or this family?”

“Did it ever occur to you that what you did might be too painful, too humiliating for me to repeat? I don’t owe you an explanation!”

“You’ve done enough harm.”

“We both know you’ve done enough to justify this just from what you can remember. Focus on that.”

“Self-respect? You’re talking to me about self-respect?”

“I thought after our last conversation you’d actually indulge in some self-reflection.”

“You make me sick.”

And his stomach dropped at the thought that he hadn’t listened to any of it.  Even now, he’d only reflected because of what Geto said. 

Did you hold even any significance in his heart? He felt despicable.

And then, by some miracle, he remembered what he said that night. 

“Marriage really isn’t all that.”

“I’m really wasting my life. I’m always worried on missions, and now this is always being used against me, you know they gave up being a sorcerer.”

(“It was for Namie though, right?”) “Sure, but did I ask for that?”

“Look, all I’m saying is, Y/N and I were friends in Jujutsu High. Maybe we should have stayed at that.”

He slid off the couch, head between his knees. 

Who was he to interfere with your life? What had he ever done to give him that right? 

He had no answer. 

✧ 

You’d officially received your reevaluation. Grade 1 sorcerer. You’d be on missions soon, you were added to the payroll, it seemed like everything was coming together. 

Then Gojo called. Ugh.

You were in such a good mood, too. He was sure to ruin it. But besides for Namie, you’d been ignoring him for weeks. So, gritting your teeth, you answered.

“Y/N? Oh, Y/N,” Gojo said, hurriedly, as if he was afraid you’d hang up, yet relieved. “I’m so glad you picked up,”

“That’s a new tone for you,” you said, sarcastic yet pleasantly surprised. 

“I’m so—” He began, then stopped. “I… I just wanted to let you know I think you should have the house.”

“Oh,” you’d said, completely pleasantly surprised now. 

“Just let Namie visit when I find a place, okay?” You rolled your eyes. As if you’d been keeping her from him. 

“Anyways,” Gojo continued. “I just, if Namie needs somewhere to stay when you’re on missions, I’m here—unless I’m also on a mission, but, yeah.” He finished awkwardly. 

What was up with him?

“Uh, okay,” you said, confused, but pleased. 

“Great, we’re still on for today, right?”

You hummed in confirmation. And he hung up. 

What was that?

You frowned to yourself. But seeing the time, you went to get Namie. He was visiting today. 

✧ 

The three of you walked down the street. Namie held an ice cream cone, munching happily, humming to herself. You held her hand and kneeled down to wipe her face with a napkin. She giggled, and though you knew you’d have to wash her dress later, you laughed, too. 

Gojo watched the two of you, fighting the thought that maybe he had lost the happiness in his life. This family would never be the same again.

He felt a tear slide down his cheek in surprise, and wiped it away. You looked up then, and noticed, as you do, with a questioning glance. “You okay?” You mouthed, not wanting to concern Namie. 

Namie looked up then and gave him a grin. She held up the cone to him. You lifted her up so she could reach, content smile on your face. 

 And Gojo, taking a bite, wondered what it was he felt in his chest. 

<- Previous part ✧⭐︎☆⭐︎✧ END

✧ Masterlist ✧

taglist: @skzismyhome @chanyeolscoon @cloudsinthecosmos @dunnowhy-m @mykyoon @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @96jnie @scaraslover @iam-mia9 @carirosesg @aeanya @wretchedthingluz @whippedbyikemen @vesta-ro

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #satoru gojo #jjk angst #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #ex husband gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru jjk #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo imagine #jujutsu gojo #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #satoru angst #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n

[that-ari-blogger]

A New Face (Separate Tides)

During its second season, The Owl House had hit its stride and wasn't slowing down. This is my favourite season, and that isn't an unpopular sentiment.

Separate Tides is the opening episode of this season, so it needs to recap the previous goings on and themes in a cohesive way for new viewers, and take the series in a different direction that stays loyal to those themes and plotlines. I think this episode does that well.

But this isn't a summary blog, this is a blog where I find something needlessly specific and gush about the implications of that something.

So... The Golden Guard is so ****ing cool.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (The Owl House, The Harry Potter Series)

I've mentioned in the past that The Owl House uses archetypal storytelling to a truly masterful degree. It takes tropes and meets them on a superficial level, then twists them in a way that adds depth and makes the series unique.

For example, the series is directly drawing inspiration from the works of Robert Galbraith, with Willow being the bullied kid with a passion for herbology, and Amity being the school bully who definitely has a crush on the main character. Both take the archetype and shake it up a bit, as is the way with parody, but the baseline is there.

This leans into the themes of being your own person rather nicely, as it makes the deviations from the archetype more important.

I took great pains to point out that Luz is the only character who doesn't fit the mould at all. She has no analogue and is her own person completely. She has nothing to restrict her.

However, leaves the analogue for the actual protagonist of Galbraith's books. Obviously, not every character from the series is parodied, but the chosen one main character seems like a weird one to miss out on.

I would argue that Mr Potter does have an analogue, Hunter Whittebane (Or Hunter Noceda or Hunter Demonne or even Hunter Clawthorn. Whichever name you prefer, its the same guy).

He is a child soldier, raised by his uncle and manipulated into giving his life away for the cause by an old wizard. He bears a scar on his face, and is technically half witch, half human.

Although we don't actually see any of that in Separate Tides. Instead, we are introduced to the Golden Guard, a character who is suave and cool and confident.

The first time we actually see this character is in the final scene of the previous season.

"Worry not, Kiki. We'll be keeping an eye on the inhabitants of the Owl House."

The Golden Guard is a goon, an elite goon, but a goon none the less. He is simply a character whom Belos turns to in order to get the job done.

But, I find the use of vernacular here interesting. Belos doesn't refer to the Golden Guard with any name, or even as a separate entity from himself. Not "he will be watching them" or "this is the Golden Guard, I trust him to get the job done". This character is referred to as "we". He and Belos are connected. This character is simply Belos' eye.

Then, in Separate Tides, it is established that, when Lilith fell from grace, she was replaced by the Golden Guard.

"He always got special treatment because he was the genius teen prodigy. But he's really just a brat."

So, this is a child, but a gifted child. Lilith is dismissive here, but not of the Golden Guard's skill, just his personality. This is someone for whom things come naturally, allegedly, and who has never had to work for his abilities. Allegedly.

"Unfortunately, you won't have the chance."

The Golden Guard's first line is just cool. He is calm and collected. He is in control. And he has just easily captured one of the protagonists.

I also love the little fact that he has spent the entirety of this voyage in a dimly lit room, eating crackers. The room has nothing to do in it except books. So, he was definitely just sitting there, reading, and had to improvise when King burst into the room. He's a bookworm with an ability to think on the spot.

I'm saying this guy would definitely play Pathfinder or D&D if he was given a chance.

Anyway, the Golden Guard's actual introduction comes fourteen minutes into the episode, and it immediately sets this guy up as a threat. He's martially competent, magically adept, and fully in his element. This is a character who revels in control, just like the Emperor.

And that link to Belos is interesting. Because forgive me for asking, why would an Emperor's elite goon be a child? As in, there has to be a connection to Belos beyond what meets the eye for the Golden Guard to be anywhere near where he is.

We don't get told that here, but we do see that this character's skillset is kinda similar to Belos', in theory. He's commanding, and he gets people to do what he wants. But in practice, this isn't Belos at all. This is someone trying very hard to be like Belos, but coming at it from a different angle.

I do, however, think that the Golden Guard's greatest strength as a goon is revealed subtly in this scene.

"The Emperor ordered me to slay one. I'm just following orders."

We've seen through Lilith in the previous season that Belos covets blind loyalty, and that is what the Golden Guard offers him. He doesn't know or care why the Emperor does what he does, he just follows orders.

Essentially, the Golden Guard is a traditional Disney villain at this point. He is fun, bisexual, charismatic, and a physical threat. The Golden Guard we get introduced to is enjoyable to watch, and it sounds like Zeno Robinson is having a blast voicing him.

However, there is one element of the Golden Guard that we get introduced to in this episode that might fly under the radar. The Owl House is no stranger to masks, and people putting on a show to get the job done, but when we are first shown the Golden Guard in this episode, he is taking it off.

The intro sequence of this season features three characters who are under Belos' command. Lilith, The Golden Guard, and Kikimora. It then unmasks them, with Lilith becoming apologetic, and Kikimora becoming more aggressive. But the Golden Guard sits between them, removing his own mask to reveal... a single purple eye.

The eye is the window to the soul, of course. But there is something to the manner in which this is happening. Kikimora has been angered to the point of lashing out, and Lilith has been brought low with remorse. The Golden Guard, however, is lowering his own mask and staring directly at you with an air of "I'm doing this of my own accord. I see you, you see me, your move."

I wonder if agency is going to be a theme with this character.

Final Thoughts

I love Hunter so much it is obscene, and there is a ton of ambiguity about him right from the bat. What is his stake in this? Who actually is he? And why does he have a purple eye?

As for the rest of this episode, Luz's guilt is starting to be expressed. In my opinion that is for the first time, but I have heard it said that this isn't a new character trait for her.

And Lilith... *sighs* There is a sentiment online as to the expedience of Lilith's redemption arc. Some people like it, others think she should have been "punished" more, and I would like to take a third rout.

I don't believe in punitive justice for fictional characters, and I certainly don't believe in telling writers how they should write. I do, however, think that it could have been slightly more interesting if the consequences of cursing Eda were explored more psychologically.

In any case, however, the series we got is the series we got, and I think it is perfectly fine, if not better, as it is. I don't see a point in getting angry online over what could have been.

Next week, I am looking as Escaping Expulsion and boy, do I have thoughts about Odalia Blight. So, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #character analysis #what's so special about...? #toh #the owl house #the owl house hunter #toh hunter #toh golden guard #the owl house golden guard #We need to see more of Eda in Bloodborne cosplay

[nalyra-dreaming]

Found an old interview, with a few juicy bits

(and a lot we knew already)

The blood tasted like "Sour Patch Kid" (lol):

The three of them had dancing lessons.... 👀

And Jacob wants to see Louis in the 80s!!! (And we know Sam got his wish^^)

Also kinda sad that Bailey won't be able to explore those hairstyles, but... anyways it's long , so the rest under the cut:

Interview with Jacob Anderson, Sam Reid and Bailey Bass

Posted on October 2, 2022 by TvMegasite Admin

TV Interview!

Interview with Jacob Anderson, Sam Reid and Bailey Bass of “Interview with The Vampire” on AMC and AMC+ by Suzanne 9/29/22

This was a fun roundtable with the three stars of this great new vampire show. If you love vampire shows, or the Anne Rice novels, you should love this show. It’s very well done, and these actors are great in it. Jacob plays Louie, and we see the story through his eyes as told to ailing reporter Daniel Molloy (Eric Bogosian, who’s outstanding as always). Sam Reid plays LeStat, the seductive vamp that turns Louie and becomes his friend, lover, mentor, etc. Bailey plays Claudia, the young woman that joins them. They were very kind and fun to interview.

Suzanne:   Hi, I’m Suzanne Lanoue from TVMEG.com, and I’ve watched the first episode. I didn’t get screeners till this morning, so I only got to watch the first one so far, but I’m really enjoying it. It just grabs you and drags you in. So, congratulations on being renewed for season two already, which is great. Do you know when you’ll be starting to film season two, or have you already started filming it?

JACOB ANDERSON:   We haven’t started. We haven’t started shooting, no.

SAM REID:   Probably, I don’t know if we can say anything. [Laughs]

Suzanne:   Have they told you yet?

JACOB ANDERSON:   They haven’t not told us anything.

Suzanne:  [Chuckles} OK, well, thank you!

Jamie from SCIFI VISION:  Hi, I’m Jamie Ruby from SciFi Vision. Thanks for talking to us today, I really enjoyed the first five episodes that we’ve seen. So, for the three of you, can you kind of talk about how you balanced what you pulled from the book versus what you added with your own spin on it?

SAM REID:   Hello, Jamie, I’ll answer that. No. But I would say that anything for myself and my character, my own spin probably came from my own interpretation of the books and Rolins’ work. So, I wasn’t really trying to put any of my own spin on it. It’s just how I imagined it to be, really.

JACOB ANDERSON:   Yeah. I second that. It’s like, you will always view a character through your own lens to an extent and then it’s just kind of, I mean, I guess with anything, it’s like, do other do the other creative people like that, and do they want to discuss it? But you don’t want to mess with this. Like the combination of Anne Rice’s writing and Rolins’ writing, you don’t really want to touch it, you don’t want to just sort of throw your own stuff in just for the sake of it.

SAM REID:   They’re so dense already the characters that it sort of would be a shame to try and deviate too much of thing.

JACOB ANDERSON:   What could you possibly add?

SAM REID:   Yeah.

BAILEY BASS:   I feel the exact same way. It’s really, yes, we were cast because there’s something special in us that Rolin and the entire team really enjoyed when we were doing our auditions. But other than that, it’s really just doing the research and the book, reading the scripts, doing our own technique, and then just coming and creating in this world.

Jamie:  Okay, great. Thank you so much.

Jamie from STARRY MAG:  This is Jamie Steinberg, with Starry Constellation Magazine. Jacob, this is another deeply tortured soul for you to portray. Is there something about these kinds of characters that really draw you to them? Or is this them finding their way to you? Or is it something you see in them that really resonates with you and makes you want to portray them?

JACOB ANDERSON:   I think it’s a combination of both. We find each other. I think I’m slightly less like Grey Worm than I am like Louis. But yeah, I mean, I think you normally want to be like very boundaried when you talk about things and be like, “Oh, well, I’m so removed from the character, and I’m brilliant at acting and blah blah blah blah blah”. But to be honest, yeah, I feel very, very connected to Louis. It’s the thing that bothered me about how Anne Rice wrote him, and also how Rolin wrote him as well. Yeah, I’m drawn to characters who are searching. And I’d ask him questions, not just about the world, but about their place in it and what they contribute or don’t contribute to it. But yeah, I also I felt like it would be like, narcissistic of me to be like, “I am the only person who can play Louis.” But namely, because there is somebody else that’s done it, as well. Many people.

Jamie:  Well, I think you brings such a unique take on it, though, because of the artistry you have. Both of these characters that you mentioned, have just been wonderfully nuanced, I think through your portrayal. So it might be just a little bit time for you to pat yourself on the back for what you’ve brought to the role on your own.

JACOB ANDERSON:   This one’s for you, Bailey.

QUESTION:   Question for Jacob and Sam, one of the really interesting things about this particular adaptation is the romance that we kind of finally get to see between Louis and Lestat. Can you speak to that a little bit? What does it mean to you to be able to portray that relationship in that way?

SAM REID:   Well, I think AMC has the rights to the entire Vampire Chronicles, and so it’s very important to make sure that relationship is established early on. Particularly as the books progress, it becomes much more clear that they are in a very intense romantic relationship. So, I think it’s it’s great to make sure that we’re serving the story correctly. And it wouldn’t be Anne Rice’s Interview With The Vampire if it wasn’t there. So, yeah.

QUESTION:   I was wondering, and this is kind of specifically for Bailey and Sam, the show doesn’t shy away from race or that being a factor at all for their very long life experience. Was that important to you? And were you afraid of any ignorant backlash, because previously, the characters were paid by white actors?

BAILEY BASS:   I was really excited to play Claudia. It’s really a dream to play such a complex character that’s very loud and unapologetic. I honestly didn’t think twice about anything else. I just knew that Rolin was very intentional about the actors that he wanted to cast in the show, and I’m very fortunate that I was one of them. I just dove into all the research. I read the book. I would cross reference the book and the script and see the quotes that Rolin took from the book and was very intentional about adding them into the script. After doing all the research, I mean, I became Claudia and it was fun to play her.

JACOB ANDERSON:   Yeah, I think something that Rolin’s done, which is – I’m almost loath to call it important, but like it creates a richness is that this isn’t a colorblind casting situation. Louis’ central question is about his humanity and his place in humanity. I think that if you were to cast a black actor or black actors for Louis and Claudia, and to not address that, you’d take a lot away from that question of their humanity. I’m glad that we don’t shy away from it. And in terms of backlash, I just don’t want to give it energy anymore. Like I just – people are going to – I think people need to be seen. Sometimes they’ll say anything to be seen or recognized, and it’s sad, but it’s the internet.

QUESTION:   I would love for you to talk a little bit about what it’s like just being vampires, being able to play vampires when biting people and having these kinds of scenes. What goes into that and how much fun is that to play? How difficult is that to play?

SAM REID:  

It’s very fun. It’s very fun. Yeah, you know, because we’ve got a lot of elements that come into every scene. So, they’re very beautiful, sort of rich dialogue-heavy scenes, but we also have this whole element of the vampire, you know, he kills, so we’ll be pausing for the blood to be put in. We had all these different types of blood that we’d been drinking and tasting, and they made us hibicus flavored blood when we had to drink large amounts of it.

JACOB ANDERSON:  

It did not taste like hibiscus. It tasted like it was like a Sour Patch Kid.

SAM REID:   Yeah.

JACOB ANDERSON:   But in liquid form.

SAM REID:   But there’s a lot of thought and consideration [that had] gone into this. But yeah, it’s so much fun, really. Vampires are, I think, the best type of monster, because they have so much humanity. They’re so articulate. They experience a huge amount. Anne Rice is responsible for our shift in vampires, because she puts the perspective into the eyes of the monster, and you have empathy for them. So, it’s very fun to do these really extreme, horrific things, but also with a level of understanding and empathy and bringing that into the character. So, it’s a fun thing to do.

JACOB ANDERSON:   It’s the best! It’s the best. The best monsters.

Jamie from SCIFI VISION:  So, obviously, you guys do go to some really dark places, though, with your characters. Can you sort of talk about getting into that headspace, and how you sort of, I guess, get back out of it? Is it hard to sort of go there? For all three of you.

BAILEY BASS:   Yeah, it’s hard. We had such long days that it kind of, for me personally, it was hard for me to differ[entiate], like, who’s Claudia and who’s Bailey. So, I kind of had to, like really sit with myself and reflect, but it’s hard. But then also, this is what I love to do, and playing such an extreme character, that’s what makes it fun is that I get to relive and be in these spaces that I would never normally be in if I didn’t get to play Claudia. But the dark, even though it’s dark and everything, I definitely enjoyed it. And I had Sam and Jacob, which they were incredible scene partners, and we all had each other. We made sure that throughout the whole process, our mental health, even though we’re like hysterically crying sometimes that afterwards, our mental health was still good,

SAM REID:   I think to Bailey’s point, like, sometimes the darkest jobs or the darkest sets where the material is the most bleak are the most fun, because, we instinctively know how to just kind of like, help ourselves through that. So, we’ll be making a lot of jokes. You know, it is ridiculous, sometimes what we’re doing, and you have to step back and think [laughs] You know, we’re suspended in the air, covered in blood, so we just kept it light. It was a fun thing to do.

JACOB ANDERSON:   Yeah, I agree. I mean, it’s dense. It’s dense, so you need to focus on the language as well. Like, aside from, yeah, we had a lot of fun, but when you’re doing the scene, you focus on what you’re doing. And I think if you let yourself get dragged into it too much, then hard to to do your job, I think.

Jamie from STARRY MAG:  Bailey, this is such a beautiful costume you have. Talk about when you first saw what you’d be wearing for the series, and if you had any input, and if it takes really putting on that costume to embody your character.

BAILEY BASS:   Costume is one of my favorite things in my job, being able to speak with the costume designer and be able to talk about what she saw when she read the script, because it’s not just me, it’s a big collaboration of an incredible crew that helps make us look good, basically. And to be able to talk to hair, makeup, and costume and get to know what their first ideas were when they read the script, and then being able to collaborate with them and say what I thought, was really, really fun. And the costume designer for this show, Carol, was just so collaborative. I came in and we were talking about posture. That’s a very big thing for Claudia, because in the beginning, she’s like fourteen years old, and she’s excited being a vampire. She would shrug a lot and just walked like, however and had terrible posture. So, the costume designer would think about that when she was making the costumes. And then also I have to look like a little girl. So, she created these beautiful bows along with making sure that the shape of my costumes hid any curves possible. So, when I put them on, I really felt like a little girl. So, when I was doing the scenes where Claudia is struggling, she wants to be a woman, and I’m sitting in this pink dress that it’s not flattering to anything that’s me as Bailey, it was really easy to feel what Claudia would be feeling at that moment.

Suzanne:   I really enjoyed the wedding scene and your dancing, Jacob; that was great. Was that actually you dancing? And did you have to train for that, or did you already know how, and will there be any more singing or dancing in the show?

JACOB ANDERSON:   That was me and Steven Norfleet, who plays Paul, and we had about a month to train, to practice. I don’t know if you’ve ever done tap dancing, but it’s like learning how to walk again, like how to walk for the first time, like to get your brain to coordinate in that way and to like shift the weight of your body is really confusing. And to add to that we did a lot of our lessons on Sikkim (???). And it’s all like, it’s all sound. You like making music with your feet, but with the lag of, of like, you know, doing it online. But you just drill; you just drill it every day. You drill it every day, and just you have to listen. It’s less about like being mechanical about your body and just like listening to the sound. But there is there is more dancing in the show.

Suzanne:   Oh, good.

JACOB ANDERSON:   Yeah. It was in the trailer, right?

SAM REID:   Yeah, the three of us did dancing lessons.

JACOB ANDERSON:   Yeah, we did.

QUESTION:   I’m curious to just have any of you or all of you talk a little bit about what you love most about the dynamic between all three of your characters, either once Claudia comes in, or kind of as that progresses.

JACOB ANDERSON:   I find it, I think from Louis’ point of view, he’s trying to recreate a kind of family dynamic that he is grieving for in his human life. I think it’s probably the thing that he misses most in some ways. It’s like a grounding thing, is his brother and his sister and his mom, maybe to a lesser extent, but maybe not. So, I find the way that it kind of goes for them, and for him, it’s kind of unexpected. I think he wanted, he was hoping that in bringing somebody else into their family, I think he thought that Claudia might be like him. [laughs] So, it’s interesting. I feel like an outcast, but to also be a part of – I mean, I’ll let Bailey talk more about about that part of it, but really, Claudia ends up being sort of forgotten about a little bit, and their dynamic, which is sad.

BAILEY BASS:   I think what’s wonderful though, is that there’s really no protagonist or antagonist. It changes through every scene in every episode, because these characters are so specific and complex, and Rolin Jones, the writer of the show, did an incredible job of explaining in depth why we do what we do. There’s a reason why we kill the people that we do, why we hurt each other. And because of that, the viewer kind of feels bad for the person hurting the other, but then also feels bad for the person being hurt.

QUESTION:   So, obviously, as vampires, your characters live very long lives. Which era would you like to see, be able to play your character in?

JACOB ANDERSON:   80s 80s 80s. I want the pastels. I want the hair. Let’s go, 80s.

SAM REID:   I’d probably do the 1700s. I think Lestat really that is where he’s from, and that’s the era in which he was born into, so I’d quite like to see him in that in that era.

BAILEY BASS:   I just want to get to the 50s. Like, I just want Claudia to get to the 50s so I can wear all those skirts and just explore more hairstyles, because we evolved. Doing the prep work, there wasn’t a lot of hairstyles – we had a horrible of time looking for photos of black girls in that time period with very versatile hair, which we know they existed, just no one took pictures of them. So, to be able to expand that more and show women who have curly hair, that this is what they look like in that time. I’d love to expand that and go into the 40s and 50s.

Transcribed by Jamie Ruby of ScifiVision

#interview #tvmeg #jacob anderson #sam reid #bailey bass #iwtv cast #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire