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bewilderedbuck · 10 months

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Devi vs. David: aka a comprehensive list of every single time ben gross has referred to devi as one or the other (season four edition)

HERE IT IS!!! the final edition of devi vs. david!!! if you're new here and haven't checked out any of my other devi vs. david deep dives, please feel free to check them out here: season 1, season 2, season 3. you can also find all of my devi vs. david ramblings here. and as i've said again and again and again, this is a list of every single time ben refers to her as either devi or david, this time in season 4, with context + insight + my own lil insane thoughts, because i'm 100% totally normal when it comes to this topic (they said, like a liar).

heads up, not all of the netflix captions are accurate, or the whole quote wasn't all in one frame, so if the font looks different in any of the following screencaps, it's because i captioned them myself.

i already noted in previous analyses, as well as in this post, that ben tends to go for “david” during their rivalry and their friensdhip, as opposed to when they’re estranged/fighting etc and when they're in more...well, romantic situations, he defaults to “devi.” i’ll go a little more into this towards the end, but it’s just something i’d like to bring to your attention before i get started.

anyways, here we go!

hmm remember when i predicted we would get a “devi” first this season because of the months of distance and miscommunication? and when i thought it would happen immediately after devi sees margot kiss ben? i may not have had all the details right, but i saw this coming from a mile away. and this also fits into the pattern i thought was going to be established: season 1 we get “david” first, season 2 we get “devi,” season 3 “david” and now in season 4 they’re finishing the pattern with another “devi.” they’re in wildly different places in their relationship in each of these instances, which i go more in detail about in this post where i predicted that we would get a “devi” first this season.

anyways. this use of “devi” has me hurting for both of them. they’ve got this - this chasm of months of distance, of zero contact, of miscommunication and misread feelings and misrepresented actions (“he was clearly embarrassed for me.” vs “it was so clear she that thought it sucked. she got up and sprinted out.” i love my two unreliable narrators devi vishwakumar and ben gross!!). i’m having a lot of thoughts about devi’s intentions here that i…probably won’t go into further detail about, lol, because this post is about ben. so. of course he reverts to “devi” here - they aren’t friends, right now. they aren’t really rivals right now, either - i mean, they always will be, of course, but that’s not the focal point of their relationship here. they’re talking for the first time after three months of radio silence, of ben creating this rift between them because of some bullshit advice after misrepresenting what happened (okay like. i’m not here to hate on ben - i just. it’s his fault. it’s literally his fault). he can’t call her “david” because, as i’ve said before, “david” has turned fond. they aren’t friends, they aren’t rivals, they aren’t lovers. so, “devi.”

(didn't include the first "devi" he says to get her attention in this scene, sorry.)

okay this is. basically bouncing off the last one - he can’t call her “david.” they aren’t close enough for that, not right now - they won’t be for some time this season. but he’s also trying to set the tone of the conversation, a more mature version of the one they had in the beginning of the episode. and i do applaud him for this, for owning up to all of this being his fault, too (which. i don’t think all of it was, honestly - there is blame to be placed on devi and on margot over what happened this episode, but the 3 months of no contact? ben’s fault, 100%). big props to him for apologizing. however still a little salty about him internalizing those words from mr. basketball player all those months ago, because dude did not have all the info when he gave ben that advice. but to be fair - ben is a seventeen year old with low social skills (not faulting him for that because like. same) so i sympathize with him a bit there. overall, based on where they are in their relationship in 4x01, i was really pleased with how this convo turned out especially since the spoilers we were given from the premiere made it look so much worse than it really is.

hm. remember how that last convo of theirs was pretty mature and low-conflict. yeah then they give us this. ben’s…exasperated. within reason, i think - and to be clear i don’t think devi’s really in the wrong here, it’s just…he chose to be with margot because he thought it was the easier route. he distanced himself from devi because he thought it would be easier. but it’s not. of course it’s not - he and devi both still have all these messy feelings for each other that they’ve been pushing down and suppressing and denying. and it’s tiring. being around devi while he’s “““moving on””” is tiring. being sucked into drama over and over is tiring. he wants - or thinks he wants- something calm, and easy. -and like. it would be fuckign easy if y’all just got your shit together and admitted your feelings but that comes later so we’re moving on for now-

okay so. as i’ve said in my previous posts, it doesn’t make sense for him to refer to her as “david” to other people when she’s not around, so we’re not going to explain why he said “devi” here - that’s a given. but this whole scene…he kinda let devi get into his head before talking to margot. like, from the characters’ point of view, not ours, it definitely seems like margot had the most motive to deface her car. i mean ben straight up says, “you did have a good reason, so i could understand why you might.” and this isn’t me digging at devi for thinking margot did it, or ben for second-guessing margot, or anything like that - it’s just like. objectively. it does seem like margot could have done it. so i get where ben’s coming from.

okay so…we know that that is. false. a lie. an untruth. et cetera. bouncing back to the first instance of “devi” in 4x02, this, once again, makes me think that ben is just…trying to make things easier, calmer. he doesn’t want to deal with devi’s drama right now (again, not dissing devi, just explaining his pov). interrupting her with, “listen, devi,'' to get her attention, to shut her up because he just…can’t do this right now. he’s conflicted - he cares about devi so deeply that it’s detrimental to him at times, and after the events of 4x01 and 4x02, he thinks the best thing to help him keep “““moving on””” (bc like. i’ve touched on this before but there is no moving on for him when it comes to devi) is to go back to silence and estrangement. back to how they were over the summer. back to how they were in those few episodes of season 2, even, just with less vitriol. so, “devi” to further that distance - earlier in the episode, he says, “we are friends,” but here, he’s all but saying, we can’t be friends, not anymore. not now. maybe not ever again.

following this up with:

the thing is…he does look sorry. he doesn’t want to lose her again. it hurts her, yes, but it also hurts him. but like i said - this is easier for him, for right now at least.

oooh this brings me back to 2x08, “devi, you’re daisy.” ben, currently dating a girl that’s not devi, while still having all these complicated feelings for her, relating her to the material they’re currently studying, after she almost became the reason said girlfriend had to leave sherman oaks (temporarily for margot, of course, but still) - it’s not an exact copy/paste, obv, but i’m loving the parallel. also brings me back to 1x02, “it’s okay, devi. i know how hard it is to memorize seven facts,” the same tone being used then as it is now - although with different intentions, of course. ben is - bitter, i would say. of course he is. this whole situation is just…really reminiscent of that 2x05 to 2x07 arc, although with a bit less anger - they’ve got not just their rivalry and (currently, failed) romance behind them, but also those months of real friendship they had during season 3. there’s even more history between them to contend with now, which makes it harder for him to be angry with her. he still is - just not to the same extent as the s2 aneesa situation.

remember when i said ben stopped talking to her to make it easier? yeah. i honestly totally forgot he says exactly that until i got to this scene while writing this out. “it’s just easier this way. she just always complicates things.” just - ouch, ouch, ouch. this is just me reiterating everything i’ve already said, i guess. does he want to push devi away right now? no, i don’t think so. but it makes things less complicated for him. devi is messy, yes, they’ve established that well over all four seasons - but this isn’t really about how messy devi is, is it? he tells margot that it’s because of devi, and it is, partially, but it’s also because of him. because he and devi clash. because he and devi mesh. because, at least right now, it is so hard for him to separate all these things he feels - angry and disappointed, yes, but there’s this - wistful, i want to say, feeling there under all of that, this pull he’s always going to feel with her. and he’s not in a place where he can let that go unless he cuts her off.

god i do feel for ben here. i wish they had brought back some of the stuff from last season with him…chilling out more when it comes to academics and all that, but like, this is ben gross we’re talking about here - one intestinal blockage and heartfelt convo with his dad isn’t going to erase over a decade of self-set high expectations. dude is stressed, literally sweating through his clothes and now he looks like someone squirted a bottle of french’s on him.

and amongst all this, comes the last person he wants to talk to right now - he smells like sweat and acrylic paint and he just had his girlfriend judge the spiel he’s probably recited in the mirror a hundred times (which like, in all fairness to margot, it did feel like a bowflex commercial). and now here’s devi, all calm and collected with her power blazer and bouncy high pony - looking like the opposite of what ben’s feeling. he’s already frustrated, and her showing up makes it that much worse - until approximately two seconds later when she saves his women’s medium sized ass.

episode 5’s you never disappoint do you. i love, love, love this conversation between ben and devi - this vulnerability here, the way they tell each other that they’ll be okay, that yes, this is scary. our lives are about to change forever - but you’ll make it through. you’ll survive. you’ll thrive.

and this line…this so much. ben knows who devi is, has been in proximity to her for twelve years at this point, as a rival, as a friend, even as a lover for a short stint - and he knows her, and he knows that she knows herself. maybe - no, definitely - she didn’t know who she was before, drowning in fresh grief, but she’s grown, she’s healed (not completely, but she has healed nonetheless), and ben has had a front row seat to that. he has watched from up close as she became the person she is now. he believes in her, and he knows she can believe in herself, too.

i promise i’m feeling so totally normal about this…remember when i said i thought the first “david” would be at the end of 4x05 during reconciliation? i do, and, surprise surprise - i was right, because ben gross is nothing if not consistent (most of the time, at least). this “david” is driving me insane. they just had this heartfelt discussion about their fears with going to college, reassuring each other that they’ll be okay, fucking…pep talking each other, because they know each other better than they know anyone else, and ben drops a “david” like it’s nothing. like it’s easy. like he means it!!! i’ve said so many times that “david” has turned into this term of endearment almost exclusively used during their friendship, with ben avoiding using it when they’re not friends, and after last episode, where it had been verbally established (by devi, at least), that they still aren’t friends…now he slips a “david” in. this is the closest, the most vulnerable, they’ve been with each other in months. this is ben taking that step to pull them even closer - ben feeling safe enough to do so. this is ben saying, “i can be your friend,” thirty seconds before he actually utters those words.

okay full disclosure, “david” isn’t in the official captions on this one, so like, idk if jaren decided to add this day of filming or what - but whatever. that doesn’t matter here. what does matter is this absolute effortless slide back into their friendship. ben going out of his way to approach her, to tell her the good news (well. it’s not really good news for devi but like. he doesn’t know that, so). he’s excited for her!!! he gives her this boost of confidence (and yes i know it doesn’t last long, what with the deferral email coming in that day but. still.)

ooooh the way i love this scene!!! the fact that we get to see this interaction through paxton’s eyes is just delightful to me. like, okay, i’m not a “he’s mean to you so he likes you!!” kind of person, but banter like this coming about while they’re actively friends and post-bargot (bengot? ragross? ykwim) breakup…it’s thinly veiled flirting, and idk if we would have been given that perspective if this scene had been shot from devi’s pov, or ben’s. while this isn’t the first taste of mutual banter we’ve got all season (looking at you, 4x04 bathroom scene), this is the first friendly mutual banter, and god we were starving for it - at least i know i was. there’s bite behind their words, but it’s playful for both of them!! but like - then there’s the shot of them both immediately fixing their appearance after they’re no longer in each other’s line of sight (ben tucking in his necklace, devi taking off her cardigan) and i just. ooooh my god i love it. i’ve said it before, and i’ll say it again - peak crush behavior. and ben isn’t even posturing for paxton here like he would have before, thanks to the literal shitstorm of 3x06 - ben’s only…well, acting up, i guess i would say, for devi. not anyone else.

(and like this is totally unrelated but god do i wish we got more bexton interactions this season, but oh well.)

hi yeah no i’m still not over this scene. it’s. so unapologetically horny and it’s a side of ben i’m honestly so glad we got to see. like, okay, we already know he messed around a little with shira, had (bad) sex with devi, and is canonically a boob guy, but this more in-depth peek at his desires (cough cough degradation kink cough cough) is just…chef’s kiss. yes this is devi’s show first and foremost but god do i love the looks into ben’s brain we get. and this - this desire for devi, this want for her, something he can’t run from in his subconscious no matter how hard he runs from it in his waking hours - yes, it’s a wet dream, but it’s more than that. trent says it: “...you really love her.” ben loves her. he can’t get her out of his head. he wants her - physically and emotionally.

let’s, for now, ignore that this is moments before disaster. god, the look on his face, this eager, hopeful smile, the fucking bouquet he brought for her. he’s riding the high (ha, get it) of trent’s earnest pep talk, ready, for the first out of multiple times this season, to tell her he wants her. he’s done denying it, to himself and now to her, too (which. the latter obviously doesn’t really happen for another few months - but that’s beside the point).

this instance is pretty self-explanatory from ben’s pov (i mean, that’s what y’all are here for). checking in that she’s okay after seeing her throw up, congratulating her, etc. not spending too much time on this one - just noting the, once again, effortless slip back into “david” after the events of last episode. not saying there’s not some inner turmoil going on for him regarding his feelings for her; even though we can’t see it, it’s still there - but birthdaygate (as nalini called it) was…a disaster, to put it lightly, so. back to “david” it is…for now, at least.

god this followed immediately by the “is she okay?” and then ben rushing off to go check in on her…i’ll touch on this more in the next instance, but like. he’s truly the only one who gets how much this would hurt. not saying that no one else understands how devi feels, but he’s the only one who would really, truly get it if the same happened to him. just - the wondering how she didn’t get in anywhere, because she’s just as smart as (and, technically as 4x10 proves with that valedictorian sash, smarter than) him. the immediate concern for her, the need to check in...god, he cares for her so much.

“But you’re not a quitter.” bringing back the “no one knows them better than they know each other” thing - because it’s true. no one knows devi better than ben knows her. he knows what she’s capable of - has been on the opposing side of it for over a decade. he has won against her, lost against her, won with her, lost with her…he’s seen her rise and fall and pick herself back up to rise again. he understands her, and he understands why this is so painful for her - if it were him, it would feel like twelve years of hard work, of early mornings following sleepless nights, of flash cards and meticulous notes and extra credit projects, all being flushed down the drain. he gets it, gets her. this being the first use of “devi” (to her, and not in a dream sequence) since 4x05 - he uses it to set the tone, to get her attention, to get her to listen to him. because he knows she doesn’t really want to give up. and he as much as says that: “but if you don’t try everything that you can, you’re gonna regret it.” she already knows this - there’s no doubt in my mind about that, and there’s no doubt that ben knows that she knows this. she just needed to hear it from the one person who understands - and it worked. she does try - and, as we see in 4x10, she succeeds.

this…this is the biggest break in his pattern when it comes to “devi” vs “david.” he never refers to her as “david” with a - romantic isn’t the exact word i’m looking for, but it’s the one we’re gonna use - romantic intention. i think he’s using “david” here to sort of…ease the tension, so to say? to lighten the mood a bit. he wants to tell her - has wanted to since trent told him to speak his truth, likely longer than that. but after birthdaygate - he doesn’t want to show too much of his hand. “maybe i was wrong, david.” not “i was wrong, devi.”

feeling especially attached to this use of “david” tbh. the excitement he feels for her, immediately rushing to pull her into a hug, how proud he is of her, especially after the events of the last episode. again, he knows how hard she’s worked for this, and he knows what it’s like to feel all of that hard work pay off. she’s not alone in feeling this satisfaction - he’s feeling it with her.

i loved, loved all the callbacks to the previous seasons, and this is no exception. the addition of “david” here brings me back to this post by @catty-words that i’m still thinking about almost two years later (and have referenced in 2 out of 3 of these analyses): “it’s a relic from their rivalry.” obviously cori goes into it a bit differently in that post because it’s about their season 2 arc, but to re-work that line here: the equatorial guinea nametag (i would say plaque but like. it’s a piece of paper) is a memento of their first time teaming up, but it is also a relic of their rivalry in a way - the initial anger of devi infiltrating his club, the temporary alliance that was struck down just hours later, the nuclear attack. and so, yes, “david” here is used as that mark of friendship, as i’ve referred to it before, and so is the nametag, but they’re also both a representation of their enmity - albeit in a much more playful way than the "david" from 2x05.

i’m going to refer you to the genius of rae @ice-sculptures real quick, who had this to say in regards to ben’s patterns when it comes to what he calls her: “it could be that he “hides” behind david when the lines of their relationship are blurred and uses it as a way to convey the affection that he doesn’t think he can openly express. but when they actually get together he doesn’t need to hide anymore bc he knows that she’s aware of how much he loves her…so devi is enough.”

y’all. devi is enough. he doesn’t need to use a term of endearment, a pet name, with her here. he doesn’t need to hide behind “david.” and like. just in case you aren’t aware - “david” means “beloved” in hebrew. i’m sure ben’s aware of that - he’s a giant nerd, and he’s jewish - it never gets established in canon, so it may just be something we’re all collectively reading into, but like. i’m obviously going to continue reading into it - he doesn’t have to hide behind “beloved” anymore, he doesn’t have to use this roundabout way to tell her how he feels - he can just say it. and he says it without even knowing if she feels the same way. he’s following trent’s advice from 4x08: “you must go to her. [...] you must tell her how you feel. there's no time to waste. [...] you must speak your truth. she needs to know." he flies to her on a whim to tell her he likes her. actually, he thinks he loves her, “devi.” he loves her. this is the bravest thing he’s done - he doesn’t know how she feels, doesn’t know if she loves him back - but he tells her anyways. he can’t wait. it doesn’t matter that she’s flying to the east coast the next day, where she’ll be a two hour and six minute train ride away. he has to tell her now. there’s no time to waste. she needs to know.

god. i just - i love that they already had this - this whole soft, sweet love confession, full of shy, gentle smiles and giggles, followed by The Big Damn Kiss of All Time (and like. the big damn bang of all time) and he still feels the need to tell her that he wants to be with her. that he wants to start this next chapter of life with her. and there’s just…something so important to me about them not being high school sweethearts. about them not really giving this an actual shot until they’re headed to college. he doesn’t want “let’s kiss at our lockers in between periods and sit next to each other in the cafeteria while we eat gloopy square-shaped pizza.” he wants “let’s fall asleep on facetime during exam season. let’s spend one weekend in new york and the next in new jersey. let’s meet in the middle. let’s cram ourselves onto a twin-sized dorm room bed that’s definitely not made for two people. let’s learn how to be adults together. let’s give this a real try. let’s give us a real try.”

and so they do.

and with that...we're done. if you've reached the end, thank you for reading! i'm so sad that this series of posts has come to an end, but i've had an absolute delight doing these, and i'm so pleased with the ending of this show - because it didn't feel like an ending. it felt like a new beginning. i'm going to miss never have i ever (i already do), but i'm so happy to have spent the past few years yelling about it with all of you - and i'll likely continue yelling about it in the near future.

#long post #ben gross #devi vishwakumar #benvi #ben x devi #devi x ben #never have i ever #nhie #nhie s4 #never have i ever season 4 #devi vs david #went a little off the rails with this one but like. can y'all blame me they make me fucking insane #anyways pls validate me i spent so much time on this <3

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astarionfixation · 1 month

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Chapter 6: "It won’t hurt but a moment, darling"

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: Mature for mentions of sex and blood

CW mentions of sexual assault, sex trafficking, panic attacks

Word count count: 6.5k yep, I was away for a week but at least I come bearing gifts words

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/138874459

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

The scene at the inn looks extremely familiar and he's sure some corners of it resemble quite accurately the night before. Except his delusional hopes to find a solution to his current parasite predicament have all but dissolved, yet maybe shape shifted towards an unlikely alliance with her. Small, insignificant human that she is, yet each and every one of his companions seems to have a fascination with her.

And indeed, he catches her eye from across the room, as their accidental mutual friends are buzzing around her, certainly grateful to have their health and strength back without apparent consequences from the night before. And he is sure it's just gratefulness but from the way he sees the wizard getting closer and familiar to her, hand on her shoulder that drops to her hip, certainly with the excuse of the crowd around her, surely he lowers his head and gets his filthy mouth way too close to her ear to make her hear whatever he thinks will impress her.

He finds his teeth gritting and he swears it's just because

*No one gets to tamper with my food!*

In that instant it is almost too convenient that this lovely, smiling barmaid seems intent to care only for whatever he is going to ask, forgetting every other shouting creature that demands her attention for another pint of anything.

“How may I serve you, my lord”

And he has to bite his tongue not to laugh at the epithet, despite how convenient his looks have been in gaining him access to every place -and person- he has ever set his eyes upon.

“Well sweet thing” he begins with his mellifluous tone set to persuade fairies to give up their own light for him. A long, delicate finger reaches for a strand of her straw like hair and wraps around it, inviting her closer so he can whisper to her.

“I would be so, very very grateful if you could get me two glasses of the most precious drink you offer in this fine establishment”

His movements are studied and rehearsed and his brain might as well focus on the corner of his eye, searchin for Her and considering options to send back to Waterdeep different pieces of the mage in different boxes if his excuse for a flirt does not promptly focus on someone, anyone else but Her. He's not jealous, of course not, *of him?!??* And he knows, from her lips, from her mind how all of herself is pulled to him.

*It was my name on her lips last night! My name on her darn little book! Not any wizard from Waterdeep or otherwise!*

He's brought back by the clinking sound of two goblets that are definitely more elegant and rich looking than anything anyone else is holding in the tavern, and he knows once again how far his simple charm can get him. The girl is smiling at him, full of hope, pulling herself closer from behind the bar so that her bosom is almost obscenely exposed in front of him. And he would be lying if he didn't admit to the flattery it always was to see people stumble upon their own feet in an effort to please him, to be chosen by him for the night, blissfully unaware of how that meant their luck had turned on them forever.

A dark flash threatens to take away his attention from the scene and he knows it's much better not to linger on memories. In one of his exaggerated movements he finds the hand of the girl to bring to his lips, his eyes fixed on her cornflower ones. He plants a long, wet kiss that holds so many promises, none of which he will keep, and he lingers a moment longer so she can have her fill of his attention. As he slowly pulls away his index finger goes to tuck a strand of her hair just behind her ear, brushing lightly on her skin and he can tell already: a word and he would have her, she probably wouldn't even make it upstairs. He holds her gaze and her trembling lips just barely audible let him know that

“Not to worry my lord, it's on the house”

*Of course it is, why do you think we were playing this game, darling?*

His hand swiftly abandons her hair to grasp at the glasses, his work done. As he turns around to find in which ways he will have to skin the mage, he realises his lips are way too close to her ear, but her eyes are fixed on… himself. And they are somewhat even darker than usual? The look on her face he would have called imperturbable yesterday reveals something akin to disturbance today.

*Maybe I will actually have to skin the wizard tonight if he's the reason of her bother*

His head moves slightly towards the stairs to give her a sign and immediately he sees her wriggle out of her company and towards the path that leads to the upper floor.

*Still such an obedient little thing*

And he is only too happy to follow.

—-------

“What was that? What did you tell her? Did you give away your secret so easily just hoping she would let you drink from her?!?!”

He's genuinely confused, it takes him a moment to realise she must be referring to the barmaid that he already barely remembers. What did she have the impression was happening? Doesn't she know how he speaks and addresses everyone? How his charm is the one thing he has to keep in control of every exchange?

*Or is she actually Jealous?*

And as he closes the door of her room behind him, the glasses resting now on a surface, he begins to slowly circle -stalk- her just as he just did that afternoon at the glade, his eyes and smile focused completely on her agitated self, the soft traits of her face trying their best to look upset, yet all he can think is just…

*How adorable…*

But this time she's following his movements and turns around to look at him, her back now to the door, and the corner of his lip might be pulling ever so slightly as he considers the possibility of this ruse being just that, that familiarly naughty side of his brain already envisioning her throwing herself at him as they both fall on the bed and

*I might actually let her ride*

“If this is your way of offering yourself instead my dear, I thought we were already clear on the matter. But don't let me stop your plans of persuasion. In fact…”

He takes a step closer and his hand knows already where to find that sweet, pulsating spot just behind her ear, the idea of tearing at the skin and finally finding her sweetness without the need to imagine any longer makes him swallow emptily in anticipation, and his fingers are almost tingling due to the warmth of her skin being so close now and his muscles tense ready to pull her in, fangs almost bared when… she takes a step back?

*What is she playing at? We both know she wants this, she wants me…*

“Come now darling, there's really no need to play coy, at this point it would be only be a waste of time considering what we already shared”

The honey in his words betrays a slight irritation at the distance she put between them, his tone every bit the charming one he has rehearsed thousands of times and has never once failed him.

And thankfully! Thankfully, going through the pages of that little insignificant book allowed him to fill the gaps in ways he truly had no idea.

But now he knows, he has seen it in her eyes, transfixed on him despite the blood, or perhaps exactly because of it.

“But if it pleases your wounded pride you can tell me all about your protestations from your sweetly plump lips while I relieve you of every. single. piece. of clothing. that stands between my mouth and your lovely skin. Because that's what you want, isn't it?”

He knows how to punctuate and accentuate every word to paint an image.

And not that the mere idea isn’t inviting, he feels his own reaction both in his stomach and his crotch. The notion that, for once, he would actually enjoy taking something -He- wanted, -He- needed, for -himself- and not for anyone’s command or amusement, is almost reason enough to make this the version of the story he committed to.

“Don’t tell me that is not exactly what you envisioned whilst you…. How was it?”

And consequences be damned! Let this be a good use of that little vexing book, to cut any avenue she might think of going up to escape her own desire for him.

“ ‘Lay yourself down with my Voice pouring honey in your ears?’ No need to imagine my dear, in fact let me show you…”

*I will not be denied, and I won't let you deny yourself either sweet thing*

This is as good a version as any if it will get him access to her blood, maybe even her body because surely…

“I can't believe the privilege that has been afforded to you to still behave like a child and have people find it charming!”

He is so used to leading the game that this interruption comes too abruptly to leave her unscathed by his anger at seeing his plans crushed.

And if throwing her own words at her didn't make her confess her own desire for him, there is certainly more to use and hurt her from what he can remember of the little insignificant book. Something they share even. His voice comes out as sweet as the choice of words is cruel

“Oh you want to talk about childhood, do you? Do you want to go over how incredibly wise and mature you were “for your age”, darling? How that clever little mind of yours justified every kind of attention you were at the receiving end of because you were just… too enticing”

He inhales to punctuate the next words

“and how flattering that felt for you.”

He went too far. He knows it before he spits out the last word. He can see her jaw clenching and the deep inhale she takes, seemingly vexed whilst really, her heartbeat is telling a different story about the exquisite way his words were just the extension of his dagger at times.

Quick scenarios flash in his mind's eye,

*Is she going to cry? Is she going to storm out? Can she have anything in her arsenal to hit me back with?*

and to that his body stiffens like a spring ready to jump and react, as if any words she next throws at him could physically hit him

*Because isn't it just what I've done to her?*

It was right, it was fair, and he stood up straight with a hint of pride on his face because no stepping down now could mend her from the hurt his words just inflicted on her. He knew exactly what it had touched, he remembered every single *fucking* word he had committed to memory that night he first had his hands on her book. On her mind. He will not admit he even considered the idea they could have bonded over their shared trauma…

“Get out”

*No. No no no! This is all wrong! Where's the attack? Where are the words I can sneak around and throw back at her?! I need to build her up to crush her down! No!*

The fear of losing her anxiety-inducing presence fills his thoughts with venom, and if whatever this was has to come crashing down now, she can be sure she'll get as much damage as the loss of her brings to him.

“Well fine then, I'm sure it won't take me long to find someone kind enough to share their bed and blood with me tonight, in fact you're right, I might just go looking for that lovely barmaid again, she was so eager to please. Believe me darling, I won't be left out in the cold”

Her eyes narrow.

“You're delusional, as if you're the gods gift to every pretty girl who would open her arms and legs to you”

And that's it, that right there is the space between words that he knows will hurt just right, a cold sharp hit from the throat to that spot just above her heart that decides where her lovely colour and warmth will spread next. His crimson eyes narrow and he moves closer to her and when he's just about to move past her and grab the door handle he whispers with his head just slightly bent, so that his breath can hit her skin as much as his words will her heart

“Well… looking at you darling… I thought it was fairly obvious: she doesn't have to be pretty”.

He can feel how her body tensed up. How a strained sound gets trapped in her throat and a sharp inhale through gritted teeth have her swallow. The light of the candles is strangely reflected slightly more intensely by the corner of her eyes and that is how he knows the blow has hit just right and a strange satisfaction takes over in his chest, making him walk just a bit taller, just a bit prouder because all those decades using his body to get what his master demanded turned him into the perfect offering to anyone's desires and the least of his problems will indeed be to find someone, anyone, ready to take him in, if only he's available to give them anything and everything they might want that his body can provide. It doesn't even matter, he won't even have to think, his body has been marked and bent sinuously so many times his mind doesn't have to be there to give anyone anything they might want. Tonight won't be anything more or less special than that and the price for a warm place to sleep *maybe warm blood to drink* is something that comes as second nature to him.

He's out of the door and his feet guide him automatically towards the stairs, his mind trying to focus on the faces of any of the patrons of the inn whose sight might have already lingered a moment too long on him because that's how he knows, how he has always known that his job will be easier, his elegant form already paving the way towards a comfortable place to spend the night in as soon as he gives them what they want, and they all want the same thing anyway. His head shakes as if his mind better not dig further at that thought, and as he takes the first step down he finds his body slouching down instead, coming to sit on the step as his head bends down between his own knees, his long delicate fingers shaking as they pull at the back of his neck so that his head falls just lower and lower.

And among the flashes his mind offers of all the times he had to offer his body as the matter of an exchange for his own survival, a corner of his brain screams at the door now closed behind him and

*how could she let me go out in the cold again??!?*.

His shoulders shrug as he tries to make himself smaller. Maybe spending the night on the stairs is just as acceptable, easier, safer for everyone and safer for him, and how deep his mind must have kept him, attempting to avoid memories of useful seduction techniques coming back to him, to not hear her steps, if not her heartbeat, until the warmth of her hand is once again scorching his neck and he flinches too suddenly for his unaffected facade to remain unbroken.

He tries to turn around, his arms still protecting his face, wrapped around his knees and just his crimson eyes and dark circles peek through, looking at her in a way that might seem unthreatening enough that now her arms have gone circling around his shoulders… and it all suddenly feels warmer and there’s also something… weird, something he can't quite pinpoint, but something that feels like there’s no requirement for each and every one of his senses and instincts to be ready to react.

She breathes loudly, louder than even her need for air requires, and the noise alone should be annoying but after a few breaths he realises his own body is following her rhythm even without the need for it, but the slow, measured breaths are bringing an unexpected calm that washes over his tensed muscles, his jaw unclenches and the grip of his own arms around his knees, so tight he didn't realise it made him tremble, is now getting flushed.

*Because if she has her arms around me I don't need to hold on anymore*

The thought is fleeting and he will deny thinking that, but in the next exhale his body finally relaxes into her warm embrace. She hasn't said anything, done anything but holding him and guiding his breath with her own, and while a slight fear crosses his mind -because if she is to hit him with any word now, he would certainly dissolve- he’s also so tired of the charade by this point he can’t hold onto his persona anymore. It comes as a whisper that a part of him still feels betrayed by sharing, because it is the truth and how will that not be ammunition for her to use at a later time?

But his breath is not his own now, following in unison with hers and so the words escape his pale bloodless lips anyway

“I'm sorry, I couldn't do it, I'm sorry”

She leaves the silence holding space in the air for what feels like an eternity after his shameful confession, but he can suddenly feel her arms pulling him tighter to her. Crouching next to him, his head finds a way to nestle in the crook of her neck where he instinctively inhales deeply and the scent of mulled wine and flowers fills his entire being once again, and besides bringing back a hunger pang down in the depth of his stomach, there is now something almost soothing about what's become so familiar and intrinsically associated with her. He must be so stupid to allow himself to feel what seemingly resembles safety, if nothing else because he never knew what that actually meant, but he's so tired. Tired in a way no rest or trance can bring him peace and so even if her warmth is a lie he's making his peace with it, he'll pay the price in time, but for now he can just slightly rub the tip of his nose on that pulsating spot just behind her ear, her scent emanating from it as a sweet siren song for the beast his fangs belong to, but not without an unexpected and reassuring comfort to some other side of himself, something he hasn't felt stirring in such a long time that he had no reason to believe was still there.

The silence, filled only by their breaths, has become so familiar he might be convinced the stairs could be a welcome spot to spend the night if she keeps holding him like this, but that's when his own train of thought is interrupted by her low whisper

“Come on, come back, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry too”

And at that he shouldn't feel the warmth radiate from every spot their bodies are in contact with each other down to the centre of his stomach, but it does and it's as unfamiliar as it is pleasant. His body follows hers as her arms still circle him and help him to his feet, his head still following her scent, by convenience that also means his eyes don't have to raise from the floor to meet hers and that makes going back to her room easier.

She helps him to sit at the edge of the bed and that's when her arms retract their support and the loss of warmth feels incredibly wrong. With furrowed brows his eyes look for her to understand what he's done wrong to lose her embrace but they find hers as they seem to be just roaming across his shoulders to the leather atop his shirt. His shoulders move almost of their own volition and the leather is quickly discarded on the floor. She suddenly crouches down on the floor and the movement catches him by surprise, not sure what he should brace himself for until he realises her hands are reaching for his boots.

She might have sensed his discomfort because her next movement is announced by her voice before it happens

“I'm just going to help you out of these so you can lay down and rest if you want, is that alright?”

And he finds himself nodding before the end of that sentence makes it to his ears, the finesse with which her fingers are pulling and undoing his old boots is not something that aligns with a thing that has been broken and torn down too many times to repair and yet the careful way her hands find the way to undo them make it seem like she's dealing with something of invaluable worth.

He's slightly transfixed looking at her movements that only when her eyes meet his again, only then he realises she's done, and with a bit of uncertainty she's back up on her feet.

“Rest here, I will be on the chair and we can talk more tomorrow if you want”

But his hand goes immediately to grab her wrist because the idea of losing that safe feeling her warmth gives him now just isn't something he's ready to do without. He pulls wordlessly until she's sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and that's when he scoots back until his back hits the headboard and then his arm extends towards her in a silent invitation.

He can't read her expression but within seconds he doesn't need to because she's removing her own boots and

*surely she didn't mean to crawl across the bed to reach me in any way other than functional*

but another part of his brain seems to stir now at the sight of her on all fours moving slowly *languidly* towards him, until she's taken the invite and nestles her body between his extended arm and chest, her own arm now circling at the back of his neck.

“Is this…? I can't… nothing needs to happen, we can just rest, I am here for you”

And that sounds way too much like a challenge for his body not to stir, pulling her closer so that his nose can finally trace her hairline down to her ear again. Until the memory of her words make him shiver

+He holds a grace in the tiny bone of his wrists that clerics cannot give on freedays+

And it's both consoling and disappointing that the moment he can lose himself in her scent again, feeling her body so close to his, the words she chose to describe him come back to his mind, blessed with the curse of an impossible detailed memory that in this occasion lets him know, beyond what she could say out loud, all the ways in which her body, but most importantly her mind, have been devotedly dreaming of him, in a way that lets him know for the first time in his whole life and undeath, that someone other than himself cares about his existence, not only his survival.

*Maybe just as long as I can grant her immortality too, but still, she needs me now as I need her*

He nods as his head is nestled between her jaw and her shoulder, certainly agreeing but also to spur another whiff of that delicious scent only her skin, hair, sweat and blood could conjure, and that's when another side of him replies in a low, trembling tone coming from his chest

“I promise I won't go too far… but please…”

And with that plea his lips part slightly, his teeth now brushing against that pulsating spot with a rhythm that's been hypnotising him since the beginning of this game. His lips closing upon it in something it would surely resemble a kiss and at that moment, with a wonderful whimper escaping her lips, her head turns just enough so that she can look at him with the corner of her deep, dark eyes, her lips barely parted with a slightly faster breath coming and going through them and now he's almost overwhelmed because it was easier to focus just on that one little spot that meant finally knowing what bliss it could be to feed his deep seated hunger, and yet now the same wonder takes hold when envisioning her lips giving way to his, how easily they would part to give him access, how soft would her body truly be, pliable to his every need and desire, truly begging to be his and sate any and every hunger of his, because he knows, she said it in so many words, all circling in his mind and

+I will skip, stumble and fall, he’s the blinded fool and I’m content to stand by

I’ll be the conspicuously deranged lover of the air he walks past+

And he has a right at that to concede to the delusion that she might actually be infatuated with him for no other reason than his existence. For a moment he will believe whatever she saw in him was before she could realise anything about his immortality. For a moment he decides to believe her words, committed to paper in that little precious book that was never meant for anyone else's eyes, and that she is head over heels for him just because he's a worthy creature, just like every one of his conquest wanted to believe they were special to him, whilst he hardly remembered their name the morning after.

“it's alright, you can feed”

the words bring him back and carry a rush to his head filled with a million visions of her body, soft, supple and compliant, all the ways his hands and lips could roam those curves that gave him vertigo at the mere thought of, every way he could make her moan and coax pleasure out of her until she could feel as desperate for him and he did her now, every image fights for dominance and

*does it really matter where I start as long as I can explore each and every inch of her that’s covered in skin?*

his lips trembling, tracing closer to her and he’s finally about to taste the gates of her breath when her words hit him again

“but we can’t kiss”

His teeth have to clench because he will not lose his mind over this mere mortal toying with his needs! His eyes tighten to mere slits and his fingers are gripping so tightly to her shirt that surely in a moment the tearing sound will be echoing through the room. She has been playing him all along! She’s just doing this to mortify him and she doesn’t understand what she’s done to him! As his hands release the grip on her clothes he finds his nose trailing back to her neck, now tracing her collarbone with his hungry lips and

*If it’s a challenge you want, a challenge you’ll get love*

He nods so that his soft curls are now certainly tickling her jaw and neck, and he can tell from the way the breath has now escaped her lips that his plan is already working. His fingers roam to find the hem of her shirt and disappear beneath that, finding the stark contrast of the warmth of the skin on her sides, slowly tracing with his tips and nails to her bellybutton. Another sharp breath through her lips and she swallows emptily, and he can feel that just under his lips as they are tracing at her neck still.

“Astarion, did you hear me? You can’t…”

“I’ll do you one better darling, I promise I won’t touch any part of your body, for any reason other than feeding”

*two can play at this game*

He feels her swallowing again against his mouth and now he knows he can gently move his entire body to fit against hers. A leg between hers so that she can surely feel the response of his body, but even with half his chest pressed against hers, his fingers keep roaming her sides, down to her hips and disappearing again under the shirt, halting and changing their course just a moment before they are to brush against the soft underside of her breasts.

He can almost trace the curve and he can tell from her heartbeat that, despite her words, he’s not the only one who's hungry for the other

*but you wanted to play and gods I can make this a torturing little game for you too, my sweet*

An audible gasp escapes her lips now that his lips have locked onto a spot for a moment longer, and she might be expecting his fangs now, yet her body does not stiffen in anticipation for the pain, and that is all the more encouragement for him lo leave a soft, long, obscenely sounding kiss just where her neck meets her shoulder. The sudden jolt that travels her entire body confirming what he already knows

*your body is aching for me*

and so his lips keep leaving a soft and wet trail of kisses everywhere on her skin, coming down her shoulder and arms and back to her collarbone, while his fingers trace her sides still, and in a moment, when her back arches to meet his lips, he swiftly goes to pull her shirt down past her shoulder leaving her left side exposed, her breasts almost visible but her nipple still covered by the strained collar of the shirt.

*I need to taste you, I need to have you*

At that sight his body betrays him, as another unnecessary mouthful of nothing gets swallowed and he feels his cock twitch pressed against her hips, heaving at the rhythm of her breath. Part of him knows he needs to get this over and done quickly or he won't be able to keep his promise, but at the same time he loves to coax out that side of her that spent all that time thinking

*dreaming of me*

The part of her that is now, surely kept prisoner by whatever silly, self imposed rule she decided to lock herself behind.

*let’s see how long for*

When his hand reaches up, under her shirt, his nails start to trace the skin just around her breast and a deep moan erupts from her lips carrying his name in a way he never before loved as much

“Astarion!”

The corner of his lips pull just enough, because no matter what she said, he can feel she wants him in more ways than one, and as his nail dig just a hint too much in that delicate area just on the valley between her breasts, she exhales sharply and now he finds her breath to breathe her in, his face so close to hers that nothing is in focus, the tip of his nose grazing hers and he is now making an effort to keep enough distance between their lips yet she is likely unaware of how her mouth is reaching out to his.

*your rules, my love*

His lips trace back to her cheek and down to her ear to whisper as his nails trace her skin from the centre of her chest to that soft area south of her collarbone but still not close enough to her nipple

“Your blood just reaches out to me and blooms every time my nails press and trace just… like… that”

And the way her body arches at his words brings that soft, supple spot just atop of her breast too close to his lips to refuse now. He finds himself surprised at the idea that the first time he’s tasting her is not to give in to the delicious tempting bit behind her ear, but his mouth is now watering beyond anything he has ever experienced, his lips just sucking at that speckle of skin just south of her collarbone, where he can feel the rhythm of her heart so loudly that the distraction is almost enough to ignore that her nipple is inexorably poking through the shirt, just against his chin

“It won’t hurt but a moment darling”

and then two runaway words follow with

“forgive me”

barely breathed out.

Both words escaped his lips like traitors that were not meant for her ears, but that's quickly out of his mind when finally his fangs can break the thin resistance that the soft skin of her breasts was valiantly putting up.

The warm liquid hitting his tongue sets off an explosion in his mind, makes him realise he has never learnt enough words to describe the absolute perfection that the taste of thinking creatures could bring to his lips, it would take a poet rather than a thief like himself to describe the complexity and richness of the thick liquid that caresses his insides, from his mouth and down his throat where finally the thirst is quenched, and when it fills his stomach every single part of his body feels… relief… every muscle fills with renewed vigour he didn’t know his body could posses, and suddenly he feels his own cheeks, his own fingertips still digging in her softness, getting closer to her warmth, and the flavour is so inebriating that no part of him seems to remember anything that ever happened before her blood traversed his own veins and so feeling his own hips thrust against hers feels just like the most natural consequence of that bliss that's permeating every single part of his body. The softness of her body, even with fabric still separating their legs, makes him aware of the stark contrast with his own, his hip bones as much as his own hardness relishing in the pressure his body needs now, needs to feel as if she could be all around every single part of him. The train of thoughts is becoming so warm and fuzzy while his mouth is still indulging in a mouthful of the ambrosia spilling from her veins when a low whimper from her mouth makes him realise she's gone limp in his arms.

*shit!*

A shred of lucidity comes back to him and he forces himself to end the first moment of true perfection he has experienced in all of his existence. He plants a kiss on the punctures on her breast, gently closing them, and his hand reaches to cup her cheek, her head lulling to the side with slightly parted lips from which her breath comes in faint irregular gasps.

She is magnificent, the most beautiful creature his senses have ever witnessed, her life essence coursing through his veins maybe makes him more compliant to her and only her but suddenly he wishes he could pour every loving word and sign of affection he ever had to master to give it proper significance. Her flavour is more intoxicating than anything her bouquet tried to announce about her. There surely is no life nor undeath to ever be considered if it has to be without the smooth, velvety liquid that traverses her entire being, and now his as well. He should tell her, he wants to and words are about to betray him again when *thankfully* he manages to keep them all in, while only relinquishing a soft

“Thank you”

and his arms go to circle her torso so he can gather her to his chest, one hand caressing obsessively at her soft curls, holding her, wishing for his body to engulf any reaction that still comes from the trembling limbs. He will repeat to himself that this hypnotic hold she has on him is only due to the fact that her blood is new and fresh to his system, unable to recognise they are two distinct beings. He almost jumps when her hand sneaks on him tracing lightly at his jaw, she feels colder than usual and something akin to panic flashes behind his eyes for less than heartbeat, but then her eyelids slowly reveal her dark eyes once again, fixed on his, and a flash of her pink tongue wets her lips before she can gift him again the sound of her voice.

“you should have told me”

And the slight smirk on her face now makes him realise she’s spent but not in any danger. In fact, the rosiness of her cheeks, the breath still laboured despite her lowered heartbeat suggest something entirely different. Suddenly his nostrils are caressed by the soft tanginess of pomegranate that he now knows to be the herald of her arousal. For a moment he searches his own memories of the night he died and lived forever but he knows better than to linger there. A hint of pride takes root in his awareness as the soft, almost imperceptible jolts still travelling the length of her body tell him all he needs to know about what just happened: Pain and pleasure mixed and merged until the latter won over her.

“And ruin the surprise, my darling?”

He will deny in every way that

*really? I did not know...*

That she was truly his first and nothing could have prepared him for the way she felt. Nor the way he did.

Her eyelids seem heavy as her lips pull into a smile at that, her breathing becoming more regular and he can hear her heartbeat pulsating again enough to sing for him.

He realises he has no idea how to care for a human after a vampiric bite.

Along with the warmth her blood brought to his entire being, there's an unexplained feeling though, just at the mouth of his stomach, that he can’t quite name, as if her sweet reaction is just in preparation for a punishment, now that he has officially broken another rule imposed by Cazador.

*Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures*

He finds his face contorted in a grimace just for a split second at that thought, and while the instinct comes to hold her tighter to his chest, something else urges him deeply through a physical need to get as far away from her now sleeping body as possible.

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keeperofthebox · 1 year

Text

This is kind of just an unhinged meta rant about Rymin so do with it what you will. It's about Ryan's parents and how, despite having very little screentime, they really play into the story and the disagreements that Ryan and Min-gi have.

Ryan's dad only has one line and it's to give exposition to the fact that he's from a large family. That's all any of the Akagis say about Ryan. They aren't paying any attention to him or what he's doing in the BBQ scene in the twin tapes. Ryan is the exact middle child, and I think that was chosen intentionally to drive this point home. Them overlooking him leads to a lot of his outbursts throughout the season (quotes may not be exact because im not going back to look) -- "Our parents are probably wondering where we are. Or, at least... yours are." (the old west car), "Why doesn't anyone care about how I feel?" (the art gallery car), "At least your parents actually care about you!" (the mega maze car), and "No one cares about me unless I'm doing... something." (honestly cannot remember which episode and I'm too lazy to look it up). Ryan's parents' absence from book four is purposeful -- their lack of presence says just as much about Ryan as Min-gi's parents presence says about Min-gi.

Ryan has a big personality. He's a performer. He loves dressing up in crazy outfits and he loves looking cool. I don't think these things necessarily stem from emotional neglect as a child, but they are affected by it. He craves attention and he hasn't been getting it, and that leaves him with severe issues when it comes to dealing with his feelings. All of those quotes I mentioned are him lashing out, seeking attention from Min-gi, hoping that Min-gi will notice how much he's hurting from being ignored -- but every time, Min-gi redirects back to his own family issues.

Min-gi is from the opposite situation. I don't have as much to say here because the show is much more blatant about it, but his parents give him too much attention. They hover, they tell him what to do and how to do it. He is being slowly crushed by their expectations. He wants the same things as Ryan -- to make music, to perform, albeit for... lets say artsier reasons than Ryan does. But he's been taught those things are childish. He needs to be the responsible one, and clearly he's the only one with a good head on his shoulders, considering what Ryan is like. He lashes out at Ryan constantly, especially in the early part of the season, for continually dragging him into impulsive plans.

He wants Ryan to conform to societal norms, like he does, like his own parents taught him, so that Ryan will stop getting them into messes. However, Min-gi doesn't see that Ryan's personality and mental health issues don't give him the option to conform (creds to tumblr user vexahlla for that phrasing ... her tags on this post made my brain explode). He says "I couldn't get into uni if I tried" (the mega maze car). This is a whole other rant but Ryan also displays symptoms of bipolar disorder throughout the season which indicates to me that his brain chemistry would not physically allow him to slow down and follow a "typical" life path without genuine help (not the needling Min-gi was doing in the astro queue car). I think these problems that the show alludes to would have been alleviated a lot more if he'd had more help from his parents, but again, he's dealt with emotional neglect since he was tiny.

So Ryan and Min-gi end up as an unstoppable force and an unmovable object (which... now that i think about it... is a pretty accurate description of them as people, too). They both want to play music, but Ryan needs it immediately, because he needs the attention that he's not getting at home. He wants to get away, and fast. However he doesn’t realize that getting away without Min-gi is pointless, because Min-gi is who he actually wants attention from anyway. On the other hand, Min-gi can't leave immediately, especially when he thinks there's a particular life path he needs to follow. Both desperately want the other in their life, which keeps driving them back together, but they butt heads because their upbringings are so opposite.

This issue doesn't exactly get resolved in book four, but it doesn't need to, either. Book four ends with Ryan and Min-gi apologizing, and agreeing to stop sweeping things under the rug, actually try to look at each other fully, and see where the other person is coming from. So it's definitely a start to mending the gap between them and i think that's enough.

#rymin #infinity train #keeperofthebox talks #Theres so much more i want to say but its not really directly related to this point and i wouldnt know how to phrase it anyway #ryan akagi #min gi park #Im going to go listen to me and michael by mgmt and cry now

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r0-boat · 6 months

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R0 :0, I wanna see what you can do for the funny rock guy Roark since you mentioned him c; Both sfw and nsfw of him as your dorky boyfriend. Also hope you enjoy rock puns.

https://m.bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Roark/Quotes

I also like looking up a character’s dialogue here, my favorites are "W-what? That can't be! My buffed-up Pokémon!"

After being defeated

"This is embarrassing... I went and lost to a Trainer who didn't have a single Gym Badge... “

YEESS MORE ROARK

My dudes, I have such a crush on him. He's so cute and nerdy, yet there's this air of jock in him I can't explain-

Roark boyfriend/dating head cannons

Gym leader Roark x gn! Reader sfw/nsfw headcanons

Sfw

Rork is a calm and Collective man yet at first when it comes to saying how he feels about you he just doesn't seem to be happy with how he wants to confess with you, he wants to tell you exactly how he feels but he feels that words alone cannot fully describe his feelings.

If words alone cannot make you understand his feelings then he works his ass off going into the underground to find you something that would prove what is heartfelt for you. Can't make this shit up when he first asked you out he gave you a courting rock as a gift. he gave you was a pale Sapphire.

when it comes to geology he gets his aura of confidence back as he tells you in a low whisper to hold it up to the sun. Watching your eyes glimmer and light up when you held his gift up to the light made his heart drum. Suddenly something just slipped from his lips he hadn't even realized he said it until he watched your reaction.

" when held to the light, Pale Sapphires reflect bright and dazzling colors. It's an accurate example of what you do to my life, but you are even more precious than any stone."

Being a geology nerd he excitedly tell you about every rock and stone he found when he was visiting the oreberg mines and the Sinnoh's Underground. He could go on and on about each Stone and their difference he's really grateful for dealing with him when he's talking your ear off. And not wanting to kill him when he makes a rock pun for the fifth time today.

He feels sort of protective over you not in an overly sort of way, however. Especially if you were one to put yourself in danger, he'll make sure he's either with you or at your beck and call for when you get hurt. preferably being with you so he could spend some much-needed time with you.

Roark is always attentive to what you're doing whether it's playing against your body and arm around you his ocus solely on you or whatever you're doing whether it be on your phone, reading a book or playing a game. When he can't see you he just gets this urge to either call you or text you He seems to always want to know what you're doing.

Nsfw

Roark is a man that knows what he wants and when he wants it. He may be a massive nerd at times, but he is not shy nor Innocent by any means. He has been guilty of picking you up and holding you up against the smooth, cold wall of a cave, unable to keep his lips off you.

He could be pretty demanding, as well. Don't be surprised when he starts ordering you around, getting quite authoritative as he uses his strength to manhandle you into places he wants you to be. Roark is vocal during sex whether it be growling or moaning reading his teeth to try to stifle his noises or just talking.

"W-wet, fuck-you're so wet and.. Grnn- hah! Tight! Fuck! Sorry, I-I can't be gentle today please tell me if it's too much."

"o-oh- Arceus, you drive me crazy, im so hard for you."

Roark prefers being rough with you, but he would never ever do anything you wouldn't want to do, so he would always ask if he could be rough with you before he slides inside. Sometimes as he starts slow and deep, he gets carried away, his eyebrows beginning to furrow and sneaking around your neck, lightly choking you as his cock drills into you. Especially when he's close and trying to chase his high to fill you up at the same time, have you cum while he's balls deep.

To the gym leader, there is nothing better than after sex cuddles when he's still inside you, holding you close to his body and kissing you. His natural scent mixed with the cologne he put on this morning was welcoming as you snuggle into his chest, hearing him chuckle.

Roark can't not be in control. Even if he lets you be on top of him, he can't help but get handsy of the sudden he's grinding you down on his cock while bucking his hips upward. To fully stop in from taking back control you have to tie him down. And if you do you might actually break him, leaving him into a begging, writhing mess.

And when you decide to give him little encouragement at work taking him some naughty photos and texts while you're at home and sending it to him. You see him trying to respond but ultimately not saying anything. You frown but you get it it must be really busy what Roark was doing was physical labor after all. But you're surprised when he comes home he rashes over to you practically stripping he seems out of breath his face flushed pink he claims on top of you his mouth immediately on your neck and shoulders giving you kisses, a hand on your chest well another one going below your pants.

"Mmh, you feel me? This is what you did to me all fucking day. Are you going to do something about it? This was your doing, after all. You need to take responsibility for your actions."

#pokemon roark #Roark x reader #gym leader roark #Smut #pokemon x reader #pokemon bdsp #pokemon headcannons #X reader #Roark i love you

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somekindofsentience · 2 months

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OCD in Hello Charlotte 3, or why Charles Eyler doesn't (necessarily) have Dissociative Identity Disorder

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HELLO CHARLOTTE 3

CONTENT WARNING: Discussions of severe mental illness, including intrusive thoughts and psychosis. Please be warned if this may cause you to spiral out of control, and take care of yourself.

DISCLAIMER: A lot of this is coming from my personal experience and understanding of OCD. While I do not experience DID, I don't really focus much on it in this, more reframing Scarlett Eyler as a character. You can take Charles' experiences however you feel is accurate.

I feel like the fandom gets tripped up when Charles calls Scarlett Eyler a tulpa.

I've seen a lot of people state that this quote directly implies Charles has DID, and that's therefore canon. But I'd actually like to propose a different take, that Scarlett is a physical manifestation of Charles' intrusive thoughts.

First of all, a tulpa implies a sense of desire - it is willingly created through spiritual meditation. Scarlett is, in no way, a desired existence that haunts Charles. There is some debate as to whether or not the game was originally in Russian or English, but regardless, tulpa just may be what Charles refers to the phenomenon as. It's not as if this directly confirms anything, as we know in-game Charles is only diagnosed with autism, and takes medication for psychosis.

Charles experiences many symptoms of OCD, contamination OCD in particular. He is intensely preoccupied with purity and disease, insisting that the majority of the population has a "parasite", aside from a select few people (Vincent being one of them, and by the end, the only one).

OCD and psychosis have several unique overlaps when acting as comorbid conditions. It has a relatively high comorbidity, due to both conditions often suffering with heightened paranoia. I couldn't find any research which suggests it can cause the hallucination of intrusive thoughts, but OCD does make people more susceptible to hallucinatory disorders, and vice versa.

Many people with OCD, especially those who have experienced symptoms since being a child, start to conceptualise these thoughts as a being - appearing as imaginary friends which act and react negatively. It definitely happened to me - I genuinely thought I had DID for a year or so of my life, because I had this voice in my head that hated me, and it didn't feel like myself. As a child, it just felt like my own mind was trying to bully me, and I didn't understand why.

We know that Scarlett Eyler is the instigator of "punishment" for Charles' actions...

This sort of "punishing" is very reminiscent of OCD. The rule-breaking itself is confusing to an outsiders, and the punishments even more so. However, I find this rule-and-punishment system very relatable, and I'd argue that some people with OCD might have even more confusing rules and punishments - for example, I can't watch very specific youtube videos, I can't explain what the rules I have surrounding them are, and I have strange punishments for this (that which I will not disclose).

Scarlett also doesn't exhibit typical alter behaviour. She never takes over, Charles doesn't seem to lose time, she does little more than act as a harsh observer, and also physically threaten Charles. She seems very real to him, aside from the fact that he knows taking pills will make her "disappear".

For Charles, Scarlett is simply a being who threatens and instigates intrusive thoughts, but in a particular way. Charles still experiences other intrusive thoughts - Scarlett never discusses the parasites, even though that's a very prevalent fear of Charles'.

Scarlett is the manifestation of intrusive thought that Charles is a failure, rather than being a separate existence to Charles.

my little rat analysis lmaoooo. this was my first hello charlotte one, i've always loved charles, he's just peak gender in so many ways, incredibly relatable.

hope your little polycule goes well salutes

#hello charlotte #hc 3 #hello charlotte 3 #charles eyler #hello charlotte analysis #game analysis #actually ocd #etherane #sentience's stuff

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jaydee1818 · 2 years

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Long post about a movie up ahead…

You know what it was for me about the new Hellraiser? There was no romance in it.

There was no passion. No sweat. No grime. The desperation rang hollow. There was no dirt. There was no seduction. There was no appreciation for the beauty of filth and ugliness. It was just beautiful.

I feel like, nowadays, people are so concerned about people taking horror ‘seriously’ that any love that might have gone into it falls to the wayside. There used to be a visceral love for horror- not just the heightened aesthetics, but for the grossness. The getting dirty. The true disturbing quality of the human body as an object. The wetness, the juiciness, the blood, the grease, the fat, the flesh. People falling apart, hair undone, eyes wild, covered in sweat and tears. There’s a romance in that. A romance in the base form of humanity. In desperation. In fear.

No amount of beautifully made, consistency-accurate, color-accurate fake blood will match the way Kirsty looks in 1987 screaming “You want it? Fucking have it!” She is raw. She is frightened. She is angry and undone and she wants to fight. She looks like an animal.

That is the franchise. That. The human animal. When you watch Hellraiser 1987, it’s so clear that the people making the movie understood what they were making. Understood the beauty of the horrific. And yeah, that’s probably not a fair comparison, as the literal author Clive Barker was at the helm of the project. But that does even further disservice to 2022. And even with all the beauty 2022 captured, a clean, modern, painfully clinical beauty though it may be, there is nothing luscious or lurid about it. Nothing about the Cenobites seems particularly ‘forbidden,’ because they look like pieces of modern art. They have no enticement. I felt like I observed them with the same appraising eye one might cast upon a particularly lovely sculpture. I didn’t want to take a closer look, a grave and fatal feeling for a franchise like Hellraiser. I mean my god, when people talk about ‘sexy’ horror, Candyman and Hellraiser are often the first two names that get called out. This movie was not sexy. Not at all.

The surreal and fantastical were left to the wayside in favor of brutalism and realism. It leaves wonder behind, supplanting it with rote fear. The character’s lack of understanding is devoid of genuine curiosity. It seems the filmmakers fundamentally misunderstood that you can be filled with awe and wonder both in a positive way, and in a negative way. There’s no temptation. There are no trances. No dreams. You’ll never see anything like the premonition Kirsty had in 1987. Or the flashback romance scenes between Frank and Julia. That visual style of storytelling is gone.

The concepts behind 2022 were good. They had an interesting take on the lore, and to include a ritual to the Configuration was smart, and well done. But that eventually served only in detriment as well, as the entirety of the movie then rang like a ‘deal with the devil’ morality tale. It’s confusing in that way, as one of the iconic lines spoken by the original Priest (Pinhead) when asked who the Cenobites are is “Demons to some; Angels to others.” There’s an attractiveness to that. To them.

How is it possible, then, that the filmmakers seemed to forgo the angelic part of that quote? The 2022 Cenobites were beautifully designed, meticulously created creatures. The were beautiful. But the christian bible, and indeed many faiths across time all understand that to see something beautiful can be terrifying and frightening. One of the most commonly known snippets of the Bible, at least in the western world, comes from Luke 2:10, “But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid […]’.” An angel, and the first words spoken are “Do not be afraid.” If one cast their eyes upon the unobstructed form of Zeus’ beauty, they would die. If one saw Anubis walk into a room, jackal head and all, it would be impossible to look away, but also frightening to the core. To see a god, any god, in the flesh is to be both terrified and excited. Those two feelings are inextricable.

Why is it, then, that no one is seeking the Cenobites out? Why does not one hunt for the Configuration? The very promise of the appearance of the Cenobites is the promise to take you to the furthest reaches of experience and sensation, when pleasure and pain can no longer be separated. To experience that which you could never dream of. To push the boundaries to breaking, until you exist only as a being of feeling, beyond and above even consciousness. So why does no one want to see the Cenobites?

The issue falls to the framing device, which needn’t have been used to such ill effect. When you reduce those claimed by the Cenobites to sacrifices, you reduce the Cenobites to nothing more than pretty weapons. The lives the Cenobites take are offerings, stepping stones to an end goal. While the Cenobites may enjoy in their activities, there is no one seeking out to touch them. To reach them. Not the entity behind them. Those who wish to receive a gift from the Cenobites never truly interact with them. The gift is no longer the visit in and of itself. What sights have they to show us, when they are nothing but glorified weapons of their god, instead of gods in their own right?

And don’t even get me started on the coloring. Look, I know it’s very en vogue for things to be monochromatic and dark in movies these days, but my god where was the color?! Where was it!! The glimpses we got were not enough when 1987 is just so bright. And then, to make things worse, the Cenobites were shown almost entirely without obstruction. Just out there in the open, for the most part, albeit in the distance and shown briefly. No illusory quality to them. I know I don’t want a closer look when I can see every detail of them the first time. That’s a person with pins in her head, that one doesn’t have eyes or a face, that one’s neck is one huge gash, that one’s in a skin straight jacket. I know because I can see it. I’d surely run if I could see that right off the top. Gone is the sense of ‘oh my god, oh my god, what was that?’ I get your designs are strong, and really very well made, but don’t just give it to me. Let me want it a bit first. Tease me with it. With them.

On top of that, the reds aren’t as red. The blues aren’t as blue. The color shift felt virtually nonexistent between the Hellworld and the real one, and neither reality is particularly vibrant. You’ll never see as intense a contrast as you hope to see. People being stabbed, ripped apart, torn by chains, flayed, all these things look wonderful, but just too real. Why do I care if your red is tone-accurate when your reference looks like a technicolor nightmare in the best possible way?

The drama! The unrealism! The intensity! The Cenobites are not of this earth. We call their realm ‘hell,’ but you could just as easily call it a parallel or alternate dimension. They simply exist. There are so few properties with a strong enough foundation for the only limit to be your imagination, and unfortunately it felt like this new Hellraiser was want of any. I don’t want your anatomically correct muscles and perfectly researched disfigurements, I want unreality. Give me fantasy, or don’t bother.

I say all this with the heaviest of hearts. The Priest was well designed. The Cenobites, and there were quite a few of them, all had potential to induce desire. They just…didn’t. It just felt like no one understood. Like no one would think twice about whether they wanted to see the Priest- of course the wouldn’t! And god, did that show. I think at least someone working on a Hellraiser property should be able to see the desirability of the Cenobites, the tantalizing nature of the taboo, the socially outcast.

Clive Barker was a gay man who released The Hellbound Heart in the 1986, and the original Hellraiser film in 1987. This was the height of the AIDS epidemic, when gay men were seen as disease, not just carrying disease. Monsters. Predators. Animals. They were laughed at and scorned, and treated as so much less than human. Treated like they deserved their fate. Their tragedy was the butt of everyone’s joke. Yet, those very people were still wanted under the cover of night. Still desired. How is it possible this new team missed the mark so entirely? How could they not understand that when one’s very desires are deemed deviant, when your nature is seen as repugnant, unnatural, criminal, one eventually comes to a place where those words become badges of pride? Of a way to differentiate yourself from those who would wish you dead? That idea didn’t make its way to Hellraiser 2022.

We never got to a place that said, Yes. Yes they are deviant, and repugnant, and criminal and damned. They will drag you down with them into endless agonies. Not a single person will be able to save you. You think even touching them will kill you. And you still want them.

All the makings of an excellent new Hellraiser were there, but nothing was enough. Colors, editing, acting, story, beauty, fear, dirtiness, sexiness (jesus god there was no sexiness), it all came up short. They weren’t brave enough to explore the further regions of experience.

Clinical and devoid of passion, Hellraiser 2022 gets a heartbreaking 1/5*

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thisismysecondrodeo · 2 years

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"This Means the World to Me" Part 8

wc: 3.8k

Story Page | Story Tag

AN: At the end this time :)

You weren’t so drunk last night that you didn’t remember your evening but you were so hungover this morning that it took some time to piece everything back together. You had gotten distracted with Jason and forgotten to plug your phone in, so instead of checking it like you normally did first thing in the morning, you leaned over to his side of the bed and checked the clock. It was 11 am, no wonder Jason was out of bed somewhere. It was very unusual for you to sleep that late, especially when you’d be drinking, but it was a very unusual sort of night.

When you finally made your way downstairs, showered but still bleary and yawning, Jason greeted you with a laugh from the living room where he was playing FIFA.

“She’s alive!”

“Ha ha,” you retorted sarcastically, heading into the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. You knew Jason would greet you with a kiss as soon as his match ended and it pleased you that there was this routine to your lives together. Even after the Emmys. Even though most of it still felt unreal to you. You remembered Jason insisting you wear his shoes last night, the picture Hannah sent, his speech when he accepted his award. Your stomach fluttered when you realized those photographs and interviews from the red carpet were online right now, which meant people were surely bombarding you with notifications, analyzing your appearance and your relationship with Jason. Maybe you were glad you hadn’t plugged your phone in after all. You hopped up on the kitchen island as you drank your coffee, able to watch Jason play from your perch.

Just as you predicted you heard Jason tell his friends he’d talk to them later and he found you on the counter, slotting himself between your legs and kissing you deeply. That brought back memories of after the Emmy’s, you and Jason’s suits crumpled on the bedroom floor, the feeling of his mouth over the thin lace of your bodysuit, your hands pressing into his chest as he fell back into the sheets.

“How’d you sleep,” Jason asked, his hands running up and down your thighs. You could tell from the way he asked that this was a pleasantry before a real question, which made you a little apprehensive.

“Like a rock apparently,” you answered, taking another sip of your coffee. “Fun night.”

“Indeed,” he smiled. “You been online this morning?”

“No my phone is dead,” you began, “is there something I should be worried about?”

Jason was still smiling so you weren’t overly concerned yet. And then he asked, “Depends, what does ‘Paris looks nice this time of year’ mean?”

You froze, your eyes wide and a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Fuck.” That was one memory that hadn’t come back so swiftly. Your forehead fell forward onto his shoulder and you spoke without looking at him. “It may or may not…be a reference to a threesome. Oh god, that was offensive, wasn't it? Did I offend you? Or Donald? Shit, I’m sorry, I should delete that,” you moved to get off the counter but he held you in place with a hand at your waist. “I didn’t even think about people seeing that, it was just a funny little joke…”

“Oh, it was a very funny joke. Heather sent me a Buzzfeed article calling you 'the most relatable' and one titled 'Y/N is all of us',” Jason chuckled making air quotes with his fingers. “You are downright viral.”

“Are you taking glee at me accidentally telling the internet I’d have a threesome with you and Donald Glover when you should be upset that I not only overshadowed a wonderful night for you but am also a big ol’ idiot who should know better?”

Jason shook his head and kissed your nose, “I meant it when I said you can do what you want. But it may be worth talking to Heather about it. No matter what, you’re not an idiot, you’re just…what did Heather call it…’chronically online.’”

“That is… accurate. Alright, let me go get my phone and face the music.”

You left Jason in the kitchen and started scrolling through literally thousands of notifications across various platforms, plus text messages and missed calls. You groaned and started with the Instagram post. The reaction was generally positive like Jason had suggested, so you decided to take it in stride. You edited the caption, adding, “Whoever sent this to Jason: you’re on my shit-list because I just had to explain this caption 🥴.” It played into the relatable vibe while also playfully acknowledging that you didn’t truly intend for the post to have the reach that it did. It was the articles and tweets where things fell apart. Though a number of news outlets declared your funny post as proof that the two of you were a good fit together, the negative reactions hit hard. People saying you weren’t attractive enough, you were a nobody, that Jason had downgraded. And even that didn’t upset you as much as the comments making Jason out to be a creep, implying that he was taking advantage of you. By the time Jason came to check on you upstairs with a snack, you were furious. His eyebrows shot up as you immediately started reporting what you had read.

“Maybe let’s take a little break from reading people’s opinions, hm?”

“I should say something. I mean, yeah, obviously I seem out of place but they don’t know us and they don’t understand…”

“So you’re going to make them?”

You sighed, falling back against the headboard, tossing your phone away. “I don’t know. I just hate to let people think you’re some Hollywood creep taking advantage of me because of the age gap.”

“I appreciate that you want to defend me, but the response really isn’t that bad surprisingly. Here, I’ll call Heather now, we’ll talk about it.”

Heather was surprised to hear how upset you are considering the actual media outlets are trending positive about the relationship, but she understands. As a publicist you’re sure if Jason had run the relationship past her, she too would have advised against it. Hell, maybe he did run it past her and then just didn’t listen. Heather suggested that Jason do a print interview, something where he could be thoughtful and charismatic about the relationship without the pressure of being on camera.

“You mean without reminding people I’m old,” Jason smiled. You looked at Jason over the phone he held between the two of you, thinking carefully before you spoke.

“Could we do it together? Like, as a couple?”

“Well, Y/N,” Heather started, addressing you directly, “I’m not technically your publicist, but if you’re game for it I’d happily help facilitate. I’ve read your book, I know you’re good with words. Jason?”

“I don’t want you to put yourself out there like that, unless you want to. You’d be opening yourself up to a world of scrutiny.”

“It seems like I already did that on accident. I want to. I mean it. Besides, people are more likely to believe me when I say you’re not a creep than if you say it.”

“Fair.”

Excerpt from the interview

So, Y/N, Jason, you two come from very different worlds. What drew you to each other?

JS: She is by far the smartest person to ever give me the time of day. I loved her writing before I ever met her, and then I got to spend time with her and found out how funny, and kind, and gorgeous she is, inside and out. We really just connected in a way I haven’t experienced before. You know, creating chemistry with people is kind of my job, but I don’t really have to turn it on with her and I think we still find each other rather charming.

Y/N: God, I need to stop letting him answer questions first *laughs*. I had been a fan of Jason’s since SNL days, so obviously I was attracted to how funny and handsome he is. But he’s also incredibly thoughtful and quick-witted under that midwestern charm. I was drawn to this image I had of him and imagine my surprise when the real thing was even better.

How do you respond to people that are concerned that the age gap is inappropriate?

Y/N: I’m going to say something that will probably surprise people: They should be concerned about people in relationships with large age gaps. You should absolutely be looking out for your friends and people you know that are in imbalanced relationships because there’s so much potential for someone to get taken advantage of. But those people that are concerned don’t know us, and I promise, this relationship is not imbalanced. I’m nearly 30, I had a life before Jason—I’m choosing to be here and I’m choosing him. I think people that are making a big stink out of it are honestly taking away my agency, taking away the idea that I could choose something and know what's right for me.

JS: I don’t think I can say anything more eloquent than what Y/N said except that I am so lucky that she’s chosen me, chosen us. And on top of all that, I wasn't sitting down and designing my dream woman and really hoping she'd be 26 *laughs*. I mean by definition a large age gap relationship that lasts forever still means we're getting less time together than if we had been high school sweethearts and that's a bummer. But it's worth it.

Are your family and friends supportive?

Y/N: You know, I have to say I don’t think I saw anything said online that I hadn’t heard from my parents already *laughs*. But yes, my friends have been supportive since day one. I think at a certain point when you make decisions that are authentic to you, people sort of fall in line with that. Joy can be contagious that way.

JS: Honestly everyone who meets Y/N not only loves her but they’re rightfully so impressed with her. So yeah, my friends and family that have met her, they’re all very happy for me.

But you two haven’t met all the family?

Y/N: No we were in a bit of a bubble until the Emmy’s.

And that instagram post.

Y/N: And that. *laughs*

JS: I thought it was funny. I mean I did literally have to be told what it meant, but after that I definitely got a kick out of it. *laughs*

Y/N: You know, like you said, we come from two different worlds and I didn’t think about the people that would reach, but, you know I appreciate that people were like, “that’s what I would say if I was in your position.”

We asked Donald Glover about it…

Y/N: Yeah? Was he offended?

Not at all. He said he bought your book because of it.

JS: Everyone should, by the way. It’s fantastic.

You and Jason laid low after the Emmys and the interview, letting the entertainment news cycle find a new interest. He spent time with the kids while the two of you were still in California and you were able to meet them quietly and with little fanfare, pleased that it seemed to go well. You were supposed to be heading back home after the weekend, but for the life of you, you couldn’t think of any good reason to, when you were still enjoying yourself. Part of you wanted to go just to prove that you weren’t overly attached to Jason, to prove that you were still your own person. But you truly didn’t feel like you had lost yourself, only gained a new understanding of what you could be.

After a few more days in California, Jason needed to head back to New York to pack for more shooting in London. You were going as well to meet with Sasha face to face and get detailed updates on the status of your book adaptation and then you figured you would finally get back to your apartment and, weirdly, to what your life was like before. That life was quickly starting to feel as unreal as this one.

You watched Jason pack up his things from the bed, in comfortable silence. It only took one look at you for Jason to inquire after your thoughts.

“I can hear the gears in your head whirring over there. What are you concerned about, hm?”

“Nothing really,” you start, but Jason looked at you skeptically, “it’s just, you know, this has felt like a dream for these past 3 weeks and its just starting to settle in that there’s a life outside of this. Not in a bad way. Just…food for thought.”

“Well when we get to London, we can figure out the, ya know, what’s next of it all.”

When we get to London?

“I’m going to London?”

“Oh, I, uh just assumed and bought you a ticket, I’m sorry,” Jason scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly, “I guess I also just got all swept up in the dream. I mean you said it yourself, you had a life before me…I just…I like having you around.”

“Oh, baby, I’m not saying no! I also like being around. I just want to make sure that I don’t go with the flow so hard that I …get lost. Dragged by the current.”

Jason tossed another shirt in his suitcase and came and sat across from you on the bed. You immediately scooted towards him so you could place your head on his shoulder. Talking was always easier with a point of physical contact.

“I don’t want you to get lost either. I want you to do what you need to do. But being away from you for even just a month again…now that I know what being with you is like…it would be rough.”

“I agree 1000%. So let's not be apart for months. We’ll go back to New York for a few days, I’ll see what happens with HBO, you’ll go to London, and I’ll talk to my job about working in a different time zone and meet you there. At least for a little while. We’ll figure out a schedule that works. I promise.”

Jason lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “Sounds like a plan. But just in case it wasn’t clear, I’m, like in this. I know we haven’t been together that long and I do want you to figure out what your life looks like, but I want to be in it for the long haul, Aaron Paul.”

You chuckled, “Very good Tedism. I, uh, gathered that from the interview and your concerns about dying before me." You both laughed. "I’m in it too, by the way. Getting to be a part of your life, to meet the kids…I’ve never been happier.”

Jason grinned and pressed his lips to yours with a softness that told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

On your last day in New York, you met with Sasha in her office, with plans for a very fancy dinner with Jason later that evening. You hoped you’d have good news to celebrate, but if it didn’t work out this time you knew this wasn’t the end of the road. Especially because all the extra publicity around you had done wonders for your book sales. You would have been embarrassed about Jason mentioning your books constantly if his support wasn’t so genuine. And so effective.

Sasha wrapped you in a hug immediately, with the warmth of a sister. “Girl, let's catch up on YOU.”

The last time the two of you had truly caught up was before the Emmys so you started at the beginning, all the way through your conversation about figuring out what your life should look like and going to London in two weeks.

“This is truly the unhinged Wattpad romance of my dreams,” Sasha laughed and you had to agree.

“I know, I feel like at any second this bubble is going to burst. After the conversation we had, I know Jason doesn’t want long distance, but I don’t want to follow him around like a puppy. I never pictured myself being anywhere but the town I’m in. But it doesn’t mean it's bad.”

“I am in awe of you. Seriously. To get thrown into the deep end and still have that much self-awareness and presence of mind…,” you raised an eyebrow, surprised at Sasha’s sincerity, “I mean personally I would fuck that man silly all over the globe, but that’s just me.”

“There’s the Sasha I know,” you laughed.

“So,” Sasha switched into work mode, and you were at the edge of your seat, “about HBO. Unfortunately, I don’t have any more news for you at the moment, BUT I know for a fact they’re announcing a new round of programming next week, so if it's getting greenlit this round I expect to hear something in the next few days. With an executive producer attached I really do think there’s a good chance.”

You let out a breath you’d been holding. “Alright. Jesus, this is stressful. I appreciate you though Sasha, I hope you know that.”

“Of course I do, I’m with you every step of the way. Now, show me some pictures of you and your man,” you laughed and pull out your phone.

Dinner was less celebratory than you had hoped because everything felt so up in the air. There was no HBO news and it was a goodbye to Jason, albeit temporary. It helped that Jason looked incredibly handsome sitting across from you in a brown cable knit sweater over a white button-down shirt, his beard grown out temporarily until he got to London and shaved down to just his Ted 'stache. And the cherry on top: his dark brown professorial glasses that he knew drove you crazy. Jason was as warm as ever over dinner, but you could tell he felt the tension too. Since the Emmys, you’d stop needing your 3 rules for figuring out how to interact with him; there was a freedom to things being serious that meant you didn’t have to worry about rocking the boat.

“Are you worried about us? Being apart?”

“Oh, not worried no,” he responded immediately, “I think I’m just surprised at how much I’m dreading leaving you here. Which, by the way, feel free to invite Willa to the house while you’re here still.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea. And also I hear you, but you’re not leaving me here, I’m staying. It’s…different.”

“Uh-huh, well whether I’m leaving or you’re staying it’s two weeks of no Y/N walking around in my shirts, or reading aloud, or putting her—”

You could tell Jason was about to say something dirty because he clammed up as a waiter approached to refill your water glasses and you laughed.

“Well,” you said as the waiter walked away, “rest assured I won’t be putting my anything anywhere until I see you again.” Jason chuckled and was about to respond when your phone clattered on the table. It was Sasha.

“I should take this, I’m sorry. A call is either really bad or really good.”

“No, no go!”

As you get up from the table to walk outside, Jason’s phone also started to vibrate and you were surprised at the coincidence. He picked up his call at the table since you were going outdoors.

“I have two things,” Sasha jumped in as soon as you said hello, “both very important.”

“Hit me.”

“HBO is greenlighting the show.”

As soon as the sentence hit your ears it felt like the world around you slowed and then stopped. The people walking past you, the cars on the street, all sounded like they were underwater. You were thrilled, of course you were thrilled, but you were also reeling. You hadn’t truly let yourself believe it would happen. Sasha was good at her job in more ways than one, but specifically right now, when she stopped talking to give you time to process.

“That is…I don’t have words right now. Just know I am stunned and excited and all of the things. But you said there were two things?”

“The executive producer is Jason.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you laughed. Of course it was. Of course he would.

“Not to mansplain to you,” Sasha says quickly, “but executive producer means that he’s heavily invested in the project. Like he’s bankrolling the whole thing, basically. I need to know if this changes anything for you because you can walk away if you need to.”

“I–”

“Wait, wait, before you say anything. I know you are fiercely independent, that you wanted to get here by yourself and this may not feel like that. But as your friend and agent, I have to say, you still did this. This is still your book. This is still your show. It's okay to let people help you. Less deserving people get by on their connections all the time.”

You breathed out slowly. “Sasha, it doesn’t change anything. We’re good. I appreciate it so much you have no idea. I gotta get back to dinner, you’ll tell me what all this means soon?”

“Of course. Hey,” Sasha paused, using her agent voice, “congratulations.”

When you got back to the table Jason was also done with his call and looked at you with concern. You were sure you looked absolutely shell-shocked.

“Well, I guess you got the phone call too,” you smiled as you sat down across from him, but Jason just looked ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, I just—”

“No this is amazing, why are you sorry?”

Jason ran a hand over his jaw in thought, his long fingers tapping against his bottom lip. “I just…I know it was white knighting to go behind your back and insert myself in your work. This is your work and I fully respect that. I can take it back, I can offer HBO some other names, or we can figure out—”

“Jason, I’m not mad,” you laughed, reaching across the table to hold his hand, “I’m so fucking grateful and emotional and overwhelmed I’m just not all there right now. I need to process, but I’m not mad. This…means the world to me.”

Jason grinned. “This is you, Y/N. I threw my name and my money at it but this was in the works before me. And you could do it without me. Actually, you remember the day we met, well, the morning after,” you chuckled and nodded, “That phone call that I got was about this. I had told my agent that if the project came up I wanted to be a part of it, this was after the book signing. I wanted to get in on what you had. So I guess I’m also sorry for riding your coattails.” Jason smiled at you and you grinned. You were surprised that he had been able to hold on to that for this long but you knew he probably hadn’t wanted to get your hopes up. He knew firsthand how fickle the industry could be. “Look, if I can make your life easier, ever, I’m going to do it…but I do promise I’ll talk to you about it first next time, even if you’re not mad at me this time.”

The two of you smiled like idiots at each other across the table. The words I love you were on the tip of you tongue, but you decided not to say it tonight. By the way Jason looked at you, you were sure he already knew, and it wasn’t hard to imagine that he felt the same .

“Surprise, baby,” Jason leaned in and whispered dramatically, “you’ve got a show.”

AN: This is a long one! I didn’t really want the kids to be characters here so there’s only passing mentions. There's only three parts left and an epilogue, but let me know if you want to be tagged anyway!

✨Taglist✨: @tedlassostan

#jason sudeikis writing #jason sudeikis #tmtwtm #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis x reader #jason sudeikis x yn #jason sudeikis fan #jason sudeikis fan fic #jason sudeikis fic #jason sudeikis reader insert #ted lasso #jsuds #this means the world to me

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agentplutonium · 9 months

Note

oooooooohhh, may i ask for 'Sam/Darlin' + Rain'???

OH YOU SO CAN FUCKING ASK ME ABOUT SAM/DARLIN’ + RAIN ACK /POS

i haven’t finished it and of course as usual i started this fic MONTHS ago but I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Anyway okay. Basic concept that may not be lore accurate but i don’t care it’s my fanfiction: Sam can really only be outside during the day when it’s raining. he also liked when it rained when he was human, reminded him that he was alive, and there’s a mention about how he had to regain that love after being turned because it hurt to remember what it was like being mortal but MOVING ON. he calls up Darlin’ being like this is the one time that i really can enjoy time with you in the day outside, it’s almost normal, and they go for a little walk in the rain :D very cute and romantic and ack i love it so much

quote cause i’m feeling nice:

“You know,” Sam started lowly, taking his time, and running a hand up and down Darlin’s side. “If you want, I can stay here and cuddle you for a bit.”

Darlin’ took a slow deep breath, taking a moment before letting it all out in a rush and groaning. “No, I’m up. I promised you that I’d go for a walk. Let’s go.”

They made no indication of moving, though. Sam smiled wider, leaning over to kiss the top of their head. “If you want to go, you do have to get up eventually.” He kissed their head again. “Or, as I said, I wouldn’t mind staying here.”

“No, I’m getting up.”

This time they were able to get up onto their elbows, looking at Sam through half-lidded and tired eyes. They gave a big yawn, mouth stretching wide. Sam thought it was cute, like a puppy waking up from a nap, though if he ever said that out loud then he’d probably get hit.

“Thank you again for agreeing to come with me, Darlin’,” Sam whispered, cradling their face gently and leaning forward to kiss their forehead.

Tank’s face scrunched up, and they tried leaning away from Sam. They didn’t get very far, with Sam still holding onto their face. “Ew. Stop.”

“Oh? You want me to stop, do you?” Sam chuckled, pressing more kisses to Darlin’s face at random.

“Sam,” Darlin’ groaned, now really struggling to pull away. Sam laughed good-heartedly, making a compromise of giving their lips a soft kiss. That seemed to calm them down, stopping the struggle against his hold.

“Now,” Sam said, pulling away, “Are you coming with me or what?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Darlin’ sighed. “I’m already dressed, I just got bored waiting for you.”

#plutonium_rambles

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cloudninetonine · 2 years

Note

I’m bored and sad again so guess what time it is? Head canons!

-Legend is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to anything player related. Like, after he remembers he is basically a constrictor snake around them, has to be touching them at all times, he even hisses whenever anyone comes too close. He has had so much torn away from him (including player if, on his side, they had to leave for every in between of his journeys. Don’t know if that’s the case, but it’d be angsty as hell if it was. Having them leave, to coming back, only to leave again and repeat the cycle until they stopped returning.) and he is not going to let one of the things he just got back again go.

-Player must pet every. Single. Dog. They see. Big retriever? Pets. Little angry chihuahua? Pets. Big wolf- HOLY-! Better yet they know it’s Twilight and by the looks on the others faces most if not all of them don’t know. So they get to make puppy talk all they want and won’t be deterred by Wolfie’s grunts or growls because they know he won’t actually hurt them, while they also are completely aware of his situation and why he isn’t turning in front of everyone else to stop the merciless petting.

-There have been times where the player has (begrudgingly) looked up the answers to puzzles online, but they have done it so rarely with the Zelda series because it’s their favorite and they’d hate to spoil anything. This means they are the Loz puzzle pro and can take just one glance to solve half a dungeon, they are just that used to the Zelda formula. Every time the boys are stuck on a puzzle player comes swooping in spewing out orders faster than Epona can run, within a minute they’ve made it to the next room and can continue with their lives. It’s very strange for the chain.

-Player has shown them a cutscene or two from Botw, where in that game there is voice acting. One of the boys asks “do we also speak in your quote on quote ‘games’?” To which player, innocent (evil) smile on their face, shows them a ten minute video of all the Links over the years making their wide range of grunts, yells and “HYAH”s.

-Player shows them all the silly little games they have on their phone, to which the gang get addicted to playing temple run or something and strive for a better score than everyone else and proceed to very quickly drain the phones battery over the course of a day. Player is not pleased to say the least.

-“So basically they are metal carriages with no horses and a spinning wheel inside to move it about?”

“Hit the nail on the head!”

“…Yeah, not sure I believe that.”

“Wah- oh come on!”

-Player has mentioned Fi before and freaked out Sky. Like- “how do they know? Did Fi come to them at night and tell them? Are they also a spirit in a sword and they all know each other or something?!? Is that why (Name) is so weird?!”

Player: Thanks goodness the other two aren’t here!

Time: What other two?

Player: These two other Links I know, you wouldn’t want to meet them.

Wind: Ugh! You’re telling us there are more? Just when I thought I was free from even more overbearing adults.

Player: Nah, I bet you won’t ever meet them. One’s game is… a little too out there, and the other doesn’t even have a game, it’s all perfectly fine-

Koridai and Courage, emerging from a random portal: Heeeey-

Player: (screeches)

Anyway, that’s it. I hope my description on Korodai and Courage was accurate. I believe they are the cd-i Link and the, “Well excuuuuuussse me, princess” Link respectively, but I may be wrong on that.

(You're completely correct on Courage and Koridai babes, those cringey boys)

ALSO LOVING THE HEADCANONS KEEP THROWING THOSE MY WAY THEY MAKE ME HAPPY TO SEE THEM!

"Nah, because- something like the divine beasts makes sense but a car doesn't!?"

"Yup."

"That's it, put your hands up we're about to fight."

My personal experience with puzzles is that they're literally the light of my life, fucking love those things (hate having to look for solutions to hard puzzles tho) so Player happily commits to the puzzles in the dungeon while the Chain is debating their next move.

"So, if we-"

"Done."

"....What?"

PLAYER NEEDING TO PET THE DOGS-

"....(Name)?"

"Yeeeeeesssss?"

"Why are you cuddling a wolf?"

"This is a dog?"

"No...no it's not..."

"Huh....well, she ain't done anything yet so I'm not bothered."

#cloud answers #bloodybloob #BB

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sanchezpoetry · 10 months

Text

ð Ecclesiastes

It’s no secret that I have a deep running hatred for religion. Specifically, Pentecostal Christianity. So much repression and self-disdain was caused by the zealot-minded teachings of this sect. Honestly, referring to it as a cult would be vastly more accurate.

But even so, I cannot deny that there were some things that I learned from it that stick with me to this day. The relevance of love, compassion, unity, selflessness, kindness, etc. You reap what you sow, which is essentially karma. That there is a time and place for everything. But there is one mindset that I hold near and dearly to my heart. The mindset of passion.

One book in the bible particularly hit me hard when I read it as a teenager, and I would dare say it shaped my young self in a way that helped me become who I am. “Whatever your hands find to do, do with all your heart.” – Ecclesiastes 9:10 was a heavy quote that is burned into my head. I think I read a different translation that replaced might with heart, or I may be remembering it differently. But I digress.

I’m a pathetically sensitive person, but with that sensitivity comes passion. All of my hobbies, I do with intense love and passion. When I was a musician, my guitar was my voice. I practiced for hours a day to make my performances near immaculate. When I competed in wrestling, I drove my body beyond its limits. Wrestling was my life. When I train, I like to train until my body is screaming. When I write, I try to put my heart onto the paper. My poetry is a window into the depths of my soul. When I dive into a subject, I make every effort to understand every little thing about it. I dive deep into anything I am involved in, almost dangerously so. It’s possible that my addictive personality is a symptom of this. Even at whatever job I work, I make every attempt to be great at it. Whether it was manual labor, tech work, being a Marine, or getting my degree.

When I love, I love with all my heart. When I hate, I hate with every fiber of my being. My sadness feels like a bottomless pit of constant despair, my anger an all-consuming fire that makes my mind blank. It is such an intense way of living, doing everything with all of your heart. It makes the good feel great. But the failures feel so very awful. Such a curse and a blessing, living with an intense sensitivity, that the smallest heights feel like you’re soaring in the sky, and the smallest of trenches feel like the never-ending pits of hell. Choosing to do everything with all of your heart, making every little win a triumphant victory, and every mistake a harrowing defeat.

But as king Solomon wrote. It’s all pointless. Chasing after the wind.

#prose #thoughts #rant #Christianity #pentacostal #Religion #passion #love #hate #BPD #addiction #philosophy #wisdom #quotes #bible #the bible

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yoshihashismattebum · 2 years

Text

There but for the grace of the Holy Emperor go I (or how I learned to stop worrying and love Taichi) – an essay on pro wrestling and 'struggle’

The following is an essay/article/thing that I wrote a while back on parallels I saw between Taichi’s story in NJPW and my own struggles with the creative process. I thought this might be a good place to post it. It’s mostly serious, but there are a few jokes in there to lighten the mood! Let me know what you think!

“Never try, never fail.” Before I started writing this essay, I could have sworn that that was a Simpsons quote. But no, Google tells me that it’s from Robots, a film I saw for the first and last time 15 years ago in a tiny cinema in Skegness Butlins. I remember absolutely nothing about the film, but maybe it had more of an effect on me than I realise, because that phrase has too often been an accurate description of my life over the years.

Take this essay, for example. I've been meaning to write it for at least two years now. But I haven’t. Why not? The short answer is that writing is hard! And in my head, the article was already perfect: wordless, but complete. I have dozens like it in my head, all perfect, all hypothetical, all unstarted. But I know that as soon as I put words down on paper, as soon as I commit to something, the imperfections start to creep in. Before too long, I’m faced with what the brilliant Dorothy Parker called “a pile of paper covered with wrong words”. It’s happening now. As I write, I hear constant critiques from the mouths of a chorus of imaginary critics, each with my own voice. I hate this. It’s shit. I shouldn’t have started here. Just get to the wrestling already! I haven’t even mentioned Taichi yet! No one wants to read about me and my insecurities. Ugh. No matter what any number of TikToks of tidy desks and immaculate notebooks might suggest, writing isn’t a clean or pretty process for a lot of people, especially those of us with anxiety disorders or other mental health conditions. It’s a constant struggle. And if there’s anything that sums up the general ethos of Japanese wrestling perfectly, it’s that word: struggle.

My first introduction to New Japan Pro Wrestling was the 2019 G1 Climax. Diving straight into a 90-match tournament may seem a bit like going in at the deep end. And it is. But I still maintain that it’s the perfect way to get into NJPW. It was the G1 that got me hooked, after all, and I’ve got friends into NJPW in both of the subsequent G1s that I’ve watched. I think the key is the round robin format. After all, the main way that we come to understand characters in any form of media is through the way they interact with other characters. In the G1 you get to see each wrestler interact with all of the others in their block in turn, one by one. Barring injury, there are no eliminations until the finals: you see exactly the same amount of each wrestler. Even perennial no-hopers like YOSHI-HASHI (sorry babes but it’s true) have to stick it out to the bitter end, by which time their chances of winning the whole thing have long since disappeared entirely. But as with so much of Japanese wrestling, it’s less about the winning and more about how wrestlers respond to their gruelling ordeal that defines their character. In other words, it’s all about the struggle.

I’ll admit that it took me a while to ‘get’ Taichi’s character. He definitely makes a good first impression though. “His outfit is so extra!” was probably my first thought. The mask, the hair, the gold brocade: it’s unlike anything else in wrestling. “Incredible!” you think. “He’s like an anime villain come to life!” Then you start to notice the creases in his cape, and you realise it looks like it cost £5 from a fancy dress shop. “But he sings his own entrance music!” you say. “That’s cool! ...Oh wait, he’s lip syncing. That’s less cool. Nice idea though! I wonder if he has a special entrance for his bigger matches?” Oh, you sweet summer child. No, it’s exactly the same each time, down to the highly strange entrance video which looks as though it was filmed in a French chateau. “Well that’s a bit disappointing,” you say. And that’s all before you’ve even seen him wrestle.

It’s his wrestling style I really want to focus on today. His entrance, his iron glove, his outfit, his wonderful tearaway trousers, his relationship with Miho Abe, his relationship with Zack Sabre Jr. – they’re all parts of the puzzle, and I could probably write an essay on each one of them. But, as is so often the case in Japanese wrestling, the bulk of the story is told between the bells, often entirely wordlessly. Back in 2019, I didn’t find Taichi’s matches particularly exciting to watch. He’d mainly use chokeholds, illegal weapon shots, eye rakes, and a whole load of other ‘devastating’ offence. Occasionally there would be glimmers of brilliance as he pulled out a sweet gamengiri or a brutal backdrop suplex, but that was about it. His matches weren’t a chore to watch, like some other wrestlers’ were, but they weren’t highlights either. They were just fine. I thought that it was all he was capable of. I think a lot of people did. I was wrong.

Enter Tomohiro Ishii. If you’re not familiar with Ishii, just imagine a fleshy fire hydrant with arms, legs and a permanent scowl. Apparently ‘chill’ is stored in the neck, because Tomohiro Ishii lacks both. He’s a furious toy tank of a man who batters his opponents with chops and forearms and expects the same in return. He’s part of what I like to call the “Dad Division” of NJPW, a group of men with strong dad energy who enjoy nothing more than hitting each other very hard in the face. There are many varieties of dad in NJPW (that’s an article for another time), but Ishii is a dad of the “you’re not going anywhere until you do it properly” variety. Ishii came here to have a fight, dammit, and if you’re not going to fight him properly then he’s pulling this car over until you hit him harder. No, he doesn’t care that he’s holding up the traffic. In wrestling terms, this mainly consists of him backing his opponent into a corner and then refusing to let them out until they hit him with a forearm that he judges to be satisfactory. When they do, he’ll whip out a quick reversal and repeatedly chop them in the throat. He’s one of my favourite wrestlers. He’s uncomplicated, brutal, and gritty. In other words, he’s the perfect foil for Taichi

Going into their G1 2019 encounter on the final night of B Block, I was familiar enough with Ishii to know that he wasn’t going to let Taichi get away lightly with his usual bullshit. What I certainly wasn’t expecting was for Taichi to be the one to initiate the fight. As soon as the bell rang, Taichi rushed for Ishii. It wasn’t his usual torrent of cheating and stalling either – it was vicious, brutal stuff: hard suplexes, stiff powerbombs, and lethal kicks. What followed was a tremendous match, a 12 minute sprint that never let up for a second. “Where did this come from?”, I wondered. But when I looked into it, I realised that it hadn’t come out of nowhere. This was the culmination of six months of groundwork that had been laid by Ishii.

The first singles meeting between the two was in the second round of the 2019 New Japan Cup. This match starts a lot more like I’d expected from their first G1 match: Taichi does a lot of rolling out of the ring, lots of stalling, lots of choking, lots of cheating. The usual routine. But Ishii refuses to engage with any of it. Instead, he stares Taichi down in the centre of the ring, repeatedly hitting him in the face, goading him into attacking. And to a certain extent, it works. Taichi starts trading Ishii’s forearms for kicks of his own, each one echoing round the arena like the crack of a whip. But it doesn’t last long. Eventually, Taichi relapses into his old ways again. A complete charge of heart all at once was perhaps too much to ask for. At the dramatic climax of the match, Taichi knocks the ref down and grabs his mic stand. You can almost hear the crowd roll their eyes in unison. Another bullshit finish. Just as the match was getting good. But what does Ishii do? He doesn’t try to dodge it. He doesn’t get a weapon of his own. He doesn’t try to out-bullshit the bullshitter. He just stands there, staring Taichi down, screaming in his face. I don’t speak Japanese, but his meaning is perfectly clear. “Hit me, you coward! Fight me properly! Drop that weapon and punch me in the face!” And you know what? For perhaps the first time in his life, Taichi actually listens. He drops the weapon and goes toe to toe with Ishii.

When I looked into Taichiro Maki, the man behind the character, I realised that I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. He was trained by Toshiaki Kawada, regarded by some as one of the greatest wrestlers of all time, whose kicks could fell giants. From what I know, the two were not particularly fond of each other. To say that Taichi has a chip on his shoulder would be an understatement (Taichi the character and possibly also Taichiro the man – the line is blurred, as it so often is in wrestling). But he also has a great wrestling pedigree.

It suddenly clicked for me. I’d thought that Taichi—that Taichiro Maki—was a fairly mediocre wrestler who was carried to a great match by Ishii. But I was wrong. Taichiro Maki is a very good wrestler. Taichi the character is a very good wrestler. But Taichi is also a slacker. I’d been worked. It was a part of the story. Taichi, the character, just hadn’t been trying up until now. Why not? I can’t be entirely sure. But I can guess. Because it’s all too relatable. I’ve been there myself. I was there for the two years that I had this article in my mind and repeatedly put off writing it. Trying is hard. Failure is terrifying. Especially when you’re haunted by the shadow of your mentor, whose shoes you’ll always fail to fill, even if you try your very best, because it's just not possible to fill them. Kawada’s matches have passed into legend. They’re studied like holy texts, spoken about in reverent tones by disciples such as Eddie Kingston. No one’s best would be good enough.

In wrestling, sometimes you’re going to give it your all, you’re going to put your body and soul on the line, and it still won’t be enough. You’re going to be battered, beaten and broken, and then you’re going to lose. Wrestling is scripted, and that allows it to tell some beautiful stories, but there can’t always be a happy ending. The underdog can’t always win. There wouldn’t be any impact to the story otherwise. For wins to matter, sometimes there have to be losses. Sometimes the underdog tries their best and their best just isn’t good enough. But in NJPW, what matters is what they do afterwards. Heels whine, complain, and find a cheaper way to win next time; babyfaces might do some soul-searching, but ultimately they pick themselves up, dust themselves off, get back on the horse, and give it their all next time. And the next time. And the time after that. And so on and so forth, sometimes for years and years without any reward (just ask YOSHI-HASHI). When Taichi was coasting on his underhanded tactics, never putting in much effort, he always had something else to blame whenever he lost. Not himself, never himself, because he never gave enough of himself in the match to blame. He only ever did just enough to get by, just like his half-arsed lip-synced entrance. He could always just shrug it off with a smirk and do exactly the same thing next time. Never try, never fail.

During the next G1 in 2020, this new side of Taichi began to appear more and more. He put on a frankly remarkable match with Kota Ibushi that saw them hit about two wrestling moves between them in a 17 minute match. The rest was all kicks. And Ibushi kicks hard. He was a K-1 standard kickboxer for God’s Ibushi’s sake. Taichi gave almost as good as he got, but let’s face it, he was never going to out-kick Ibushi. This was a test of endurance for him, and although he didn’t win, he didn’t back down either. He passed.

By 2021, the floodgates had been opened. Taichi was on his way to a full babyface turn. At Wrestle Grand Slam in July, Dangerous Tekkers (Taichi and his boyfriend/tag team partner, Zack Sabre Jr.) faced off against Tetsuya Naito and SANADA for the tag team titles. After a gruelling 30 minutes of wrestling, ZSJ was alone in the ring, getting beaten down by his opponents. Time and time again he reached out for a tag from Taichi, but each time the LIJ crew dragged him away from his corner. Wrestling convention would suggest that this was setting up for a hot tag, where Taichi would charge into the ring on fresh legs, knocking both opponents down to thunderous cheers polite applause (thanks covid) from the audience. Except the tag never came. Zack stuck it out, struggled through the pain, and eventually scored a surprise roll-up pin with his dreaded European Clutch. It was a lesson in grit and determination for Taichi. And it seems as though he was paying attention.

Three months later, in his final G1 match of 2021, Taichi was in a bad way. He’d had some fantastic matches with the likes of Jeff Cobb and Kazuchika Okada, but despite some impressive showings, he was lingering at the bottom of the table with a dismal 4 points. But his score wasn't the only price that Taichi had paid for his struggle: his ribs were heavily taped and even before the bell had rung, it was obvious that he was in a lot of pain. It seemed, then, like a merciful relief that his final opponent was Hiroshi Tanahashi, living legend and perennial good guy. Surely Tana wouldn’t take any cheap shots? But for some reason, on this night, a red mist descended over the Ace. Perhaps it was resentment at Taichi’s many years of coasting. After all, Tana had pushed his body well past its limit on a nightly basis throughout the 00s and 2010s to carry the company on his back. His knees are held together with little more than spit and shoeshine from thousands of High Fly Flows, but every single match his opponents target them without mercy. Why should Taichi get the support of the crowd for a mere two years of hard work, when Tana had spent two whole decades sacrificing his own body for the company and its fans? Why should he always take the high road when his opponents refuse to show him the same mercy? Or maybe he was just having a bad day.

Whatever the explanation, Tana was sadistic, assaulting Taichi’s injured ribs again and again until his opponent could barely stand. Taichi could have called it quits. He could have let himself get pinned to end the pain. He could have beaten Tana over the head with a steel chair to get some satisfaction and a way out via DQ. Maybe the Taichi of 2019 or 2020 would have done just that. But the Taichi of 2021 didn’t. He stuck it out. He kept trying. And this time it paid off. Just like ZSJ at Wrestle Grand Slam, he hung on just long enough to get the surprise roll-up and the victory. He finished the G1 on 6 points. It wasn’t a great score on paper. Two points lower than his total in the previous two years, in fact. But in the eyes of most, it was his best tournament ever. He’d finally embraced the struggle.

Of course, he still starts matches by choking his opponents sometimes. He still does the same shitty lip-syncing during his entrance. He still wears the same creased cloak. The tearaway trousers are still there, and they’re still great. Character growth doesn’t mean complete character change. He’s still Taichi, and he wouldn't be Taichi if he didn’t take a shortcut every now and then. But crucially, he’s also not afraid to try anymore. It doesn’t take Tomorhiro Ishii goading him with forearms to get him to embrace the struggle now. He’s prepared to come out kicking and screaming every single time. And if Taichi can do it, so can I, dammit. I won’t always get it right. Sometimes I’ll fail. I won’t ever live up to my idols. What I write won’t ever live up to the perfect hypothetical version in my head. But at least I’ll have done something, even if it’s sometimes something I struggle to love. And that’s certainly better than never having tried at all.

Matches Referenced:

Taichi vs. Tomohiro Ishii – New Japan Cup 2019 – 13/03/19

Taichi vs. Tomohiro Ishii – G1 Climax 29 – 11/08/19

Taichi vs. Kota Ibushi – G1 Climax 30 – 16/10/20

Dangerous Tekkers vs. Tetsuya Naito & SANADA – Wrestle Grand Slam – 25/07/21

Taichi vs. Jeff Cobb – G1 Climax 31 – 04/10/21

Taichi vs. Kazuchika Okada – G1 Climax 31 – 08/10/21

Taichi vs. Hiroshi Tanahashi – G1 Climax 31 – 31/10/21

#oli writes #njpw #taichi #wrestling #pro wrestling #essay #long reads #oli wrambles about wrestling

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miercolaes · 7 months

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ANON SENT A TOTAL OF FIVE IN-DEPTH HEADCANON QUESTIONS

what's your muse's relationship like with their grandparents?

wednesday loves her family, even the extended one. she grew up with grandmama, who taught her how to poison others and she also used to teach her about life before pugsley and her ultimately went to school. although they seemed to have somewhat distanced themselves from one another, whenever wednesday’s at home she helps her grandmama with cursing particular individuals. it became a tradition. then there’s granny frump whom wednesday poisons or curses every now and then along with grandmama. from wednesday’s perspective, it comes out of a place of love. as for the other great grandparents that are affiliated with the addamses and wednesday, it’s safe to say wednesday and morticia regularly go into their cemetery to conduct séances and disturb them from their eternal sleep. wednesday keeps in touch with everyone, no matter their status (dead or alive). she loves her family more than anything. and it’s probably the reason wednesday’s so oblivious to goody addams (belladonna if you take into account my version of her) — meanwhile morticia warns her about all the troubles that may arise, wednesday’s looking for more clues to help and get help from her ancestor. one of her infinite times great grandmother.

does your muse talk to themselves when they're alone? if so, how frequently and what about? if not, how else do they fill their alone time?

she does talk to herself and it’s something normal. inner dialogue, inner monologue, inner speech. she got used to it when she was a kid, talking to either pugsley or thing, but it kept going into adulthood. as it turns out, it helps her go over things she missed in the first place and it’s therapeutic. it happens moderately i think, whenever she cooks up some mischievous plan. this also happens whenever she’s writing for her novel. if your muse is ever around her when she’s writing, they would catch wednesday asking the characters questions or blatantly judging them and chakling. it’s her way of understanding things, of enjoying them, of seeking the end results. however, if wednesday’s not talking to herself, it’s probably because (1) she isn’t herself, most likely possessed or (2) she actually went mad and is talking with the voices inside her head. the latter means the monologue truly is within her mind.

what's one movie your muse can quote front to back?

normal people would think it’d be something like psycho or silence of the lamb, but no, actually, it is legally blonde and 10 things i hate about you. especially 10 things i hate about you. wednesday resonates a lot with kat and she’s disgusted about how she allowed patrick in. truly tormenting. a halloween tradition to watch. also the scary movies franchise, but the first one will be her all time favorite.

what tv show character does your muse relate to the most?

raven from teen titans. she also serves as an inspiration for writing wednesday, not accurately, but from what i remember watching on cartoon network in the early 2000s.

does your muse have any funny nicknames their friends/family used to call them as a child?

little viper, little storm cloud, little death trap, little scorpion, little black cloud, little tormenta, pig-tailed protégé, little rain cloud, little ghoul. anything with little in it. she’s tiny. a tiny sized wanted criminal for atrocious crimes.

#♱ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️headcanons.#♱ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️answered.

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deafmangoes · 1 year

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An Album of Christmas Carols - 5

It's time. The one you've all been waiting for. Somehow universally seen as the best adaptation of Dickens' classic.

"A Muppet Christmas Carol" (1992, Michael Caine)

This was the first full-length adaptation of A Christmas Carol that I recall ever watching, and has pretty much been my favourite to rewatch ever since. I was actually so used to this version that the first time I saw a different one I was confused why there weren't two Marleys.

We open with a sweep over London and an introduction to our narrator, Gonzo the Great Charles Dickens, and his friend Rizzo the Rat. From Brooklyn, NYC. The addition of the narrator is a clever touch (and, I suspect, the only way they could think to use Gonzo), and marks this adaptation as the most "book-accurate", according to the BBC (due to the large amount of text quoted directly from the novella).

Michael Caine really epitomises the role for me. Soft-spoken but hard. Trigger temper. Intimidating and heartless. After the opening song, early scenes with Nephew Fred, the charity men, Kermit Cratchit (and the other bookkeepers), he departs home and Cratchit sings a song that gets stuck in my head around this time every damn year.

Ghosts? Ghosts!

Back home, the doorknocker very creatively morphs into (Jacob) Marley's face. I don't know how they did it. Maybe vacuumed it but reversed the footage. We only get a brief bit of the other 'tells' before Jacob (and Robert) Marley appear to heckle their old business partner. Their song is great, probably my favourite part of the film.

"Doomed, Scrooge! You're doomed for all time / Your future is a horror story written by your crimes / Your chains are forged by what you say and do / So have your fun, when life is done a nightmare waits for you!"

Christmas Past looks to me like the thing that comes out of the Ark of the Covenant in Indiana Jones, right before it turns into the angel of death and kills all the Nazis. And because of that, I never feel very comfortable while it's on-screen. Weird childlike angel spirit whatsit.

(In the outtakes, Gonzo manages to get his grappling hook through his own head. The puppeteers play it off wonderfully).

The scenes in the school are hilarious to me, particularly Sam the Eagle's two major jokes:

"Work hard lad, and some day your life will be as solid as this very building!"

/Gonzo and Rizzo break the shelf in the background

"Hrm. I've been meaning to fix that shelf."

And of course:

"You'll love business. It's the American way!"

/Gonzo corrects Sam

"Ah. Hrm. It is the British way!"

Fozziwig's party is shown, where the filmmakers manage to fit in all the other Muppets they'd be hard-pressed to place, like Doctor Teeth's band and the Swedish Chef. Rizzo ends up on fire for the first, but not the last, time this film.

Now, depending on when you were introduced to this film you may or may not realise there's a big emotional award-bait song here after Belle breaks up with Scrooge. It was in the original cut, and the VHS edition, but got cut for broadcast. When DVDs were first printed, the master had been lost so you could only get the version without the song. Apparently it's now back on Disney+ as an extra.

The song isn't all that, to be honest, but without it the reprise later in the film doesn't hit quite right, so... Swings and roundabouts. Past departs, Scrooge is deposited back in bed, just in time for...

... Okay, this might be controversial, but. Christmas Present is the weakest part of the film. The costume is impressive, and made specifically for this film (well, all three ghosts were), and the song is nice, but this version of the ghost just doesn't have the sarcastic bite that I enjoy so much. Even when he does deliver the ironic echo to Scrooge, it sounds out-of-place precisely because he's been nothing but 'nice' up until that point.

Anyway. We get Nephew Fred's party and the Cratchit's Christmas (the second time Rizzo ends up on fire), with the scene-stealing Miss Piggy giving it her all as Emily Cratchit. "It's a chef thing, dear" was a very common refrain around our house when we were eating something out-of-turn.

As Present fades away, Scrooge is left with the tall, ominous Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, who speaks entirely in deep bassoon audio cues. The tone of the film shifts considerably in this segment, so much so they even have Gonzo and Rizzo depart to make it more serious. Old Joe and the others who benefit from Scrooge's death are all creatively shown as vermin and carrion feeders - a spider, a moth, a crow and a bug*.

(*Well, she's described as a potato in Muppet's Treasure Island, but eh).

The Cratchit household sans Tim is a sad place and Scrooge can only bear so much of it before tearfully confronting his own mortality and begging repentance from the mute spirit.

Then, of course, it's Christmas Day! He hasn't missed it! Scrooge engages the services of the caroller seen previously to haul an absolutely massive turkey downtown. In a departure from the book, he stops only briefly at Fred's to deliver presents then goes directly to the Cratchit household, where Miss Piggy violently threatens him. Misunderstandings cleared up, Scrooge helpfully invites half of the entire city of London into this one-up, one-down Camden house and we close out on everyone singing a happy reprise of Belle's "you suck and I'm breaking up with you" song.

Highlights and Humbugs

Despite anything I said above about the film's few flaws, they really are very few and far between. The serious, professional acting of Caine opposite the Muppets is the thing that sells the whole film, and I really wish they'd do more of this sort of classic literary adaptation.

It also holds a special place in the hearts of those who worked on the film - it was the first Muppets outing after Jim Henson, the creator of the original show, had died. The cast were unsure if they should or even could continue without him, though Jim's son, Brian Henson, was encouraged by co-creator Frank Oz to take up the puppets and the result was this masterpiece. Michael Caine has also spoken about this being one of his favourite roles, and how easy it was to forget that he was acting against puppets.

The songs are great. The jokes are funny. The effects hold up. The core of the story shines through. It's just a very good version overall.

10 out of 10 Humbugs. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

#deafmangoes #dickens december #a christmas carol #muppets christmas carol #michael caine #ebenezer scrooge #jacob marley #scrooge

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mydaroga · 2 years

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In case anyone's following along, a few quotes and thoughts about my reading of Tune In. Prologue edition!

I’ve wanted a history of deep-level inquiry where the information is tested accurate, and free of airbrushing, embellishment and guesswork, written with an open mind and even hands, one that unfolds lives and events in context and without hindsight, the way they occurred...

This is very nice. But coming into this book, knowing only what I've heard, I am wary. Not about specifics and I've no idea what Lewisohn's own possible biases might be. But I've heard WAY too many people (with platforms) gush about how we'll finally have an unbiased, utterly factual, definitive book. And that's just not how brains work, so this is a lovely thought but it worries me that he thinks he can come at this after decades of being steeped in this culture with an open mind--and that people seem to accept it. I am not saying anything against him here--merely pointing out that even journalism has moved away from the notion that you CAN abandon your prejudices.

“Once I got to know John it all changed,” he’d recall a decade later. “I went off in a completely new direction.”

Oh Paul. This is precious. As is:

John was floored by Paul’s uncanny ability to mimic that screaming and hollering voice. Everyone was amazed by it. Ian James, Paul’s best friend before John came along, says Paul would often break into it without warning, as if Little Richard was trapped inside him and occasionally had to surface for air.

I just can't with this image but you know, we don't even have to imagine it. I love it so much. Also shout out to Ian, whom Paul clearly ghosted once that Lennon boy happened to him.

It was only because Jim wanted Paul to stay away from the troublemaker Lennon that he was sagging off school, courting trouble like he’d never done before. (So it was “Dad’s fault.”)

"In spite of all the danger/In spite of all that may be..."

Paul had a tendency to perfection but John was always restless to move on, keen to try something new.

Interestingly, I think this is generally true but there are definitely times in his life and work Paul seems to have called it good and moved on. I'm still working out in my mind where that goes or what the difference is.

Unable to describe the melody, they decided early on that if they couldn’t remember something the next day, they could hardly expect it to stick in the mind of anyone else, in which case it was “crap” and deserved to go. But sometimes Paul wrote atmospheric directions. For one song it was “Ooh ah, angel voices.”

Oh my god I love him. Also I've heard that bit about assuming it's crap if they can't remember it and it just speaks to how naturally gifted they were, to remember what they did.

Neither planned to do anything with these songs (to send them off to singers, publishers or record companies) but they agreed—by actually discussing it, albeit briefly—that each could continue to operate independently, writing songs on his own and then bringing them to the other for approval and the joint Lennon-McCartney credit. “We decided on that very early on,” says Paul. “It was just for simplicity really, and—so as to not get into the ego thing—we were very pure with it.”

Ok but... Does he mean they agreed on this so that ego would not become a thing? I really really need more about this decision. It's so bizarre. On every level.

John would call it “a sibling rivalry … a creative rivalry,”

Flagging this for myself because I'm wondering how much this plays into later, not just creative, but personal/emotional decisions.

When Paul was heading home on late winter afternoons he’d try to steady his nerve by playing guitar and singing at the top of his voice. If anybody came along he’d immediately stop and pretend it hadn’t been him, but on one occasion he was halted by a policeman. Paul felt sure he’d be arrested for a breach of the peace but the cop asked him for guitar lessons.

Never heard this and I am DELIGHTED by this detail. Paul aggressively singing to himself but denying all responsibility. Classic.

I thought John and Mimi had a very special relationship. She would always be making fun of him and he never took it badly; he was always very fond of her, and she of him.

I never know how much stock to put into Paul's observations about John's family or mental state but his saying it is still really interesting.

Paul remembers how they spent time trying to anticipate the next music trend, so they could write a song in that style. Convinced that rock and roll would die at any moment, corporate America was trying to kill it, to save time, by kicking off the next kooky craze. John and Paul gave it some thought too, conjuring odd fusions like Latin-rock and rock-rumba and … then gave up. They learned that forcing an idea never worked, that songs had to come naturally.

God. It kills me how utterly focused they were. I've definitely known people like this even as this age. But it's unusual, and it must have been even more so before the Beatles had come along and charted a path. Just imagine little John and Paul sitting there trying to be market research dudes!

“John’s family was rather middle-class and it was a lot of his appeal to me. I’m attracted to that type of person, particularly in the British. John had relatives up in Edinburgh and one of them was a dentist—none of us knew people like that. So I was attracted to that. It wasn’t a social climbing thing, it’s just that I find it attractive.”

Seen this quoted here before, but it's so interesting. I have lots of thoughts about Paul's ambition and the way people talk about it that I'm not really qualified to share given my non-Britishness, but I'll just say I sometimes think he gets too much flack for his desire to seek out a different sort of life and leave it at that.

For Paul McCartney, who had a fundamental need to be noticed, stepping forward with John was a natural move—he was aligning himself with someone people couldn’t avoid, and who thrust two fingers up to things in a way he envied but would rarely do in full view. At the same time, Paul could apply gloss, where needed, to minimize John’s trail of damage. Their musical group was formed in John’s image and driven ever onward by his restlessness, but without Paul he would have upset too many people too many times to make the progress they both craved.

I'm torn with this passage here, because I agree with it in many ways, but it also feels a little like he's overstepping into speculative analysis? Which is also his job in a way, so I'm not sure why I'm simultaneously nodding along and side-eying. Maybe because it makes it sound rather calculating, but for one thing is true whether Paul was deliberate about it or not and for another, that's actually a totally valid choice regardless!

Anyway that's it for now. Still getting used to his writing style, which I find somehow portentous, like he's aware every moment he is Writing About the Beatles. And still trying to put my finger on what about that is rubbing me slightly wrong. But so much information!

#please tell me if this is annoying!#Kris reads Tune In #mark lewisohn #kris talks a lot

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