#I like to look at through a lens of the music and its tone because that just appeals to me more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

colorsunimaginable · 7 months

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the spare // chapter sixty-six // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary:

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 4.1k warnings for this chapter: none, but Christmas??? if that triggers you at all

my lovely beta reader 💕 banner credit @cafekitsune

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Sixty-Six:

Christmas day starts just like any other winter day here at the cottage. Thomus and I keep each other warm under the covers at night, so in the morning the first thing I do is start the fire in the living room. Then it’s over to the kitchen to make my family’s usual Christmas day breakfast of cinnamon rolls, although I have to make them from scratch because the Wizarding World has yet to discover the magic of canned dough. I put on a Christmas compilation record, hoping it’ll put me in the holiday mood.

Thomus gets up later than I do, and he finds me shoving cookies into little Christmas themed plastic gift bags I’d found in a drawer when I first tore through the kitchen. Cookies into one bag with the cherry pie bar in one of its own, both twist-tied together.

He pours himself some coffee and rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he studies my spread. “How many of those are you making?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I only mean there’s not that many of us.”

I look down as I finish bag number 7. I’m only half way done. “Something tells me you’re forgetting the House Elves under your quote unquote ‘employ’,” I say. “I don’t want to leave them out.”

He sits down at the table, sliding his mug into the only available space. “You have a real knack for making me feel like a self-absorbed git.”

I shrug. “That, my friend, is empathy, probably laced with a bit of guilt, too.”

He snorts softly and shakes his head, raising his mug to his lips. “And a Happy Christmas to you, too.”

I give a tight-lipped smile, still not actually feeling very happy today - despite the music. “Happy Christmas.”

“Did you open your gift?” he asks, and that makes me pause.

“What gift?”

Thomus gets up from the table and brings back the box he’d placed next to the tree last night. As he hands it to me, I notice my name scribbled in a corner. I lift away the lid and pull back some tissue paper to reveal an Olympus OM-1 film camera. It’s bright and shiny, the body small in comparison to its lens.

I slowly run a finger over the silver plating and glance up at him shyly. He's patiently watching me, waiting for a response, and I'm anxious because I'm not quite sure how to respond. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

“Don’t be,” he says quickly, seeming genuine. “There isn’t much you could give me.” He nabs my favorite cookie, popping it into his mouth, and groaning after a few chews. “Actually you should make me a batch of these.”

I can’t help but let out a small smile. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He stretches an arm to the island counter, where the cinnamon rolls are, and plucks one off the plate. “I got an owl from Astor this morning. He’s invited us to a gathering tomorrow.”

“A gathering?”

Thomus nods, taking a bite. “You know, for Christmas. A small one.”

I internally sigh. “I’m assuming he wants me to serve?”

“No, actually. According to his letter, you’re a regular guest.”

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief and my tone doesn’t betray any actual excitement. “How nice.”

~*~

When I get ready for Christmas dinner at the Manor, I make sure to cover the dark veiny lines around my eyes with foundation underneath my winged eyeliner. Thomus said he told Narcissa that I had my sight and voice again, but I’m not sure how much truth she actually has.

I dress in a burgundy blouse with an open black sweater and meet Thomus on the landing. He’s wearing a black suit jacket with a dark green sweater underneath. I don’t resist my urge to reach out and touch the fabric. It’s soft and feels so good on his chest, especially when I snake my arms under his jacket and press my cheek to it in a hug. His arms go around my shoulders and squeeze me against him. I breathe in his apt smell of pine and cedar.

I don’t feel so alone when I’m hugging him, listening to him breathe and his heartbeat steadily under my ear.

“Darling?” he murmurs after an admittedly very long moment.

“Hm?” I hum without moving an inch.

“Narcissa doesn’t easily forgive tardiness.”

I sigh, letting out the faintest whine before pulling away. “Okay.”

Before we leave, I dig through my backpack for my little bag of jewelry. It mostly holds my stretchy plastic chokers, but I pull out a silver locket. It’s small and oval with a floral design etched onto the front. Thomus doesn’t question me about it as he watches me put it on.

When we step into the Manor, I feel a little awkward with the basket full of Christmas treats. I’ve never been good at gift-giving. My anxiety tends to tell me that whatever gift I’ve thought of, won’t be good enough. But those thoughts vanish when we meet Narcissa in a small dining room. After a hug in greeting, her face lights up when I give her a bag of the baked goods.

“Thank you, dear,” she gushes. “You baked these yourself? They look delicious.”

I pull another out and set it on the table for Hermione. “I’m going to visit the kitchen.” I don’t look at either of them and book it out the door before Thomus can protest. I find the elves hard at work, busy completing the finishing touches for our dinner.

“Miss!” Mippy says, bouncing over to me in the doorway. “Happy Christmas, Miss!”

I smile down at her and hold up the basket. “Happy Christmas to you, too, Mippy. I baked for you guys.”

Mippy lets out a delirious squeal and her voice shakes like she’s going to cry. “M-miss b-aked for M-mippy? And Remmy? And -”

“Yes,” I blush, a bit flustered by such a reaction as I place the basket on their table. “There’s a bag for everyone.”

Murmurs of excitement burst around the room and Mippy’s the loudest of them all. “Miss is so kind and generous and thoughtful -”

“I hope you enjoy them,” I say quickly, and send a smile to the room without making too much eye contact. “See y’all later.”

Hermione's arrived when I return to the dining room and we pull each other into a big hug.

Dinner is an almost somber affair. Thomus and I sit next to each other, while Hermione is across from me and Narcissa is at the end of the table. Not for the first time, I can tell Narcissa’s putting on a smile for us and as I eye her, I notice her clothes fit a little looser than they had the last time I saw her.

“Have you heard from Draco at all?” I ask her, hoping it’s not too sensitive of a topic. Immediately her face saddens and I regret ever speaking.

She answers me anyway. “The last correspondence I received from him personally was to inform me he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. The Dark Lord anticipates an attack on Zurich in the new year, so he and a select few have been asked to remain on guard.”

“I’m sorry he can’t be here,” I say. “It must be really hard without both of them.”

“I do miss them terribly,” she says, a tear beading in her eye. “However -” She reaches over and grabs my hand from my lap and covers Hermione’s on her other side. “I’m grateful to have all of you here.”

I squeeze her hand in return, nodding. “It’s a nice little… distraction,” I say, and speaking of… “Thomus told me you’re planning a New Year’s Eve party?”

This new topic launches both her and Thomus into a tangent, the kind that feels as if I’ve just popped in during the middle of a conversation. There’s something about a particular pureblood seamstress being booked up, or the elves having trouble procuring ingredients for certain dishes that before the war would have been readily available. Then there’s the matter of security - of which Thomus is taking the lead. Apparently with so many Death Eaters and their ‘elite’ society in one place, guests have expressed concerns about being vulnerable to an attack. Hermione and I sit in silence, absorbing all of this information.

“Thankfully we don’t have to secure the perimeter for the Lots,” Thomus comments. “I don’t even want to think about the logistics for that feat. We only have you two to worry about that night.”

I nearly choke on my apple cider. “I’m going?” Then I look at Hermione and gesture between us. “We’re going?”

When I bring my eyes to Thomus, he looks hesitant. “Granger is yes,” he says. “We believe it best to have her out in plain view where we can keep an eye on her.”

I nod. “Okay, yeah, sure, but what does that have to do with me?”

“On that particular issue, Thomus and I disagree,” Narcissa says, giving him a stern look. “But the issue is tabled for now, especially on Christmas.”

“If it makes a difference, I don’t think I’d like to go,” I say with an apology on my face. “I’m sure it’s going to be very grand, but if I have the option…” I shake my head.

Narcissa smiles at me and lifts her gaze to Thomus. “I believe you have your answer.”

My eyes turn to Thomus as well, curious. He meets them briefly before dropping them down to his dinner plate. His mouth is turned down in a sour expression before a muscle in his jaw ticks and the look is gone. Why does he want me to go?

I take another sip of my drink, desperately wishing it was spiked with something.

“That’s a beautiful necklace,” Narcissa says and my eyes bounce up to Hermione before I realize she’s talking to me. “Is it a locket?”

Reflexively my fingers go up to the locket, feeling the texture of the design. I give a soft smile and nod. “A friend of mine gave it to me a few years back.” My other hand comes up to pry it open, careful not to touch the tiny portraits inside. “It’s a picture of that friend and my family.”

“That’s lovely,” Narcissa murmurs when I press it closed with a little snap.

My throat feels tight and I try to swallow around the lump in it. “Yeah,” I croak, my breaths suddenly shaky and loud. I speak softly to hide the emotion in my voice. “Sorry.”

“Oh, you have nothing to apologize for, dear,” she says. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen them, I take it?”

I nod and sniffle. “Yeah, about… three years, I think.” I force myself to take a steady deep breath and plaster a smile on my face. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. You know how it is.”

She nods, looking ready to ask more, but I interject with, “Is there still a lot to do for the party?”

If she can tell I purposefully changed the subject, she doesn’t show it. Narcissa launches into a whole list of tasks she and Thomus have left. I try to focus on what she says, but if I’m being honest, it just goes in one ear and out the other.

While she speaks, Thomus slides his hand over to the one in my lap. His hand is a bit cold and I turn my palm up to clasp his fingers between mine.

~*~

After dinner, we walk back out to the main hall. Thomus and Narcissa are discussing their immediate plans for the Gala while Hermione and I trail behind them. I loop my arm under hers and slow our pace.

“How’s your research been going?” I ask, my voice low.

Her brown eyes are alight with excitement. “I believe I’ve cracked it.”

I squeeze her arm, angling my body towards her. “Really? That’s awesome.”

“I’m ready to run tests, only…” she looks down, then up at Narcissa and Thomus, ensuring they’re paying us no attention, before leaning in to whisper, “Would you happen to have your wand?”

Regret rises from my belly and spreads all over my face. “No, I don’t.”

She sighs, disappointed. I am, too. “I saw you had your necklace, so I’d hoped -”

“I know,” I murmur. “I thought he’d go through my bag, so I left it in my vault. I didn’t think I’d need it.”

Hermione tilts her head. “Does he know your necklace is a…?”

I shake my head.

“So was it you or Thomus who broke the curse?”

“Well, technically it’s not broken,” I explain as we come to our destination. I keep her close and whisper. “Its effects are just being suppressed by my magic. The suppression potions don’t work on me anymore.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? That would -”

“Alder, let’s go,” Thomus calls from across the room. “We have one more stop to make.”

I sigh heavily and give him a look, he’s standing by the front door. “Really? On Christmas?”

“Especially,” he snaps. “Let’s go.”

I pull Hermione into a hug. “We’ll figure it out, okay?’

She nods and hugs me back before we let go. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

I rush through a goodbye to Narcissa, feeling pressured as Thomus stands with his hands in his pockets.

We get outside and I shiver, not prepared for the frigid air. “You couldn’t have told me we were going somewhere else? I don’t have a jacket.”

It’s dark out, so I don’t see him pull out his wand and summon his cloak. He settles it around my shoulders and I pause, knowing he’s going to expect to fasten the clasp himself as he usually does.

“It’s like I have you trained,” he remarks once he finishes and pulls the hood over my head.

“Well, what can I say? You’re getting predictable,” I tease.

Thomus chuckles as his palms encase my cheeks, holding me still as his mouth descends on mine. His quick kiss tastes of the coffee he had with our pumpkin pie dessert.

~*~

Thomus Apparates us to a secluded woodsy spot behind a playground. It’s snowing here and there’s already a blanket of it covering the ground. With the snow and street lamps, it’s not quite as dark as the Manor. Thomus takes my hand and guides me down a residential street that branches off with rows and rows of identical townhomes. When I think of searching for a street name, in an attempt to discern where we are, the only one I see is Privet Drive - which tells me nothing.

He pauses under a street lamp with a bus stop and a phone booth. It’s not the classic London version, but a more modern design with unpainted metal and long window panes.

“I assume you know how to operate one of these,” he says, his hand disappearing into his pocket. He pulls out a small leather pouch and places it in my hand.

“The bus stop?” I ask incredulously.

His hand comes up to the back of my elbow as he steers me towards the booth. “No, the telephone.”

My heart begins to race. “W-what? Why?”

He reaches for the handle of the collapsible door and pushes it aside. “To call home.”

I turn to face him, nearly panting with shock. “What?”

“Consider it a Christmas gift,” he says. I feel his hand at my back, urging me inside, but I plant my feet.

“Just like that?” I ask. “No conditions?”

“I assume you know the obvious one.” He gives me a stern look, meeting eyes. “Don’t give any hints or clues about your… reality.”

I press my lips together and nod, trying not to panic about what I’m even going to say.

I step inside the booth and Thomus closes the door, leaving it open a few inches as he leans against the frame, hands tucked into his pockets.

With shaking fingers, I start pulling out the No-Maj coins from the pouch he handed me. Calls to the US are expensive, so I put in every single one. I pick up the handset and press the cold plastic to my ear, listening to the slightly deeper dial tone. I’ve only had to do this once, when I first arrived and my phone didn’t work.

With a deep breath, I punch in the numbers and wait.

It rings and rings. My eyes wander around the booth, taking in the area code poster and emergency numbers, some call for a good time markings up the metal frame. I should’ve known they won’t pick up the phone for a number they don’t recognize.

But then there’s a click and I hear my mother’s voice. “Melisa?”

My throat is tight again and I force myself to breathe out. “Hi, Mom.”

“I wondered who else could be calling today - already had a chat with your Aunt Susan, and with grandma passing away last year - as soon as it said Surrey, I knew,” she says. Fat tears spring to my eyes just listening to her talk, hearing her voice. I put my hand over the receiver as I fight for control over my sobs. “Haven’t heard from you in a while, honey.”

I sniffle and force deep breaths, making sure my voice won’t shake before I pull my hand away. “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. My phone shattered and no one I’m around uses them and I just haven’t gotten around to replacing it. I’m calling from a payphone near my apartment. What time is it there? I’m not calling too late, am I?”

“Oh no, it’s only about 7 o’clock here. Your brother and I have just been watching the new Doctor Who season - “

“Is that Melisa?” I hear my dad say in the background.

“Yes, dear. Your dad wants to talk to you, Melisa.”

“Okay,” I say. I hear her attempt to pass the phone, but my dad mumbles something about putting the phone on speaker.

“Hey, Melisa! How are ya'?” he says and my heart squeezes hearing the excitement in his voice. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry,” I say, repeating the same spiel.

“That newspaper must be working you like a dog if you can’t find time to call your dear old Dad,” he says and I manage to chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m crazy busy, but I love it.”

“Well that’s good. They paying you enough? They should, for all that hard work you’re doin’.”

“Yes, Dad, I’m doing just fine,” I say. “How’ve you been? How’s Ben?”

“I’m doin’ alright,” he says. He starts listing various projects he’s had to work on about the house and the latest issue with my mom’s truck, something about the transmission. I use the time to focus on calming my shaking breaths.

I hear Ben’s voice give a faint “Hi, Melisa”.

“He’s almost saved enough for that down payment on the house he’s been looking at,” my dad says for him.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “What kind of house?”

My brother definitely responds, but he’s talked over by an electronic voice announcing I have one minute left.

“I have to go,” I say, failing to keep the sadness out of my voice. “I used all my coins.”

“Well, Merry Christmas, honey,” Mom says.

“And we miss you,” my dad chimes in. “You need to call us more.”

“I’ll try, but it might be a while,” I admit. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Mom says. “Talk to you lat -”

The call ends and slowly I put the handset back in its place. Mentally I’d been transported back home - I could picture my parents sitting in their usual spots at the kitchen table, my brother on the couch in the family area. If you stand in the right spot, you can see down to the living room through the kitchen, the Christmas tree all aglow. I can see every detail in my mind’s eye and the overwhelming longing to be home brings a fresh round of tears. My hand comes up to cover my mouth as I let out a silent sob.

Once the emotion has been poured out of me, I feel raw, but… better. I use the sleeve of my sweater to dab at my eyes, knowing my makeup is probably ruined regardless. When I turn back to Thomus, I find him watching me with a wary expression.

“Okay!” I say brightly, pushing back the door. “We can go.”

Wordlessly, he grabs my hand and we Apparate on the spot.

~*~

We get back to the cottage and I immediately go to the kitchen, cranking on the record player. I'm finally in the mood for music and have just enough energy to make the batch of cookies Thomus asked for.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow me and bombard me with a bunch of questions, which I honestly half-expected of him.

Singing along to every Christmas song that plays, I don’t pause until the last tray of cookies are in the oven and the dishes have been washed. When I pass through the living room, I spot Thomus on the couch, leaning against the back cushions with his eyes closed. I run upstairs to take off my pants and bra, getting ready to settle in for the night.

Just as I finish brushing my teeth, the timer goes off and I rush downstairs to pull out the last tray. Once they’re on the racks to cool, I shut off the music and return to the living room.

Thomus hasn’t moved. The fire is going and with the kitchen light off, the only other light is coming from the tree. Hesitantly I step closer to him, wondering if he might be asleep, but notice his face isn’t exactly relaxed.

Acting on pure impulse, I crawl onto his lap. He stirs when he feels my legs straddle his, eyes fluttering open in surprise to watch me. I support my weight with my hands on the back of the couch, gently lowering myself until my front is fully pressed against him. He lifts his head as I close my arms around his shoulders and smoosh my face against the side of his. I’m hyper aware of how much bigger I am than him, so I refrain from relaxing completely.

After a moment, his body softens beneath mine and he lets out a long sigh. His arms go around my waist and he hugs me tightly, hips flexing down enough so they’re nestled perfectly between my thighs. Slowly I relax, tension lifting from my body.

“I’m not too heavy, right?” I ask softly, almost shyly, in his ear.

His face moves side to side, nuzzling his nose by my ear. “No, this is…” He runs his hands down my back, smoothing around the curve of my hips down to my thighs before gliding them back up my sides, caressing my rolls. “I love this.”

His sincerity makes my heart soar. It makes me feel so whole, so completely accepted physically. My grip around him tightens, not wanting to let go. I can’t deny how well our bodies just… fit.

“Thank you for my Christmas presents,” I murmur. “This wasn’t… the worst Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“Hm,” he replies thoughtfully, his lips nestled against my neck. “Hasn’t been too bad for me either, come to think of it.” His hands travel to my undie-covered ass where he squeezes hard and gives it a little shake. “And look at you, a present already half-way unwrapped.”

One of his hands shoots to the underside of my foot, dancing his fingers along it. My leg jerks and I let out a sudden squeal, trying to push myself away from him. He’s quick though, one arm latches around my waist to keep me sealed against him even as I wiggle in his lap. I’m laughing, smiling so hard my cheeks already hurt.

I’m breathless and only manage to say his name like a plea. By the time I break free of his hold, he’s grinning too as I swing myself off of his lap to collapse on my back in the remaining space of the couch.

His hooded eyes are locked onto the space between my thighs and I only have a moment before he pounces. Thomus settles between my legs and spends the rest of Christmas slowly unwrapping me as if I really am his present.

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kurtcobainproject · 1 month

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Process Note

Throughout this project the main theme was looking at Kurt Cobain and using the guiding question “How does the music Nirvana and Kurt Cobain made and media presence showcase themes of sadness and depression that are associated with the sad girl aesthetic, as well as what impact did he have on emotional vulnerability in popular music today.”

to help find questions and answers to help complete this project. For starters I wanted to look at the tumblr page made. My sad girl figure as previously mentioned was “Kurt Cobain” and the first piece of work I wanted to look at was a video essay uploaded to youtube talking about depression and Kurt Cobain being upfront about his addiction and depression issues, and throughout the video the interviewer is asking Cobain very serious questions such as “do you ever feel vulnerable or confused”. I picked this piece because it stood out to me as it was audio evidence and some early signs of what he was dealing with at the time as 2 years later he would have unfortunately passed away.

The next post on my tumblr page is an archive post on the band Kurt was a part of Nirvana. During this time period big platforms like youtube didn't exist so if you wanted to be popular coming on MTV unplugged was really a good career booster, I specifically picked this video because it was the band and Kurt being at their peak influence wise and I always considered a component of being a sad girl was a high social influence as well as being aesthetically inclined they showcased who they were as a band for the world to see while being at the tops of their careers. In the video I posted the band is performing “come as you are” a song released on the Nevermind album from Nirvana which I always figured was through the perspective of someone who wants to seek acceptance and figure out who they really are as a person. The song also has themes such as a desire for a connection, the song despite its sad tone lines within the song such as “As a friend, as an old memoria” stood out to me because it sounds like it wants someone to understand the singer's pain and sadness and past experiences. The song title “come as you are” stood out to me as accepting the pain though as coming as you are even if you are sad may signal that you are processing how you feel and allowing yourself to move on forward.

The next post on the tumblr page was the album art from Nirvana released September 21st 1991. I picked this next on the collage because It was their first popular album that gave them the status as this huge figure within the industry at the time. The album cover which showcases a baby underwater with a dollar being on a fish hook I always found interesting because at first glance, it didn't make any sense to me and I just assumed they did it to be funny but after doing research for this project and looking at it through a different lens, I later came to the conclusion that it could mean that society is so wrong and money driven and everyone only cares about themselves that even a baby which is looked at as innocent in society cant even help itself to chase money. I always found this really interesting that they picked this as their album cover and it sticks to the band's core choosing this regardless of the meaning behind it just because of the band's background and who they are to the core.

Next on the collage is a photoshoot with the band as a whole with Kurt Cobain in the center behind a sign that says “Men don't protect you anymore” This was art done made for a article on Nirvana made by Stephen Sweet, which behind this article was looking and exploring men in the media who don't align themselves with the traditional values of being masculine what what a man means, they also showcased this in there music with the following songs Polly, Pennyroyal Tea, and Breed which to me sounded like they all had a common theme with dealing with gender issues while songs like “About a girl, All Apologies had a sound which was accepting and welcoming to everyone.

The last picture on my collage for the project is Kurt Cobain doing a live acoustic performance for MTVs Unplugged November 18th 1993, as previously mentioned attending this was really important for their careers and was Nirvana at there best and peak With choosing Kurt and relating him to sad girl culture it is important to highlight his presence within the world I feel as if in order to be a sad girl one of the components needs to be a large following and this picture was taken at the bands peak. This picture relates to my guided question as the 2nd part to my question is "what impact did he have on emotional vulnerability in popular music today" the answer to this would be the following bands such as Foo Fighters and Pearl Jam as they not only started using the acoustic sound inspired from this unplugged set they use important tones inspired from nirvana's lyrics that talk about social issues and emotions.

Lastly, all 3 peer reviewed journals that I used to help with my work all helped with understanding sad girl culture and relating it back to Cobain. In the article “Social Media Sadness: Sad girl Culture and Radical ways of feeling bad” it essentially talks about the sudden rise of of the culture and how it became popular off mainly Tumblr and Instagram a quote I really liked in this which I felt like embodied what being a sad girl was down to a definition was “The Sad Girl is core to a new brand of feminism and philosophy that defines the performance of mood online, revealing both why young women are so sad and how sadness can actually be a way of releasing negative affect and protesting wrongdoing rather than wallowing in non-action” I liked this definition and I kind of took examples of this while looking for my “sad girl” looking for someone who embodied this philosophy while also having a large social media presence. The next peer reviewed article was titled “From Anti hero to commodity: The legacy of Kurt Cobain.” This was mainly a background on who he was my plan with this journal was to highlight his popularity as it talked about how after his passing parks were built for him, he inspired new bands and types of music and the band that he was apart of in his early 20s Nirvana was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame. Which again showcases his status as a prominent figure within the music industry with a huge following already. The last peer reviewed Journal I wanted to look at was based on sadness and depression which plays into the sad girl aesthetic being vocal about it and relates back to Kurt Cobain as this was something he struggled with throughout his life. I used this article because if I was learning how Kurt Cobain I needed to understand more in depth what depression was and core differences between depression and sadness were and major impacts upon this as not only was this a focus point the sad figure I picked suffered with this.

In conclusion, choosing Kurt Cobain as my sad girl was a perfect example, he embodies the sad girl culture from his aesthetic, personality, the way he carries himself and his beliefs, and with his following and bringing people together through his music.

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secondhandsorrows · 5 months

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Storytelling with Music in Mind

Rant incoming! You've been warned.

Like how writers and storytellers often use movies and film to teach structure, character, relationships, foreshadowing, mystery, climaxes, keeping intrigue, and more, we can explore the same things through a musical lens.

Music can be a big source and tool for not just the tedious writing process, but also for inspiration and story form. Because I’m also a musician, music is one of the biggest factors I use in my writing. Listening to music is a fantastic tool in visualizing your scenes or characters, so it is extremely useful in planning out pacing, tone and atmosphere, as well as observing your characters act out in different ways in different situations. It’s one of my top-favorite ways to envision my ideas or structure my stories (especially thematically).

Another favorite exercise of mine is taking inspiration from music, namely Classical or Romantic-Era music, for the content or foundation of a story. One of my short stories I’ve finished is structured around the three movements of Debussy’s La Mer, basing my scenes around each movement’s title and general emotional idea. It’s a fun way to distinguish what makes you love a song and how you can incorporate those values into your own storytelling.

Though music and books are both totally disparate forms of art, there are some ways the two may not be so different.

There’s a lot of music and genres out there can be inspiring for many different authors: it can be anything. Some of my favorites are folk, rock, classical, neo-classical, video-game, soundtrack… now I’m just listing the top genres on my Spotify Wrapped, but you get the gist. One particular kind of music I’ve been recently obsessed with has its form already structured by story: symphonic poems. A symphonic poem (aka, tone poem) is a romantic-era style of orchestral music that expresses or illustrates an idea, story, content of a poem, or a landscape, which is typically alluded to in its title. The whole idea and term was essentially created by Franz Liszt, who composed a multitude of them (though descriptive and programmatic music had been around for quite a long time before.)

The structure of tone poems often suggests a natural sequence of events. Dvorak's A Hero's Song, op. 111 depicts a nameless protagonist undergoing what could be described as a Hero’s Journey (kind of like the story structure)— facing trials and tragedies before coming out triumphant. Glière’s The Sirens, op. 33 evokes a fantasy-feel with its depiction of blood-thirsty, beautiful sirens. These are just a few examples out of many, and I highly recommend having a listen, if you’re ever in need of expanding your musical playlists.

Depending on the content of which they want to express, composers would often use different, specific approaches according to the subject matter and the story or emotions they wanted to convey, such as instrumentation, dynamics, rhythms, rests, gestures, timbre, texture, what have you. Recurring themes can be sprinkled throughout, including variations to portray change or different events. I won’t get much into this, as this isn’t a composition post, but I mention these because the process is rather similar to the story writing process. We convey what we want to convey using themes, tone, dialogue, plot devices, and, in the more technical sense, word choice, grammar, paragraph structure, etc., which all create a kind of musical rhythm when put together.

We can look at all the ways we can interpret and utilize music — from its form and structure, to its inspirational and emotional facets — into our stories. How it can all gets us to feel.

Putting it simply, the idea of incorporating music with story is, in its best terms, to explore idea generation, story structure, and character arc, in a way that impacts the reader emotionally, subverts (or sometimes mindfully adheres) to expectations, and keeps intrigue and relatability. We relate not to just the concrete content of a piece, or a song, or a story, but also the abstract emotion it gives us. Furthermore, this kind of music exists not just in the idea or the story, but also as the words on the page: the musical-sounding phrasing, the sentences, structure, word choice, rhythmic flow…

Speaking of, I’ll leave this off with a fantastic quote from Gary Provost’s “100 Ways to Improve Your Writing” (which I haven’t read, but found this quote interesting and just had to share):

“Writing is not a visual art any more than composing music is a visual art. To write is to create music. The words you write make sounds, and when those sounds are in harmony, the writing will work. Read aloud what you write and listen to its music. Listen for dissonance. Listen for the beat. Listen for gaps where the music leaps from sound to sound instead of flowing as it should. Listen for sour notes. Is this word a little sharp, is that one a bit flat? … There are no good sounds or bad sounds [in writing], just as there are no good notes or bad notes in music. It is the way in which you combine them that can make the writing succeed or fail.” - (100 Ways to Improve Your Writing, by Gary Provost)

Thus concludes my little rant — I just love getting to talk about music whenever I get the chance to. Thanks for reading!

#writing tips #writing advice #creative writing #fiction #writing #story structure #character #on writing #story tips #music #music rant #storytelling #narrative #writing process #writer tips #romantic era #music history #romantic era music

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buttterknifeee · 3 years

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How long is forever? - Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Masterlist

Request: "Hello, May I request an episode insert in the Teen Titans episode 'How Long Is Forever?'"

Summary: Starfire takes a trip to the future... only to find out that you and the other Titans have disbanded. Will she find a way back to the present, or will you live an unfulfilling life forever?? (from S2 EP1)

Pairings: None

Word Count: 3919

A/N: Hey!!! sorry this took a while, it was super hard to write it due to most of it being in Starfire's POV. Most of the episodes in the series are centered around specific titans, so if you have an idea for an Aquagirl centered episode, feel free to send it in!!! (theres also a grand total of one cuss word in there)

Aquagirl’s Room - 2004

“Where is it? Where is it?” you mumble, tearing your room apart. You were looking for one of your CDs that you were in the mood for listening to. You threw your clothes into the air, looked under your bed, and even checked inside of your fish tank, holding the water containing a few tropical fish above you until you gave up. You sighed, finally checking the clock. You realized that you’ve been in your room for an hour and you haven’t even said hello to the other titans. You quickly change into your suit and head to the living room.

You stretched as you walked in. “Hey guys-” you stop in confusion at the scene in front of you. Starfire was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, holding a bunch of necklaces and boxes and babbling something about “Blorthorg”, Beast Boy and Cyborg were brawling for a video game remote, Raven was reading silently and holding up a pair of nail clippers (?) telepathically, and Robin….

Anger bubbles up inside of you as you realize that he was in front of the stereo, blasting music. From your CD. You cross your arms as you march up to the Boy Wonder.

“Hey Rob, whatcha doing with my CD?” You say. “What, was Kelly Clarkson too quiet for you?”

Raven adds, “Yeah Robin, could the music be a little louder? I can still hear myself think.”

He glares at the two of you “I don’t listen- I only turned the music up to DROWN OUT ALL THE YELLING!!” He refers to the two boys. Cyborg now had Beast Boy in a headlock, holding the controller triumphantly.

“Whose turn is it now, tough guy? Whose turn is it now?” Cyborg taunts the green teen.

“Knock it off! I can't work with you two acting like idiots!” Robin yells.

“Work?? The only “work” I see you doing is stealing my stuff!” You snap.

“Great. More yelling will definitely stop the yelling.” Raven says, a sarcastic smirk on her face.

The three of you glared at each other, Cyborg and Beast Boy were still fighting, and one of Starfire’s necklaces broke, its beads tumbling onto the ground.

“STTTOOOOPPPPP!” the alien princess screamed. You stared at her in surprise. She took a deep breath and recomposed herself.

“ Friends must never behave this way, and especially not on Blorthog! Do you wish to invite the Rekmas?” she said.

“Gesundheit?” Beast Boy said, confused by her vocabulary.

“On my world, ‘Rekmas’ means ‘the Drifting.’” she explains. “The point at which close friends begin to drift apart, and their friendship begins to die.” She frowned. You immediately felt bad for all the yelling you did.

“Aw, come on, Starfire.” Cyborg comes to her side.

“We are so not Rek-whatever-ing.” Beast Boy reassures her.

“We're getting on each other's nerves a little. Big deal.” Raven says.

“Fighting’s just a part of life. As long as we resolve it, we’ll be fine.” You say.

“Yeah. This is just typical roommate stuff. We're not going to drift apart, Star. I promise. We'll all be friends forever.” Robin declares

“Forever?” Starfire asks. Before you could answer, Robin’s T-communicator beeped. The communicator was flashing red, and he turned to you and the others.

“Titans! Trouble!” he says. You all rush out of the Tower and into the city.

You find the “trouble” in the Jump City museum. It was a man wearing black and gold armor and a goatee: Warp. He was monologuing to a bunch of guards that he had frozen.

“I didn't journey back in time one hundred years to squabble, I came to steal.” You see him reaching for one of the clocks. “The Clock of Eternity. Valuable in the past, priceless in the future.” Robin steppeds forward, throwing his birdirang to knock Warp’s hand back.

“But for the present...you'll keep your filthy hands off it.” He says, announcing the Titans’ entrance. The man turns to the six of you.

"The Teen Titans. This is a treat. I read all about you in the historical archives. And now, you're all history!” He fires his laser at you all.

“Titans! Go!” Robin yells as you scramble to dodge his rays. He blocks Warp’s rays with his staff, but at the last shot the staff breaks, and he backed up. Starfire blasts her starbolts at him, but the bolts ricochet off of him and hits her, sending her to the ground. You and Beast Boy attack him now, a stream of water lifting you into the air by your feet. You put your hands in front of you and a jet of water blasts out of your hands, heading straight for Warp. He held his hand us as the water made contact with him, and froze the water. The ice traveled up the jet of water and onto your hands, encasing them in the long shard of ice. You fell, the weight of the ice dragging you down. You winced as you saw Beast Boy meet a similar fate, his animal form frozen in ice next to you. You struggled to free your hands as Cyborg and Raven both went down. Robin gives one last attempt to take Warp down, running towards him.

“You cannot defeat Warp. I am from the future.” He says, throwing disks towards Robin. He dove to the side as the projectiles exploded. “And your relics are one hundred years out of date." He grabs the clock and presses a blue lens from his armor. Suddenly, a blinding white portal forms in front of him. Your hands were still stuck so you had to squint.

“Ta-ta, Titans. I have enjoyed our time together, but I've got a very bright future ahead of me.” He sneers, stepping through the portal. You finally pull your hands out of the chunk of ice just in time to see Starfire slam into Warp, sending the two of them into the portal.

“Starfire!” Robin yells, trying to dive in after her, only for the portal to close and him to fall on the floor. You pull him up from the ground and look around. Starfire was gone.

Titan’s Tower-2024

Starfire couldn’t believe what was going on. After tackling Warp, she ripped off the lens on his suit and ended up in Jump City, 20 years into the future. She found Cyborg alone in the rotting Titans Tower, hooked up to a large battery. He explained that the day she left, the Titans fell apart, and disbanded soon after. He told her that the others can help her get back to the present, telling her where to find you, Beast Boy, and Raven.

She found herself at a circus whilst looking for Beast Boy. There in a cage, sat Beast Boy, changing into various animals. She approached the cage as he turned back into his human form. He was now a pudgy old man, with a great deal of hair loss. He looked at her with wide eyes through the bars.

“No way! It's you. But how?” he asked, peering at her with his wrinkled eyes.

“I require your help.” Starfire said.

“What kinda help?” Beast Boy asked.

“The future is not as it should be. We must find Warp. I will free you from this--” Beast Boy stopped Starfire from continuing her sentence.

“This cage isn't to keep me in! It's to keep those maniacs out!” he explained in a panicked tone, referring to a group of kids. “Look. After the Titans broke up, I tried the whole solo-hero thing. Got my butt kicked, a lot. So now, well…”

He turned into a chicken briefly to illustrate his point. “ Besides, I'm in the showbiz now.” Starfire could tell he wasn’t happy with where he was, but there was nothing she could do. She left Beast Boy and went to find Raven.

She found Raven in a room in a broken down building. She was standing in a pure white room, wearing a white cloak to match. Her back was facing Starfire when she arrived.

“Raven?” she squeaked, inching into the room. “Raven, it is Starfire, your friend”

“No such thing.” she groaned, her back still facing Starfire. Starfire’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Please, Raven I-”

“Just another figment. Don’t even look.”

“You must listen! I am here because-” she pleads, but Raven stops her.

“I’m never coming back! Go away!” she yells, Starfire backing up in fear. “It has to go away. Just like before. Just like all the others.” Starfire frowns in realization. She must not think I’m real; she thinks it's all in her head.

“Your mind.” she says softly, approaching the cloaked woman. “Without friends, you must have--” Starfire was about to touch Raven, but her familiar dark shield formed around her. She gasps, then eventually leaves the room in defeat. There was one last person she could try talking to. You.

She walked by the Jump City beach, the same place where you got your powers all those years ago. Suddenly, you rose out of the ocean, the water around you carrying you onto shore. Your face was stuck in a permanent glare, different to your constant smiles as a teen. You were taller, definitely had a few wrinkles, and you were wearing Atlantean clothing. Starfire flinched at your sudden arrival.

“Aquagirl! how-”

“I don’t go by Aquagirl anymore. I am Queen (y/n), ruler of Atlantis. And word gets around when one of your old teammates who had disappeared 20 years ago is roaming Jump City again, even at the bottom of the ocean.” You say coldly, eyeing her as she shrunk at the sight of you.

“What had happened to you, my friend?” she asked.

You sigh, recalling your memories. “After you disappeared and the team disbanded, I vowed to never be as soft and vulnerable as I was then. I moved to Atlantis, and was eventually appointed ruler.”

“Oh my, that sounds terrible!” Starfire exclaimed. “I need your help my friend-”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s not terrible, I am quite fine just the way I am. And we were friends 20 years ago; things have changed.” You turn your back to her. “I must get going; there’s much I need to do.” Starfire stares at you in sadness as you walk back into the ocean, the water swallowing you up and the waves lapping like normal.

Starfire trudges through the snow-covered city, when a laser blast knocks her back. Her eyes raise to meet with Warp’s, his weapon aimed at her.

“What’s the matter, dear? Have I come at a bad time?” he snarls, opening fire once more. She dodges his shots and fires back, but the starbolts simply bounce off his modern armor. She tried to hit him close up but he held up his hand and ice formed around her midair. The large chunk of ice containing Starfire drops and shatters, leaving Starfire on the ground, shivering. She glares at Warp, who now has deeper wrinkles on his face.

“You have become so old,” she notes, still on the ground.

“That's what happens when someone steals my vortex regulator.” he says, holding out his hand. “The regulator, if you please. I really must get back to my future.” She stands up and takes the lens out from her belt. She couldn’t let him leave, especially when she’s stuck in a future like this. She held the disk next to her and warmed up a starbolt, as if to hold it hostage.

“If you ever wish to see your future you will repair the damage you have done to my past!” she yelled, anger bubbling up inside her. The villain laughed.

“Damage? Silly girl. There's nothing wrong with your past. One cannot damage history, because history cannot be changed.” He held up the clock and continued. “I went back in time to steal this because history says it disappeared. And history says it disappeared because I went back to steal it. Past, present, future. It's all written in stone, my dear.”

Starfire stood in disbelief dropping her glowing hand. No… this can't be the future we’re destined to live. Such terrible lives… she thought. Warp walked up to her shocked state and took the lens out of her hand.

“And nothing you do can ever change it.” he scoffed. Warp prepared to blast her when he was knocked into the alleyway by an unknown figure. Starfire snapped back into reality and looked around for you had knocked the villain back. A dark silhouette lept forward and threw Warp against the end wall of the alley. They threw disks at the villain, the area around him exploding. When the smoke cleared, Starfire could see that Warp had used a force field. He released his shield only to be met with the mysterious figure dropping down towards him. He stared straight at Starfire.

“Another time, perhaps.” he said. Before the shadowed person could reached him, he dropped into the ground. The person who had tried to fight him landed right where Warp had been, and as they straightened up, Starfire inched forward to see who it was.

“It’s good to see you again.” the person said. Starfire could recognize that voice from anywhere, and apparently, anytime.

“Robin?” she asked.

“I haven’t used that name in a long time.” he said, finally stepping out of the shadows. He looked nothing like the Boy Wonder she knew. His traffic-light esque uniform was replaced by a black suit with a blue bird on the front. He still wore a mask and he now had long, black hair.

“Call me… Nightwing.”

Starfire found herself in Robin’s (or Nightwing’s) base. She looked at a glass case of his old uniform, a feeling of melancholy washing over her. She was glad that he was ok, but the Robin she once knew was now nothing more than a mannequin display. Nightwing wrapped a blanket around her with a small smile.

Nightwing finally spoke. “So I’ve heard you’ve been looking for help.”

Starfire sighed. “There is nothing you can do. There is nothing anyone can do. The past cannot be repaired, the future cannot be altered, no matter how wrong it seems.”

“So it’s impossible.” Nightwing determined from her rant, walking towards a bunch of computers. “Good. If memory serves, we've done the impossible before.”

Nightwing’s words had surprised Starfire. None of the others had said anything as hopeful since she’d arrived here. A small fire of hope blossomed inside of her.

“I held on to this,” Nightwing says, pressing a button from a device. “...just in case.” Starfire’s eyes widened, realizing that it was a T-communicator. The communicator began to flash red, and to Starfire’s delight, so did her neck piece and wrist guard.

At the bottom of the ocean, you sat on a throne, talking to your advisers. As they left, your seashell necklace began to flash red. You looked at it in surprise, recognizing what it meant: it was an emergency signal that Robin had put in your necklace while you were still in a team. Even after 20 years, he had never used it until now. You began to get up from your throne when a group of your advisors came back, swarming you with scrolls and questions. You sat back down, a bitter feeling in your throat.

Beast Boy’s belt had flashed red whilst he was performing a trick in his animal form. He quickly jumped back into human form. He observed his belt for a moment before stepping back, hanging his head.

Cyborg's robotic eye flashed red as he sat alone in the Titans Tower. He immediately got up and started towards the door, only to be stopped by the wires keeping him alive and stuck inside the tower. He looks back at the power source.

Raven still stands alone in the room, her back facing the door. The brooch of her cloak flashes red, and without looking at it, she covers it with her hand.

Starfire and Nightwing venture to Jump City museum, where they find Warp, fixing his time travel suit. He wields the lens that he took from Starfire to his suit, whilst talking to himself.

“Tick-tock.” he laughs. “Just a few more seconds, and I shall finally--” his sentence was cut off by Nightwing knocking the tool out of his hand, revealing him and Starfire’s position.

“The future will have to wait.” Nightwing says, extending his staff. “You just ran out of time.”

Warp growls and fires laser beams at them, causing them to split up to avoid getting hit. Starfire shoots her starbolts at Warp again, despite them getting deflected by his force field. Nightwing however, jumped down on him again, using his staff to crush one of his lasers. He turns to face Nightwing, but Starfire lands a hit on his back with her starbolt. He tries to laser Starfire but has to dodge Nightwing’s staff attacks that barely strike him. He fights quickly and with fury, eventually knocking Warp flat on his back. The two heroes step close to him to inspect him. But Warp grins, and uses his second laser to blow a hole through the roof, snow and rubble falling onto Starfire.

“Star!” Nightwing yells, but Warp blasts him back with his laser. Warp runs over to the tool he dropped and started repairing his suit again as Nightwing helped Starfire up. Suddenly, he was blasted back by a familiar blue ray. Starfire and Nightwing turn to see Cyborg, his arm cannon smoking, but being able to function without any wires.

“Boo-yah” he says with a grimace.

“Cyborg!” Starfire exclaims, flying over to the half robot. “You are repaired!”

“Glad you could make it,” Nightwing says, joining them.

“Wouldn't have missed it. Now who said y'all could start without me?” Cyborg said as Warp stood back up.

“So sorry,” Warp said, holding up another device. “Perhaps I should finish you first!” Before he could use the device, he was attacked by a green lion, Beast Boy. Warp looked at the lens he was repairing, now crackling with electricity. In anger, he pointed a laser at him, but a jet of water shot up from the floor. You ran into view, a trident now in your hand.

“Heard you guys needed help!” you yell, a hint of a smile peeking out from your stoic face.

Before Warp could fall to the ground again, he is overtaken by magic, and thrown into the side of the wall. Raven materializes, still wearing a white cloak.

“Nobody hurts my friends,” she said, reminiscent of the first time you met her.

“Dude, that is so unfair,” Beast Boy whines, comparing his bald head to Nightwing’s flowing hair. The six Titans turn to see Warp, who has managed to create a wormhole, despite his suit being damaged.

“It seems my time has come,” Warp said, preparing to walk through the wormhole. Nightwing threw a birdarang at Warp, Warp throwing his own disk to intercept it. Starfire watched in awe as the birdirang sliced through Warp’s disk and hit him in the chest, right where the lens sat.

“Uh?! No! NOOOOO!” the six of you watched in horror as Warp regressed in age until he was nothing more than a screaming infant.

“Ok, I am not changing any diapers.” Beast Boy said, staring at the baby.

Cyborg looked at Starfire. “We gotta get you home. Come on!” he pointed at the wormhole, which was shrinking. He took the lens from the suit and put it in his arm cannon. He fired at the wormhole, making it bigger.

“Im redirecting the wormhole.” Cyborg said, turning to Starfire. “Starfire! Go!” She steps towards the portal and looks back at her friends. Their lives seemed so lonely and.. dissatisfying. Is this life they were destined to live?

“Please, must this really be our future?” She asked. The rest of you looked at her silently, sadness in your eyes. “Is there nothing I can do to change it?” Nightwing stepped up and looked directly into her eyes.

“I'm sorry, Star. There isn't time.” Nightwing said. He placed the clock that Warp had stolen in her hand and his other hand on her shoulder. He gives her one last smile before stepping back towards the other Titans, beckoning her to enter the portal. Starfire took a deep breath, and walked into the portal.

Jump City Museum - 2004

“Starfire!” Robin yells, trying to dive in after her, only for the portal to close and him to fall on the floor. You pull him up from the ground and look around. Starfire was gone.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Beast Boy stared at the place the portal was. “Um, where did she-?”

Another portal opens with a brilliant flash between Beast Boy and Cyborg. Starfire falls out, curled around an item. You all rushed towards her.

“Dude!”

“Whoa!”

“Star! What happened?” Robin asked as the portal behind her closed.

“History said it disappeared.” Starfire said, straightening and revealing the clock warp had just stolen. “But history was wrong!”

The boys stared at her dumbstruck but you laughed, diving in for a hug.

You stood with the other titans as Starfire recounted her story. You covered your mouth in awe to find out what happened to you and the others in the future.

“Then Nightwing handed me the clock and I entered the vortex.” she finished.

“Woah,” Raven said, shocked by the recount of Starfire’s story.

“Bald?!” Beast Boy yells, grabbing at his hair. “You're telling me I'm going to be bald?!”

“Gosh, Star, all of our lives seem so terrible,” you say, thinking about what Starfire had said about you. You were a queen (which was cool), but you were also a cold hearted bitch (super uncool). You didn’t want that to happen, and more importantly for you to no longer be friends with the other Titans.

“Guess you were right about all that Rekmas stuff,” Cyborg said, slightly concerned.

“I don't want us to drift apart. Does it all have to happen? Isn't there anything we can-” Robin worries out loud, but Starfire stops him.

“Our friendship has already changed Warp's past. I believe it can also change our future.” Starfire says with a smile.

“Yeah I mean, the original reason we “broke up” was because of Starfire disappearing, and since she’s here now, we aren’t breaking up!” You chimed in, grinning at the other Titans.

Raven picks up the broken necklace with her telekinesis, stringing them back together.

“So… is it too late to do this festival-of-friendship thing?” she asks.

Starfire’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s never too late!”

You all put on the bulbous necklaces Starfire brought in the morning.

“HAPPY BORTHOG!!!” Cyborg cheers.

“I thought it was Blort-Hog,” Beast Boy wondered.

“Okay, I feel like a wind-chime.” Raven groans.

“A very cool wind-chime,” you winked.

Starfire put the last necklace on Robin. He raises an eyebrow at her.

“So… Nightwing, huh?” he asked.

“Don’t even think about it bird brain,” you yelled from across the room, causing him to blush. You all burst out into laughter. The tower stayed cheerful the rest of the night.

202 notes · View notes

notnctu · 4 years

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switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au, ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo ; @dearlyminhyung

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :)

The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you.

This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you.

He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you.

So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together.

You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.

The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.

Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts.

Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you.

“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone.

“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.

“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.

The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut.

“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”

Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.

He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.

“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter.

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.”

Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more.

He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal.

But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.

You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone.

“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face.

“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car.

And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.

It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.

He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.

While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.

If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.

He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen.

Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.

Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.

“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body.

The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire.

“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?”

The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”

His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.”

Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.”

“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention.

He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.

Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno.

You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.

Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.

Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat.

Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things.

And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.

He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.

“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”

“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats.

Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”

“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink.

At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you.

“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.

“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”

Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.

The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.

“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs.

The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel.

“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”

You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”

“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.

All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.

Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips.

However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.

You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again.

“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship.

“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.

His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you.

There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.

“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”

Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”

Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”

Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.

Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.

“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice.

You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper.

His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate.

Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.

“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.”

Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.

“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.

You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.

The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle.

You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.

Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you.

This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s.

You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.

“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.

Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you.

His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.

The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.

His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him.

“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax.

Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.

Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.

Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.”

“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.

“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.

It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.

“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.

“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.”

Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.

Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.

It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.”

The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed.

But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.”

“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.

He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.

“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space.

Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.

The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”

The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.

He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid.

“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.

A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?”

Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?”

Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”

A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves,

“thank you for stepping in.”

“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again.

His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them.

“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”

The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”

His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.”

Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.

“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s.

Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.”

To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being.

“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.

But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.

“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.”

He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours.

The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.

Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.

Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his.

“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior.

“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.

Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek.

But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.

Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.

Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.

He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed.

Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.

“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle.

Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.

“How-- How fast are you going?”

Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.”

The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”

You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”

Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him.

You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.

The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much.

Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.

Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.

“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.

Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”

Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that.

Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious.

His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown.

“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response.

“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”

“---No need to further explain.”

“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.

You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”

Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.”

Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it.

A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.

“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.”

The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.

One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin.

“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.”

You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further.

Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.

“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.”

“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.

He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.

Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.”

“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.

His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.

He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.

One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.

It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving.

However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him.

He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.”

Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.

“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat.

The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile.

“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party.

“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand.

“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough.

“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”

He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.”

“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.

Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.”

Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard.

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.

He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode.

His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs.

You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.

He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect.

Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.”

Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.

However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own.

It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.

He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.

“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer.

Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.

“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.

Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.”

You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.

“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk.

He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car.

Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane.

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lucysometimeswrites · 3 years

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SUBMISSION: Prompt 1,20,29 from the Disney song list with Harry Holland ( I’m interested to see how this goes)

DUDE i am so sorry this took SOOOOO long but i hadn't had time for it and i didn't wanna just give you something rushed so anyway i hope you like it!

1. Please don’t shut me out again, please don’t slam the door.

20. Go on and kiss the girl.

29. Barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly

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

“God, that’s disgusting”, you grimaced at the newly-formed couple who was making out in the living room. The Holland’s living room, to be precise. Harry and you had been friends for a while, close enough to be invited to get-togethers and random drinking evenings. This was one of those evenings, where everyone wanted to unwind and have a good laugh to inaugurate the weekend, and Harry offered the perfect way to do that.

I mean, free booze, the guy you liked, and good music? How could you say no?

You and Harry had hit it off quite quickly after first meeting a few years ago, through mutual friends. You had a lot of similar interests, same sort of humour, and even in the things you thought differently on, you learned to like for the other. He was an absolute dream. Everyone saw it, too. They secretly hoped you’d get together soon, and already assumed something happened between the two of you but, alas, here you were. Angry at life and that innocent couple in the living room because of the stupid, lovey-dovey thoughts that just wouldn’t go away.

“Why the long face?” Harry asked with a chuckle as he entered the kitchen, stopping beside you and turning to look where your angry stare was headed.

You nodded towards the living room, and answered, “Them. Like, can you not do it in front of my face, please?”

“But you’re all the way here in the kitchen?” he said, confused.

“Shut up” you ended, giving a big swig of your cup. A silence made itself at home between you too, not necessarily uncomfortable as you would expect, but a little suffocating. You became self-conscious about every move you made, hating how the curly-headed boy could turn you into a mess with just his presence.

“I think it’s cute” he shrugged, breaking the silence.

“They’re barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly. Ha, what a joke” you challenged.

The quiet settled again and you didn’t notice, but Harry side-eyed you while a million thought ran through his mind. He remembered that one night where you found yourselves in a similar situation. Both drunk off your asses and looking at the world through a pink lens, you shared an intimate kiss just weeks after meeting each other. He also remembered how, after trying to talk about it with you, you shut him out and didn’t speak to him for an entire two weeks. It was after promising he’d never bring it up again that you ended the silent treatment, much to his delight.

As the night went on, you kept going into the kitchen for more drink refills, feeling a little tipsy. The people, getting rowdier and nastier, went on to find the darkest spots in the house for their shenanigans, and you were so distracted that you didn’t even realize when you were dragged to a circle that formed in the living room. The announcement that the classic “Spin The Bottle” game was about to be played was made and yup, cue the eye roll.

A bunch of rounds went by with no one you actually cared to remember the name of getting their turn, until the guy who looked a little to drunk to be managing the game yelled,

“Harry! My boy! Your turn to snog one of these lucky ladies here tonight” he motioned to the girls sitting around the circle, who all bit their lips or looked down in embarrassment.

“Snog? Shut up, mate,” the red-head answered and confidently spun the bottle.

You held your breath and did not tear your eyes from it, the stupid thing seeming to spin for ages until it slowly came to a stop.

Pointing at you.

Of course it’s me, you thought as you closed your eyes, damning every single power in the universe. When you opened them, Harry was intently staring at you, as if studying any movement you might make and trying to figure out what was going through your head. In response, you got on your knees and lightly slapped you hands on your thighs, showing you were ready. He didn’t move an inch, still analyzing your face. Harry knew this was thin ice he was treading on—one wrong move and everything would go to shit. He was dying to press his lips on yours, even if it was just a game, but the memories from a few weeks back flooded his mind and—

“C’mon mate! Go on and kiss the girl!” the guy from earlier encouraged.

Well, why the fuck not?, you both thought at the same time.

Harry crawled to you and you met him halfway, lips clashing with force and desire. His hand made its way to cradle your cheek and part of your neck, guiding the kiss and making you melt into a puddle instantly. Your mouth opened a little more, letting him kiss you deeper and hungrier like no one has ever before. It was absolutely everything you had ever wanted.

And it was everything you couldn’t have.

Parting your lips with your hands on his chest, you felt tears well up in your eyes, and whispered for only you and him to hear,

“This is why the fuck not”

You hurriedly got up as everyone cheered and hooted after the heated show they saw, quickly glancing at Harry but rushing towards the upstairs bathroom.

“Please! Y/N, wait!

Hearing a faint call of your name and footsteps catching up to you, you almost ran for the room you deemed safe. Before going in, however, Harry’s voice made you stop in your tracks.

“Please, please. Please don’t shut me out again, please don’t slam the door”, he begged.

You felt his presence a few feet behind you, the dark hallway only aiding in the tense atmosphere that surrounded you. Not daring to move an inch, the only thing you could do was stare ahead at the shower curtain, your mind going a thousand miles a minute on how anything that happened in the next few moments could make or break you.

A pair of warm, shaky hands found their place on your shoulders, making you tense and then relax as they carefully and lovingly caressed their way down your arms. You felt the ghost of his chest against your back, his breath fanning on your neck and you closed your eyes, savouring the moment but dreading having to face him and look him in the eye. Gently, he grabbed your elbows and turned you to him, still very close to you.

In all honesty, Harry did not have a plan. He ran after you because there was no way he was letting you get away once more, but now that he caught up to you and had you so close to him, he had no clue what to do. His mind had gone blank, the only thing filling it was the image of you. You, whom he had shared so many memories with. You, with the beautiful laugh and crinkly eyes that brought butterflies to his chest every time. You, who never failed to bring happiness into his life, even if you weren’t on the best terms. You, whom he loved so much.

Leaning his forehead against yours, he quietly pleaded one more time, “Please don’t run away from me again”.

“I’m not,” you answered with the same tone, eyes still very much closed.

“You were going to, though”

“I’m sorry”

“Why?” he furrowed his brows.

“For trying to run away”, you answered swiftly to each question, surprisingly. As if all your walls had been brought down just by his simple, loving touch.

“No, why do you keep running away?”

Not so swift anymore, huh?

You stayed silent, not knowing how to answer his question without sounding like a little girl scared of the dark.

“Y/N” he said again, waiting for your answer. His hands moved from your arms to your hands, stopping both pairs from shaking and lightly intertwining your fingers.

You knew you had to come clean. It wasn’t fair to him for you to not give him answers, and not fair to you to keep feeling this angst. So, still very quietly, you answered.

“I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m gonna get hurt if I let you in or that I may hurt you if you let me in. Or both. I care about you so much and I don’t want to ruin our relationship because what we have is great but I also really want to be with you and love you but then I’m also scared because of what I just sai—” your ramble being cut off by Harry’s chapped lips.

His hands held both sides of your face, making you feel secure in his embrace and the soft kiss radiating adoration. He poured everything he felt for you in it, only hoping you could feel it too and that it would bring you out of that fear that had you so trapped in yourself.

He broke the kiss, lightly running his thumb over your cheek and reassuring you immediately.

“With me? Darling, you don’t have to be scared with me. I promise you I feel the exact same way, I love you so much and the last thing I want or will do is hurt you, but I can’t let you get away anymore. I want to make you feel loved and make you feel happy and I want everyone to know you’re mine and that I’m yours. Please let me do that, Y/N. Let me love you the way you deserve to be and I promise you won’t—”

It was you who interrupted him this time. During his small speech, you felt safe enough to open your eyes and see him. You saw the honestly and frustration in his face, desperately wanting you to understand how he felt. It made you realize that you would rather spend a few moments loving each other than the rest of your life watching him with someone else, not knowing what could have been.

“Okay,” you said after parting ways.

“Okay?” he asked you, eyes frantically scanning your features for any sign of doubt or humour.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do it!” you giggled, him mirroring your actions and pulling you into his chest for a tight hug. He buried his face in your hair and yours in his chest, feeling relief course through him at the idea of you being taken by none other than him. Just holding each other, you were about to share another kiss until a random voice interrupted you from behind,

“...can I use the bathroom now?”.

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine #harry holland blurb #harry holland x y/n #harry holland fic #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst #harry holland fanfiction #harry holland one shot #harry holland x you #harry holland imagines #harry holland blurbs #submission

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tethered-heartstrings · 2 years

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Yes, Hugh Dancy is an attractive actor. Everyone on the show is, that’s how movies/TV works. But Will doesn’t need to be conventionally attractive. Hannibal is all about aesthetics. Every aspect of his life is about poise and presentation. His house is immaculate, his office is grand. His suits, his vocabulary, his cooking, his art, his music, his handwriting. Everything about him is about perception, so it is meticulously curtailed. He doesn’t let a single flaw slip through.

Will is the first thing in his life he falls in love with that isn’t “perfect”. His glasses are too small for his face, his shirts are wrinkly, his hair isn’t combed, his tone is short, he at least a little bit smells like dog and old coffee. He showers and does laundry, but when you have that many dogs, stuff just smells like dog. That’s not a bad thing.

Will is attractive because Hugh is attractive. If you put an ordinary looking person in those clothes, most people would not give him a second look. Hannibal sees beyond the outer shell and looks deep into who Will is, and he likes it. It doesn’t matter how he looks, it’s about who Will is and who he could/would become. Dolarhyde calls Will “not very handsome” and the audience is stunned by this because Hugh Dancy is attractive. I think the point is that he’s shocked that someone like Hannibal, an insanely intelligent man bathing in high society, would be so interested in someone like Will, some average looking guy (Will is intelligent, too. But Dolarhyde can’t know that based on a picture). Because on the outside, he is not that interesting. He is not that intriguing. But that stuff doesn’t matter to Hannibal, not when it comes to Will.

Hannibal likes the fucked up, twisted, imperfect darkness inside of Will. There is nothing “pretty” about it. But Hannibal finds beauty in all things. The beauty in Will is so beyond tamed hair and ironed shirts. He rips off a badly-matched tie two seconds after class is over and leaves the top button of his shirts undone so he doesn’t get suffocated. Why would he then revamp his closet so abruptly?

I’m obviously bias towards his clothes in season one. But they are not conventionally fashionable or “attractive”. He’s average. He’s just a dude in flannel and sweaters because its comfortable. That’s it. He’s not trying to impress anyone. He’s a man in his forties who hates eye contact. He’s not trying to woo with aesthetics.

His wardrobe change is technically fine. I just think it was unnecessary. I think we are meant to see his beauty through Hannibal’s lens, as Will learns the same thing. “Hannibal is in love with me?” Yes, sweetie. Put the glasses back on so you can quite literally see all that he loves about you.

#okay to reblog but not open for argument. I just have a lot of thoughts.#like really truly not trying to have a debate about this because its fiction and ultimately does not matter #the theoretical clown #I keep rereading this and not sure it makes any sense but I don't care anymore #the speaking clown #sorry for any typos #this also just reminds me of the post I made about mads/hugh aging and not 'being pretty' anymore and I want to rip my hair out #being pretty is not a requirement. and its subjective as FUCK #season 1 is the only wardrobe that feels in character for will

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variousqueerthings · 3 years

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Daniel LaRusso: A Queer Feminine Fairytale Analysis Part Three of Three

(another massive, massive thank you to @mimsyaf )

part 1

part 2

8. Queerness and femininity and masculinity and the colour red and *record breaks*

If we spin the record aaalll the way back to this paragraph: “…looking at what it is girls and women in fairytales have/don’t have, what they want, and how they’re going to get it. It’s about power (lack of), sexuality (repressed, then liberated), and men.” Reading Daniel as a repressed, bisexual boy in a society that doesn’t accept his desires it’s interesting looking at how he moves through the world of the Miyagi-verse, at how threatened other men are by him, at how obsessed they are with him.

He’s out in the symbolic woods and these large boys and men see him and decide for whatever plot reasons to come for him. And they are large and violent and attractive and apart from Johnny again, they don’t have the nebulous excuse of fighting over a girl and even that excuse dies by around the midpoint when Johnny kisses Ali just to get a rise out of Daniel. He’s not trying to “win her back,” he’s not even really looking at her. He’s just trying to get a reaction. They don’t have any of the fighters in Rocky’s excuse either of Daniel being a macho opponent.

You can read whatever subtext into TKK1 and TKK2 (which becomes especially tempting once CK confirmed that the guys he fought at seventeen have been thinking about him ever since – for thirty-five years), but TKK3 is where it’s really At in terms of obsession and lust and forbidden desires.

Silver is presented as both a handsome prince who saves Daniel and mentors him (where Miyagi is undoubtedly cast in a fatherhood role) and later on becomes twisted into a dark secret that Daniel has to keep, while he turns that thing that Daniel loves (karate, it’s… it’s karate… it’s also men, but it’s definitely karate, because karate makes him feel… things...) into an abusive, violent version of itself.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

But he’s also offering him something liberating. Whatever is going on in that nightclub scene is about something other than breaking Daniel down. Even the bloodied knuckles aren’t just about revenge. It’s about giving him something that he isn’t, in the end, willing to receive, at least not from Silver. In that roundabout, strange way of these feminine fairytales, it’s exploring hidden desires through the metaphor of karate.

Daniel wears red because it’s his colour. In the movies he wears red a lot. Often in scenes with violence in them (the beach/the hilltop in TKK1 and the date/the destruction of the dojo/the final fight in TKK2), but he also has a variety of shirts (and in TKK3 pants) that pop up all the way through the narrative. He wears a red jacket when he accepts Terry’s training, when he punches a guy in the face, and when he tries to get out of the training again (as badly as that goes).

Did anyone consciously think about red’s link to desire, obsession, and violence when they made these? Eh. But is it there symbolically? When he meets Johnny, when he fights Chozen, when he’s in emotionally fraught situations with Terry? Hell yeah.

Probably the most lust-and-violence infused red is that aforementioned punching-board-until-knuckles-bleed bit – not that I thought Terry was going to pull him in for a kiss, because I knew, logically, of course he wouldn’t right? There’s no way… is there? Or later on when Daniel punches that guy and ends up with blood all over his shirt and Terry once more grasps him, euphorically. Blood is violence. Blood is also desire. Red is Daniel’s colour, even though he doesn’t acknowledge it come Cobra Kai. (Maybe he just needs someone else - cough Johnny Lawrence cough - to inspire it in him again).

Daniel LaRusso’s narrative is exploring that most feminine of fairytale tropes: To want and be wanted by monsters and having to hide those desires.

“Maybe this time that strange churning in my stomach that feels like a mix of anticipation and fear will turn out good for me.” - Daniel’s mind.

At the end of the story, Daniel saves himself, with all of the strange mixed narratives around it, and the acknowledgement that the end of The Karate Kid Part Three isn’t satisfying and its aftermath will likely be delved into in the next season of Cobra Kai.

Nevertheless, he saves himself. Not from Silver or Kreese or Barnes, and not entirely, but he makes a decision not to give in to fear (and he continues to try and live by that decision, making it over and over again for the next thirty-five years, even when the return of Cobra Kai makes that difficult for him).

He doesn’t do it by being the strongest in the land or even through a lucky shot (although that too). He does it by refusing to be like the male antagonists that surround him, by telling them they have no power over him. The narrative isn’t just his getting lost in the forest and all the monsters he finds there, it’s about how he redefines power for himself within that forest.

He’s a man who isn’t violent, whose victories include helping out a girl whose ex-boyfriend just broke her radio, successfully doing the moves to a cultural dance he’s trying to learn, sitting with his father figure while he cries over the death of his own father, telling a girl that she’s just made her first friend, and breathing a sigh of relief that a tree that got broken has healed.

Daniel LaRusso is a good boy is the point!

Karate is a metaphor. It can turn into many things: A series of lessons learned about how to be his own man and take care of his own house, a respect for the history of the father teaching him and sharing his home and story with him, fear, desire, masculinity (and the different forms that can take).

When a tall, handsome stranger offers to teach him karate in the dark, without Daniel’s caretaker knowing how to help him, and twists that karate into something that hurts him - when he reclaims that, over and over, that means something too.

This man is fine and definitely isn’t carrying the weight of buried karate-based queer trauma - could a traumatised man do this? *stares blankly at a former tormentor as blood runs down his forehead*

9. In Conclusion Daniel Has Kissed Dudes… Symbolically… But We Can HC Literally:

So there’s Daniel and his coded feminine fairytale narrative. It’s all a series of fun coincidences.

1. Ralph Macchio is just Like That

2. Red. All the red.

3. large portion of his storyline is about lack of power. Yes, he regains that power by the end of the first and second movie through A Fight, but generally he is framed as powerless opposite these almost monstrously physically powerful boys/men. And in the third one it’s barely even about physical prowess (he’d still lose a real fight against Barnes or Silver) and more about regaining lost autonomy off the back of a manipulative, abusive relationship with an older guy.

4. The third movie in particular is narratively a mess, but if reimagined as a fairytale makes a lot of sense (because it’s secretly all about how karate is bisexuality and Daniel gets manipulated through that desire to be better at karate).

5. Queerness and femininity and themes about hidden desires that can only be approached sideways through couching those desires in symbolism: Handshake meme.

6. The fact that the more I think about it, the more feral I am for a Labyrinth AU.

7. To sum up over 5000 words of text: The inherent homoeroticism of wanting to be slammed against a locker by a bully, but extended over three movies and ever-more inventive ways of hurting pretty-boy-Daniel-LaRusso.

Johnny’s not going to be happy when he realises Daniel’s got other ex-rivals buried in his closet...

10. Some Other Stuff Aka The Laziest Referencing I’ll Ever Do

more info below the read-more for bios!

KLIFF: “Hope you’re ready to dive deep into the ground for this one, kids! Because this next star is, quite literally, a hidden gem.”

NAME: Chroma (they/them) AGE: 23 OCCUPATION: NSR Artist, Charter of the Meteo District. PLACE OF CONCERT: Lux Museum GENRE: Artcore (EDM) WEAPON/INSTRUMENT OF CHOICE: Lapid Mining Drones THEME: Qavsell by Feryquitous / ALT: ALiUS by Feryquitous

Chroma is affiliated with NSR, and works as both a EDM musician, artist and lapidary. Many people associate Chroma with the former and latter, which is their music and the beautiful jewelries and gems they craft and refine.

With artcore being a genre that many people don’t know about, Chroma is the same way. Unlike NSR’s Megastars, Chroma prefers to be lowkey, not being the type of person to flaunt themselves. Chroma would rather have their music and jewels be in the light instead of them.

As a person, Chroma is very quiet yet kind. They tend to keep to themselves, engaging in conversations with strangers for a short period of time. They are extremely passionate about lapidation and art, and will go on semi-long talks about their interests if presented with the opportunity. They are also humble, not wanting to bask in the limelight for too long. They treat everyone they see with silent kindness, and it is not uncommon to see Chroma spend more time with their AI drones and Vesta. However, should Chroma see anyone laying their hands on their bots or attempting to hurt them, Chroma’s mood will shift and they will aggressively protect them.

As a boss, Chroma is a long-range attacker, utilizing mirrors, light-rays, prisms and their mining drones (Barringer, Holsinger) to fire beams of light and bright flashes to attack and stun their opponents. Chroma will often maintain their distance from BBJ, dodging swiftly and running to the other side of the arena when presented with the chance. Once attacked enough, Chroma will “crack,” shifting to become hysteric and their form will transform into something more sharper and hardened. They will drop their long distance attacks and lash at their opponents with claw-like hands, or charge at them with their horn-like headgear. Their drones will also activate into “mining mode,” spinning like drills, swiftly honing in and flying at BBJ to attack them.

EXTRA 1: Chroma names all of the drone AIs. Their main drones that stay by their sides are Barringer (white) and Holsinger (black). They also chose the name for Vesta.

EXTRA 2: the horns on Chroma’s head are not permanent. They are removable, worn like head-gear, and is used to relay messages to and from their drones. Their headgear also comes with an ear-piece, which is worn in Chroma’s hidden ear.

EXTRA 3: Chroma looks up to Eve as a fellow artist and admires her work, often visiting the Evenfall Gallery on their free time.

EXTRA 4: Chroma is secretly a fan of SAYU and 1010.

KLIFF, AFTER BBJ RETURNS FROM METEO: “You say you fought a robot in Chroma’s district, huh? That’s funny, I don’t have anything about a ‘strange 1010′ written in my notes. Then again, Meteo isn’t a place I visit everyday.”

NAME: J7 “VESTA” (he/him) AGE: ? OCCUPATION: Meteo District’s Head of Security, Chroma’s companion and overseer of the mines. PLACE OF CONCERT: Lux Museum GENRE: ????/EDM WEAPON/INSTRUMENTS OF CHOICE: BIORUS Stinger, titanium drill legs. THEME: SECRET BOSS by Camellia

Formerly known as J7, Vesta is a repurposed and customized 1010 robot who serves as many things within Meteo, with his primary role being Chroma’s bodyguard. Though he and Chroma are close, their relationship can hardly be called romantic. The two share a mutualistic bond over similarities (not in appearance) and the need to protect one another. Chroma is fragile yet wants to keep Vesta safe, whereas Vesta is dangerous to everyone around him, including himself.

Due to glitches in his system from a virus that could not be fully removed in time, he had to be put out of commission. Said glitches from the virus’s remaining effects include:

The inability to fully form his left iris (iris lens expansion causes further glitches and hinders eye movement, thus perpetually stuck in its shrunken form).

The inability to sing and dance like the current builds of 1010.

Glitching caused by the virus’s aftermath. This causes his mind to fragment, and the glitch lasts longer the more intense of an emotion he feels. If he is in close contact with other robots or electronics, one touch can instantly cause them to glitch*, malfunction or even deactivate for a short period of time. If not careful, he can shut down power-grids (this has happened once before, and Chroma knew immediately to ask for Neon J to upgrade their district’s network/systems to prevent a shutdown from ever happening again).

*There is a unique event that comes when Vesta is in close contact with another robot. Should he glitch while feeling intense emotions, he has the ability to project his glitches through contact (via hands, stinger). This will allow whoever he touches (given that they must be a bot) to feel what he feels, only for a short moment.

As a person, despite his appearance, Vesta is very self-conscious. He feels his sheer height may intimidate many, when that doesn’t end up being the case. Non-district visitors may recognize him as a 1010, which causes him to become anxious and overwhelmed. As he was upgraded and customized to Chroma’s likeness, Neon J activated him in Meteo upon Chroma’s request as to not attract attention near the other districts when he would awaken. He has never once come into contact with 1010, only seeing them on giant screens and billboards. Each time he sees them, he feels a strange aching sensation in his robotic core that tells him he should be like them...

As a boss, Vesta is extremely protective of Chroma. During the initial battle against Chroma, Vesta will swoop in before BBJ can finish them off. Seeing Chroma hurt puts Vesta into a glitched rage, causing his system to go into SECURITY MODE. He will then utilize his BIORUS Stinger to attack his opponents, which can extend like a scorpion’s tail. Like Chroma’s mining drones, he has the ability to transform his legs into drills, charging at BBJ with flying kicks and sometimes spinning and attempting to hit them. Like SAYU’s last form/Yinu’s last segment, his battle is a short one, if dodged and timed right. He will experience another malfunction due to his intense emotions, and can be knocked out when he is frozen in place trying to control himself.

EXTRA 1: Vesta was originally a J7 unit, which was supposed to be an indigo color. Due to Neon J later on limiting 1010 to five members, he had to scrap them.

EXTRA 2: Originally, Chroma went to Baracca mansion to ask Neon J for software upgrades for Barringer and Holsinger. While waiting, Chroma stumbled upon a powered down J7 and asked if they could have it. J7 told them that specific bot was off for good reasons, but with much insisting, Neon gave in to Chroma’s pleas, and even gave in to customizing J7 to Chroma’s liking (this resulted in Chroma paying J back by giving him any gem/metal materials he may need to fix/upgrade his own robots).

EXTRA 2.5: Chroma had the intent to have Vesta be customized to match them in some form (horns, diamond pupil, duo-toned palette).

#no straight roads #nsr #no straight roads oc #nsr oc #nsr ocs #1010 oc #kura draws #yeah you could say i spent a long time writing about vesta #oc #ocs #origi #SLIGHTLY #listen man........ i love 1010......... i make a 1010 oc boy bc why not :)#long post //#chroma #vesta

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strandedcrow · 3 years

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thoughts on the glass animals album dreamland? (info dump welcome)

YES hi hello thank you

I talked like,, a lot so I’m sparing y'all with a cut

The album itself is just so well organized and executed it’s insane. The entire album just captures the feeling of taking a nostalgic trip through your own life and the way that it ends up forgotten in a way, sickly sweet and vague, subdued, and so easy to get completely lost in. And part of what makes it so well done is the pure authenticity it’s completely drenched in. The album itself didn’t exist until quarantine hit, they had been taking a break after a band member was injured and had to recover, and that isolation had that same impact on them as it did on most of us, and the result was this extremely genuine album embodying nostalgia itself.

As a band they’ve always done such an incredible job of maintaining a theme throughout their album that is consistent without becoming repetitive. The song Dreamland does such a perfect job of pulling you into the album, easing you into a subdued album, fuzzy around the edges but clear once you can hone in on the details, on what’s being said, perfectly reflective of the theme it’s introducing you to. While it’s doing that it’s also providing a smooth shift from the last song on the album before it, HTBAHB. Agnes leaves that album off on such an extremely a somber, desperate, and lost note, which Dreamland picks up, just as lost in itself, taking off so beautifully from Agnes’ “You’re gone but you’re on my mind, I’m lost but I don’t know why,” and getting into the why. But it does so by warning you first, “You see in kodachrome, you see in pink and gold.” This album is distorted, it’s not right, the colors are wrong and everything is sweeter than it should be. At the same time, it sets up for the songs to follow, like “That worst thing you said” for It’s All So Incredibly Loud and “You were ten years old, holding hands in the classroom, he had a gun on the first day of high school” for Space Ghost Coast to Coast.It’s those vague, unconnected memories that you haven't quite grasped onto yet in full, but you know you’re going to get lost in them once you do. You’re stepping back from the overload of information and action today to visit who you used to be and what made you who you are now.

Right after it, Tangerine does something that Life Itself did for HTBAHB, it smoothened the general sound’s transition between albums. Just as Life Itself, with its beat similar to the album before its own could have fit into ZABA with no issue, Tangerine could have been on HTBAHB without disrupting the album. The “retro” vibe, the themes revolving around both the nostalgia of Dreamland and those of past relationships deteriorating because of missed opportunities and growing apart fits so well into both albums, it’s such a great transition from the past album to the current. The “I’m begging, hands knees please, tangerine” is also a common expression used (often as a double entendre) by them, again like in Life Itself, with its chorus being “Come back down to my knees, gotta get back, gotta get free, come back down to my knees, lean back now, lean back and breathe,” which just sets up for a really smooth callback to previous songs and album. Something else that Tangerine establishes is something that’s been a running theme with Glass Animals since ZABA: fruit. There is a lot of fruit here. It used to be a running joke that Glass Animals wasn’t actually a band, but a cryptic pineapple worshipping cult (no amount of music made will fool me, this is definitely a pineapple cult). This album uses fruit to remind you of the sugary sweetness of nostalgia, but there’s more history and, well, fan specific nostalgia that goes with that metaphor, too.

Hot Sugar is similar to a later song, Waterfalls Coming Out Your mouth, in that it’s about someone who is so cool that they aren’t actually cool. The person isn’t genuine, the idea of them isn’t actually them, but this was someone that you still want to be anyways, because who wouldn’t want to be that cool? The song doesn’t have much deeper meaning underlying it compared to some other’s because that depth doesn’t exist here, with this person. You know they’re “faking it,” but it doesn’t really matter beyond deciding if you actually like them or if you just want to be them, and the answer is the latter. This song is also similar to another, later song, Tokyo Drifting, introducing the listener to this person that he wants to be like, referencing “Hot rubber on the tar,” and setting the stage for the later song to tell you more about what he wanted to be like. Also, once again, through a mention of watermelon, fruit continues to be a recurring theme in the earlier tracks on this album, when the trip through nostalgic memories is still more sweet than bitter.

Right after we get introduced to this idea of who he wanted to be, we move onto what became of someone he knew closely, shared a lot with, and very suddenly lost touch with through Space Ghost Coast to Coast. The music itself is reminiscent of the music he listened to at the time. This song, being a telling of something that actually happened, is so authentic and raw in how it ends up, all still told through the layer of confusion, hurt, and again, that sweetness of nostalgia, with “You look bizarre in the apricot” establishing a deceptively sweet but confused tone over something heavy through yet another fruit metaphor. This song also manages to hit on other songs from the album when he tries to delve into why his friend did what he did, “Were you bored of gender norms,” matching with Dreamland’s “Go ask your questions like “What makes a man?”,” “… of being alone,” matching Heat Waves’ “I don’t wanna be alone, you know it hurts me too,” and “… no mama home, a bad divorce” matching pretty much the entirety of Domestic Bliss. Like Hot Sugar, this song sets up for Tokyo Drifting, with his idea of who he wants to be but isn’t, with “Remember when you stole mom’s old Geo Metro, you wore her old bathrobe, too small to see the road.” There’s also more blatant references being made to both past shooters (Black cap back with a trench coat, ay) and the arguments afterwards of what motivated them (Playing too much of that GTA, playing too much of that Dr. Dre). While he still wants to understand his old friend, and what happened for him to change so abruptly and dangerously, he does not want anything to do with him anymore. It’s a song about a loss of innocence and the understanding that sometimes you just won’t understand why someone does something. It’s just a complete banger in general.

Which then takes us to Tokyo Drifting, which absolutely slaps. The song itself revolves around what he wanted to be like, singing from a new persona rather than his own (Cane Suga from HTBAHB was done through the same persona). It breaks the pattern of referencing to fruit, instead focusing on drugs and alcohol, dropping the sickly sweet lens of nostalgia for something more fitting of the song’s specific theme. Don’t worry, though, dragonfruit was used extremely heavily in this songs promotion as a single, so the fruit is still there, just not directly, and that lack of directly referring to a fruit in the song itself fits with the way that the song breaks from nostalgia of things that have happened and people he knew into something that was never real. There is no rose colored glasses needed for something that never even happened. I don’t have much else to say on it, it just goes hard, this was my most listened to song two years in a row lmao.

Melon and the Coconut is just sheer Glass Animals. It’s weird, it’s fun, and it sounds great. It cleanly splits the album in half, splitting the POV’s straight down the middle while making a reference to its own position in the album, “Sometimes B-sides are the best songs.” Needless to say, there are some super subtle references to fruit in Melon and the Coconut, the song about two fruit.

Then, the second half of the album kicks off with Your Love (Deja Vu), a song extremely similar in theme to previous songs about missed timing, like ZABA’s Pools and HTBAHB’s Pork Soda. Instead of fruit, “juice” is mentioned in this song. It takes the turn from thinking about people you were friends with, what you wanted to be like, to people that you were with, and things that just didn’t work out.

And then there’s Waterfalls Coming Out Your Mouth. It’s such a clean parallel to looking back on things with nostalgia and seeing them through the fake sweetness that time brings, with this song being about the rose colored glasses that were present in the moment, the time when you start getting to know someone but you aren’t actually getting to know them, you’re getting to know this other, more impressive version of them instead, and they get the exact same experience of you on their own end. He’s letting this other person have their own version of him while he has his own version of them in his head, and he knows their version of him is wrong, so he also knows whatever he thinks of them is going to be wrong, too. He knows them, but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s realizing here, that this person, like the Hot Sugar person, is too cool, and they aren’t real, it’s all just talk, and it’s all fake like the “chemical warfare, red lips and television eyewear, raspberry soda hair, in the pool with a blow up gummy bear.” It’s sweet, sure, but it’s also fake. “Chat shit but where’s the real you? Never seen The Price Is Right, I’m a liar been on that shit since ’99. You make me look like a clown, clap clap, you’re a clever clever cookie now” has no right go that hard, and yet it Does.

Then, abruptly, we get to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. The song itself is subdued, it’s that point in your trip through your own memories where you remember why things went wrong. You get shaken from your train of thought and lose your place in it, because you aren’t there anymore, you’re here and you can’t go back, you can’t fix anything, all that’s left for you to do now is mourn the wrongs and accept them, even though its painful. This is remembering what Dreamland meant by “That worst thing you said,” the realization that you have to break someone else’s heart, and how much that hurts.

((home movie: rockets)) is the longest home movie audio in the album, and creates a smooth transition back into childhood, journeying back through a sound similar to that of their first album, ZABA, on the way there for the album to transition into Domestic Bliss. This time, with someone else entirely’s perspective falling back onto knees, but this time under an entirely different tone, “Fight for me. We can leave I’m begging, please, on my on my knees.” These two songs back to back continue the downward spiral that too much nostalgia can leave you falling into, the wrongs, the regrets, this trip down memory lane has lasted too long, now.

Which drops us off at Heat Waves, which returns back to his own perspective after Domestic Bliss focused on a friend of his. It fits the bittersweet feeling in nostalgia, the understanding and acceptance that you can’t go back, you just have to keep going forward and separate instead for everyone’s sake, a followup less to the tangent in thought that is Domestic Bliss, and more to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. It also wraps up those previous album’s songs, Pools and Pork Soda in a way, bringing a sense of closure to the nostalgic feelings, as well as to the entire album.

And finally Helium, the bookend opposite to Dreamland. This song flawlessly embodies that feeling of when you realize you’ve just been sitting and staring at a photo album for an hour now, and you finally take a look around you, feeling the air conditioning on your skin, hearing the sounds of the world around you, snapping back out of your train of thought and into real life again. Things didn’t work the way that you used to think they would, but that’s a good thing. It is such a perfect ending to the nostalgic journey that is this entire album. Fading back into the melody that started this journey of sickly sweet memories of people you looked up to, when you learned for the first time that people can change and you might not ever understand why, ideas of who you once wanted to be, finding something light that you can laugh about, realizing how similar so many things in your life have been to each other, the realization that the people you used to look up to might not have actually been that impressive the whole time, your regrets, times you wish you could have done more, and the understanding that sometimes you shouldn’t have done so much.

I love this album so much man

#hi glass an/imals is my favroite band i have listened to them since 2013 and i love them thank u amen #ask #anon

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canmom · 3 years

Text

Animation Night 64: Macross

Tonight’s Animation Night hits a power of 2... which means it’s surely an apt time for giant robots! I figured that it would be a good time to check out a series with a looming reputation which I’ve yet to sample... Super Dimension Fortress Macross.

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Macross is one of your old guard long-running mecha series, dating back to 1982 - not quite so prolific as Gundam, but definitely one of the heavyweights from that era. The product of Studio Nue, a team already well-respected for their design work on early mecha shows like Yamato and Gundam, Macross struck out in an unusual direction by framing its plot around the cross-cultural emotional power of pop music.

But what made it really stand out, at least if you ask a sakuga fan, was Ichirō Itano.

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Itano is a fascinating guy: he. In terms of our sakuga history, he’s one of those early ‘charisma animators’ to get a personal reputation, and he was indeed directly inspired by Kanada (whose work we saw a couple weeks ago). His hallmark, as Sean Bires describes in that video, was an ingenious understanding of 3D space - getting the camera right up into the action, crossing over between different scales with the kind of shot that only animation can do: the camera flying from a closeup of the pilot in the cockpit of a spaceship out to a long dramatic shot of a battle, using changes of lens angle etc. to push the intensity further.

And more specifically, he created one of anime’s most enduring motifs: the Itano Circus. You’ve probably seen this kind of shot homaged in dozens of different shows: something shoots out a huge swarm of missiles (or magic rays, tentacles, etc.), and they arc and twist all around the camera before closing in on their target. Famously, the story goes that Itano devised this trick by strapping a bunch of fireworks to his motorbike and igniting them - and the experience of of moving in the middle of the swarm of fireworks as they floated around him in every direction affected him so profoundly that he was determined to capture it in animation.

And he sounds like a real character, too:

I’m pretty sure Ichiro Itano is going to punch me in the face.

It’s hard to tell, because I have a pair of opera glasses strapped to my head, the wrong way round, so that everything looks as if I am staring at it down the wrong end of a telescope. But in the round window of my vision, I very clearly see the director of Gantz, his hair tied back in a ponytail, his wiry muscles rippling under a khaki vest, hauling back his arm and then lurching right at me.

His fist speeds into view, looming huge in the frame. His arm seems to trail behind it for an impossible distance, while his hand blocks the entirety of my view. I stumble backwards, expecting a blow at any moment, but Itano has deliberately fallen a couple of inches short.

“Ha!” he says. “See? That’s what the world looks like if you’re the pilot of a giant robot! You’re looking through a viewscreen, you see. You’re not using your real eyes, you’re using a camera! And so, when we show a pilot’s-eye view in an anime show, we shoot it the way that a camera would see it!”

Although this story is told often, the inspiration to do such a thing isn’t mentioned - but apparently it was driven by a scene in Android Kikaider where a guy shoots a rocket from a motorbike. Funny coincidence with this week’s toku tuesday...

By the time of Macross, Itano had honed his particular style on classic Sunrise shows like the original Gundam and especially Space Runaway Ideon. Let me spare a few words about Ideon, incidentally - although somewhat overshadowed by Gundam, to its fans, Ideon is adored for its especially nihilistic tone: Gundam creator Yoshiyuki Tomino’s disgust with war manifesting in a series of abrupt and brutal deaths of every beloved character.

Sadly, it’s one I can’t really figure out how to cram into Animation Night: the compilation film is said to cut so much as to be markedly inferior to the series, there is a span of about 20 episodes that never made it into a film, and without the effort to get attached to the characters, the final film doesn’t feel like it would deliver in the same way.

Like who’s this girl? I bet if I knew, I’d be like oh god no...

Anyway, as far as ppl like Itano were concerned, Ideon was his opportunity to hone the ethos developed in Gundam into something more concrete, and redefine how mecha battles would be framed in film. But his project really reached fruition in Macross.

So what’s this all in service of? The narrative of Macross concerns an invasion by aliens called the Zentradi, an engineered warrior species who, unmoored from their creators, mindlessly conquer without any meaningful culture. Humanity only stands a chance thanks to one of the first idols in anime, Linn Minmay, whose music throws the Zentradi into confusion and leads some of them to defect. This leads to a whole sprawling series of robot battles, love triangles, and extensive discussion of soft power.

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Or at least, so I’m advised by youtube user Zeria, who provides one of the few attempts I’ve encountered to break it down on a thematic level. In their words, its thesis could be taken as:

Hard power is necessary, vital, and ultimately moral, but it’s soft power that will always win the day, and as a result, it’s imperative that a benevolent state wields both.

So where does this fit in, historically? We’ve talked before about the massive societal transformations taking place in 80s Japan when we watched Akira. We could maybe say that in such conditions, in which the nation-entity called “Japan” was suddenly becoming one of the economically powerful players within the American cold war bloc, was facing a question of how it should use that power. And we could tie that into subsequent developments - indeed, while no aliens ignorant of music have shown up, the seemingly eternal right-wing government has attempted to direct soft power in its interests with policies like “Cool Japan”.

Zeria argues that, while the cut corners of the original TV production undermine its ability to push this theme, the first summary movie Do You Remember Love does an exceptional job of pushing its ‘yay soft power’ theme on a formal level:

...this move successfuly demonstrates in full the power of the culture it comes from. Every frame of this movie bombards the viewer with peak 80s Japanese aesthetics, begging them to agree that the economic rise of the nation is a good thing. (...)

That said, the film’s quality is only able to emerge from a unique point in time, a period when it was far easier for those in Japan to have faith that culture would inevitably win the day. It was a time where the widespread anxiety that Japan would ultimately overtake the West still had purchase in the minds of ordinary people, leading to the rise of cyberpunk. For a culture like that, the use of military might as a protective deterrent, with culture being the real showshopper, was not a strange idea.

I feel like the interplay between cultural productions like this and nationalist projects is not something I address really often enough on Animation Night posts (usually because I don’t start these soon enough to really get into that thorny subject). I certainly don’t think most anime producers are particularly strong nationalists, and many of them may be fiercely critical of Japan, the industry, capitalist system etc. ... but the existence of even subversive artworks attaches itself to the big ball of psychic imaginary force that is “a nation exists and is ‘like this’”, playing out in all sorts of ways in the behaviour of humans. For the kind of artist who hates her country and wishes to see it destroyed, how do you even sidestep that?

Well, I don’t know how to answer that, and in any case if I can trust Zeria, the creators of Macross had largely the opposite aim in mind. Fuckers. Let’s return to the robots... The robots of Macross are an early real-robot iteration on the ‘transforming robot’ concept: ‘variable fighters’ which can alternate between humanoid and fighter jet forms.

Though I linked this article by Sean O’Mara on the series’s robot design earlier, let’s talk more about it. The big names for Macross’s distinctive design language is Shoji Kawamori, who was there when the original Gundam developed the ‘real robot’ idea of mecha as simply being military equipment rather than mechanical superheroes. Kawamori, while competing with fellow Nue member Kazukaka Miyatake to design robots for a show called Genocidus (o.O steady on there), got the idea for a robot with "backwards” digitigrade legs after observing skiiers on a slope.

The concepts for Macross - a giant transforming space fortress, carrying a lot of smaller transforming space fighters inside it, slowly developed over other cancelled projects such as Battle City Megaroad. Part of the friction with the original Genocidus concepts was the difficulty of producing toys (the toy company apparently saying ‘make a humanoid robot, even if it just stands there), but it was also toy design that led to the return to this concept in Macross: it was easier to build a plane with drop down legs than a fully jointed figure.

One of Macross’ mechanical strengths was its variety, the result of the two talented designers working on it. While Kawamori focused on the svelte and aerodynamic VF-1, Miyatake created a range of designs from the chunky, non-transformable destroids that served as cannon fodder, to the show’s numerous spaceships.

Well, both the Super Dimension Fortress and Do You Remember Love proved major successes, and Macross was set to follow Gundam become a lasting giant robot franchise with multiple iterations slotting into a grander meta-series. The series was re-edited and dubbed for Americans under the title Robotech in 1985, alongside two other mecha anime, Super Dimension Cavalry Southern Cross and Genesis Climber MOSPEADA. But that’s all I’m going to say about that.

The next Macross entry, Flash Back 2012, is generally not so well remembered: an early OVA that relied heavily on recut footage and had a relatively thin narrative - though O’Mara makes a case for it. Another OVA sequel, Lovers Again, was made without the involvement of the original creators at Studio Nue, and would later be quietly dropped from continuity. It’s not until the 1990s that we get the next major entry into the series, the four episode OVA Macross Plus, which would then get recut into a movie with some extra reanimated footage.

If the original Macross was rooted in the capitalist optimism of the 80s, Plus has to adapt to the collapse of the bubble and the ‘lost decade’ of the 90s. How does it do that? ...uh well, I don’t actually have a handy video essay to tell me what to think on this one.

Hmm. Casting around. Hey, here’s someone’s thesis. ...OK, they go through this entire writeup without talking about prior Macross films, rather mostly drawing contrast with Akira and GitS, so I don’t know how far I can use this. (Reminds me that I still need to do some kind of writing poking into all the different flavour of GitS adaptation...) Also they totally missed what makes Tetsuo so great. Nevertheless, the major point raised by this article, which does seem to contrast to what we just claimed about SDF and DYRL, is an image of “statelessness” that’s created by... giving it a mostly American setting. I’m not convinced on that basis.

But it does connect us to the new director who appears at this point in Macross’s history... Shinichirō Watanabe, who would a few years later gain massive fame outside of Japan with works like Cowboy Bebop and Samurai Champloo - someone for whom heavy use of western and especially American cultural signifiers is, like, his entire main thing. So perhaps they’re onto something after all. How does this fit into a whole dialogue on states and soft/hard power proposed by Zeria? I don’t think I have enough information to say.

Instead, let’s talk about the premise. Macross Plus is set on a colony planet called Eden, focusing on a contest between two rival test pilots who find their future in the next generation of ‘variable fighters’ is threatened by a new AI-controlled fighter design. Only, that makes it vulnerable to, well, what if your AI super-idol goes evil and steals your slick new jet fighter? On a metaphorical level, I think I can imagine where we’re going with this.

The way @mogsk introduced me to this one, it sounds like Itano managed to outdo himself yet again on the animation department... I seriously cannot wait for the sakuga feast we have in mind. On that front, Macross Plus is the source of another incredible Itano anecdote:

“Let me put it like this,” he says. “There’s this flight school in America run by retired air force pilots. They’ll give you one lesson in really fast English, and one safety demonstration, and then they’ll take you up to 10,000 metres. You have a co-pilot, but he leaves it to you once you’re up. So it was me and Shoji Kawamori, in jets, ready for a dogfight. All as part of the research for Macross Plus. I wanted to know what it was like to fly a plane, to be in aerial combat, and I was curious about G-force.

“Each plane had a laser pointer, and if you could keep the enemy in your sights for three seconds, you scored a hit. So we started the dogfight, chasing our tails. I scored six hits on Kawamori. He was all over the place, but I was really good!

“So after all that, I decided: ‘I’ve done the dogfight. Let’s faint.’ So I grabbed the joystick and pulled right back on it. I heard the pilot shouting ‘Itano! Itano-san! Mr Itano! NO! Stop!’ and the G-force pushed me back in the seat. I felt my head lolling and then there was black. I’d blacked out, and it was like someone had pulled the plug on a computer.

Upon landing, he was taken aside and told to draw storyboards for a blackout scene.

Plus would soon be followed by a long-running TV series Macross 7, with its own films; then as we hit the 2000s we get a whole cornucopia of prequels, interquels, videogame spinoffs et cetera to celebrate various anniversaries. I have no ability to tell you which ones are notable or good - should we find ourselves enjoying Macross, perhaps we could pick out a few somewhere down the line.

As for Itano, Gen Urobuchi apparently relates that after a motorbike accident that injured his hand, Itano was no longer able to paint (I presume they mean draw keyframes?), and turned his efforts to directing and training new animators instead. In this role, he directed a number of very gory OVA projects like Battle Royal High School (the source of one of my favourite clips, I must watch the whole thing some time), and adapted Go Nagai in Violence Jack: Evil Town and the first anime take on Gantz - I can’t say if it’s a great adaptation, but the manga, for all its flaws and questionable narrative decisions, does hold a certain place in my heart as one of the first really edgy gory mangas I read.

Perhaps another one of these nights we can check out Itano-the-director. What I hear about these projects is that they’re extremely uneven: often cutting corners with photography in many cuts, but with a few really unique and groundbreaking scenes every now and then.

Unfortunately, Itano also takes the blame for directing and and co-writing Angel Cop, a late 80s-early 90s series about an extrajudicial police unit fighting communists which somehow abruptly swerves into cartoonishly nonsensical antisemitic conspiracy theory. I have no way to explain that; the best that can be said is that it was a complete turkey, with Itano’s name being the only reason it is remembered at all.

Macross is definitely one of the big holes in my knowledge of classic 80s anime, and from the sound of it, it’s going to be a great time and maybe provoke some kind of interesting discussions. Or maybe we’ll just meme, you never know. In any case, tonight, my plan is to show the Do You Remember Love film, and then the ‘movie edition’ of Plus. I may also try to find some clips from Ideon that show Itano’s development. Animation Night 64 is starting at 7pm UK time at twitch.tv/canmom - see you there!

#animation night #macross #ichirō itano

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tigerdrop · 3 years

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going insane after the knife scene in the latest chapter, absolute frothing at the mouth, i didnt even know it was possible to get slapped with a new kink that quickly

^q^

Your Welcome. i am beyond thrilled that this is the part thats sticking with people the most.....thats what i was hoping for. i dont think itd really be a Tigerdrop Special(tm) if there wasnt something viciously horny in it

for anybody whos interested: i put a lot of thought into this chapter and this scene in particular. and ive jotted down some of those thought processes under the cut. i care way too fucking much about hlvrai and it shows

i was thinking to myself like........hes been too nice lately. i gotta figure out a way to bridge the gap btwn "goofy little guy whos just trying to help his best bud through the game" and "terrifying big bad who genuinely freaks the shit out of gordon because hes under the impression that this is just a game". but mostly b/c i needed to find someway to help them along to the extremely self-indulgent rewrite of the public bathroom skit without benreys particular Demeanor in that scene coming out of nowhere

there is just like. so much going on in that intro commentary. emotionally speaking. theres a lot of set up going into getting them from point A to point B, okay

to me the bathroom skit is fundamental in terms of, like, establishing a really specific tone of their relationship. like, it is more complicated than just "silly guy gives gordon a hard time and makes goofs", you know? i think that when most people look at their interactions this is all they see, b/c theyre watching Best Of compilations or the same few redrawn scenes or fanon "wacky found family" stuff. but the thing that is really compelling about benrey as an antagonist is that he is unpredictable, and more importantly, he is really fucking mean and unsettling when he wants to be

but Most importantly, that skit establishes that not only is he mean, not only is he unnerving, and not only is he prone to giving their interactions a sexual undercurrent, but that gordon is Willing To Reciprocate. its all fucking flustered laughter and play-fighting on his part! the skit deliberately plays up how fuckin creepy benrey is with the horror music sting and all that shit, but like, the reaction that gordon gives him is not one of somebody who is sick of his shit. it is of somebody who is Playing Along

given that this comes after the events of the payday stream, this makes sense. that stream, in my opinion, gave their relationship a lot of really fun developments: benreys a lot meaner now, having already had his heel turn, but hes not The Bad Guy(tm) anymore so the tone of his interactions with gordon is a lot more.....playful. light-hearted. gordon is no longer viewing his actions thru the lens of "This Is My Story-Mandated Antagonist who is hounding me for Villain Reasons", but more like, "this is a fellow player who i dont really care for". in particular, the bit with benrey chasing gordon with a knife really sells this. benreys not The Bad Guy anymore, so its not a big deal! its just jokes! laughs!

HOWEVER. in co-op game theory, the payday stream never happened! gordon went straight from the end of hlvrai to the beginning of hl2vrai. which means that i have to do all that relationship development my own dang self

and it has to be flavored differently, too, b/c the setting of the payday stream is a lot more fantastical and light-hearted and overtly video game-y. but in co-op game theory, i am making a pretty big fucking deal of the fact that gordons stuck in a grim setting with painful consequences. and ive been playing a lot with just how porous the barrier is between "this is just a game" and "this is a thing that feels real and has real consequences" that hlvrai itself sets up in act 3, what with the whole "getting his arm cut off" thing. in the payday stream, they just kind of get shot at over and over again to no effect, nothing really has any weight to it, its borderline dreamlike, and so that lends itself to interactions like "benrey chasing gordon with a knife" being given this really gay "teehee omg nooo stoppitttt" flavor.

but you cant get to the whole "chasing gordon with a knife is just a goofy and fun moment with his best frenemy" thing without establishing that, between gordon and benrey in this setting, the one in co-op game theory, the rules are different for those two. gordon getting shot by the bad guys hurts, here! it hurts real bad! but with benrey, it doesnt, because hes operating on purely video game rules. cartoon character rules. you can get that kind of dreamlike, cartoony shenanigan-style chemistry between them by making it so that, when benreys chasing him with the knife (metaphorical or literal) he is choosing to make the consequences go away.

[the cool and fun part about that, i think, is that in this setting we have now established that benrey can turn it off. if he wanted. so now theres that lingering undercurrent of "okay but what if this time its for real. what if he gets bored. what if he forgets that gordons just a guy for a little too long. whats keeping him from doing exactly that"]

between them, the kind of tom-and-jerry shit that would ordinarily put gordons life in very real danger no longer does, because benrey is setting a boundary, so to speak, that this is a game. a funny little game just for them. and so gordon can learn to Play Along. point A -> point B.

its not exactly a 1:1 imitation of what develops btwn them in the payday stream b/c this is a different fucking thing but now hopefully u see what i mean. This is an insane amount of words. Sorry

#writin stuff

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dreamer213 · 3 years

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Broken Machines: Lights The Dark

Chapter 8: The Charming Things You Say

Penny was feeling uneasy as she finished up her patrol and began her walk to the station. She had brought up what had happened at the end of her lesson to her dad during dinner that night and expressed her confusion with Whitley’s shift in tone. Once she repeated what she’d said about Weiss and Winter her dad told her that she may have unknowingly brought up some bad feelings for him. When Penny questioned how she had done so Pietro just said “ Well how would you feel if you spoke to one of my colleagues and they only know you were my child but because they found out on their own and not because I told them?”. She thought about it a moment and the idea that her own dad, her only family, would not speak about her to his colleagues made her feel so sad and unloved. He then asked her how she thinks Whitley must have felt actually hearing that and she’s felt absolutely horrible ever since. How could she not have notice how cruel her statements had been. Before she had just thought it was odd that she had never heard about him but after seeing his reaction and her dad’s explanation the truth of the situation was all too obvious.

She was still thinking about during the train ride and in the car on her way to the manor. By the time she was at the main entrance and being lead to a lounge room by a maid, Yuko, she gone over dozens of possible apologizes in her head, trying to come up with something to convey how sorry she was about her callous words. She was determined to make things right but she just couldn’t find the right words to say for something like this. She’s still contemplating when she enters the lounge room where Whitley was sitting on the sofa, waiting for her.

Whitley: Good afternoon Ms. Polendina.

Penny: Good afternoon.

There tense in the air as Penny takes a seat at the other end of the sofa, placing her belongings down by her feet, and pulling out the notepad and pen.

Whitley: Ready to continue from yesterday’s session?

Penny: Yes.

Whitley: Alright then, Rule Number 6, when confronted with someone who’s been continuously rude towards you walk away towards the nearest group of people socializing. If the person persist when they get close question them on why they’re following you and polity ask them to stop. Do this loudly enough that people around you hear. Don’t shout, speak clearly, keep your pitch at a normal range but increase your volume. The negative attention the statement will draw towards them should be enough to get them to walk away. Rule Number 7, never interrupt someone, especially when in a group conversation, wait until they’ve completely finished their story or statement then chime in at the first opportunity. Rule Number 8, take a few breaks during longer events like galas or evening parties. If you chat for too long you’ll seem like a gossiper or just plain nosey. Granted there are people known for that sort of behavior in high society but they’re usually more infamous then famous for it. Now this last rule is of a topic of its own all will most likely take up the rest of-

Suddenly Whitley’s scroll rings. He pulls it out and looks at caller id, it’s Octavia.

Whitley: Excuse me for a moment, I have to take this.

He gets and walk out of the room leaving Penny and Yuko alone. Penny looks around and tweedles her fingers still thinking about how to go about apologizing as Yuko watches over her.

Yuko: Would you like to watch some television while you wait for The Young Master to return?

Penny: Hmm, oh no thank you I’m fine.

Yuko: Then would you like some refreshments? Perhaps some tea and cookies?

Penny: No I don’t need anything but thank you for offering Yuko.

Yuko: Of course Ms. Polendina, please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.

Penny thinks for a moment, Yuko was one of the manor maids and had probably work at the manor for some time if she was assigned to watch over a session. So maybe she knew more about the situation with the siblings and could help her try and fix her mistake.

Penny: Actually, there is something I’d like to ask you.

Yuko: Yes?

Penny: How long have you work at the manor?

Yuko: Five years and seven months. Why do you ask?

Penny: I just wanted to know if you knew anything about the relationship between Whitley, Weiss, and Winter.

Yuko’s eyes go wide for a moment, she hangs her head and takes a few deep breaths before answering.

Yuko: That is a very Very touchy subject, so much so that the Master has forbidden the staff to even mention his daughters’ names unprompted, less they be fired immediately.

Penny: And Whitley?

Yuko: As far as I know Young Master and his elder sisters have never been close. Though he doesn’t share the Master’s visceral reaction to the mention of them, it is still a very uncomfortable subject for him.

Penny: Oh..oh no.

Penny puts her hands in her face and her head in her lap. The situation was far worse than she thought, things were so bad between them that their own father didn’t even want to hear their names anymore. And she had brought it up the first week of her etiquette lessons. As if this weren’t already painful enough.

Yuko: Ms. Polendina? Are you feeling unwell?

Penny: I mentioned it. To Whitley yesterday I thought it was just something she didn’t tell me because we don’t talk to each other much. I didn’t know it was this…this…I feel so mean.

Yuko: (Sighs) Please calm down Ms. Polendina, while it was not wise to say anything about them Young Master is quite forgiving. He’s not the type of person to hold an innocent mistake against someone.

Penny: That’s good because I want to apologize but I don’t know if-

Yuko: Then apologize the next chance you get. Waiting and acting pitiful does nothing to fix the situation so don’t delay it.

Penny pulls her head back up and smiles at Yuko.

Penny: I’ll be sure to apologize before I leave today. Thank you for your help Yuko.

Yuko: Of course Ms. Polendina, I am here to serve.

At that moment the door opens again and Whitley walks back in. He still has his scroll out as he walks directly to Penny. He stops in front of her, a small smirk planted on his face.

Whitley: I have some good news for you Ms. Polendina. I just go off a call with Octavia Foxglove, the daughter of one of your suspects. And she’s agreed to have you at her monthly tea party in a couple weeks.

Penny: Really?! That’s amazing! I’ve only been taking lessons here for a three days and you’ve already found an event with someone so close to a suspect so quickly!

Whitley: Well it’s not a hard task when you have connections with every important person, family, or business in the range. But back to the topic at hand I’ll be sending you some details on the party and your target after our lesson but before we can continue Octavia wants a picture of you in advance. She likes to have custom table settings made for each guest with their face printed on the placement cards. And since she’s not a very patient person we need to send it as soon as possible. Now stand up.

Penny obliges and gets up from her seat, while Whitley takes a few steps back and opens the camera app on his scroll. He points the camera at her face while Penny stands at attention, hands behind her back, and smile on her face. After a few quick snaps the picture is taken but as Whitley inspects it he finds it to be very unsatisfactory. While the picture is clear and Penny’s face is in full focus the wall of the lounge room had been so dark that it made everything look desaturated.

Whitley: This won’t do, the walls are far too dark. It’s draining all the color out of the photo.

Penny: Really?

Whitley turns his scroll around to show her the front screen. Penny eyes widened at the sight, though she rarely saw or took pictures of herself Penny could still tell something was off about it. The walls had indeed made everything look much darker, the worse of it being around every piece of black on her body. It was a half body pic so her bow, collar, and the top of her waist were all blending into the background with little bit of the surrounding green, white, and gold of the rest of her outfit peeking through.

Penny: This does look very bad, how do we fix it?

Whitley: We just need better lighting. let’s go the ballroom, if the currents are drawn it should be nice and bright right now.

Yuko already has the door open while Whitley walks towards it, Penny follows behind him and all three leave the lounge. They make their way to the ballroom where sure enough the currents have been drawn however it’s the mid afternoon and the marble floors seem to have just been cleaned and the white pillars waxed. With the sunlight beaming through the windows, shining on clean floor and off the pillars, the room has become very very-

Penny: Bright!

Penny, Whitley, and Yuko cover their eyes shielding their eyes from blinding light bouncing off the freshly clean surfaces.

Whitley: So it’s fairly obvious that we can’t possibly take a picture in here!

Penny: Yes, the camera lens won’t be able to pick up anything with this much light.

Yuko: Then may I suggest we go somewhere less blinding!

Yuko grabs them by an arm each and rush them out of the ballroom. Soon their back in the main hall and begin searching for a better location. They are headed towards the music room where they run into Mary and Sue standing outside the door, Sue spots them first.

Sue: Good afternoon Young Master.

Mary: Good afternoon Young Master and Ms. Polendina, is there something you need from us?

Whitley: Hello Sue, Mary, we’re passing through to use the music room for a moment then we’ll be on our way.

The moment Whitley utters the words “music room” Mary and Sue share a worried look, Sue starts nervously tap her foot and Mary rubs her temples before they turn back to trio.

Sue: I’m sorry Young Master but we can’t allow you to do that.

Whitley: And why is that?

Sue lets out a nervous chuckle then elbows Mary in the arm. She turns and looks at her pleadingly and Mary decides to give in and do the talking for her.

Mary: There’s been a several accidents throughout the manor today. This morning while cleaning the music room someone waxed the floor while others were still working and a maid tripped while carrying a number of different cleaning liquids spilled onto the instruments and the chemical reaction of the now mixed cleaners caused some damage. The repairs being done so no one can enter the room for now.

Whitley: (Sighs) I see, and the others?

Mary: Some equipment in the dance studio had a short and caused a small electrical fire and Mistress fell ill in one of the libraries after brunch.

Whitley: Meaning you couldn’t get her to eat enough food with her wine this morning and she projectile vomited again. Wonderful. That’s truly unfortunate.

Sue: B-but if there’s anything else you need we’re here to hell however we can do to.

Whitley: It’s fine we just trying to find a good location to take a photo, we look elsewhere.

Sue: A photo of what?

Penny: One of me.

Sue: Oooh.

Sue walks up to Penny, hands crossed behind her back, and pushes her face close to Penny’s. Sue circles around the redhead and looks her over. Once she’s done she returns to Mary with a smug smile on her face.

Sue: With her complexion and colors, she’ll look best in natural light with floral/woodland backgrounds.

Sue makes the camera sign with her index and thumbs in front of her right eye.

Sue: Though city night skylines could work to if the lightings right. But since we probably can’t wait for sunset there’s the only one place in the manor that could work with her looks and that’s the garden. With today’s good weather and the right angle, light, and posing, the green and white of her clothing could look very warm and calming plus the sun on her face could really make that red hair look radiant and her eyes pop on camera.

Everyone but Penny stands in stunned silence and looks at Sue, confused by her sudden musings.

Sue: I’m a photography major.

Whitley: I see…that’s good to know.

Mary: She is right though, the garden looks rather nice this time of day and it’s vacant at the moment, so it would a be the perfect option for this task.

Whitley considers it for a moment. After a while he gives them an approving nod the waves over Penny and Yuko and the three starting walking towards the garden. Sue and Mary hang back for bit, Mary looks down at Sue and whisper to her.

Mary: (whisper) Feeling better now that you’ve redeem yourself for your little chemical spill?

Sue: (whisper) That was 98% not my fault and you know that!

Sue then runs to caught up with the rest of the group while Mary trails on slowly behind her. Once at the double doors of the garden Yuko and Sue take a door each and open them, reveal the beautiful greenery of the Schnee Manor Garden. There’s nothing but flowers and trees as far as the eye could see with a white tile paths lining the ground as they enter. Penny skips ahead to go wondering, entranced by the beautiful of the grounds and all it’s foliage while the others are strategizes a plan for this mini photoshoot.

Whitley: Well we’re here, now how are we going about this.

Sue: That’s the hard part of photography, we need to find the right angle and light to put her under to get the shoot. And we also need to consider what kind of scenery we want in the-

Suddenly Sue stops, she staring at something with an intense gaze. The others turn their heads to see what she’s looking at only to see Penny squatting down with her elbows on her knees, balanced on her toes, and hands propping up her head while she stares dreamingly at a patch of pink crocuses.

Sue: This is it. This. Is. The. MOMENT! Young Master get over there, get out your scroll, get within half a foot away from her, get down to her level , and center the camera directly between her upper body, face, and the flowers! NOW!

Whitley quickly complies and goes over to Penny, while she’s absorbed in the flowers he pulls out his scroll then he squats down awkwardly. He’s lining up the shoot, trying to get the lens to focus and when it finally does he’s awestruck. Through his scroll’s camera he see Penny smiling sweetly and sniff the flowers. The warm glow of the sunlight brightening the curls of her bright orange hair, and gave a soft glow to her spring green eyes. The pink of crocus highlights the pinks of her lips and the contrast made her freckle dusted cheeks more pronounced and cute. She looks so natural amongst the flowers like a fairy lost in her own world of warmth and happiness.

Whitley: She looks peaceful, so happy, so-

Whitley shakes his head, there’s no time for this they’re already falling behind schedule. they need this done now.

Whitley: Ms. Polendina, please look over here and smile.

Penny turns her head towards him and gives him a gentle smile. Eyes glued to her gaze, Whitley is taking a few photos when suddenly he feels his heartbeat quicken and once he’s done he still can’t take his eyes off her.

Penny: Does it looks good?

Her question pulls Whitley out of his trance and he stands up heart now ponding in his chest. He turns his scroll around to show her the photos. While they’re looking over the pictures Yuko sneaks up behind Whitley. She stands about a foot away and starts waving her hand over Whitley’s shoulder and in Penny’s direction. Eventually Penny catches her waving out the corner of her eye, when she cox her head to get a better look she sees Yuko mouths “ Now’s your chance”. She’s confused for a second but then she remembers what they talked about earlier and decides to go for it.

Penny: Whitley.

Whitley: Yes.

Penny: I….I am very sorry for what I said yesterday. I did not know that you’re relationship with your sisters wasn’t good I just thought I wasn’t close enough to either for them to tell me about their home lives. I promise you I would never have said anything about them if I knew it was such uncomfortable topic, please forgive me for my rudeness.

Whitley is once again stunned, her integrity was admirable. It takes a lot of courage to admit fault and apologize, something very few people in his life had the capability or desire to do. To have someone so strong be so vulnerable and sincere with him felt….surreal.

Whitley: It’s fine Ms. Polendina, it was an honest mistake I know you didn’t mean any harm. Besides it not like I speak about them too much either, I suppose it’s just the nature of our relationship. Anyway now that we’ve gotten a good photo we can return to our lesson.

Whitley turns around and addresses the maids.

Whitley: Yuko! We’re done here, time to head back to the lounge. Sue and Mary, thank you for your help.

Yuko: Yes, Young Master.

Mary: Of course, Young Master.

Sue: Thank you, Young Master.

Whitley quickly walk towards the doors, Penny and Yuko follow behind him leaving Sue and Mary behind in the garden. Soon they reenter the lounge room, get seated, notepad out, and they’re ready to continue their lesson.

Whitley: Now that that’s been taken care of we can finally get to the most important topic of today’s lesson. Especially since you’ll need to know this subject well to successful at the tea party. Now this subject is something you probably already do in your day to day life but I highly doubt you know how to do it and use it properly. The topic is……how to compliment a person.

Penny: Huh?

Penny tilts her head a little confused but Whitley just smirks and continues.

Whitley: Now I know this sounds very rudimentary but compliments can be a powerful tool when dealing with elites. This is due to one of the major values in high society, vanity. Most elites are extremely vain and thrive off validation. They need people to know and admire how rich, how classy, and absolutely fabulous their lifestyle is, making most weak to flattery and praise. With a little praise you can make uptight elites feel at a bit at ease with you. However there are some rules you must follow to use this value successfully, the first is timing. The first compliment should be given after the first greeting, if your address a group give a general compliment like “You all look absolutely lovely today!” or something similar. If it’s a single person you can be more specific, which can be rather simple if you pay attention to how the person’s behavior and movements. Those who thrive on this kind of validation will make themselves noticeable by wearing the most eye catching outfit and accessories possible, even at most casual of events, and will show off their new pieces to garner even more attention. They’ll play with their rings and hair, twirl around in their dresses, and anything they can think of to show off what they have. This gives you easy objects to identify and praise, for those who aren’t so obvious look for them over discreetly first then compliment whatever you think took the most time, effort, and money to prepare. Now the second rule is the most important to remember, never give to much at once. While compliments are a good tool it can be a double edge sword, too much and you’ll seem like a brown nose, too little and you’ll seem petty.

Penny puts her pen down and raises her hand, Whitley acknowledges this and points to her hand. He can guess what she’s about to ask.

Penny: What does complimenting someone have to with color of my-

Whitley: Brown noser is the term for someone who give excessive praise and compliments in order to gain a person of high standing’s favor. The “brown nose” comes from the less polite term of ass kisser which is derived from the idea that this kind of people were so desperate to get the approval of someone in a higher position that they’d kiss their rear ends if it might they’d something out of it. The “brown nose” comes from the idea being that close to someone’s rear would get a bit of….well you know the only brown substance human creates down there. It’s just a negative metaphor for someone how praises and flatters someone of higher standing in order to get something.

Penny: Oooh. Ewwww.

Whitley: I know, and in order to avoid appearing like one of those people after you’ve payed your first compliment don’t give another for the rest of the conversation unless they actively try to impress you. For that situation set a limit of five compliments for women and three for men.

Penny: Why is there different amount for men and women?

Whitley: Because men don’t need as much validation.

Penny: Is that true?

Whitley: It’s what social norms dictate and in high society that’s all that matters. Now I’d like to see how much you’ve learned today, I want you to compliment three aspects of my physical appearance using my lecture as a guide.

Penny almost drops her pen at Whitley’s outlandish request. Now there was no lack of things Penny could say about his appearance in fact it was quite the opposite. There was so much she could say about him, from his snow white hair to his elegant figure and jewel like eyes there was almost nothing about him Penny didn’t find beautiful. Penny decides to focus on his instructions, he said to look the person over and comment on what most likely took the most effort. Penny stares over at Whitley, who’s sat on the other edge of the sofa, legs crossed with one arm propping up the other as he rest his head on it as he stares back her, waiting patiently for her to speak. Penny feels the drumming in her chest returning but she powers through and continues to ponder until she gathers the courage to finally speak.

Penny: Your outfit looks very nice, it’s very well put together and formal but casual.

Whitley: Well it should, the vest alone was quite an expensive piece. Continue.

Penny: Your haircut is very neat and your hair itself is very pretty. The color and texture reminds me of silk.

Whitley:.…My stylist is known for their skill and I do best to get it right when I have to.

Penny: That’s not surprising you seem very diligent with the up keep of your appearance. Besides your hair and clothing your nails are also nicely manicure and your skin is soft and smooth without any blemishes. Overall you’re truly a beautiful and dashing young man Whitley Schnee.

Whitley slumps forward and face palms. Penny tries to ask what’s wrong but he puts up one of his hands and motions for her to stop.

Whitley: Would appear that I overlooked an important point in my lecture. Rule three, compliments should be a short statement commenting positivity on an aspect of a person’s appearance or personality. It should never be more then a sentence or two and as a young lady you should never give such detailed compliments to a man of any age. It can come off as flirtatious and that is highly improper and inappropriate.

The information hangs in the air for a moment until it finally sets in and Penny realize what he’s insinuating and her face bright red as she becomes overwhelmed with embarrassment.

Penny: I-I didn’t-I wasn’t trying to-I really don’t know-

Whitley: It’s fine, just don’t make the same mistake again, others won’t take it so lightly. You’re dismissed.

Penny: Okay! Goodbye see you tomorrow!

Penny quickly grabs her things and runs out of the room not even waiting for Yuko to escort her, leaving her and Whitley behind in an awkward silence.

Yuko: That was…interesting. She’s a rather odd girl isn’t she Young Mas- YOUNG MASTER!

Yuko looks over at Whitley in shock, his face, neck, and arms, they’d all gone beet red! Yuko rushes over to him, trying figure out how he gotten this way.

Yuko: Young Master are you alright? You’re breaking out into a fever. I’ll call the doctor down immediately! Please-

Whitley: I’m fine Yuko, I just need a minute to breathe. Please give me some space.

Yuko: Yes Young Master.

Yuko leaves the room, once he’s alone Whitley throws his head into his lap as he tries to contain a scream. How could Penny say such things so earnestly! What was she possibly thinking spouting such praise like that!

Whitley: Why? Why did she say all of that! It was a simple task, “compliment my appearance” that was it. There was no reason for her to go into that kind of detail! Was she trying to act like a kiss up or is that really how she sees me?

Whitley was confused by how anyone could say such things so easily. For most of his life kind words had a few uses. They were used for personal gain and control by most elites, sparsely used by the staff as part of their jobs of caring for the manor’s inhabitants, and almost entirely nonexistent with his family. Yet this girl he’s known for such a short time had chosen to praise him so sincerely. She had been there less than a week and had already proven to be far more odd and unpredictable then Whitley could have ever imagined. However as much as he wanted to be annoyed by her actions a part him can’t help but long for tomorrow and their next lesson.

#penny polendina #whitley schnee #pietro polendina #broken machines #beta tester #rwby fanfiction #rwby #fanfic #cute #guys get flustered too

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monkey-network · 3 years

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Why Shrek IS The Best

Tastes can change, you know? And it’s less about “What’s good about this now compared to before”, more of “Why would you like this now as opposed to before”? Unless allergic, you didn’t get why dark cola or hot chips tasted bad to you as a child, but when you grow up you can come to understand and appreciate it. Shouldn’t pressure yourself, that makes things worse, but things can certainly align in helping this newfound respect you get for something you’d believe you would never want again. That really is where I stand with Dreamworks’ Shrek. As a kid, while Toy Story left me traumatized for a while, Shrek left me side-eyeing with how crass and ugly it looked and I never wanted to think of it. But, as I grew up to respect animation a lot more, 2018 was where I looked back at Shrek and soon come to understand how wrong I was and how much greatness it has that I now consider it an all time great. And with it getting inducted into the Library of Congress, I thought it was finally time to present what I see in this film. Let’s do this right with...

The SOMEBODY

Now this frame has been meme’d to death. If there’s anything iconic about this film, ‘bout the franchise as a whole, it’s the exact moment when our main character charges out of his outhouse as Smash Mouth’s ‘All Star’ gets going. But this honestly just says a lot about Dreamworks’ direction from its previous films where compared to Disney that’ll take their time making the setup before getting into the hype point for its lead, Shrek gets going in one minute if we don’t count the logo intro. Not even The Emperor’s New Groove, which was going for the same tone before Shrek even released, took more of it’s time with the fairy tale aspect of it in its intro. Shrek literally wipes his ass with the fairy tale aspect before giving us the SOMEBODY, all around a minute. This frame really shows that this is sticking to the Disney formula in some way because it’s wasting no time getting into it. It represents the more brisk pace Shrek has with pulling you into what it’s gonna be about. This overall frame works in its thematic and parody aspect and I’ve yet to see anything top this exact moment, not even the greatest films I’ll ever remember.

But enough about the fact that I made a whole paragraph about this one frame of the movie. Let’s dive into what I say is a piece of the heart for this film.

The Earnestness

Speaking of Disney, you probably notice that their films have some cushioning in their presentation, like they generally don’t show things with a straightforward lens; there’s some theatrics in the way their best movies present themselves. That’s not a problem, mind you, but that helped me understand how Shrek does things very differently whether you consider it parody or not. While it throws mockery at the played out conventions associated with fairy tales, especially its most subtle jab at copyright, it doesn’t full on say fairy tales are annoying and bad. Hell, the film IS a fairy tale adapted from a fairy tale about a fookin’ OGRE that can eat lightning and kills with farts. But, it’s an accurate and earnest way to view a fairy tale from a somewhat realistic lens. Let’s take Shrek’s journey for instance.

Typically, the main character would want to experience something more; explore new horizons, prove themselves, find their calling. Shrek off the bat doesn’t need or desire any of that. He’s content with his life, beside the angry mob he casually scares off, and throughout the film he’s not interested in anything else outside getting the squatters out his swamp. He happily makes a deal with the villain of the film to exile those innocent refugees off his land so he could then build a wall to keep everybody out. Bringing up Emperor’s New Groove again, Shrek and Kuzco are the few characters I know that are actively antagonistic even when they’re forced into their situation from outside forces. However unlike Kuzco that gets to be emperor again but learns humility, Shrek is in the same spot as before but learns that there are people out here that can love him for who he is. I can’t say there’s anything grand about that, but it doesn’t need to be unlike the many Disney or any film that tries to shower you with the grandest themes. The relationships Shrek has with Donkey and Fiona are the most grounded I’ve ever seen because they’re not only natural, they’re hardly dolled up with the bells and whistles made to either drum up the biggest laughs or tug the heart strings viciously. When I think about it, I honestly could see myself in Shrek. He isn’t made to be a legend, he isn’t some secret genius or lost prince, he’s just an every-man ogre that wants to live peacefully or meet SOMEBODY that doesn’t treat as someone to be feared or disgusted at. Everything Shrek says is something anybody could or would say if they were his shoes because he, and the film in general, is the most grounded without making it all distractedly meta or genre-savvy. This is generally helped by...

The Dounkaey

Everyone’s talked about how Donkey is the best confidant for Shrek and Fiona. How he’s most true to himself to where he’s the most openly musical character in the film, and how he’s the most balanced here with his comedic vs serious moments. But I gotta say it too: Donkey is one of the greatest sidekicks ever. He’s a motormouth, but is never annoying to where you wish he left the film. The couple times he is purposefully annoying, not for a joke, is when he knows Shrek isn’t being truthful. He truly gets to know Shrek on this journey, and is the character Shrek gets to capacity to actually loosen up to, so it’s fitting that he’d be the one to push Shrek when the ogre’s sounding more vague than usual. Even when he’s harshly insulted, Donkey doesn’t take it as bad as when Shrek kept trying to shut him out again in the 3rd act after the Hallejulah sequence which is the scene in every Shrek movie where’s there a super sad song because Shrek is alone and yadda ya. I’ll get to it in a bit, but he is as much responsible in providing Fiona that seed of doubt that Shrek wouldn’t love her as the ogre she is. Donkey is the greatest friend because he wants to be there for those who are okay with him being around, and while you could give and take sidekick animals in your notable films with them in it, this film really wouldn’t have happened without him. Speaking of Fiona, I won’t retread what’s been said before like with Donkey but I did want to bring up something I haven’t seen many talk about,,,

The Love for An Ogre

I’ve seen many say the scene where Shrek overhears Fiona talk about “Who could love an ugly beast?” and misinterprets that as her talking about him as a cliched or contrived downside to the film, but I feel that a defense can be made. It personally makes sense that Shrek would misinterpret that and take it personally because 1) Who else would Fiona be talking about? 2) How would he know she was talking with Donkey? 3) Why would he just barge in on her? 4) Has no one considered that this moment is parallel to when Fiona overhears Shrek’s conversation with Donkey the night before?

Fiona is very much the antithesis to Shrek’s character where she can very much be open about what she wants but is scared at the idea of anyone figuring out who she really is. She’ll gladly be gross, kick ass, eat the young of a bird she let explode, but won’t let anyone see her true face. That’s why her curse makes sense, and why Shrek would take a fondness to her despite her initial disdain of him rescuing her. Fiona’s a character where the surface level beauty is her weakness as opposed to Shrek where it’s internal. Which is why when she overhears Shrek open up to Donkey about his societal isolation, she’s soon more comfortable around him. And it’s why when she opens up to Donkey about her looks, Shrek would unfortunately take it personal enough. I ask again, why would Shrek barge in on a conversation he wasn’t aware of or who she was talking about to not take it about anything else but him when what he heard such a cut so deep, especially from a character that bears his similar issues? It also helps that Donkey was in on it, as Shrek feels reasonably betrayed by the only other person he’s come to appreciate in his life. Contrived as it seems, it’s thematically important and appropriate to the conflict of Shrek’s character and the film overall. Don’t know how this could be conveyed any other way because it adds up at least.

I just wanna know how Shrek got to Faarquard’s and back by sunrise like did he run cuz that looked like a huge distance to travel on foot but anyways...

I’m sure things could’ve worked out if Shrek knew, either by barging in that night or through Donkey, but I think it’s fitting that the climax takes place at the wedding. After Shrek and Donkey understand their friendship, after Donkey reciprocates the Dragon’s love (more ways than one), and when Shrek grasps the mistake he made to charge over to Fuccquad’s chapel, we get to...

The End

After everything, we get to the moment where Shrek and Fiona get to share their first kiss, Fiona permanently transforms into an ogre, and we get this exchange. One of my favorite exchanges in the whole film:

Shrek: “Are you all right?” Fiona: “Well yes. But I don’t understand... I’m supposed to be beautiful.”

Shrek: “But you ARE beautiful”

We don’t need any other vows to understand their relationship was built up to this. This moment where Shrek can reaffirm Fiona’s feelings of being able to be herself in every way, because she allowed him to be himself in every way before. That’s that mutual love, baby, that just gets me every time and makes this film one of the best romance stories I know as well, even when it isn’t solely about the romance. This is Shrek’s story, and there’s nothing more touching than seeing this outcast not only get another to view him as a friend, not only someone to love, but people, if only a couple, to actually wanted to get to know him. I know Shrek 2 expands on this more, and it’s considered a golden sequel, but I will always cherish the first movie for how much it tells us off the bat while appearing as a “Take That” to Disney films. This is the genesis of Shrek feeling more accepted for himself and society and it just bears so much good commentary while being a good adventure nonetheless. Like you could say this film indeed has... dimensions? “You were trying to meme about la-”

The Conclusion

Mentioning it, I always had this thought with the conversation Shrek and Donkey had of why Shrek didn’t just “be an ogre” and pillage Fuccnut’s fortress. It’s possible Shrek could’ve taken out Faarquid himself, but that would mean being the beast he knows people have shunned him for, grabbed the torches and pitchfolks for, made him feel worse for. Shrek enjoys being an ogre, but he doesn’t like how society makes him feel lesser as an ogre. That really is what the four films have been about for him and what I’ve come to appreciate about these films personally. It can be easy to love yourself even when there are others out here that stand against you, but it’s hard to consider that anyone else could love you for who you are in spite of how you try to present yourself. But if there’s anything Shrek showed me, it’s that it’s possible. There can/will be people out here who appreciate the real you, will be there as much as you want to for them, and can help you realize more about yourself as opposed to suffering to silence eternally. Generally ideal, I know, but this film in the least offered me that thought in the most balanced way possible. It’s incredible how much of a tightrope this film has in its parody and sincerity and that makes its induction in the National Film Registry and being the first ever Best Animated Award winner pretty justified all things considered.

I know this film, the character, has been a meme over the years. As Schaffrillas mentions in his video, the direction Dreamworks made because of Shrek’s success kinda turned it into a heel people clowned on because, in theory, it was nothing but a joke with the onions and the swamp and IT’S NEVER OGRE. Then again, like I said in the beginning, tastes change. I’d say with Schaff’s masterful analyses on the film series and 3GI’s Shrek Retold and Shrekfest, the perception of the film sure enough shifted like the perception of Megamind. It’s one thing for a movie to blow people away or leave them thinking it’s horrible beyond belief, it’s another to take the time to then look back and see how those feelings have changed. For Shrek, it’s a film that was able to trudge out of the meme era to be a film many consider a strong, rewatchable, and unique. Like the beauty of Spongebob, Shrek is a considered a classic because as in the times as it appeared when it released, this film actually stood on its own with the most enjoyable and meaningful timelessness, exploring the desired love for the self, that deserves to be recognized. What else can I say, people?

It’s The Best

#Shrek #dreamworks #dreamworks animation #animation #movies #cartoons #reviews #analysis #long post #Good Stuff

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