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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 month

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Oooh! A great Gavin Finney (Good Omens Director of Photography) interview with Helen Parkinson for the British Cinematographer! :)

HEAVEN SENT

Gifted a vast creative landscape from two of fantasy’s foremost authors to play with, Gavin Finney BSC reveals how he crafted the otherworldly visuals for Good Omens 2.

It started with a letter from beyond the grave. Following fantasy maestro Sir Terry Pratchett’s untimely death in 2015, Neil Gaiman decided he wouldn’t adapt their co-authored 1990 novel, Good Omens, without his collaborator. That was, until he was presented with a posthumous missive from Pratchett asking him to do just that.

For Gaiman, it was a request that proved impossible to decline: he brought Good Omens season one to the screen in 2019, a careful homage to its source material. His writing, complemented by some inspired casting – David Tennant plays the irrepressible demon Crowley, alongside Michael Sheen as angel-slash-bookseller Aziraphale – and award-nominated visuals from Gavin Finney BSC, proved a potent combination for Prime Video viewers.

Aziraphale’s bookshop was a set design triumph.

Season two departs from the faithful literary adaptation of its predecessor, instead imagining what comes next for Crowley and Aziraphale. Its storyline is built off a conversation that Pratchett and Gaiman shared during a jetlagged stay in Seattle for the 1989 World Fantasy Convention. Gaiman remembers: “The idea was always that we would tell the story that Terry and I came up with in 1989 in Seattle, but that we would do that in our own time and in our own way. So, once Good Omens (S1) was done, all I knew was that I really, really wanted to tell the rest of the story.”

Telling that story visually may sound daunting, but cinematographer Finney is no stranger to the wonderfully idiosyncratic world of Pratchett and co. As well as lensing Good Omens’ first outing, he’s also shot three other Pratchett stories – TV mini series Hogfather (2006), and TV mini-series The Colour of Magic (2008) and Going Postal (2010).

He relishes how the authors provide a vast creative landscape for him to riff off. “The great thing about Pratchett and Gaiman is that there’s no limit to what you can do creatively – everything is up for grabs,” he muses. “When we did the first Pratchett films and the first Good Omens, you couldn’t start by saying, ‘Okay, what should this look like?’, because nothing looks like Pratchett’s world. So, you’re starting from scratch, with no references, and that starting point can be anything you want it to be.”

Season two saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including Aziraphale’s bookshop.

From start to finish

The sole DP on the six-episode season, Finney was pleased to team up again with returning director Douglas Mackinnon for the “immensely complicated” shoot, and the pair began eight weeks of prep in summer 2021. A big change was the production shifting the main soho set from Bovington airfield, near London, up to Edinburgh’s Pyramids Studio. Much of the action in Good Omens takes place on the Soho street that’s home to Aziraphale’s bookshop, which was built as an exterior set on the former airfield for season one. Season two, however, saw the introduction of inside-outside sets for key locations including the bookshop, record store and pub, to minimise reliance on green screen.

Finney brought over many elements of his season one lensing, especially Mackinnon’s emphasis on keeping the camera moving, which involved lots of prep and testing. “We had a full-time Scorpio 45’ for the whole shoot (run by key grip Tim Critchell and his team), two Steadicam operators (A camera – Ed Clark and B camera Martin Newstead) all the way through, and in any one day we’d often go from Steadicam, to crane, to dolly and back again,” he says. “The camera is moving all the time, but it’s always driven by the story.”

One key difference for season two, however, was the move to large-format visuals. Finney tested three large-format cameras and the winner was the Alexa LF (assisted by the Mini LF where conditions required), thanks to its look and flexibility.

The minisodes were shot on Cooke anamorphics, giving Finney the ideal balance of anamorphic-style glares and characteristics without too much veiling flare.

A more complex decision was finding the right lenses for the job. “You hear about all these whizzy new lenses that are re-barrelled ancient Russian glass, but I needed at least two full sets for the main unit, then another set for the second unit, then maybe another set again for the VFX unit,” Finney explains. “If you only have one set of this exotic glass, it’s no good for the show.”

He tested a vast array of lenses before settling on Zeiss Supremes, supplied by rental house Media Dog. These ticked all the boxes for the project: “They had a really nice look – they’re a modern design but not over sharp, which can look a bit electronic and a bit much, especially with faces. When you’re dealing with a lot of wigs and prosthetics, we didn’t want to go that sharp. The Supremes had a very nice colour palette and nice roll-off. They’re also much smaller than a lot of large-format glass, so that made it easy for Steadicam and remote cranes. They also provided additional metadata, which was very useful for the VFX department (VFX services were provided by Milk VFX).”

The Supremes were paired with a selection of filters to characterise the show’s varied locations and characters. For example, Tiffen Bronze Glimmerglass were paired with bookshop scenes; Black Pro-Mist was used for Hell; and Black Diffusion FX for Crowley’s present-day storyline.

Finney worked closely with the show’s DIT, Donald MacSween, and colourist, Gareth Spensley, to develop the look for the minisode.

Maximising minisodes

Episodes two, three and four of season two each contain a ‘minisode’ – an extended flashback set in Biblical times, 1820s Edinburgh and wartime London respectively. “Douglas wanted the minisodes to have very strong identities and look as different from the present day as possible, so we’d instantly know we were in a minisode and not the present day,” Finney explains.

One way to shape their distinctive look was through using Cooke anamorphic lenses. As Finney notes: “The Cookes had the right balance of controllable, anamorphic-style flares and characteristics without having so much veiling flare that they would be hard to use on green screens. They just struck the right balance of aesthetics, VFX requirements and availability.” The show adopted the anamorphic aspect ratio (2:39.1), an unusual move for a comedy, but one which offered them more interesting framing opportunities.

Good Omens 2 was shot on the Alexa LF, paired with Zeiss Supremes for the present-day scenes.

The minisodes were also given various levels of film grain to set them apart from the present-day scenes. Finney first experimented with this with the show’s DIT Donald MacSween using the DaVinci Resolve plugin FilmConvert. Taking that as a starting point, the show’s colourist, Company 3’s Gareth Spensley, then crafted his own film emulation inspired by two-strip Technicolor. “There was a lot of testing in the grade to find the look for these minisodes, with different amounts of grain and different types of either Technicolor three-strip or two-strip,” Finney recalls. “Then we’d add grain and film weave on that, then on top we added film flares. In the Biblical scenes we added more dust and motes in the air.”

Establishing the show’s lighting was a key part of Finney’s testing process, working closely with gaffer Scott Napier and drawing upon PKE Lighting’s inventory. Good Omens’ new Scottish location posed an initial challenge: as the studio was in an old warehouse rather than being purpose-built for filming, its ceilings weren’t as high as one would normally expect. This meant Finney and Napier had to work out a low-profile way of putting in a lot of fixtures.

Inside Crowley’s treasured Bentley.

Their first task was to test various textiles, LED wash lights and different weight loadings, to establish what they were working with for the street exteriors. “We worked out that what was needed were 12 SkyPanels per 20’x20’ silk, so each one was a block of 20’x20’, then we scaled that up,” Finney recalls. “I wanted a very seamless sky, so I used full grid cloth which made it very, very smooth. That was important because we’ve got lots of cars constantly driving around the set and the sloped windscreens reflect the ceiling. So we had to have seamless textiles – PKE had to source around 12,000 feet of textiles so that we could put them together, so the reflections in the windscreens of the cars just showed white gridcloth rather than lots of stage lights. We then drove the car around the set to test it from different angles.”

On the floor, they mostly worked with LEDs, providing huge energy and cost savings for the production. Astera’s Titan Tubes came in handy for a fun flashback scene with John Hamm’s character Gabriel. The DP remembers: “[Gabriel] was travelling down a 30-foot feather tunnel. We built a feather tunnel on the stage and wrapped it in a ring of Astera tubes, which were then programmed by dimmer op Jon Towler to animate, pulse and change different colours. Each part of Gabriel’s journey through his consciousness has a different colour to it.”

Among the rigs built was a 20-strong Creamsource Vortex setup for the graveyard scene in the “Body Snatchers” minisode, shot in Stirling. “We took all the yokes off each light then put them on a custom-made aluminium rig so we could have them very close. We put them up on a big telehandler on a hill that gave me a soft mood light, which was very adjustable, windproof and rainproof.”

Shooting on the VP stage for the birth of the universe scenes in episode one.

Sky’s the limit

A lot of weather effects were done in camera – including lightning effects pulsed in that allowed both direct fork lightning and sheet lightning to spread down the streets. In the grade, colourist Spensley was also able to work his creative magic on the show’s skies. “Gareth is a very artistic colourist – he’s a genius at changing skies,” Finney says. “Often in the UK you get these very boring, flat skies, but he’s got a library of dramatic skies that you can drop in. That would usually be done by VFX, but he’s got the ability to do it in Baselight, so a flat sky suddenly becomes a glorious sunset.”

Finney emphasises that the grade is a very involved process for a series like Good Omens, especially with its VFX-heavy nature. “This means VFX sequences often need extra work when it comes back into the timeline,” says the DP. “So, we often add camera movement or camera shake to crank the image up a bit. Having a colourist like Gareth is central to a big show like Good Omens, to bring all the different visual elements together and to make it seamless. It’s quite a long grade process but it’s worth its weight in gold.”

Shooting in the VR cube for the blitz scenes .

Finney took advantage of virtual production (VP) technology for the driving scenes in Crowley’s classic Bentley. The volume was built on their Scottish set: a 4x7m cube with a roof that could go up and down on motorised winches as needed. “We pulled the cars in and out on skates – they went up on little jacks, which you could then rotate and move the car around within the volume,” he explains. “We had two floating screens that we could move around to fill in and use as additional source lighting. Then we had generated plates – either CGI or real location plates –projected 360º around the car. Sometimes we used the volume in-camera but if we needed to do more work downstream; we’d use a green screen frustum.” Universal Pixels collaborated with Finney to supply in-camera VFX expertise, crew and technical equipment for the in-vehicle driving sequences and rear projection for the crucial car shots.

John Hamm was suspended in the middle of this lighting rig and superimposed into the feather tunnel.

Interestingly, while shooting at a VP stage in Leith, the team also used the volume as a huge, animated light source in its own right – a new technique for Finney. “We had the camera pointing away from [the volume] so the screen provided this massive, IMAX-sized light effect for the actors. We had a simple animation of the expanding universe projected onto the screen so the actors could actually see it, and it gave me the animated light back on the actors.”

Bringing such esteemed authors’ imaginations to the screen is no small task, but Finney was proud to helped bring Crowley and Aziraphale’s adventures to life once again. He adds: “What’s nice about Good Omens, especially when there’s so much bad news in the world, is that it’s a good news show. It’s a very funny show. It’s also about good and evil, love and doing the right thing, people getting together irrespective of backgrounds. It’s a hopeful message, and I think that that’s what we all need.”

Finney is no stranger to the idiosyncratic world of Sir Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

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librarycards · 4 months

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Sorry for being dumb but I want to start submitting to literary magazines, but...how do I actually make a submission? What do I write in the email or msg? Lol sorry I'm full of Anxiety..

totally legit question that everyone has when starting out! different places are different levels of strict wrt cover letters, but here's a template i use for everything:

Dear ["editors" or editors' name(s)] I am writing to submit [PIECE(S)' TITLES, word/poem count] to be considered for publication in [MAG NAME]. [Specify whether or not they are under simultaneous consideration elsewhere and/or previously published]. [Specify any content warnings needed for the pieces - do *not* summarize your submission, just do CWs] Thanks in advance for your time and I look forward to hearing from you. Warmly, [NAME] [Bio: (50-100 words with your name, affiliation(s), previous publications, interests, location, anything you deem relevant)]

Your cover letter should be brief, friendly, polite, and to-the-point. A few mags might request something else specific in their guidelines, and this is why you *always* read the submission guidelines and at least a few pieces from the mag before even beginning your own submission. But the above has served me well for like 8 years across a ton of different mags/sites/platforms as a base.

#writing #ask #anonymous

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txttletale · 19 days

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is there any more reliable fact behind what people some trans people say about like cults of cybele

yes! the galli, their practice of self-castration, and their feminine dress and presentation are very well attested by many sources: among them catullus, ovid, varro, livy, and polybius, off the top of my head.

of course, we have no actual accounts from the galli themselves: we can only speculate as to what their subjectivity wrt gender might have been, let alone to the myriad different relationships any individual gallus might have had. however, we can at least know that their presentation was feminine by choice: there is archeological attestation for honorific monuments and art depicting galli in feminine dress, often commissioned by galli themselves, and for them being buried in it. so unlike elagabalus, who in his commissioned statues and coins is always depicted purely masculinely we do have some definitinve information about how the galli at least purposefully presented themselves to the world.

attitudes to them shift throughout Roman history and from source to source, from mild curiosity, to contempt, to violent hatred--we don't, unfortunately, have a lot of writing about the galli in and of themselves--many of their mentions are cautionary tales, a 'what not to do' guide for aristocratic roman men seeking to avoid effeminacy or gender deviance. different authors describe them in different ways: varro calls them 'half-men' (semiviri), while catullus' attis says 'ego mulier' (i, a woman) but also 'ego epherbus, ego puer' (i, a young man and a boy) in her lament over the loss of access to the world of manhood her devotion has resulted in.

but yeah, there is absolutely a gigantic body of evidence for the existence of the itinerant priesthood of cybele being a known and constant part of Roman life, for their having flouted gender roles, practiced self-castration, and adopted feminine presentation, clothing, and appearances of their own accord. take from this what you will! i certainly think that in the project of attempting to locate transfemininity throughout history, it is certainly a more fruitful and worthy ground than the lurid tales of elagabalus and his Big Dick Surveillance Squad.

some recommended reading if you're curious:

“Fabulous Clap-Trap”: Roman Masculinity, the Cult of Magna Mater, and Literary Constructions of the galli at Rome from the Late Republic to Late Antiquity, Jacob Latham

Transgendered Archeology: the Galli and the Catterick Transvestite, Renato Pinto & Gretel Luciano

Looking for eunuchs: the galli and Attis in Roman art, Shelley Hales (in Eunuchs in Antiquity and Beyond, ed. Shaun Tougher)

#ask #Anonymous

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rebeccathenaturalist · 8 months

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I have THE biggest, BEST news EVER--

I GOT A BOOK CONTRACT!!!!!!!!

I am exceptionally pleased to announce that I have just signed a contract with Ten Speed Press (a division of Penguin Random House) to publish...

The Everyday Naturalist: How to Identify Animals, Plants, and Fungi Wherever You Go!

It is slated for publication in early Summer 2025, and will be written for anyone who wants to be able to identify the living beings around them regardless of educational level or experience. A HUGE thank you to my literary agent Jane Dystel of Dystel, Goderich & Bourret LLC, and my editor at Ten Speed Press, Julie Bennett!

This isn't just another field guide--it's a how-to book on nature identification that helps you go from "I have no idea what this animal/plant/fungus is and I don't know where to start" to "Aha! I know how to figure out what species I'm looking at/hearing!" Those familiar with my nature ID classes know that I emphasize skills and tools accessible to everyday people. Whether you're birdwatching, foraging, or just enjoying the nature around you, my goal is to help you be more confident in figuring out what living beings you encounter wherever you go--and not just in the Pacific Northwest.

The Everyday Naturalist will not only explain what traits you need to pay attention to like color, size, shape, location, etc. and how to use them to differentiate among similar species, but will also detail how and when to use tools like apps, field guides, and more. (And given the current kerfuffle about A I generated foraging books, I will of course include information on how to determine the veracity of a given book or other resource.) And my editor and I have already been discussing some great additions to the book that will make it even more user-friendly!

Are you excited about this? I certainly am! I wanted to wait until the pixels were dry on the contract before going public with this (though my newsletter subscribers got to hear about it last month, lucky them!) It still doesn't feel real, but I'm already working on the manuscript so it'll sink in soon enough.

I will, of course, keep you all apprised of my progress because this project is going to be a big part of my life over the next several months as I write and edit and write and edit and wash, rinse, repeat. So keep your eyes on this space for updates (and feel free to add yourself to my monthly email newsletter here, too!)

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visit-new-york · 7 months

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Chrysler Building. Gazing from Afar

Photographic Icon: The Chrysler Building has become an iconic subject for photographers, its gleaming facade and Art Deco details offering endless creative inspiration.

Artistic Muse: Artists and creatives worldwide continue to draw from the Chrysler Building's unique blend of elegance and innovation, making it a timeless muse in the worlds of art and design.

Architectural Symbolism: The spire of the Chrysler Building reaches high into the sky, symbolizing not just the ambition of the building's creators but also the aspirations of an entire era.

Elevated Gargoyles: The eagle gargoyles that adorn the 61st floor of the Chrysler Building's crown are among the highest architectural elements in New York City, adding to their mystique and symbolism.

Structural Drama: The Chrysler Building's design is a dramatic departure from traditional skyscraper aesthetics, with its setbacks and ornamentation creating a dynamic visual narrative.

Chrysler Building. Cultural Legacy

Literary Inspiration: The Chrysler Building has featured prominently in literature, serving as a backdrop for various novels and stories that capture the essence of New York City.

Film Icon: Its distinctive appearance has made the Chrysler Building a sought-after location for film and television productions, adding to its cultural prominence.

Design Evolution: The influence of the Chrysler Building's Art Deco style is visible in the design of numerous buildings, both in the United States and around the world.

Fashion Forward: Art Deco, epitomized by the Chrysler Building, has left an indelible mark on fashion, with its geometric patterns and sleek lines finding their way onto clothing and accessories.

Cultural Significance: Beyond its architectural marvel, the Chrysler Building is a symbol of the enduring spirit of innovation, aspiration, and creativity that defines New York City.

Chrysler Building. Preservation and Restoration

Ongoing Preservation: Dedicated efforts by preservationists ensure that the Chrysler Building's exquisite details and structural integrity continue to shine, safeguarding its heritage.

Art Deco Revival: The resurgence of interest in Art Deco design has brought renewed attention to the Chrysler Building's architectural significance.

Sustainability Initiatives: Modernization efforts have also extended to sustainability, with upgrades to the building's energy efficiency and environmental impact.

Visitor Experience: While the Chrysler Building is primarily a commercial office building, its lobby remains accessible to the public, allowing visitors to appreciate its Art Deco grandeur.

A Living Legacy: The Chrysler Building's legacy is not frozen in time but continues to evolve, adapting to the needs of a changing world while preserving the timeless essence of its design.

Chrysler Building. A Beacon of Hope

Iconic Beacon: The Chrysler Building's illuminated crown serves as a symbol of hope and unity, often illuminated in special colors to commemorate important events or causes.

Cultural Connection: Its presence in the New York City skyline is a source of cultural connection, a shared symbol that binds residents and visitors alike.

Historical Resilience: The Chrysler Building has withstood the test of time, remaining steadfast through historical events and shifts in cultural preferences.

Artistic Representation: Countless artists have depicted the Chrysler Building in their works, capturing its beauty and significance in various mediums.

A Promise of Tomorrow: As the sun sets behind the Chrysler Building, its illuminated crown stands as a beacon, reminding us that even in challenging times, there is always a brighter future on the horizon.

The Chrysler Building, with its timeless elegance and architectural innovation, continues to inspire and captivate. Its enduring legacy reminds us of the power of human creativity, determination, and the enduring spirit of New York City. In its gleaming spire and Art Deco splendor, we find not just a building, but a symbol of aspiration and a testament to the heights that can be achieved through bold vision and unwavering dedication.

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#Chrysler Building #new york city #new-york #new york #newyork #nyc #ny #urban #manhattan #city #usa #United States #buildings #travel #journey #outdoors #street #architecture #visit-new-york.tumblr.com

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life-imitates-art-far-more · 10 months

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Romaine Brooks (1874-1970) "Una, Lady Troubridge" (1924) Oil on canvas Located in the Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC, United States Una Troubridge was a British aristocrat, literary translator, and the lover of Radclyffe Hall, author of the 1928 groundbreaking lesbian novel, "The Well of Loneliness." Troubridge appears with a sense of formality and importance typical of upper-class portraiture, but with the sitter's prized dachshunds in place of the traditional hunting dog. Troubridge's impeccably tailored clothing, cravat, and bobbed hair convey the fashionable and daring androgyny associated with the so-called new woman. Her monocle suggested multiple symbolic associations to contemporary British audiences: it alluded to Troubridge's upper-class status, her Englishness, her sense of rebellion, and possibly her lesbian identity.

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sexydoffyman · 1 month

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Could I maybe get an NSFW alphabet plz with male reader? Thanks!

NSFW ALPHABET - KÖNIG

navigation

genre: smut

characters: König

A/n: a friend pf mine pronounces his name like qwajnk.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh boy. He doesn't really seem like it but he really fucking likes cuddles. He definitely uses his height to his advantage. (You're getting grounded, literary) He is a little self-conscious after sex. He knows he's big. He also knows he could hurt you pretty badly. Thoughts of you hating him or losing interest fill his head. He just has to grab you and make sure you stay there with him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his arms. You can grab on them, and it makes them seem even bigger than they already are. He likes putting you in a chokehold.

What he favours the most in you are your legs. Thighs specifically. He doesn't really have a reason for it. He just likes them. Let the man get some thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Average texture, not super thick, but also not watery. Hex - f3f5e6 Big man big load. Usually pulls out and catches it in his hand. (He doesn't want to add work by having to clean anything up) He also doesn't really want you to swallow it. He is mature he doesn't need a porn actor who will do anything to satisfy a dude. He'd rather have real sex.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn't fit in a fleshlight. He's pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's over 40. Definitely has a pretty big body count. About 27 I'd say. (counting one-night stands) He finally found someone on whom he can use his knowledge on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Spooning or the seashell.

When he spoons you he can put you in a chokehold, making you fight back a little. On the other hand, when he bends your legs you won't be able to fucking move.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious but not a nerd kinda serious. He just doesn't speak much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps a solid bush on there. (He does make sure to clean it properly) It is not messy. He's got a little thicker happy trail. And he's a pretty brunet down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be pretty brutal both with his actions and with his words. Or he can be soft with both. It depends on both of your moods.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This testosterone-filled man definitely jerks off. Even when you are around (Doesn't try to hide it)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Being in control. I mean, can you blame him. He has the perfect body and occupation for it. Speaking of body.

Size difference. Again it just feels right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He could fuck anywhere. Even tho he likes it the most from the safety of your bedroom he wouldn't mind a public bathroom or a friend's bedroom. He likes to be sneaky. Has never been caught once.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything.

Do anything he's hard instantly. That's why he jerks off so much.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you want it he wants it. Except threesomes. He wants you for himself. Who could blame him when he has such a pretty thing only for him. Why would he share

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. He isn't bad at giving but he can use his hands and dick way better than his mought.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough all the way. He loves to be in control and he's got all this raw strength and energy. Why not use it?

He also likes the slow and sensual. Both of you need a break sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd go for them more often, but he doesn't really want to bother you. Another reason for him jerking off a lot.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s always pulling you to the side, finding a place to make you take him. He is obsessed of holding the door to make sure no one gets in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This dude. Bruv can go as long as you can go. He will take you to the stars and back and it’ll take him only a minute to catch his breath.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not a fan of them. He’d rather have you on his dick not some plastic. He doesn’t find much pleasure in them either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Based on his mood.

He could play with you as he holds you down.

Or he could be quick about it.

He for sure doesn’t mind teasing you. Touching your thigh is his favourite way to do so.

V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is dead silent. Sometimes it freaks you out. But if he finds out you enjoy the sounds he makes he will definitely try to add more of ‘em

Slight sighing when he lays his body on yours, little grunts and the occasional “fuck”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s into stalking. It doesn’t matter of it’s you stalking him or the other way around. He loves the thrill.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7.5 inches abnormaly thick. #e0ae82 base #ba7f68 tip. Slightly curved to the left.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Boy can go anywhere anytime. Public bathroom, bed, a random fucking room. He’s always thinking of it. Hard 24/7

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to talk a bit afterwards but he will fall asleep like a baby right after he’s done.

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creative-type · 10 months

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The Romanticism of One Piece

I’m always amazed by how Oda has managed to stay thematically consistent for more than two decades while writing a thousand plus chapter epic about silly pirates having fun chasing their dreams. One Piece, at its core, is about the dawn of a romantic adventure, and its been that way since volume one, chapter one.

But romance is one of those terms whose meaning as shifted over the years and is drastically misunderstood. So what is literary romance, and how does One Piece fit within its framework?

Well buckle up, folks. This is gonna be a long one.

Romanticism as a movement started in the late 18th century, and is described by Isaiah Berlin as the “the greatest single shift in the consciousness of the West”. The modern ideas of childhood, imagination, and sentimentality were born here. It’s a rejection of society’s constraints in favor of impossible yearning for impossible goals. Romantics were restless and passionate, and embraced the magnitude of their feeling over the scientific rigors of the Age of Reason.

Sound familiar?

Romanticism gets its name from the old medieval ballads (themselves written in the Romantic languages) that became popular with the growing movement. The 19th century was a period of incredible change. Industrialization, urbanization, and the development of the middle class were all new. Revolution, both industrial and political, was changing the course of the world forever. The Romantics worshiped heroes of the past (in fact, the term hero worship was coined during this time) and sought a return to nature. William Wordsworth famously lobbied against the building of railways in his beloved Lake District, and much of the art of the time, whether it be painting or poetry, focused heavily on man’s relation with nature

In addition to rebelling against traditional political structures, the Romantics also broke away from the traditional religious teaching, many believing that man found enlightenment not through theology or the bible, but by study and attunement with nature. One of proto-Romantic writer Jean-Jaques Rousseau’s most influential works Emile, or On Education was banned in parts of Europe and even publicly burned due to its ideas on natural religion.

All of this leads to the Romantic pursuit of the sublime. While Enlightenment thinkers would often attempt to remove themselves emotionally from what they were experiencing in order to understand said experience through objective, immutable fact, the Romantics sought emotion, awe, and reverence that transcended rational thought. They celebrated and marveled at the wonders of creation, allowing themselves to be consumed by emotion and experience. These were not stoic people, and its here where One Piece truly begins to shine as a work of Romantic art

The world of One Piece, particularly once the story gets to the Grand Line, is chalk full of impossible wonder and whimsy. Each island visited along the journey is a feast for the eyes, and Oda’s art does each distinct and incredible location every justice. Luffy has no desire to see the boring or everyday, and he has no qualm in expressing his excitement everywhere he goes. Oda has made the conscious decision never to let the reader look into Luffy’s thoughts via thought bubbles, but the audience is still able to connect with him because they are always aware of what he he is feeling. Every smile takes up half his face, every sadness drawn as a sniveling wreck. Logical ideas are routinely rejected in favor of desired experiences, and Luffy himself rejects the opportunity to hear the answer to the series’s biggest questions because to him, the journey is more important.

It’s important that Luffy’s mindset isn’t all that common, even a world as wild and wacky as One Piece. As the Jaya arc proves, Roger’s execution initially inspired a generation of pirates to go out and follow their dreams, but in the twenty years since his death that ideaolgy has crumbled under the weight of a new wave of dreamless pragmaticism, the same way the Romantic movement gave way to the Realists who followed.

Luffy’s Romantic spirit stands out, even amongst the Straw Hat Pirates. Many of the Straw Hat’s character arcs involve Luffy helping to remove the blocks that prevent them from living out their Romantic ideals. As the series progresses, the crew inches towards embodying that freedom of spirit that Luffy exemplifies. What that looks like for each crewmate is different (Romanticism is highly individualistic, after all) but they’re given the opportunity to live out that ideal because of their association with Luffy.

This theme of freedom of expression and pursuit of dreams follows the Straw Hats wherever they go on both the micro and macro level. The Romantic pursuit of self-determination bleeds over nearly every arc with Luffy at its epicenter, until it comes to a crescendo during the Wano arc, when the true nature of Luffy’s fruit comes to light for the first time.

Luffy is the beating heart of One Piece’s Romanticism. He specifically imbues many of the Romantic ideals of childhood, such as innocence, joy, and being unprejudiced by a corrupting society. He’s uncomplicated yet passionate, without a care in the world for what anyone else thinks about him, and because of that disregard for authority he comes off as equal parts wise and naive.

In Emile, Rousseau lays out his idea of childhood education, which doesn’t include a classroom so much as the child’s interaction with the world, emphasizing the senses and building on the child’s own observations and inferences. The Romantic child was instinctual and in tune with nature, and a character like Luffy growing up on the fringes of society while spending most of his time romping around in the woods would not be out of place (see Mary Robinson’s The Savage of Aveyron, based on the real story of a feral boy that had been found in France).

What makes Luffy different is that he never loses that simplicity of character even as he interacts with an increasingly complex world. Yes, he matures both as a person and a captain, bearing the weight of terrible loss and difficult decisions, but he does it still while maintaining that curious mix of selfish desire to do whatever he wants and selfless sacrifice towards the people he cares about. Luffy doesn’t want to be a hero, but remains uncorrupted by the malevolent social hierarchies that rule One Piece’s world.

But for all the ways One Piece is a Romantic story, the philosophy of the series departs in several key places. The Romantics of the late 18th and 19th centuries were reacting to the anxieties brought around by the Industrial Revolution and the subsequent urbanization that came along with it, while One Piece belongs squarely to the post-modern era of the 21st. While both glorify a long-gone past, what that past looks like is very different. One Piece fully embraces technology and progress, as best seen during the conflict between Noland and Calgura in the Skypia flashback. While industrialization is sometimes portrayed negatively (see Wano) it’s just as likely to be seen in a positive light (Water 7), and the mysterious civilization of the Void Century was more technologically advanced than the present day manga, not less.

What’s more important than modernization and technological advance is the ways people use said technology. The beautifully rendered locations along the Straw Hat’s journey are just as likely to be vast stretches of wilderness as bustling metropolises, and that search of wonder and the sublime is equally likely to be found in both.

More importantly, I think, is that the Romantics of old were solitary creatures, brooding and isolated from the people around them. There was a preoccupation of creating art devoid of outside influence. The sublime was a deeply personal experience that by its very nature could not be shared with others. Melancholy, loss, solitude, and death were preoccupations of the Romantic mind, the price of visionary genius being social isolation.

One of the most famous Romantic heroes of the 19th century was Thomas Chatterton, a young genius of a poet who, in the midst of poverty and depression killed himself at the age of 17. He was immortalized in paintings and poems, and his influence can be felt to this day by the persistence of the trope of the suffering artist that he, and countless others, helped codify.

One Piece is the story of a boy who rejects the confines of society in search of his own freedom, but he does not do so alone. Luffy is driven as much by the desire to be with his friends as he is by his desire to find the One Piece. The series agrees that risking death is an acceptable part of chasing ones dream, but rejects the notion that it should be sought out or celebrated. It’s better to live an undignified life in the hope of a better tomorrow than to give into an easy death.

And that’s the fascinating part about how philosophies evolve over time, because as much as One Piece borrows from the Romantic era of the 18 and 19th centuries, it isn’t a Romantic story, just as how no amount of research and copying of style could ever turn a historical novel written today into a product of the era its trying to emulate. Oda has taken an old idea and made it into something new, using that idea as the guide for the entire series. Like sun, guiding to the dawn of a new era.

A Romance dawn, if you will.

#one piece #romanticism #creative-type analyzes #monkey d luffy #guess what I wrote instead of sleeping

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jokeroutsubs · 4 months

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ENG translation: If we believed that we were "kings", that wouldn't be us

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin for Slovenian newspaper Delo, originally published on 24.12.2023. Audio version by IG GBoleyn123

Original article is available here for Delo subscribers. Original article written by Lucijan Zalokar for Delo; photos by Jože Suhadolnik; English translation by a member of Joker Out Subs, native proof reading by IG GBoleyn123.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

With Bojan Cvjetićanin about the international breakthrough of Joker Out, the movie Kaj pa Ester?, about life on the road, football, sociology…

I met up with Bojan Cvjetićanin in Ljubljana's Stegne industrial zone, where the members of the popular pop rock (in their jargon: shagadelic rock'n'roll) group Joker Out created a rehearsal space for themselves two years ago. "Lately we've been on the road a lot, but this is still a great second home. If only you knew about the parties that happened here. There were fifty people dancing downstairs," he proudly looked from a small gallery towards the space that measures approximately thirty square metres. Even though the clock had just struck three in the afternoon, the 24-year-old Ljubljana resident had a long day behind him, which had been entirely dedicated to media obligations.

In journalistic circles, we often hear indignation about how modern day influencers - especially those who had gained their influence on social media - have no books on their shelves. Joker Out are first and foremost musicians, of course, but with 150,000 followers (Bojan's personal profile has 190,000) on Instagram, we can count them among the big Slovenian influencers. And there are plenty of books on their shelves.

I don't want to falsely portray the popular fivesome as enlightened donors to the Slovenian literary market: most of the books resemble those you can buy for little money in second-hand bookshops, or even get for free at library write-offs, but they still deserve praise for both the aesthetic sense and the content.

I also don't want to falsely portray the books as the only notable objects in the rehearsal space. There are also the golden plate for the Eurovision single Carpe Diem, which got over two million streams in Finland, a transfusion bag (Rh-) that Tomi Meglič¹, Cvjetićanin's biggest teenage idol, personally brought to them, and a small shop's worth of props given to them by fans: pillows with hand-embroidered patterns, plushies, bras with Instagram accounts written on them, various sweets, you could even find a vinyl from a Soviet cover band of The Beatles. If things continue like that, they soon won't have any space left for instruments, but those are just sweet worries. Joker Out, who were formed in 2016, are currently conquering Europe in a way that the Slovenian music scene has never seen before.

¹frontman of Siddharta, whose third album was called Rh-

I've heard that you approach your job with the utmost professionalism and that you wake up at five in the morning for media obligations.

That's true, today we started early in the morning in Maribor. The first few hours were the most tiring because we were constantly changing locations and driving around the city. After the third or fourth activity, we relaxed a little because we got to the studio. After that, everyone started coming to us instead of the other way around.

Slovenian cinemas have started playing the movie Kaj pa Ester? in which you play a boy who enrolled in high school just to get close to his ex girlfriend again. Did you have any problems with trying to get into the high school mentality?

We filmed the movie two years ago, when my memories of high school were much more fresh than they are today. But on the other hand, I played a boy who had just finished the ninth grade of primary school, so I had to put myself into the shoes of a primary school kid, which is much harder. We're also pretty different personality-wise. But almost the entire cast was around the same age, so too old. We joked about that a lot during filming.

Still, that's nothing unusual in the movie world.

Of course, there are 35-year-olds starring in High School Musical and no one is complaining.

Could you draw any parallels between a musical stage performance and filming a movie? You have to play a kind of role during a concert too...

I have to admit that it's completely different. On stage, I never feel like I'm performing. Of course I am actually performing, but I'm still in the role of myself, Bojan, whereas in the movie, I'm someone completely different. It might be easier to compare filming a movie with recording music in the studio, but there are big differences there as well. The biggest one is that for a movie, the director has the main and the final say. You have to trust him. When you film a scene, you don't even see what you've filmed for a long time. The movie in which I play one of the main roles will be played in cinemas, and I don't even know what I will look like on the big screen. It's different with music, because us authors listen to the songs a hundred times, a thousand times; we're the ones who make all the final decisions. That's quite a mental leap, but I didn't have too many problems with it, because I knew the previous projects of that team. V dvoje ('In a tandem') is my favourite Slovenian TV series. On the other hand, I needed time to get used to this new method of working. If I asked to see the scene we'd filmed one more time, but the director said it was good, we kept filming without hesitation.

You said that on stage, you are always in the role of yourself. Does the nature of that role change from concert to concert? And what influences it? The audience, the outfit…

The outfit has an influence for sure. More than I initially thought. Lately we've been playing with our stage look a lot and looking for the right combination. I currently find that the outfit suits me very well, it's just the shoes that bother me because they're too rigid. I have to change them. They're huge and massive, which makes me feel like I'm clumsily marching around the stage, whereas during rehearsals I wear sneakers and I'm therefore a lot more in the mood for dancing.

What about the language you sing in? Many people say that they feel as if by switching between different languages, they are also switching between their personalities.

I agree. When you change the language, your voice has a different colour and register, you come up with different jokes than in your mother tongue. If I lead a concert in Slovenian, Serbian, or English, I'm a different dude every time. This is also influenced by my notion that each time, I'm performing for a different group of people who are connected by a certain mentality. In Slovenia, I'm performing as a local for locals, and I feel like there are different "game rules" than for example in Croatia or Serbia. Elsewhere, I feel like I don't even think about this.

How did you get the idea to start creating and singing in English? You already broke through internationally with Slovenian.

Us creating in foreign languages isn't so much a result of wanting to break through internationally and the mentality that only English ensures global success. If we thought that way, we wouldn't have gone to Eurovision with a Slovenian song. We're primarily driven by a desire to learn new things, to push the boundaries... In the studio, it's similar to being on the stage. If you change the language, you're not only a different person on stage, but also inside your head. Your creativity is different. Playing with languages is actually also playing with your own creativity, because you enter a different space, a different mentality. The song Sunny Side of London could not have been made if we hadn't mentally transported ourselves to an English-speaking space. We want many more projects like that, not necessarily in English.

Can you be more specific? What kind of mentality do you associate Sunny Side of London with?

That song is a sort of homage to all the people who have suddenly become part of our story. Sunny Side of London has nothing to do with London as such. I was looking for a name of a well-known place with which to name all our concerts, and I decided on London.

The first time I said the words Are you guys real? – Is this really happening, are you really here and singing our songs? – on the stage, certain English phrases snuck into my mind. What the hell is going on? and so on. We also experienced, for the first time, foreigners coming up to us and talking about their own experiences connected to our music. That was something completely new for us. We listened to all those stories in English, as our fans of course can't speak Slovenian, even though they can sing our Slovenian lyrics. Sunny Side of London therefore emerged as a collection of all the experiences and stories that fans told us after gigs.

You've already touched on fans who sing your lyrics by heart from Finland to Spain. Could you highlight the nation with the best ear for the Slovenian language?

On the latest tour, when we visited Lithuania, Poland, Czechia and Croatia, there were moments when I felt like I was singing in Slovenia. In Prague, I filmed the audience singing Umazane misli without me. As if I were in Križanke, for example. But it's even more fascinating that people sing well in England and Nordic countries too. It's understandable that our Slavic brothers have the best ear for Slovenian, but northerners aren't far off either.

How much of your international success do you attribute to the Eurovision performance?

A huge amount.

If you had to express it in a percentage?

99.9.

Really?

Definitely. It was an incredible catapult. Whenever I ask the audience at our international concerts if anyone was already with us before Eurovision, a few hands shoot up every time, but those are rare exceptions.

How do you explain the fact that you finished in the relatively humble 21st place in Liverpool, but your visibility still grew in leaps and bounds?

We were very, very, very dedicated to the Eurovision project. We put a lot of time and energy into demonstrating to the people who were open to it that we weren't just a three-minute performance, but very much an existing band that has made many songs and that lives on stage. With time, and of course in connection with the Eurovision performance, more and more listeners got to know that. We clearly showed them: we are here, we are real, try it, connect with us.

Because they had so much different content available, this actually happened. I think it was also because they saw that Joker Out really was made out of five completely regular dudes from Slovenia who live a totally normal life, and at the same time we make music and have a great time doing it. That is already a slight deviation from what's been happening recently, when we're being bombarded from all sides by messages that we need to distance ourselves from each other, that we have to hate each other...

That was the sociologist in you talking.

That's true. The atmosphere in society nowadays is such that it emphasises individuality more than building a team. Young people, however, need and want to be part of a community. And we offered them that chance.

Where does your interest in social sciences come from? Your father is a gynecologist, your mother a pediatrician, and you have a degree in sociology.

I had a very good professor in high school. If you wanted to listen to him, he offered a lot of knowledge. Even though sociologists often think about society in an abstract way, the subject always felt tangible to me. I recognised it in very concrete life situations that I was trying to understand. At my final exams, I did a great job with sociology with very little effort – and then made a mistake and enrolled in economics. I wavered between those two options from the start, and in the end, what tipped the scales were the warnings of many people I knew that sociology doesn't have good employment prospects. I gave in to the pressure and very quickly realised I had made the wrong decision. I gave up on economics after the first semester. That was when I seriously threw myself into the band, we made Gola, and then I transferred to sociology and there was happiness all around.

You clearly won't work as a sociologist for a while yet, if ever...

But I am a sociologist.

In your soul?

No, as my profession. Us musicians are sociologists. A lot of sociological terms could easily be transferred into our environment. Locale, for example. In third year, the professor asked me several times: Well, Cvjetićanin, if you have a concert, is that locale or something else? And then I said it was locale and started rambling on. (laughter)

So you are a singing sociologist?

Exactly.

How do you explain the success of Joker Out from a sociological point of view? How do your songs address the zeitgeist?

I write the lyrics exclusively based on stories that really happened. Not necessarily to me, but to people I love. Therefore, I have a strong emotional relationship with the subject matter. My opinion is that there will always be people who will connect with the story if it's real. Because it's easiest for us to connect with real emotions. Our songs are love songs, they talk about finding yourself and personal growth, some are socially critical... I think that I have managed to find the right balance between being direct and being poetic.

I'll word it differently. The Beatles already sang about love and personal growth. And they weren't the first ones by far. Later on, those same themes were covered by hundreds of successful bands and an infinite number of slightly less successful ones.

I think that nowadays, we most often associate societal changes with technological development. Technological advances largely dictate the rhythm of our life. But those advances are mostly just a substitute for something that already existed in the past. The basic emotions have therefore certainly stayed the same. Love, fear, hatred... I think that the use of language is very important here. Even though the emotions don't change, the way we put them into words does. In music, too. I don't sing about a topic the same way my peers would have in the 1970s. Consequentially, our relationship with emotions is changing and evolving as well. As if our entire society is gravitating towards the point of holding the belief that it's better for an individual to feel less and less, and in a more and more censored way.

On the one hand, excessive use of social media and other media causes us to feel like distinct individuals. On the other hand, it connects us to the world and places us into a very wide picture. In every moment, we are only a click away from becoming cosmopolitan and being able to access all the information, events, and people, but at the same time, that's exactly what reminds us that we are a small and actually not very important dot on this planet. The magnitude of everything that's constantly available to us makes us feel small. I think that we mostly listen to, watch, and use those who manage to poke the spot that unnerves people the most in this context. If performers manage to break through the firewall of someone's VPN, then those people will also show their interest in an analogue way. Otherwise, they will only be a swipe away.

And now a question that's more psychological than sociological: do you ever try to get into the heads of the people who time and again show their interest in very analogue ways?

I have an infinite appreciation for their dedication, because for myself, I don't see the chance of a phenomenon exciting me so much that I would be ready to dedicate so much time and love to it.

So you've never been a very hardcore fan?

If, at twelve years old, I had to highlight one musicians that I would've wanted to meet more than anyone in the world, that would definitely have been Tomi Meglič. That hasn't changed to this day. The only difference is that we meet up with Tomi and we're friends. I still feel the highest possible level of respect for him. Every time he calls me, I am extremely proud of myself. But I still cannot imagine going to, say, Berlin tomorrow if Siddharta were playing there and I had a free day. I'd go to Maribor or Zagreb, but absolutely not across all of Europe the way the biggest fans do. Not even at twelve. I could sooner imagine that at that age, a football match rather than a concert would be the thing that excited me beyond all reason.

We're probably talking about two groups of celebrities that get worshipped as deities by the masses in Western society: footballers and pop and rock musicians. And this is probably linked to emotions again.

True. The thing that wakes up a person's sense of smell, sight, and all other emotions that overcame them as a child, is what has the best possibility of succeeding.

Now please explain how this is connected to football.

If I go to a concert by Siddharta, Big Foot Mama, Magnifico, I turn into a ten-year-old kid who will explode from happiness. There's no Bojan anymore. He gets lost. It's the same with football. When I watch it, I dream about how I played for Slovan² as a kid and what I wanted more than anything was to score a goal and for everyone in the stands to yell: Yeeeees!

²ND Slovan is a football club from Ljubljana

You don't score goals, but you are in a similar position that Tomi Meglič used to be in.

All the band members come from very loving families that have always provided us with a very good support system and instilled basic values in us that we internalised deeply. That is why everything that's currently happening around us hasn't gone to our heads in a way that would make us think that we're bigger or more important than anyone else. If we started believing that we were "kings" because everyone was clapping for us and singing our songs, that would probably be a very strong feeling, but that simply wouldn't be us. We mostly love to see all the people, because we know how much we mean to them and how much they mean to us. Without them, we wouldn't be able to focus on what's most important to us – our music. On the other hand, I can say with a thousand percent certainty that I would easily and happily do my job if I was performing at venues like Cankarjev dom. So, in front of a calmer audience, without unreal hype.

But what I would like most in the world is to turn into a footballer for ten seconds and score a goal at an important match. You know why? Because that is the biggest adrenaline hit that exists. When we perform on various stages, there's mayhem around us for two hours straight. But in football, when a goal is scored, that happens in a millisecond. You go from nothing into total chaos. Everyone loses their minds. I'd love to experience that. Well, I did – much like everyone who played football in primary school. When I scored a goal for Slovan and a hundred people in the stands clapped for me, I felt like I was on Maracanã. Imagine what it would be like to experience that on the real Maracanã.

It's interesting that you highlighted a loving and stable family background. Many of the biggest pop and rock stars in the world grew up in a diametrally opposite environment. From John Lennon and Janis Joplin to Prince and Rihanna. There are actually so many of them that we can talk about a pattern.

I know, because I love to read their (auto)biographies, and I agree with your assessment that their family circumstances are fundamentally different than ours. That is always my answer to the question when someone wants to know how debauched our tours are. When I tell them that we mostly drink water and tea on the road, they just can't believe it. But it's the truth, because we've realised three things. First, we enjoy what we do immensely, and from the experiences of many musicians, we know that you can almost definitely forget about a long career if you start doing everything that we perceive as the proverbial rock'n'roll lifestyle. A band like that breaks up sooner or later, either because of frayed nerves, or exploding egos, or because of money. Second, we've all had to go to work hungover and we know very well that it's unbearable. I especially can't imagine how we could stay healthy and keep our strength and our voice if we were constantly hungover on the road. In that case, the only short-term solution is drugs, which we fortunately [knocks on wood] don't do. And third: I'm sure that you have a much better time on stage if you're aware that you are on it.

Your international breakthrough doesn't have a precedent among Slovenian musicians. Would you dare to point out where the difference is, why you made it and not for example Siddharta, who had filled Bežigrad stadium and later did not hide their international ambitions?

We have to understand that Siddharta didn't have the chance to perform at a festival like Eurovision. It's hard to understand what it means for 160 million people to watch you. That is a bizzarely huge number. All this happened in the time of social media, and we had set up a pretty good mechanism in that area even before Eurovision, and then also used it, whereas Siddharta established itself as a band in the time of analogue media. I can't even imagine how it would've been possible to break through abroad from Slovenia at that time. Because even we are already – even though some things have opened up for us very nicely and we've been joined by the right people – finding out how much of an investment going international demands. Dreams of megalomanical earnings and a luxurious life brought on by a European tour shatter quickly. Even when you start filling up venues, you stay in a kind of hustle mode. You fight. Unfortunately, the costs in the music business are so high that performing abroad is more or less just for promotion for a long time.

You're probably thinking of logistical costs?

Yes. Some of my colleagues have total misconceptions about our earnings. They think that we're literally swimming in money, while we actually earn what amounts to a normal salary.

In March next year you will have eighteen concerts. You will start in Helsinki and end in Milan. How will you travel?

With a tour bus. We've rented it twice so far: for the UK tour and for the tour around Lithuania, Poland, and Czechia. There are beds on it, so we can sleep while driving from one concert to the next. The tourbus is prohibitively expensive, you pay almost half of your royalties for it, but it's the only way for a musician with such a packed schedule to survive in the long run. Sometimes people ask me why we don't travel with a van instead, but you have to understand that we sometimes have concerts two days in a row and the venues are 800 kilometres apart. If we spent all night in an uncomfortable van, then looked for a hotel in the morning and so on, we might be able to endure it for a week, but definitely not all month.

Do you ever sleep in a hotel?

Only on free days.

Will the March tour be your most exhausting one so far?

It will definitely be one of the more exhausting ones, but I am definitely happy that we will be able to sleep on a tour bus. We haven't been on a month-long tour yet, so it's hard to predict anything, but on the Nordic tour this year we played six concerts in five days, because we had two concerts in one day in Helsinki. We didn't have a tour bus there, we flew instead. That meant that after the concert, we got to the hotel at midnight, then we had to be at the airport at three in the morning, a few hours later we were already at the new location, we napped for two hours on a couch, had a soundcheck – rinse and repeat for five days in a row.

Let's not talk only about the negative sides of tours…

Of course. I love sleeping on the bus! I fall asleep like a baby who's being taken for a walk in a stroller. I can't sleep more than nine or ten hours in my bed at home, on a tour bus I easily get twelve hours. Maybe it's because it's constantly shaking a little. The other guys also sleep very well on the road.

But the most magical thing on tours is when I visit a city for the first time just because we have a gig there. That seems unimaginable to me. To meet new people, wonderful fans, to bond as a band, experience new, funny situations, to bring home a bunch of new inside jokes and incredible gifts that fans have made themselves. [Points towards a hand-embroidered pillow in the part of the studio where they keep the gifts.]

Elite athletes often lament that it's true that they compete all over the world, but they often only see the airport, the hotel, and the sports venue.

It's similar for us. When we travel with a bus, we only see the venue. If we happen to have a free day, we walk around the city, but we definitely don't visit all kinds of tourist attractions as some people might wrongly imagine. When we go to Paris, we definitely won't go to the Louvre, and we will see the Eiffel tower through the bus window if everything goes well.

But you meet a lot of interesting people.

That's true. I find it the most fascinating if we meet fans when we don't expect them at all. In a restaurant, on a plane… When we were flying to Poland, it turned out that one of the flight attendants was a big fan of ours. She told us that she was going to three of our concerts and brought us champagne and a model of a Lot Polish Airlines plane.

I was even more surprised in Helsinki. I went to some kind of dark club that had a techno music party. Suddenly I was approached by three people, two guys and one girl, and they told me that they were our fans and that they couldn't believe that they met me in that club. I also couldn't believe that people recognised me in the middle of Helsinki. What's going on?!

In the summer, you took a step back from Instagram for a while. What brought you to that decision?

Many things. I felt creatively empty. I also, for the first time in my life, experienced the internet – not just Slovenian, but global – being completely oversaturated with me. That started negatively pressuring me and eating me up. I thought about it a lot, and the first time I asked myself whether I'd be less Bojan Cvjetićanin if I didn't have an Instagram profile, I turned it off. Immediately after that, I wrote three songs; I felt as if I had cleaned up some of the mess that had built up recently. I returned to social media some time ago; with much healthier habits than before, I think.

How do you see social media? As a space for playfulness, for promotion, part of the job, part of private life?

I think that at the time when they started killing me, I perceived them too professionally. I had a feeling that Instagram was a platform through which I had to achieve all sorts of things. Lately, I prefer to joke around more.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post! And if you repost the photos, do not crop out the photographer credit.

#bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #joker out #Spotify

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infamous-light · 5 months

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Happiness Has Two Hands

Alcina Dimitrescu x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Happiness Has Two Hands

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: While reorganizing the library, an unexpected secret of yours slipped out. Lady Dimitrescu's daughters couldn't resist the temptation to exploit this newfound knowledge.

The library, an expansive realm of knowledge and discovery, stood silent, interrupted only by the gentle rustle of pages from the book Daniela immersed herself in and the occasional crackle of the fireplace where Cassandra reclined. The scent of leather and aged parchment filled the air as you were engrossed in the meticulous task of reorganizing several books. With a careful hand, you retrieved each book, ensuring it found its rightful place among its literary companions.

As you focused on the titles and subjects of the books, Bela moved past you, her footsteps echoing softly against the carpet.

Bela, having walked past you, found herself near a shelf adorned with dusty volumes, her fingers delicately trailing the worn spines. The low light from the antique chandeliers caught the subtle glimmer in her eyes as she ran her hands over the weathered covers. She occasionally plucked a book from the shelf, inspecting it with a thoughtful gaze before returning it to its place.

Cassandra, on the other hand, lounged on a sumptuous chaise near the grand fireplace. The gentle crackling of the burning logs created a lullaby, coaxing her into a peaceful nap. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic pattern, and the warmth from the fire cast a soft glow on her features. The occasional flutter of a page turning nearby added a serene ambiance to the room.

Daniela was nestled in a cozy alcove with a particularly intriguing book in her hand. Her eyes were alight with wonder as she devoured the words on the pages. However, in her typical fashion, her attention wavered, and without warning, she closed the book with a resounding thud.

She sprang to her feet and abandoned the book on the velvet-cushioned chair. She began to wander the aisles, drawing closer to your location. Her eyes flickered over the shelves until her attention was ensnared by another book. She reached up, her fingertips tracing the detailed illustrations that adorned the cover.

As Daniela stood on her tiptoes to reach for the book, her sudden imbalance knocked over the nearby pile of books you were reorganizing. You instinctively lunged forward, your hands darting out to catch them mid-fall. Daniela, still regaining her balance, reached out to steady herself. In the process, her fingers brushed against your side in a fleeting moment of unintended contact.

The giggle that ensued broke the library's silence, drawing the attention of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. Their eyes met across the room, sharing a moment of shared amusement at the unexpected turn of events.

“Are you ticklish?” Daniela asked slyly as she turned to face you.

“N-No,” you stammered, a subtle nervousness betraying your attempt at composure. “You just caught me off guard. That’s all.”

“Caught off guard, you say?” Bela quipped, a teasing glint in her eyes as she made her way toward you. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

Cassandra, intrigued, decided to contribute to the lighthearted banter. "Well, well," she chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It seems we've uncovered a secret that you neglected to share with us. How rude.” She feigned a pout in your direction.

“Indeed, a most unbecoming secret to keep from us.” Bela tsked, her voice carrying a tone of mock disapproval.

"Quite dreadful, isn't it?" Daniela remarked with a raise of her perfectly arched eyebrow. "Our dear servant hiding such interesting secrets from us,” she continued, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the coffee table nearby. Daniela leaned forward, her eyes shining in amusement. “What other surprises do you have to hide, I wonder?" She tilted her head in mock curiosity. Her grin suggested that the discovery of your ticklish nature had sparked a newfound interest in unraveling more of your delightful secrets.

"Well, now that we know the secret, what should we do about it?" Cassandra mused, her smile growing wider.

"I believe a closer examination is in order." Bela added with a smirk.

With a shared sense of purpose, they closed the distance, their laughter resonating throughout the library. Leading the charge was Daniela, intent to catch you in her clutches. Her fingers wiggled in the air, eyes gleaming bright with excitement.

"Let's see if our diligent servant can withstand the ticklish scrutiny." Daniela declared.

“Don’t you dare.” You warned, your voice laced with a nervous edge as you backed away from them. However, the twinkle in your eye betrayed the fact that, deep down, you were ready to embrace the impending ticklish onslaught.

“Aw, come now, little one. We only want to have some fun.” Bela crooned as she approached you with measured steps, her gaze fixed on you.

Cassandra, quick on her feet, circled from the other side, her fingers poised like a dancer's pirouette. “We won’t torture you much.” She emphasized the last word with a sickeningly sweet grin.

Pausing, you took a hesitant step back. Bela, ever watchful, noticed your uncertainty, and her lips quirked upward into a knowing smile. "You can try to run but you won't get very far."

Taking your chances, you spun on your heel and sprinted, intent on making a swift exit through the library’s main door. Unfortunately, your escape attempt was short-lived. Within a few steps, a pair of hands grabbed each of your arms and pulled you back with surprising strength. The momentum sent you tumbling onto a nearby chaise lounge.

In a matter of seconds, all three girls had you pinned down. Daniela had a firm grip on your ankles, rendering any escape attempts futile. Bela straddled your hips and hovered over you with an air of amused superiority. Meanwhile, Cassandra, positioned above you, had your wrists pinned on either side of your head, leaving you effectively trapped.

As you lay on the chaise lounge, their laughter filling the air, Bela leaned in, her smug smirk widening. "I told you that you wouldn't make it far."

Bela had her fingers poised above your sides. "Shall we see how ticklish they truly are?" She teased; her fingertips were tantalizingly close to your ribs.

Panicking, you began to plead. "Anything but the tickling, please!”

Cassandra, still holding your wrists, interjected, "Begging already? We haven't even started yet."

With a swift and coordinated effort, they began their ticklish onslaught. Bela's fingers glided over your sides, provoking fits of laughter, while Daniela's touch on your ankles intensified the sensory assault. Cassandra, maintaining her hold on your wrists, watched on with a twisted sense of glee.

Bela’s fingers skittered over your sides before deciding to venture into a more ticklish area.

Wearing a sly grin, she directed her attention to your underarms. Her nimble fingers launched a tickling expedition that elicited a new surge of laughter from you.

At the same time, Cassandra seized the opportunity to explore your forearms with devious delight. Her fingers traced intricate patterns along the sensitive skin.

“Please, stop! It tickles!” You cried out in hysterics, laughter bubbling uncontrollably as their fingers continued their merciless assault.

“That’s the point.” Cassandra chuckled, observing your disheveled state.

Amid the ticklish chaos orchestrated by her sisters, Daniela decided to add her own unique touch to the playful assault. She crouched down and removed your shoes, exposing your vulnerable feet to the impending tickle onslaught. As Daniela's fingers descended over the soles of your bare feet, a new wave of laughter erupted from you.

“No, please! No!” You gasped between fits of laughter, the strain on your stomach becoming more pronounced as the tickling persisted.

“Aw, are you out of breath?” Daniela mocked with a teasing lilt. “Poor thing.”

Amidst the laughter, you couldn't help but wriggle in a feeble attempt to evade the relentless tickling. The girls, however, were quick to adapt to your movements, maintaining their grasp and intensifying the ticklish sensations.

"Trying to squirm away, are we?" Cassandra mocked as her fingers trailed up your forearms.

In an abrupt and unexpected move, Bela’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt and made contact with the sensitive skin of your lower back. You gasped at the sudden sensation, a burst of laughter escaping your lips. Her fingers traced along the curves of your lower back, and you attempted to shake her off, but your efforts were met with amusement from Bela. Chuckling softly, she reveled in the sight of you squirming under her touch, the dance of your movements adding an extra layer of joy to the impromptu tickle fest.

Taking note of your reactions, Daniela abandoned your feet and shifted her attention to the area under your knees. Her fingers slid up your calves, coming to a deliberate pause at the bend of your knees.

“Wait, no, not the knees!”

But it's too late. Daniela's fingers teased along the delicate skin under your knees, unleashing a cascade of ticklish shivers through your body. Tears streamed down your cheeks as the sensation overwhelmed you.

“You're absolutely adorable like this,” Daniela said, her words accompanied by a wide grin. “Breathless and squirming uncontrollably, it suits you.”

“They do look cute like this.” Bela commented. Her fingers, light as a feather, traced unpredictable patterns along your ribs. The action elicited a sharp yelp from you.

As the tickle torture continued, the doors of the library swung open, drawing the attention of everyone. Lady Dimitrescu stepped inside and came to a halt as her gaze fell upon you all. She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“What is happening here?” She asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Lady Dimitrescu’s heels clicked throughout the library as she approached the scene with measured poise. The corner of her lips quirked ever so slightly as she gazed down at you. You lay there amid the scattered books, breathless, with your cheeks flushed from the exertion of laughter.

“They dared to withhold a secret from us, Mother. It turns out they’re very ticklish.” Daniela said with a playful glint in her eyes.

“Oh?” Lady Dimitrescu tilted her head to the side.

Acting on a sudden mischievous whim, Daniela extended her finger and poked the sole of your foot. You squeaked at the unexpected touch.

“Please, my Lady! Help me!” You pleaded, the desperation in your voice reaching a high note.

A low, melodic chuckle rumbled from Lady Dimitrescu. She regarded you with an amused yet contemplative expression. To the surprise of everyone, she reached down and allowed the tips of her fingers to graze the side of your ribs. The gentle touch prompted an immediate eruption of giggles from you.

“No! Please!”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled. “I never realized you had a ticklish side, my dear. Though, I must admit, finding this out has been rather entertaining.”

“You’re evil.” You playfully accused while catching your breath.

“I know.” She said with a self-assured smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on, girls. Release them. I believe you’ve tortured them enough.”

With that, they reluctantly relinquished their grip, freeing you from the clutches of their ticklish assault. They all gave you a grin as they left, each one giving you a lingering promise to continue the encounter. As they sauntered out of the room, their laughter lingered like a melodic echo, fading away.

A gentle touch on your shoulder interrupted your trance, drawing you back to the present moment.

“I believe it’s my turn to indulge in a bit of playful torment.” Lady Dimitrescu announced with a smirk.

As her words hung in the air, a blush crept up your cheeks and you couldn’t help but gulp at the prospect of being under her mercy.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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betterthanapokeintheeye · 8 months

Text

Rob Wilkins - In Bath talking about Terry Pratchett, A Stroke of the Pen

Rob Wilkins will be in Bath talking about, and signing the book, Terry Pratchett: A Stroke of the Pen

Date: Wed 22nd November 2023 Doors Open 7pm

Location: Topping & Company Booksellers of Bath, York Street, Bath, Somerset BA1 1NG

Rob Wilkins, Pratchett’s former assistant, friend, head of the Pratchett literary estate & author of Terry Pratchett: A Life With Footnotes joins the team at the shop to talk on A Stroke of the Pen: the recently rediscovered short stories by Terry Pratchett.

The book is a truly unmissable, beautifully illustrated collection of unearthed stories from the pen of Sir Terry Pratchett: award-winning and bestselling author, and creator of the phenomenally successful Discworld series. It contains twenty early and once-lost short stories by one of the world's best loved authors, each accompanied by exquisite original woodcut illustrations.

These are rediscovered tales that Pratchett wrote under a pseudonym for newspapers during the 1970s and 1980s. Whilst none are set in the Discworld, they hint towards the world he would go on to create, containing all of his trademark wit, satirical wisdom and fantastic imagination.

Tickets available from https://www.toppingbooks.co.uk/events/bath/rob-wilkins-for-terry-pratchetts-a-stroke-of-the-pen-2023/

#terry pratchett #books #rob wilkins #discworld #not discworld #A stroke of the pen #book event

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jasontoddsdarling · 3 months

Text

can we fuck in the bathroom?

— pairing: jason todd x female reader

— words: 1,1k

— tags: smut, bathroom sex, oral sex (male receiving), doggy style, rough sex, creampie

— summary: You suggest Jason something you both have never done. The title speaks for itself.

"Jason.”

“Yes, beloved?” Jason answers you, but he is immersed in his evening read, a literary fiction title you recommended him last month.

“Can we fuck in the bathroom?"

Jason drops the book he's reading, all of his attention to you. "What?"

You pout. "Can a girl not suggest her husband to fuck her in the bathroom?"

"No, princess. I mean of course you can. Just why are you so suddenly… suggesting it?"

"Nothing. I just want us to do it. We have never done it there!"

"Oh right...."

Jason begins to have his pondering look.

That's all he says. For thirty seconds long, you count.

You're getting kind of flustered—you brave yourself up, bringing it up to him about an unusual place (for the two of you at least) to have sex outside of the bedroom, but you chalk it up with bored expression. And impatient. It's evening already, for God's sake. Ended up fucking in the bathroom or not, you're going to have to shower anyway.

"If you don't want to, I will have to shower alone.” You walk away. “I might play with myself, though."

"Don't you dare, princess." Jason growls.

You giggle inside. That last line's merely you being a tease, but Jason's actually taking your bait. You're getting the reaction out of him.

"Then come and get me."

You walk away to the direction of you two's bedroom—where your bathroom is located, but not without sending him a sultry gaze.

That's how you end up like this.

Knees on the cold tiles on the bathroom floor, your pretty lips around his cock. His hand is on the back of your head holding your wavy raven black hair into a makeshift ponytail.

You try to suppress your gag reflex, sucking him as much as you can. He's not small or average by any means. His cock is hot and hard with considerable girth and length that's not a match for your small mouth.

But you manage to suck three fourths of him in. He hit the back of your throat. You can feel your tears on your waterline, sliding down your cheeks.

"That's it. Fuck. Just like that, princess."

He reaches with his other hand to caress your face and swipe your fallen tears.

You know he's about to cum when his breath is very labored.

You start to service him more eagerly, not trying to suck him as much as you can anymore but more about the speed and intensity of your sucking. His length that cannot fit inside your mouth is getting stroked with your hands, which you need both of them to accommodate his girth.

"Fuck. Fucking hell, princess."

He immediately removes his hand on your hair and his cock from inside your warm mouth.

You pout, confused, but then he holds you by your upper arms to get you up.

He spins you around, facing yourself with your bathtub. His hands push your back to bend down on the bathtub lip, your cute ass up. You can feel the heat of his length on your puffy pussy lips.

Jason doesn't even need to wet it anymore with your slick because you already did a great job with your lips and mouth. When you turn your head around, he holds his cock with his hand—his other's tight on your waist. He motions you to turn your head and not facing him.

Jason shoves his cock inside your cunt.

You gasp at the intrusion and the delicious stretch.

Jason groans behind you.

He plows you like there's no tomorrow, dragging you back and forth with his hand, making a rhythm with the thrust of his cock. His pelvis claps with your ass and the back of your thighs, his full and drawn tight balls hitting your clit.

You can only take it all like a good girl because his grip on your waist is strong, you don't even want to attempt to fuck yourself back on his cock.

"You feel so damn good, princess. So tight and sucking me crazy, fuck."

You moan at his praise.

He feels so damn good too. Too good in fact. His massive cock hitting all the right spots on the walls of your cunt. You feel like you're closer and closer to your orgasm, and he hasn't yet touched your clit with the rough pads of his fingers that's always finished you into the big O.

When he hits your G-Spot, you let out your whiniest mixture of moan and scream you've ever known.

"Right there, yeah, princess?"

You can only nod weakly.

Jason draps his weight on you, the front of his massive body with all of his strong and defined abdominal muscles glory against your back. His hands are on your tits, encompassing your entire—what he dubbed to you as—perfect sized tits under his palm, your peaked nipples in between his middle and ring fingers.

He fastens the pace of his fucking. It's now all rough and filthy. Your moan reverberates in the bathroom, his groan alongside it.

Before you know it, stars explode behind your eyelids. You can hear someone's scream, but you don't know whose. You feel like you're floating on the soft cloud that brings you up and up and up to the far skies. Everything is muted and static noise in your head.

It's few seconds later after the fog in your head has dissipated a bit that you realize that: 1) you've had your orgasm, 2) that scream was yours because you orgasmed—vaginal orgasm, without any stimulation on your clit, and 3) Jason's still fucking you amidst your high.

"That's so hot, princess."

Jason chuckles between his fucking. You feel a bit overstimulated but it's not something that you cannot handle. Especially after hearing the hitch on Jason's breath.

He's very very close.

You tighten your vaginal muscles voluntarily.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. You're a minx, aren't you?" Jason chuckles tantalizingly.

You know he loves it, because the next second he roughly plows into the heat of your cunt. His arms strongly wrapped under your tits like his last lifeline that tethered him to you. "Take it. Take it all, princess."

You moan wantonly when he's coming inside of you. His warm thick cum paints your vaginal walls and it makes you feel dizzy. Your puffy tight cunt flutters around his girth, trying to keep it all inside.

Jason, slowly coming back from his high, is nuzzling your neck and peppering kisses on it and your jaw. He's still inside of you, looking at how he stuffs you to the brim and opens your puffy lips apart to reveal how tight you are gripping him.

"I think we should do this more often, don't you think, pretty girl? Also, we're not done yet."

mariea's note: i need him in my mouth so bad i had to write this ☹️

#i need him carnally #jason todd x reader #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #mariea's fics #mariea's writing #mariea's works

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yzzart · 1 year

Text

— Blessed oath.

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: after so many years apart, isolated, Aemond decides to come to you.

warnings: incest, explicit language, explicit words

word count: 3.694!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

The prince, who was recognized for his fearsome posture and his intimidating eye patch and having the blood of blood coursing through his veins, was aware of the danger and possible bloody war that he could face along his way, but, he was aware that could create a war to woo his dear sweet niece.

There were so many unhappy years, which Aemond described as living proof of hell, apart and with the absence of the warmth of bodies together crying out for love. — Even though the reason was completely involving Aemond, it stabbed his sister's decision.

He remembers the vague words he uttered to his sister to leave his daughter beside him and her father, your dear grandfather; Viserys, but, obviously, she denied the defiant request. — And with so much reason, Aemond used this one to complete all his anger and hatred for Rhaenyra.

The good gods, those who all begged for blessing and those who accompanied the Targeryens, knew that Aemond would kill anyone including his own sister to have his sweet niece at his side. — Not to mention his biggest enemy, his uncle; Daemon. That the one-eyed prince was informally bought by some of the outskirts of the red fortress and some mediocre kingdoms.

Your father, the rebel prince, would have Aemond's head if he only knew he'd come near you. — And you know better than anyone that he could do it. — And living with a situation as disturbed and suffocating as this was living proof of hell. — But, nothing was more suffocating than not feeling the heat of your lover's body next to yours.

The two of you were like two dragons living in conflict with the burning and pure feeling of passion, causing your souls to unite into one. — Two dragons, one souls. That was the motto.

And for all those years, damned years, Aemond's desire for you grew every single day. And he learned to connect with that feeling so hungry. — During his privileged training as a prince, he showed more vigor and agility. — A brute form was being ignited in that one-eyed youth's chest.

No one dared question where that anger or anonymous feeling of the king's youngest son came from, they just admired with surprised eyes and a few whispers. — It didn't matter to Aemond. In fact, it never even bothered him.

The only thing he really cared about, and for a few moments, was when your name was uttered from the mouths of servants and a few informants who kept their jobs while whispering. — It was like a wake-up call for Aemond. Like a dog's ears when an unhappy noise sounded all around.

But, during those sweltering years, the young prince recognized and devised a sneaky and dangerous way to see his beloved niece. — A way that, even he himself was aware of and knowledge he could miss more than his other eye.

Aemond had no visual knowledge of Dragonstone, he never even had an opportunity to witness the dragons' location. However, he had a literary knowledge of the place. — Using the old library, which was abandoned by most of his family, Aemond began to read all the books that contained information about the isolated island.

Each page, each writing made with embers and black pigment ink, the one-eyed man read and admired the facts that his ancestors and distant relatives brought him. — Aemond didn't care to miss a word that time.

The idea of invading, discreetly and boldly, the region that was dominated by his sister and, perhaps with little chance of success, Aemond planned to consider the action. Being the rider of the biggest dragon that this miserable world had ever seen was a great and superior advantage, but at the same time it could be a disadvantage. — The gods agreed with the thought.

The focus of that bold prince's mind was only for you. There was nothing else in the moment, in the second and world, that could remove your image from Aemond's closed mind. — Even if that certain invasion went wrong, he would be satisfied to know that he would die when he was ready to see you again.

Well, he would die for you and you for him.

That night, which by some mixed and intrusive ears from the vicinity of the red keep; they said the moon was brighter than usual and the wind was fighting with itself. — It seemed like a kind of warning that was ignored by most.

The cover made of pure leather, unlike the dark color palette Aemond usually uses, was a brownish color; like the rebellious earth that was trampled by the black boots of the one-eyed youth. — Aemond's steps were wild, he was desperate to meet his dragon and, like a good mother's son, he prayed to the gods that everything that had been planned would work out.

Unlike the other dragons, aka those of his brothers, who were sheltered and protected in the dragon pit, Vhagar was accommodated at the back of the fortress. Not just the fact that her size bothered half that space, but Aemond cared and cared for his dragon enough to want to keep her close enough. — And no one would dare to scold or tell him to move it.

The huge, intimidating dragon rested, its scaly, age-wrinkled wings spread out close together on the ground. — Taking up most of it. — Aemond, her young rider, didn't need to warn her that he was coming or even call Vhagar's attention; for with just his typical scent, the dragon sensed his presence.

Lifting his head, which carries with it a smoke of sand, Vhagar follows the short and fast walk that her rider takes to her.

"īlon emagon nykeā dīnagon naejot jikagon, hāedar." (We have a place to go, girl.) — He uttered with a whisper, even though there was no one, not a soul, near that region.

The old dragon didn't restrain himself from making any expressions or even a questioning noise at her rider's strange action, just assented by moving enough for Aemond to get onto her rough, scaly back. — During the movement of Vhagar's heavy body, some fine and coarse grains of white sand were scattered on the Targaryen's cloak.

With his hands trapped around the thick and strong ropes of the dragon's cell, Aemond had everything to fly to the isolated region where his beloved niece was sheltered. — The feeling of butterflies in his stomach agonized the boy again but this time it was because he had in mind that he would hear your voice and see you.

Aemond could finally find his peace again. After so many years, years with the taste of hell, the anguish and bitter pain of missing each other would end.

"Sōvegon, Vhagar." (Fly, Vhagar.) — An order with a heightened tone of certainty and confidence was declared to the dragon. Aemond took a deep breath, inhaling the salty smell of the sea and reassured himself that he would soon be inhaling the natural scent of your body.

Vhagar roared, that frightening noise could have woken up anyone who was close to the region where the dragon was accommodated before, as a way of agreeing with the one-eyed request. — She would never disagree with her rider's request.

The night was colder than usual for you. The waves were crashing so rough and hard against each other, it looked like they were in some kind of fight; wanting to distance but it was impossible. — Like your family at times, you thought

"Family". Funny how those rebellious waves reminded him of the rebellious rifts that had run between your family and your grandfather's family, or as he was mediocrely known, King Viserys. — And there was a certain person among those waves who always captivated your attention and ever since your passion.

Your uncle. Your goddamn uncle and your goddamn love.

Even with so many intrigues, differences and bitterness among your families; you and Aemond never let each other be shaken or even extinguished the flaming flame of dragon passion that existed in you two. — You were living proof of a dragon's true flame.

Perhaps, thinking about a person you hadn't seen for so long was a foolish and painful action. It was painful indeed, but when Aemond dominated your thoughts, your mind, it made your body so warm and reassuring. — That damned man was your anchor, your passion.

Your skin tingled, calling your attention and making you distance yourself from the thoughts that, little by little, were dominated by the image of Aemond. — But, that shiver was not caused by the freezing and strong breeze of the winds coming from the sea; there was only one culprit and you knew who it was.

Closing the window and heading for your beautifully crafted and sewn blankets sounded like a good idea and highly recommended. — The thought of getting a possible disease due to coldness was not so pleasant and would scare your mother. - But, an image, somewhat peculiar and dark, caught the attention of your eyes far back and among the clouds.

Flying among the dark sky, which belonged to the night, along with some accumulated and loose clouds; it could only be a destined dragon, aimless and didn't know which region it was heading towards. — Or, some intruder, perhaps?

A thousand questions and concerns ran through your head, and they all scared you somehow.

The dragon's image was slowly approaching and soon, you recognized that creature, destined for the Targaryens and sharing the same blood and life force. — The greenish and heavy scales, together with the wrinkled wings and of a surreal size that this unfortunate world could admire and judge, flew to a point of Dragonstone.

Vhagar wasn't just a creature that carried on her back the title and recognition of being the greatest dragon in the world at that time; she was aware of the entire cycle of conquest of your ancestors and distant relatives. — She was one of the prides of the dragon's house.

However, it wasn't just that dragon that acclaimed, called your attention; wisps of the purest color of white were appearing in accordance with the movement of the wind and the swiftness of Vhagar's flight. — It was him.

"Aemond…" — You whispered incredulously and not wanting to believe what was possibly happening. A part of you feared, did not accept that your uncle, hated and received with so much bitterness by your parents and brothers, was risking himself for you.

He was risking himself to see you. All the pain, lack of body heat and suffering, which were accumulated during all the years of isolation that your family agreed to do, made him reach that point.

May the good gods be on your side, you mentally wished.

Leaning against the huge window, the icy feel of the rocks that complimented that opening overwhelmed her bare feet. — You didn't even think about putting something on, an incompetent but desperate action. — When finally crossing the ends of your long white nightgown they got wet but that didn't make you lose your focus.

Your chambers were one of the few that had a space, like a small worthless balcony, but that gave a small path to some mountains that were around the castle. It was a bit risky, and you never dared use it for anything useful or escape anything, but everything had its first time and that was it.

The path was going to be long, and you knew you needed to be quick and agile; then, you saw a stone block, big enough for you to use as a support and climb to the small wall that opened to the gigantic field with mountains of different sizes. — It felt like the good gods were on your side and doing everything for you to finally meet your lover.

Your long-awaited lover.

The pure, fresh and rough feel of the greenish grass, but with the darkness of the night leaving it with a stronger, darker look and pigment, it invaded the soles of her feet. It was kind of agonizing, you never had the opportunity to let loose in the middle of the grass, so it was kind of a new thing at the time. — It tasted like freedom but that must have been influenced by Aemond's appearance.

Returning to your focus, trying not to get distracted, you were nervous, anxious and a little afraid of what was to come; for the first time, you were feeling mixed feelings. — Your eyes traveled through the dark skies trying to spot the dragon and its rider, and praying that they had already landed on the ground and not drawing attention or any alert around the castle.

And there it was in its complex size along with the details of green and black tones, Vhagar could take over the entire tip of the isolated island and she would take comfort in the region. — The young rider, who was wearing a garment made entirely of the purest leather and very well sewn, wanted to get out of the saddle as quickly as possible.

You ran, holding a small part of your dress, which was probably dirty from the grass. Your heart was racing, it felt like at any moment it would leap out of your mouth and your teeth were dragging, uncontrollably biting your soft lips. — A metallic aftertaste was already starting to invade your palate.

Vhagar let out a snarl, which sounded like just a thick, rough timber from her throat, she had it in her mind where she was. — The gods reminded her of some situations that she, along with her previous riders, got involved and were part of several pages of the conquests and battles of the Targaryens.

The wind was getting stronger and your heart was beating faster than normal and abnormal; in the eyes of other people it was a worrying thing, it could cause a brief death, but you didn't care about that. — You didn't care at all.

He was there. After so many years, so many lonely and bitter moons; a perverse and cruel isolation for your heart. You were forced to agree and be taken to that isolated island, which included a castle, and go through these times alone and without the comfort, warmth and love of your dear uncle. — Who with obvious reasons was hated with every thread of blood by your parents.

Aemond was back for you.

With only a small distance from the dragon, enough for it to notice your presence, you couldn't move; not even to interrupt the drastic movements that the dress proposed because of the wind. — Your body did not mentally recognize your orders to move. — But, your eyes roamed over the huge old dragon that stood before you. Vhagar looked more tired but she had no desire or desire to end her battle, her life. Her tired and intimidating eyes admired you.

"kiip kesīr se ubeī ñuha udrāzma, vhagar." (Keep here and obey my command, Vhagar.) — That voice echoed in your ears, causing the sound of crashing waves to be muted around him. Aemond's voice was so different, of course because of his growth and, mainly, maturity. — Everything about Aemond had changed except the love he felt for you.

The dragon obeyed the order and to signal she understood, Vhagar let out a low growl; if you could consider that as low.

You watched, but the gods agree you were admiring, every move Aemond made to remove himself from his dragon's leather saddle. It didn't take that long after all; he was used to it by now, but for you it took forever. — You were desperate, hungry and yearning for that man's touch. The touch you've waited so long for.

The pure leather boots touched the ground, the sound of grass being trampled reached your ears. With small steps, the one-eyed prince, covered with his cape but it was possible to identify the black dress, also made of leather, through a small breach. — Aemond was in front of you.

His eye patch caught your attention but not in a bad or perverse way but charmingly. — That piece that protected the absence of his eye was mesmerizing.

"issa jorrāelagon." (My dear.) — Those were the first words that were uttered from the eldest's slender and sharp lips; the very words you've been waiting all this hellish time to hear again. — Every time, every morning and night, Aemond made a point of calling you that.

A raw and, at the same time, delicate mixture of feelings was dominating your control, dominating you. Your vision was starting to get blurry, on account of the tears that threatened to fall down your brave face. — The gods weren't deceiving you, he really was there.

After tasting for so many years the taste of isolation, the true taste of hell after being separated from your lover; finally, you have achieved peace. — Your divine peace that you expected so much. — You lost count how many times you cried mercilessly begging for the young man's touch, attention and affection.

"Aemond." — Somehow you couldn't form a simple sentence, or put mediocre words together; it was impossible for you. The only thing on your mind was Aemond and nothing else.

However, your body responded with strength and short and anxious steps were forwarded towards the one-eyed prince. Your feet once again felt the living, damp grass and the feeling of cold dominated that region of your body once again that night. — Watching your approach carefully, Aemond lowered the hood of his cloak. It was no longer useful to use that piece of clothing, it was already considered useless by the prince.

When you got close to Aemond, with only a miserable little distance making you feel the elder's quick and restless breathing, you didn't lose a second to admire him. — His serious face, there were small and weak scars and some cuts in the region and you were sure you would question him about; then, you directed your hand towards the left side of his face.

A caress, an affection so simple in the eyes of certain people but for Aemond it was as if an angel could be touching him and making everything around him disappear. — And you were his angel. — Aemond rested his gloved hand on top of your and stroked it as a way of reciprocating.

"I missed you so much." — The first formed and conscious words you managed to direct to your uncle. Your eyes, which had previously been roaming over the prince's cold face, were now admiring his only existing eye and Aemond was focused on any sound that came out of your mouth, he was aware of any movement you made. — "I missed you so much, Aemond."

In a quick moment, in the blink of an eye, Aemond brought his lips together with yours. — The softness and a typical sweet taste invaded a part of the one-eyed man's palate and the only culprit of that was you, and he felt he was in a place created by the good gods; it felt like the taste of paradise. — Aemond's thin, sharp lips were battling your but in the end they managed to come together like a dance step.

The kiss was pure desire and passion. — The desire that was guarded with seven keys and covered with dragon flames. — Aemond's tongue was determined to fight for space, fearing dominance, but your tongue was also with the same plans.

It was like a dance. — A dance of dragons. — Two dragons hungry for desire, to feel each other and are finally getting what they craved and needed most in that miserable life.

The taste of Aemond's lips was a passionate, mesmerizing acid to taste. You could spend hours and hours enjoying your lover's kiss and never, under any circumstances, get sick or tired. — You were obsessed, and wanting to demand more and more; such a needy thought.

Aemond's hand, which had previously been supporting hers, went to the back of your neck; intensifying the kiss even more. You couldn't stop the shiver and he modestly felt it along with the tremor in your body. A smile, a little thin and malicious, crossed Aemond's mouth during the kiss. — He knew right away how needy you were.

Suddenly you forgot about everything around you. — Your parents, your brothers possibly falling asleep, maybe there were guards roaming the region, everything; nothing else interested you but Aemond's warmth, touch and presence.

When you felt the beginning of shortness of breath, your lips distanced from Aemond's, and it left a feeling of emptiness in you at that moment. — A feeling of abandonment. — Looking down at the young man's thin mouth, you realize how red and irresistible it was but, in fact, you needed to control yourself.

"I missed you too, my sweet niece." — Aemond whispered, still feeling the feel of your lips against his. He was drunk on you and wanted to go deeper into that sea with you. — "And i came back for you and i don't intend to let them separate you from me again." — He wasn't lying or trying to play with you; so you wouldn't feel worry or fear of him slipping out of your sight again. Aemond would never commit such a painful act to you.

They managed to separate you from Aemond, they committed one of the worst acts even the gods could witness. — When trying to separate or burn a dragon's flame, they would have the conscience that they would have return and revenge.

But, the good gods already had a hellish vision of what could happen; they were dragons fighting among themselves. — The same blood, the same will to win and conquer, and the same fire and no one could interfere with it, only themselves.

"I will officially make you mine in front of them and by their hands, my love." — The one-eyed man pressed your forehead against his. — "bisa iksos daor sepār nykeā kivio, yn nykeā bêesîd uati." (This is not just a promise, but a blessed oath.)

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