#do you know how difficult it was to find a frame from this scene where dream ISNT smiling?
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#do you know how difficult it was to find a frame from this scene where dream ISNT smiling?#sandman#the sandman#netflix the sandman#dream#hob gadling#morpheus#FORGIVE ME THE QUALITY the hour is late and i am stupid
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Genuine Question: Given how much people hate problematic topics in BL eg: kp, mame, love syndrome, etc. why is everyone so damn excited about Only Friends? Like we know nothing about the show. It's GMMTV so how sexy is it going to get? you know, like it's GMMTV. I like the cast as much as anyone and particularly FirstKhao but I don't see this 'sexiness' everyone is going so crazy over? Is it some bts thing like I know the director is jojo and he's gay. Is that why everyone so excited? Is it because we just haven't gotten anything really brilliant this year that gets the whole BL fandom together and that's why people are hoping this will, is that what's going on? I like everyone involved well enough but 'sexy', 'crazy', 'problematic', 'high heat'... I don't get it.
Only Friends & Jojo
Genuine answer.
Okay so this question got me invested enough to get off the phone, over to the laptop, and onto hotel wifi, which means typos rather than dictation homophones, but there it is.
I guess what I am saying it...
mistakes will be made
From the tenor of your question methinks you have not watched Friend Zone? It's a 2 part series. Mostly messy hets but...
Also a TON of broad spectrum queer rep (lesbian, bi, ace, demi). Real queers, not sanitized for straight consumption.
Because yeah, GMMTV will get messy and go into higher heat levels in a late night way (not in a KP way).
But actually what has most people excited about Only Friends is it being sourced in this man:
Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaotong
Jojo is a screenwriter (originals) and director, openly gay, multifaceted and a little experimental, naturally talented (on the job trained - he's an archaeologist originally), and he is behind:
The Warp Effect, Friend Zone and MOST importantly (IMHO)...
3 Will Be Free
There are others too, but for the purposes of this post, those are the 3 that count. I think of him a little as the GMMTV director version of Ohm's acting.
Jojo specializes in:
ensemble pieces,
good chemistry (NOT necessarily high heat, so by this I mean actor chemistry with each other all around - couples, cast, team, production)
working with and finding actors within GMMTV's stable who work well together (even if that means busting up a pair),
a queer lens,
queer rep,
and often very messy story (as in he is not invested in the traditional beats of a romance, let alone a BL).
AND he can shoot action (this is a specific skill set for directors and it's NOT easy),
thus he will shoot his sex/intimacy & COMEDY scenes as if they WERE action sequences.
This makes his stuff particularly exciting to watch. It's dynamic, there's a lot of movement, the eye is caught and dragged places. He doesn't use dirty/peekaboo framing or central aperture or manga style (not with INTENT the way trained directors do). In fact he does none of those things I harp on about because I like the romance stuff.
He's not being clever with us. He's being honest, but still applying skill. His stuff not quite raw, but also not really directed. You can tell he gives his actors a script, throws them together and then instructs them to just BE THOSE CHARACTERS. He has a light touch, he trusts them. He's not fussy or nit-picky. He's not doing a million takes to get that sene exactly how he envisions it. His ensemble pieces are just that, group projects.
His eye is wide, even for intimacy, by which I mean: he controls and watches for multiple actors at once when there are a lot of them on screen together, without them feeling stiff.
His style is quite organic but not too gritty.
Struggling to understand what I mean?
For example, watch a Jojo "group of friends chatting" scene where everyone is just standing around then watch the same thing in, say, SCOY. You'll see what I mean. SCOY is also a very queer ensemble piece, but it will feel quite stiff, unnatural, and "planned" (staged) by comparison.
For the giffers out there you might notice that Jojo's stuff is particularly difficult to gif cleanly? This is why.
I find him an exciting director. I didn't cover him in my directors overview because at the time he hadn't done much BL (and frankly, he still hasn't). It's not his focus.
I think Only Friends is actually not likely to be very BL. Queer = yes, BL = NO. He won't hit the tropes and there is no reason to assume it will end happily for all couples (if any). That's not Jojo's point of view.
He doesn't play our game. As a result, some of those excited by the idea of this show (or excited the general enthusiasm & anticipation around it), may be doomed to disappointment.
It's one of the reasons you don't see me getting excited about it.
I'm a fan of specifically the fluffy side of BL, this will NOT be that. And I can appreciate a director without necessarily liking the stories he tells.
I am industry enough to acknowledge Jojo's skill (and I LOVE 3 Will Be Free - just not as a BL), but I don't always like his narratives. No matter how good he is, his stuff is not why I personally watch Thai BL.
It's GMMTV, so how sexy is it going to get?
Again, see Friend Zone. GMMTV has a late night pantheon, mostly for het, but they will get salacious. Lots of cheating and terrible decisions. There will be no archetypes. Characters will exist in grey areas, even the "good" characters. There will be no paladins in this show. No seme/uke.
To answer this frankly?
Only Friends will get soap opera or telenovella sexy but no more. So we will be in Midnight Chicken territory, not Bed Friends.
I think the words being bandied about:
'sexy', 'crazy', 'problematic', 'high heat'
are used here on tumblr (and in fandom) as an attempt to articulate expectations set up by Jojo's style.
Most viewers only react emotionally to the tenor of a director with this set of skills. That's fine, that's what the production company wants: A visceral emotional reaction.
But I hope I've managed to clarify from a film-critic perspective what's bringing this sensation about?
But ALSO seeing a bunch of, essentially, lower heat pure BL pairs, have to push themselves into messy queer spaces? (Notice GMMTV only let the more established actors into this one? No JoongDunk, no GeminiFourth)
This is probably really what everyone is excited about.
They are gonna see their favorites cheat, sleep around, be gay (not BL gay, but actual gay). Some are legitimately excited about this, some are shipper excited, and the BL-stans who don't know Jojo are doomed to disappointment.
I'm mostly excited by how messy this is gonna make the fandom.
Su su na.
(source)
#only friends the series#forthcoming bl#watch ABL eat crow#bl director#bl film ciritc#bl analysis#industry insider#messy gay#bl fandom#upcoming bl#2023 bl#khaotung thanawat#firstkhao#GMMTV#friend zone 2#3 Will Be Free#The Warp Effect#Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaotong
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the shakespeare exhibit - drabble 1
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: in which tara goes to your apartment for the first time
warnings: none
word count: 600+
author's note: this is set immediately before chapter 3. a little insight into R's life
previous part | next part
No fucking way, Tara thought as she stared at your apartment building. It was not what she had expected, though she wasn’t sure what she did expect--maybe something more broke-college-student-like, or a building along the lines of ‘my parents are paying for this, but it is New York City, so they found a place with the cheapest rent’.
However, where you lived was neither of these things, and that was made clear by the doorman out front (who was watching her with a close eye as she simply stared in awe) and the fact that the building itself was fancy.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrambled to her messages with you, double checking the address. Sure enough, she was definitely at the right place, so she pocketed her phone and took a deep breath in, building up the courage to speak to the doorman.
“May I help you?” he asked when she stood just feet away.
“Uh, I’m here for apartment 415?”
He nodded. “Yes, Miss Y/L/N informed me that you would be coming.” He gestured to the revolving glass door. “Right that way. You will find the elevator in the hall to your left.”
“Okay.” Tara offered him a smile. “Thank you.”
She pushed through the door and marveled at the lobby, which was not at all like her own apartment building. Your lobby was all grand chandeliers and friendly faces and people dressed to the nines walking around. Is she, like, secretly rich? No, she’d have told me. Right?
She went down the hall on her left, went up the elevator, and searched for your apartment. It wasn’t difficult to find, and she gulped as she knocked on the door that was labeled with a golden 415.
You were quick to answer, a shining smile on your face as you pulled the door open.
“Hi,” you said. Oh, that voice, she thought, grinning. “Come on in.”
She had assumed--though she supposed she really shouldn’t have--that your apartment would be just as grand as the rest of the building. And, to an extent, it was. It was an open floor plan with a large kitchen attached to the living room and a few doors that led to other rooms.
But, where the rest of the building held a certain type of sophistication and grandeur, your apartment did not. Instead, it was littered with statue busts and old paintings and tapestries and books upon books that were stacked in any place they could be stacked. Tara felt as though she had just walked into a museum rather than your home.
“Woah,” she said, trying to take everything in at once. She is such a little nerd! “This is…”
You glanced around shyly. “Yeah.” You chuckled. “I know it’s a bit much, but, well”--you shrugged--“this is everything I like. The busts are all literary figures, and the paintings are scenes from novels or plays, and the tapestries are the same.” You looked at her. “What do you think?”
I think that you vomited your personality all over this place, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “It’s beautiful.” She stepped farther in, looked at the busts up close, ran her hand over a few of the tapestries, and then came face to face with a framed letter written in nearly illegible penmanship. She turned to you. “This is…?”
“Oh! That’s a letter that Dylan Thomas wrote to my grandfather. They were friends, back in the day.” She blinked once, twice, and you giggled. “Dylan Thomas was a famous Welsh Poet. He wrote ‘And death shall have no dominion’.”
Tara nodded. “Right. Obviously.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and furrowed her eyebrows. “And you got all this stuff…how?”
“Oh.” You glanced down sheepishly, a blush painting your cheeks. “My family comes from…money,” you confessed.
“But you’re paying for your tuition?”
“Yeah, well, my parents and I cut a deal. They pay for”--you gestured around you--“all of this, and I pay for my tuition.”
Financially responsible. Noted. “Got it.”
You cleared your throat and held your hand out for her. “Should we get to studying?”
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara x reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna x reader#scream 5#scream 6#musem tara
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soft spot for trouble | part two | hbf!javi
my celluloid scenes are torn at the seams.
6.8k | javier peña x f!reader
part one | masterlist
rating: 18+ MDNI
warnings: husband's best friend, infidelity, hangover, confiding in ur bff, a lot of tears - like a lot, guilt, shame, nauseating truths, phone sex, mutual masturbation, lots of dirty talk, edging for a second, hints of subspace and papí!javi, pet names & degrading names (slut, bebita, cariño), javi would do anything to have reader and kind of says it tbh. no use of y/n.
summary: after waking up in javi– peña's house, guilt rushes you. after discovering another truth about your husband, you wonder if your marriage is salvageable.
A/N: just wanted to say thank you for all of your support and encouragement. i really appreciate the response part one received, and hope to continue loving these two as much as i do. enjoy! ♡
When you wake up, your mouth is a desert. Cigarettes, whiskey, and the faint taste of someone who wasn’t your husband coats your tongue. Head pounding, there are parts of your body you didn’t realise could even get dry. Your eyes aren’t open yet, as if you need the world to calibrate with you before you adjust to it, and when you do – you know where you are immediately.
Guilt hits you like a thousand stones to your chest.
“Fuck,” you sit up all to fast, it dizzies you, only adding to your heart palpitations. “Fuck,” you choke a sob. Fearful, panicked. What the fuck have you done?
Javi– Peña wasn’t in his bed. You weren’t sure where he was, and you didn’t want to find out. Not a single part of you could bring yourself to look at him. The two of you held a secret that shouldn’t have seen the light of day– or, the light of neon. You get flashbacks of the bar, of his hands on you. It’s all too much, rebelling up your throat as your eyes dart around in a dire need for the bathroom.
You make your way out of bed enough to hit your knees in front of the toilet bowl, the rest of your regret becoming a tangible entity residing with you in Javier's bathroom. Couldn’t get any worse. At least that’s what you think, until you come to the sinking realisation that Julian doesn’t know where you are. You place your forehead over your forearm and cry into the toilet: vomit, snot, and tears taking over your face. The prettiest sight. A hangover’s dream.
You give yourself time to be here. You knew if your husband would wait on you this long, he’d continue to be patient until you got yourself together. This truth makes your howling worse, shaking from how royally messed up your life has become within a matter of hours. It takes about five more minutes for you to regulate your nervous system enough to stand up, but everything equally feels like it’s spinning and that makes things difficult.
You groan on your way upright, letting out a heavy sigh before rising to your feet and flushing. You wash your mouth out, wash your face, try to cleanse yourself from the night before. You redirect any thought that may suggest otherwise. It wasn’t meant to happen, and Javier would know that soon.
It doesn’t take you too much longer to feel suitable in exiting the bathroom when you realise just how naked you are – completely, even. And he was right, you had a limp you couldn’t ignore. That truth, you couldn’t help but bite a grin back at. He was everywhere if you focused: you could still feel him inside you, your hips sore all the way to the apex of your thighs and down. He was everywhere. God, you were fucked up for finding it sexy.
A shirt you never really saw him in was on the bed… did he leave that for you? You slip the larger t-shirt over your frame and ignore the way it smelled innately like Javi. Peña, you remind yourself.
After the worn fabric touches your skin, you’re brave enough to tiptoe out into his living room. Your eyes scan the kitchen where he ate you out. Where he made you squirt. It all looks cleaned now, as if nothing happened. A part of you hopes it’s true, and it fights with the other side of you begging for a round two. All of the quiet giving signs of one truth: Javier is not at home. No note, no instructions if you should lock up. Just gone.
Maybe it was better that way. Loneliness didn’t creep around you in the way it would if Julian did this to you. It didn’t cause any disruption in your day, or alter it dramatically. If anything, you felt relieved you didn’t have to talk to him. To excavate an already awkward and dead situation. You took what you wanted, that was all.
You decide to utilise his shower, going back to the hellscape that was where you threw up and undressed again. You turn the dials to a steamy, hot shower – he wouldn’t mind right? You’d send him a bill. When it’s time, the water feels like a blessing as your sinuses open. Your head, less bogged down, yet a cloud of shame resides in the shower with you. You were careful not to use his products, not to smell like him if you could help it and definitely remove the scent of cigarettes from your skin… if it were possible. Regardless, you stay in the shower a little longer before it’s time to remove yourself.
Being in Peña’s space when he wasn’t here was nice. Although, it looks new… because it was. Furniture littering the living room when you’re dried and dressed. He was back from Colombia, and that’s really as much as he was willing to share. He didn’t know for how long, and it was tinged with rushed embarrassment about the issue.
But, most of his work was like that, from what you could tell. A lot of secrecy, inability to talk about his work out in the open.
He knew how to keep a secret.
No, don’t go there.
The skirt’s zipper is popped open from last night and when you try to pull it up, you resign to tie your jacket around the fabric. It’s not long before you’re out.
That was that.
But you can’t go home. You lean back against Peña’s front door when the palpitations come back in full force, as if the fresh air held truths about what you did than you could even comprehend. Fucked, you’re fucked.
Your hair is wet, you’re kind of cold even though the Texan heat surrounds you. You feel lost and scared and disgusting. And as if your mind maps your route for you, you walk to Gabbie’s instead of your own house. Knuckles graze over the door, you don’t even really know what time it is, but there’s a possibility she’s at work unle– “...Are you okay?” Gabbie looks concerned when she opens the door to find you on the other side: hungover, mascara still seemingly down your face even after the shower, your clothes reeking. She sees you for who you are, unable to stop the floodgates from lifting. Your face screws up in a weep you can’t stop, and she ushers you inside – looking behind her before closing the door.
“I… I…,” you hiccup, burying your face in your best friend’s shoulder, you feel it when she lets you give in to her. A worry comes over you, would she still support you like this after she finds out the truth? After she finds out who you really are? Repulsion grips your throat again, unable to form it. But Gabbie is tolerant, you always appreciated it about her. You needed the space to think, and she was always good at giving that to you. Something Julian was more impatient about, but it wasn’t the time to point out his shortcomings. God, your head hurt.
“C’mon, let’s get you some tea,” she whispers, curling her nose at the scent of smoke on the fabric, “and some new clothes.” You sniffle and nod, following her into the kitchen while she goes to grab some comfortable clothes for you to replace.
“What happened, honey?”
With your arms curled at the kitchen counter, you rest your head in them, “I fucked everything up.” It feels like you did, feels like you couldn’t undo this if you tried – if you even wanted to. Your voice sounds meek, whiny, you can’t believe it’s you who’s saying the words. You could and wanted to be better than you were.
“What do you mean?” Gabbie pulls a couple of cups from the cupboard before turning on the kettle, your mind not registering the irony of having hot tea for where you are in the world, but her air conditioning made the experience understandable. Really, any thought to take you out of your narrative aided in not completely fainting from the inertia of reality that stuck to the pit of your stomach.
“Julian and I,” you start. An attempt. A purchase. Something to make it less bad than how you felt, anything to take the sting away. “We-we had this big fight last night, and I-I went down to the bar and I ran into someone and…,” tears soak your face again, you choke on the sobs before you can get anything else out. You couldn’t utter it, the guilt weaves a vice grip around your voice. You couldn’t tell her it was Peña, and you couldn’t tell her you fucked anyone else but your husband. Those two truths pinned your eyes down, disabling you to look up from the granite tops.
You weren’t looking for sympathy, and Gabbie knew that. But fuck, when you look up, pity is coating her face. She mutters your name when she walks around the side and grips you in a hug. “You love him, honey. You made a mistake. What matters now is making it right.”
You’re not sure what hurt worse, the prospect of making it right or the fact that when Gabbie calls what you had with Peña a mistake, it twists a knife inside you – one you weren’t sure you could take out now.
You pull away when the kettle begins to sing and you’re able to snort a laugh at her curled nose. The scent of cigarettes, equally from Javi– Peña and the bar, circulates you. “Seriously. You need a shower.” “And those clothes, could I borrow some?”
After finishing your cup – and having a long talk, you utilise your friends shower and slip on a fresh pair of clothes – and you’re grateful for the guest bathroom stocked with unused toothbrushes. You look more presentable, and feel a little better. Albeit, feeling more indebted than before you came through the threshold of her place. “Listen, I can’t and won’t tell you to hold this secret for me. It’s too much to bear, you shouldn’t be responsible for holding this.” Your hand brushes over your face, but she’s quick to interject.
“You’re my friend. My best friend. You don’t owe me anything. I’m not going to leave you or rat you out. I don’t judge you. Just make this right, okay? I hate to see you like this.”
She’s a good friend. Makes you wonder if Julian is a friend like this to Peña. Fuck, it never ends.
You don’t know what you did to deserve Gabbie, but you hug her anyway. Your clothes in your bag, you’re on your way. You thank her, you kiss her cheek, and you look intently into her eyes before leaving.
You had to make this right.
Julian, I had an affair, you think. That’s how you’ll tell him. No. Listen, Julian – last night I got drunk. God, no. It was all wrong.
You had to tell him, but one thing was for certain: you weren’t going to say who. You just couldn’t bring yourself to split up their friendship, no matter how mutually involved Javier was. And you couldn’t bear the thought of Julian’s borderline smug expression at how correct he was in assuming the worst of you.
How he did one thing wrong and you made a dumpster fire of it.
The pounding in your head was more from tension and stress by the time you made it to your front door.
And nervous couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. Nauseous, heart pounding, sweat prickles your skin.
When you unlock the door, a new sense of silence fills the air of your home. It’s eerie, being here after doing what you did. Like your past self is slapping you in the face as soon as you close the door behind you. ‘How could you ruin this home? How could you throw away every second of time and love you poured into this relationship?’. You close your eyes, dizzy as you press the back of your head against the frame of your house – finding support, finding breath. But not finding your husband.
“Julian?” you call out, toeing your shoes off before putting your purse away; keys in the pot. Nothing. No where.
You make your way to the kitchen when you find a note.
Out with Peña. Be back soon. I miss you. – J
Fuck. Holy fucking shit. What? What?! Your mouth slacks open in shock. Followed by fear, followed by rage. Did Javier invite him out? While you were fucking asleep? You felt as though you were going to faint when you heard the phone ring. Throat dry, you cling to the edge of the tabletop before taking the phone off the hook – you shakily press the receiver to your ear. “H-hello?”
“Wow, you sound guilty,” your breath hitches and hotness washes over your skin.
“Peña, I–”
“Who’s Peña, huh? Not necessarily what you were saying last n–”
“Stop. Just stop. Where’s Julian? He left a note, said he was with you. Did you? God, I can’t even say it.”
You can hear the drag of a cigarette on the other line and it forms flashbacks you did your best to deny you enjoyed. You were so logical, so level-headed before his voice filtered through the microphone – the moment you hear the slip of nectarous syllables, you want to fold. You hated this. Pressing your forehead to the adjacent wall, the phone hangs loosely in your fist when you listen.
“I didn’t tell him anything, querida,” tears form in your eyes from your lack of control; the pet name panging you. It shouldn’t have, but goddammit. Goddammit. Your hand braces against the pillar-lengthed frame, “he’s at work now. He came by looking for you. I told him you were with me last night–”
“What the fuck, Javier.”
“People saw you leave with me last night,” your name fits in his mouth better than it should and you swallow hard, knowing he’s right. “He would have found out.”
“This has to stop, we have to stop,” you can hear it – the strain on your throat, the knife inside, that ever present hum of your doom. Your clammy palm touches your jaw as you will yourself to stand up straighter. Instantly queasy, bad idea. You sink down the wall, sitting down as the cord of the phone follows you.
“I know,” Javier whispers now, a bit pained.
“Did it hurt seeing him?” Your own voice bruised.
“Not as much as I anticipated. That hurt more, probably.”
It’s quiet for a long time. Your knees curled up to your chest, hands curled until your chin.
“I know that we have to stop,” Javi– fuck, Peña, starts, “I don’t know if I can.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, “we have to.” and it’s there. It’s right there in how you say it. How your words draw out rather than cut sharp. More beseeching than a strong boundary. An obvious sign of how you bend for him like kinetic energy’s effect on tree limbs from wind. It is all in motion, too close to stop. Your barrier is already washing away, and you cling closely to its threads. You must keep your wits about you. “We have to,” you repeat, your voice soaked in tears this time.
On the other line, Javier squeezes his eyes shut. The cigarette burns between his fingers as he presses his index and thumb where the bridge of his nose meets. And the thing with Javi, is that he doesn’t beg, but you’ve got him so wrapped up – so enthralled in what could be, maybe the chase, that he can’t see anything else. “What will it take?”
That is when you hear the doorknob turn. “I have to go,” you hush, rising to your feet and wiping your face, “can I call you later?” but he’s already hung up, so you do the same. It knocks the air out of you, but you don’t have time to dwell.
Julian turns the corner to where you are: almost hidden between the kitchen and laundry room. And if you were crying more, you’re doubled in tears now.
“Julian,” you cry, rushing to him. Your arms wrap around him and although he wraps back around you, you’re left with a sinking feeling: guilt, shame, a veracity that this touch you were feeling wasn’t half as electric as the one you felt last night. “Julian, I’m so sorry.” you snivel in his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter. The nose against your temple doesn’t feel as strong as Javier’s, and it all stings. It feels a new sense of wrong when you pull away, and he’s thumbing under your eyes.
“No, I’m sorry,” his voice is soft, beckoning you to be close, and you want to – you really want to.
But you don’t know if you can.
That rush of why this shatter exists in the first place comes in waves as it crashes into your skin – leaving a film of betrayal over every cell. Because it wasn’t just his lying that led you to the bar last night, it was the repetitious behaviour. Julian’s demanding a different treatment than what he gave. Your arms slip from him and hang by your sides, giving yourself some space.
“I guess you know where I was last night,” you bite the corner of your lip, leaning against the wall for some stability, arms crossed.
“Yeah, I went to see Peña. Was worried sick about you, you know. You couldn’t have called?” you suppose you deserved that. You nod swiftly, “I should have, I’m really sorry. I just, I needed to clear my head.”
“Well, since you stayed at his place, I hope you realise how silly this all is. How miniscule it all is. Just because I slept with Veronica–”
“Excuse me?” your eyes widen, “Veronica… Veronica… The same Veronica who you told me not to worry about?” you remember the party – a holiday party with Julian’s coworkers, one of which, Veronica. Red lipstick is easy to trace: cups, forks, your husband’s cheek.
He promised it was nothing, promised it was only a friendly kiss under the mistletoe and now, a year later, you’re in your kitchen being told that only was it something, it was something that went on for years. “How fucking long have you known her, Julian?”
When your eyes cut to him, he looks frozen. Like he didn’t mean for it to come out, and now he has unraveled such a can of worms he doesn’t know where to begin, but you sure do. He doesn’t deserve to waste another second of your time today. You felt so guilty, so wrong for every second of your day only to be lied to for who knows how long. Your mind reels at the possibilities. The double-dealing.
“I-I can’t have you in this house. I need you out. I need you out, get out. Pack a fucking bag, I need space.”
You had no room to talk, you knew that, but after a whole day of worrying yourself to the bone, and this was how it really was? The details he neglected to inform you for how long? You brush past him before he can respond, and it hurts more that he doesn’t put up a fight. Packs a bag, tells you he’s going to stay with Javier, and leaves within fifteen minutes. Your knees buckle the second the door closes behind him, heavy wails rattling your ribcage.
---
You’re not sure your face has ever been so puffy. You pour a glass of water, and you just barely remember to eat, but you do. You don’t open the blinds, though. At least you’re trying. Keeping the house dark, it’s surprising when you don’t reach for alcohol or something to numb this, but a part of you wonders if he’ll call.
And you don’t mean Julian.
The sun sets, leaving inky blue in the sky when you get ready for bed. It’s been such a long day that you couldn’t imagine staying up for a second longer. After a long bath, you change into your silk pyjamas. You’re not sure you’ve taken so many showers or baths in one day, either. That makes the stranger of an amused grin grace your features. You were washing away every memory you could from today.
Getting under the blankets, you look over to Julian’s side of the bed. How empty it was, how you missed him. You couldn’t help it. The two of you built a life together, but one that you were coming to understand was built on more lies than one and god, you just couldn’t cry about it any more tonight.
But it was lonely like this.
You wondered what the two of them were doing. If Peña– fuck it– Javi was listening to him, if Julian was lying to him. Thoughts flooded you so much the sound of the phone on your nightstand is background noise until you realise it. A gasp flutters your lungs, turning your head to it. Shit.
Picking up the phone, you place it to your ear, but you don’t say anything immediately. A nauseating twelve seconds.
“Cariño?” your breath hitches when you hear him. Sinking further down in the bed, your legs brush against the sheets and your eyes slip shut. It’s a relief where earlier in the day it was a curse.
“Javi–,” you start, tears pricking your eyes, and he’s already catching you.
“I know, baby, I know.”
And you want so bitterly to scream I’m not your baby, you don’t want anyone near you in this way after the day you had – after the deception that coated your marriage from both you and your husband lies in wait for you both to get back to. But you don’t tell him that, you don’t contest.
Instead you sniff softly and wipe your eyes. You focus on your inhales, you settle yourself down.
You are there for yourself more than anyone else could ever be.
“Is he there?” a part of you worries Javi won’t like what you asked, that he will feel slighted, but you’re relieved when he answers you without a passing judgment.
“He is, I think he’s asleep now. I’m not sure what you told him, but he was a mess. He, uh, called you crazy, though…,”
“He what?” your jaw tightens, clenching the sheets with your free hand, “He’s the fucking crazy one–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Javi’s voice hushes you in his smooth, but matter-of-fact way, and you close your mouth. “I know. I was there, remember? We all went to college together.”
“Who was the other woman? Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I’m not sure, I think she was from out of town. And I didn’t know that you didn’t know, remember? What happened?” So you explain. Tell Javi all about the way Julian assured you not to worry about her at the company party, or any time thereafter. Peña curses under his breath, “What a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah,” your jaw ticks, tempting to pull your tears back in. No more tonight.
“Seriously. You don’t deserve this. You deserve… someone who’s honest with you. For better or for worse.”
For better, for worse. You weren’t sure if Javi did that intentionally, but the vow makes you feel sick now on what was a beautiful wedding day. It’s simultaneous, the remembering of it. But you shove it down, deep. You want to forget.
So you sigh. Occiput at the headboard, and you close your eyes – just wanting some peace. A distraction, maybe? It was just so present, and it burned as strong as your desire for Javier that couldn’t be contained for a second longer. Especially not now with yet another thing on your plate pulled you away from who you thought was the love of your life.
“Where are you?” you ask, and you think it’s unassuming enough, but the slight exhale of laughter from the other end calls you out, “I’m in bed. I assume you’re the same?”
“Shocked you wouldn’t be out all night.”
“You know, I wanted to go to this girl’s place tonight, but she’s kinda going through a lot right now. Seemed a little too much,” he’s hushed now and the transition of his voice stirs your middle. It shouldn’t, but it does.
Worse, it makes you smile.
“She sounds like a bore,” you swipe a thumb over your grin, but there was some truth to that. Despite the adventurous couple days, you didn’t necessarily feel like you were an exciting person. You had a 9-5 (lucky to be off today), you had a husband. You did your activities, and you came home. This was the most excitement you’ve experienced in, well, maybe since you met Julian. There were areas you were passionate about that either got abandoned due to it not meshing with his schedule, or him not approving of it.
Was he ever good for you?
“She sounds like she needs to relax.”
“What are you suggesting?” you respond. The tension cuts like a knife even through the phone, and you can hear his own smile form. If you close your eyes, you can see it.
“It’s cute when you play dumb.”
“What? Phone sex?” you question as if your words are twisting a lock of your hair, ripe for the picking.
“Is that what this is?” Javi questions, giving you the same fake-innocence that’s being thrown at him.
“Is that what you want?”
There’s a pause, contemplative and feverish. The sound of fabric plays in the background until ultimately stillness.
“You would get off while your husband is in my apartment across the hall?” Javi’s quiet, but his words cause your legs to spread, a bitten noise in the back of your throat greets you on this hellish day on earth. “Mierda. You’re so dirty, you know that? Willing to do anything for me.”
“I’m not sure I should do anything you tell me,” you start with a flash of amusement, you’re unable to think about anything but the slick gathering between your legs, “but I want to.”
“You need it, bebita? You need me to take care of you? Because I can, but only if you tell me.”
You bite your bottom lip, slipping your head over your pillow as you get comfortable in the dark.
“Take care of me, Javi. Make me feel good.”
And it was working already, your other hand skates over your abdomen as a shiver sends through you.
“Do you think it’s that easy?” a growl behind his voice, you gasp quietly at the sound. “Beg me.”
“God, after today? Seriously, Javi?”
“Beg.”
And there’s something about the way he barks an order that makes your hole clench around nothing. Like last night when he pulled back because you weren’t giving him what he wanted right away. Makes you want to do as he says, and you can’t explain why.
“Javi,” clouded in arousal, your legs squeeze together to feel friction – 180° turn around from your protests, “I need you, I want to cum for you. Want to know how good you make me feel. Please, Javi.”
You hear Javi’s jeans unzip. Jeans in bed, the mad man.
“We’re going slow, bebita. Understand? Go ahead, slip your hand down. You'll do as I say, sí?”
Instinctively, your free hand slips down, gasping at the pool of wetness there. More than what you thought, something comes over you. The heat of pleasure washes over any other thought.
“Yes – yes, Javier. I’ll do as you say. Tell me what to do, Javi – fuck – please! Tell me how to get myself off,” your tongue darts out of your lips, brain swimming as the swell of your sex pulses in crashing undulations demanding to be touched.
And Javi fucking loves that. The desperation in your voice, wrecked with desire, and you’re so sober compared to last night. All of this is true. Your eagerness drives him to his own cliff, abandoning any remorse he has for his friend. The focus shifts on you and Javi alone.
“Take your index finger and ring finger. Are you paying attention?” you hum, focusing on those two fingers. “Yes or no, hermosa? Use your words.”
And you waste no time in humming again, spreading your wetness across your folds from the shift of your thighs. “Yes, I’m paying attention,” orbs already glossy, the lost sound of you is initiative for Javi.
“Spread your lips apart with them and lightly — I mean it, cariño,” he warns briefly, “lightly press your middle finger against your clit.”
So you do as you’re told. Your fingers are natural as they spread your lips, and you let out a heady sigh when your middle finger grazes over your clit. “S’sensitive,” you slur, biting a sob as your head rocks to the side against the plushness of pillow. “Javi…,”
“You feel that, babygirl? That's good. Keep my cunt pried open. Roll your middle finger against your clit, harder this time. That clit your husband neglects, but I found day one. Bounce the pad of your finger against it, up and down just like that. Good girl. I bet you look like a dream, princesa. Wish I could taste you…,” he trails off and you can hear the faint sound of his skin. You imagine him hard while he talks to you, the cherry of his head beading with precum as he smears it down the shaft. It sends you to whine, bouncing the pad of your middle finger – up and down, just like he instructs. You’re being so good for him, and you know it. Following what he says, word for word. Your folds feel so soft like this, you wonder if he’s telling you to touch yourself this way to absorb just how good you feel.
“Jav– I,” you swallow, the sparkle of pleasure hitting you with each pass, you need more. Need a depth to take you under more than the shallowness of this teasing. “Please,” you whisper, and you’re not sure you could elaborate. You’re so gone. It doesn’t land on you, the trust you’re placing in him and how willing he is to hold it. But it is there without putting words to it. And Javi? He is fully aware of the space you’re taking yourself to. Just for him.
“Yeah? Is that not enough? But you’re such a depraved slut I bet you could get off just by doing that, I know you could. I'll be kind, you’re welcome,” god he’s so cocky, and it’s still so sexy – how can he manage it? “Press your clit between your index and middle finger. Are you doing it?”
“Mmn’doing it,” you manage, eyes slipping shut – even in the dark, you can only focus on the way his words spill – viscous and sweet – into the telephone. “Oh, you like being called that, yeah? Are you my slut?” “Javi, Javi,” you whimper, pressure at your clit between your fingers you know you’re soaked now, “M’your slut! Fuck!” you’re panting, sweat forming at the nape of your neck.
“Good girl, princesa. Squeeze your clit – un poco, just a little. Can you do that for papí?” and fuck, you haven’t heard him say that, either. Two firsts in one phone call. Your body is in overdrive, you can feel wetness slip from your hole over the crease of your ass, against your thighs, “Flick your clit between those two fingers. Back and forth. Do it now. God, listen to you. Dirty girl wants to cum with her husband snoring in the other room. Bet that’s the first time you’ve cum in your bed in a long time.”
And you’re pathetic, whimpering like crazy as you flick your fingers back and forth around your clit. You can feel the swell, how hard the nub of nerves feels – shocks of electricity run through you, you’re so close like this. The fast motions taking you until–
“Hands off — now.” you gasp, panting against the ledge, not so silently begging for your release.
“I want to hear her. Middle finger. Don’t go all the way in.”
So you do as you’re told, your throat dry and rough. You lean the receiver to your sopping cunt so he can hear the tapping of your hole that’s so soaked it almost hurts. When you bring your phone back to your ear, you tighten it between your ear and shoulder and Javi is busy singing praises to her before he realises you’re back. He sounds different. Possessive. Just like you wanted him to be last night.
“That fucking cunt. That’s mine. That's for me. Julian called you crazy, but he ate dinner exactly where I made you cream on my fucking kitchen counter last night. He won’t say shit about you and get away with it.” He sounds hushed, but rough like this. Like you can hear him snarl those words at the base of your ear while he takes you from behind. Your heart picks up at the imagery he’s given you. The symbolism of his protection of you, and you let the flames take you.
There is no going back.
“Touch yourself. Two fingers in your cunt, roll that gorgeous clit. Perfect, messy pussy,” and you can hear it now— the slapping of his skin more intentional than before.
Your two fingers tease your hole, groaning without holding back from the touch and how wet you feel. And he was right, you were so… messy. It spreads over your outer labia, your thighs, up to your clit. All from the sound of his voice, all from his claim over you – how protected you felt. Desired. You bite your lip as you work your fingers inside, rolling your sensitive clit in lazy strokes – doing your best to keep the phone close. Moans drip easily from your wanton mouth.
“Tell me what you’re doing,” you mewl, head spinning from the way his hand is around your throat without even being there to touch you.
“Fuck. Got my fist around my cock, right at the base before bringing it up. Stroking at my head. You have it twitching, bebita. You make me so fucking hard. You’d love it. That slutty mouth would lap up every bit of precum – mierda, fuck.”
Even his muttering sounds sinful, leaving your bottom lip tucked into your mouth, sucking hard at the skin. Your hole tightens around your fingers and you work yourself to peaks, massaging your clit in deep circles that work in tandem with the repetitious tapping against that spot inside you.
“Faster,” you finally purr, unsure if you’ll find it together – but god, do you want it so bad. You’re not even sure if it’s a plea or a demand to him, but you leave it.
And he’s secure enough to let you boss him, if only for a moment.
“Fuck. You too. Now. Are you a good girl?”
“Hmmpnh,” you uselessly whimper, nodding to no one. “I’m a good girl, I’m a good girl–” whining praises over and over, Javi’s grunts got more deliberate, more in time with your puling sounds. You’re shaking, needing to be sent to your climax, you beg to him in the broken words between exhalations.
“That’s it, bebita – be a good little slut. Give it up to me – mierda, got my cock throbbing for it. Wish I was cumming in your perfect little cunt – fuck. Let go, let me fucking hear it,” there’s a pause as he huffs into your ear, his attempt to find composure, as he grits through his teeth.
“Make my fucking pussy come, now.”
That demand, that ownership is what sends you. Your body responding to it instantly, you moan – hips lifting off of the bed as you nod. Nipples standing to attention as your body rolls through waves of pleasure, cunt fluttering around your fingers so tight and rhythmically the phone drops for a moment and you can hear a loud grunt on the other line – one that was dangerously foolish, your name falling from his mouth when you both knew just who was in his house. You didn’t even care. Not one part of you was cautious in this moment as you both fell into the throes of this affair.
Your body convulses before its inevitable release. Your muscles, tense, now relax into a puddle. You sigh, pulling away from your core and skillfully avoid getting the phone sticky as you put it back to your ear.
As you’re both just a pair of lungs battling breath between the phone connection, you shift in bed, rolling onto your side, the receiver slipping to your other ear. Savouring the seconds, the feelings of connection. You realise you lack this with Julian now. You didn’t notice it before. All a feeling, and not intellectualised, but it’s palpable, like a looming presence at the bottom of this ocean.
Your thoughts come and go as a yawn finally leaves Javi, and it’s kind of sweet to hear him be soft. To hear his humanity.
“When will I see you again?” you break the silence timidly, and honestly, despite the quite literal affair happening, you’re surprised the question slips by your lips.
Who was this person Javi brought out in you?
You can recall the times the two of you shared glances in silence before this. Not so many words were shared, and back then you thought it was due to lack of interest in each other’s lives, but now… now you’re realising it’s because of the volcano bubbling underneath the surface. The potential you both share.
It was fucked, you’re fucked, and you’re scared.
But you still poke the bear because if you didn’t you knew you would spend the rest of your life curious about the cave it resides in.
Hibernation had to come to an end eventually.
“It can’t be soon,” this upsets him, you can tell, but he is nothing if not observant. How odd this would look if the two of you started to hang out. “A week or two, cariño. We can make phone calls often. But we have to wait. Can you wait?”
And you want to tell him you’d wait ages for him, but you don’t. You force the words back down your throat, and instead offer him a nod even though he cannot see it.
“I can wait, Javi. I can wait for you.”
“That’s my good girl,” his words make your heart swell with pride, “I’ll call you.” he promises and you want to believe him so you do.
“I’ll call you, too,” fast to say it back. And you don’t feel an ounce of desperation. You feel renewed. Empowered by this. Confident.
“You should get some sleep, cariño. Got a husband to fight with tomorrow. He is not staying here.”
You both laugh as it simmers into comfortable silence.
“Okay…,” you’re reluctant, but you do agree to hang up.
“Goodnight, Javi.”
“Goodnight, ángel.”
You cling to the phone, and he hangs up first. You’re left with yourself just as you were when you woke up this morning. Surprised that you feel less guilty than you did earlier in the day, how swiftly your perception has changed of Julian, of your stance with Javier. All of it. You knew that you couldn’t just leave your husband at the drop of a hat, not after this much time had been put into the relationship. But you knew nothing or no one could light you on fire the way Javier Peña did.
Finally latching the phone to the hook, you close your eyes. The stickiness of your cunt peels your lips apart when you shift, and it’s a reminder of him. Your skin grows hot, your fingers exploring yourself again – if only to touch, if only to bring him back to life just as he was speaking into your ear moments ago. “Javi,” you whisper to yourself, nipples still erect from arousal.
And so you go again, with yourself, to make yourself feel good. Not for Julian, and not for Javier.
For you.
Until your core is shaking, your spent body spreading over the bed when sleep finally takes you.
When was the last time you did that? When was the last time you spent time on yourself rather than making sure your husband’s pleasure was prioritised? You weren’t sure, but you didn’t have time to dwell. Not with your eyelids getting heavy, drowned in your self-gratification. This was the start of something new. A new version of yourself actualised.
If anything, you were grateful for Javi’s presence. Whether he was doing this selfishly or not, this shook you to the core. He was waking you up.
And you had so much more to learn about yourself.
taglist: @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @sinfulrock @jasminedragoon @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin - comment to be added! if i missed you, please remind me!
#narcos fic#javier peña#javier peña smut#narcos#javier peña x f!reader#pedro pascal#javier peña fic#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x afab!reader#narcos smut#hbf#hbf!javi#husband's best friend#by bee
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𝐑𝐄��𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌! sano siblings
title is self-explanatory. y'all read smut together and what their reaction will be.
♱ ft. shinichiro, izana, mikey, emma
♱ c/w. MATURE. all characters are aged up 18+. f! reader, shinichiro; cnc, cunnilingus // izana; mutual masturbation, humping // mikey; unprotected sex, creampie // emma; scissoring, noncon filming
♱ a/n. am I planning to do this for other characters as well? YUP. my requests are close but I'll make an exception for this one— hmu and lmk who you wanna see next. right now, I'm thinking Kazu, Draken, Chifuyu, and Baji. other fandoms are welcome too! I have a jjk version in my drafts as well <3
𓆩♡𓆪 SHINICHIRO
It was difficult to keep a straight face while reading the obscene content your favorite author had just posted. Normally, you wouldn't have to conceal your reactions as you grew on being used to reading the material even though when you're not in private. But this particular chapter was spicier and filthier than the previous ones. You were already struggling to squint your eyes and read through the dark screen which brightness you've decreased earlier, cautious about your boyfriend seeing a glance of what you have been reading.
It wasn't like he'd be offended if he finds out you're reading sexual material instead of going to him, but you genuinely didn't know how he will react about it. “Babe, may I borrow your phone? Mine's dead and I need to call grandpa. Let them know I'm having dinner with you.” Your biggest fear at the moment seemed to have manifested when Shinichiro asks you. You yelp, immediately closing the app then turning the brightness back up before lending your phone to him.
You threw him multiple side glances as you waited for the call to end, in order to take your phone back. “Alright, tell them I said goodnight.” He bids the old man good bye before tapping on the red button. But for some unfortunate reason, he accidentally taps on the app after pressing "home", seeing a preview of what you have been busy reading for the past hour.
“Oh, I'm not— I wasn't supposed to see that, I'm sorry.” He rambled, handing the phone back to you. “See wha–” when you look back down at the screen, it was currently displaying the dirty scene you have been reading. “Oh, I'm... sorry—”
“No, no, if you like reading those kind of stuff, then it's fine, I—” He rambled on once more. Your eyes widen, Shinichiro was probably assuming you were exclusively reading the sexual content. “Oh, no! This is some sort of Romantic novel, wanna see?” You explained, immediately heading to the series' synopsis page. “No, it's fine, I believe — wow.” You showed him the story's plot, and he may have seem interested in it.
So instead of sticking to your original plan of going out to dinner, you stayed at your place, letting him catch up with the story's previous chapters while you also ordered food in. Until he'd finally caught up, and you were now reading together the part you have left off.
“These are so well-written, [Y/N].” He approves, genuinely devoted to the story. These may only be just graphic descriptions of a mature scene, but hell it was way better than the ones he'd watch or look at when he was younger. Cuddled up under the sheets, you chuckle, taking one of his hands to press a kiss over his knuckles. "What do you think, maybe we can... try this?" You suggest, pertaining at the current scene where the man was pleasuring his half-asleep lady.
“Well, if it's okay for you, and you want to, then let's do it.” He smiles, pressing a kiss on your cheek before putting your phone away with a yawn. “Thanks for introducing me to this, good night, love.”
He may have been nauseatingly sweet that night, but the next morning, as soon as his eyes wake, he thought of your suggestion last night, his dick bricking up in an instant from the thought as he admired your sleeping frame. So he didn't waste time in crawling under the sheets, ridding you of the panties under your nightgown.
He was met with the sight if your glossy pussy lips matching his aroused cock. With a smile and warm blush, he peppers soft kisses over your hips and lower belly, thumb tracing soft circles on your thighs to gently wake you.
“Mhmm” When he reached down, his lips immediately latched to your folds, now making out with your wet lips. You started to shuffle in your sleep, feeling particularly aroused when your lids wake. When you look down, Shinichiro had been lapping up your wet folds, lewd slurping sounds and his tongue easily slid through. You were only just dreaming of this.
“Hngg— gah— good morning, babe.” You manage to speak out, cradling his pretty face in your palms. He smiles, eyes curling in crescent lines as response before proceeding to suck on your clit then thrust his tongue inside your warm hole.
and that was just one of the many things you wanted to try with him that had finally been checked off, thanks to internet smut.
𓆩♡𓆪 IZANA
For today, you and Izana decided to stay home due to the long day you just had and neither of you were really in the mood to go out. So here you are on the comfort of your bed, Izana had his back rested on the headboard; hands busy fiddling with the game controller while your legs laid comfortably on his lap.
It seems as if the two of you were on your own worlds with you busy reading an explicit story on your phone. You can't help but smile from reading the graphics depictions of amorous exchange between the characters, switching from interacting with the post then leaving comments about the work. Now, from Izana's point of view, it seems that you were happily texting with someone. Way too happy.
So when he took the controller down after a round, he wanted to check on his girl, only to see her smiling foolishly on her phone like a teenager in love. “Who're you talking to?” He questions. You mentally cursed, now aware that he was finished with his game. “Who?” He asks once more when you only remained silent in response.
“It's no one, Izana. I'm just reading a really good story, that's all.” You truthfully answered, not wanting him to assume that you were talking to someone else. So you showed him the screen you were on. Of course, Izana knows that he's the only guy who can have you smiling like that. But what were you reading that was so good?
“Good read?” He asks, switching his game off before applying gentle squeezes on your leg as a massage. “Yeah, it's a romance story.” You simply answered, not wanting to bore him with it's details. But Izana was particularly feeling generous at the moment, wanting to spoil his pretty girlfriend who was busy reading someone else's fictional romantic life on her phone.
“May I see?” With his strong arms, you were lifted off your current position to lay you on his chest, with your phone now on Izana's right hand. He read one line out, naughty words slipping easily through his tongue. “Oh,” He chuckled softly, looking down at you. “Are you reading porn?” He asks. “Well if you put it like that—”
He only huffed in response, relaxing his hand over his abdomen as he joined reading with you. “Oh fuck,” He doesn't seem like a guy who would get into written sexual material, and he didn't expect him to be so intrigued by it either; but the tall tent he just pitched proved him wrong. Izana's hand never stopped roaming your ass ever since you settled into your current position either, his digits only trailing further into your intimate area.
So you took the matter with your own hands, granting his neediness by slipping a hand under his boxers then taking his hard-on in a fist. “Hmmph” He hummed in pleasure, eyes still fixed on the descriptions of the steamy exchange on your phone. It's as if he was living the character's place with your hand wrapped around his long cock, treating it with slow, sensual strokes.
“Ah—” You didn't realize you were rubbing yourself against his thigh when your clit started to feel sensitive, slick damp against your panties and Izana's tan skin the faster your movements grew. Izana had finally finished reading the scene, shoving your phone under the pillow before tugging hard on your hair— “Fucking yourself into me like a bitch in heat? Dirty girl...” He taunts before having you trapped under his touch, your wrist still steadily stoking his length when he shoves two fingers into your pussy.
“AH— hmmm—” Your yelp of surprise was muffled by his lips locking with yours, drowning any sound that dared slip out of you. His fingers kept curling and pumping, banging against your g-spot before feeling his heaving chest press against yours.
You pressed your thumb over his leaking slit the same time his digits pushed your clit, causing you to pull away from the wet kiss in order to let each other know how amazing that felt.
Now, you didn't regret staying inside with him, but you sure did regret keeping smut a secret from him for quite a while now...
𓆩♡𓆪 MIKEY
He was well-aware of such content existing in the internet, having heard Emma talking to her friends about "fanfiction" about fictional characters from her favorite show; as well as some of his own friends talking about obscene genres of manga— which he have seen for himself, but didn't bother dedicating time to it like they did. So, he figured that there's some sort of steamy narrative content existing out there.
He also knew about your liking on reading. Whether on physical book copies or digital ones, he noted about your interest in the art of writing. Sometimes, he'd even lay on your lap as you read through yet another book. But he had no clue of what type or genres of books you were into. So when he sees you seated on the couch, this time with your nose practically buried on your phone screen, he accompanies you on the soft cushions, making himself comfortable by your side before letting his head fall on your shoulder.
“Hi,” You didn't take your eyes off the screen when you gave him a small kiss on the forehead, then instinctively combing your free hand through his bright, blonde locks. “How many books have you read?” He asks. “I stopped counting,” You truthfully answered. He nods, wasting no time to ask you what he had been thinking of for quite some time. “Is there like, written porn?” He spat, genuinely curious and wanted to make sure. You were taken aback by his out-of-the-blue question, causing you to stop scrolling down.
“Uh, yeah... I'm kinda reading one right now.” You admit. “What, really?!” He jumped from your embrace, before leaning back down towards your phone to inspect what you have been reading. His eyes remained opened from surprise about how detailed and well-written the scene is— fueling his imagination as if he was seeing it with his own eyes. “It's about two ex lovers who met again. She's single, but he's a widowed single father now so they're like, trying to get back together. It's a really long story so I'm glad they're finally hooking up.” You gave your boyfriend some context as he kept himself busy by reading; obviously entertained and intrigued by the writing.
When he started scrolling the screen for his eyes to see more, you smile to yourself, shaking your head slightly before shifting back to your previous position with his head rested on your shoulder. This time, you were going through the part of the story together. Every paragraph described more intensity of the characters' intimate moment, making it hard for you to contain the unsteady breaths you're making because of the spicy scene you were imagining. The presence of Mikey didn't help either, especially when his palm is latched on your thigh, fingertips curling and pressing harder and harder the further you scrolled through the story.
However, it cuts right on a particularly hot moment, but they were yet to finish. You scroll further down only to realize that the story had ended and the next chapter doesn't come out until the next week, so you toss your phone off in slight frustration and anticipation for the next scenes.
But when you turn back to Mikey, his lips met yours in a hurry for a needy, messy kiss which you returned instantly. He wasted no time in pushing you down the couch, desperate to relief the aching rush down his pelvis. He just read an erotic material with his girlfriend, of course, it was an arousing moment. He couldn't stop picturing the two of you in place of the characters— his lips claiming every inch of your hips and waist, fingers nudging against your sensitive clit while you cried pleasure of praises for him.
So then he did that, remembering every word of every movement describing their intimate actions, then doing the same for you. It didn't take more of his hot, wet kisses on your hips before he had your legs over his shoulders, rolling his bare hips against yours in slow, deep strokes. You never had the chance to be this gentle with Mikey ever since your first time, so it was a nostalgic, pleasing, and sweet moment for the both of you.
Til he remembers the last thing the guy did before the story was oh-so-teasingly cut, deciding to try it for himself. “L-lift yourself from the seat, h—ah—honey.” He babbled and you oblige, watching him take one of the pillows to lay under your lower back. Once you laid back down, the new angle caused his dick to slip and hit deeper inside of you, surely nudging your cervix. Both of you moaned loudly from the feeling, only for him to slam and plunge faster and harder inside of you.
By the end of the day, he had you squirting hard on your couch, with his thick release attempting to spill out from your hole.
...and that was the day when you started inviting Mikey to read particularly filthy stories with you.
𓆩♡𓆪 EMMA
Your chest was pressed against her back, one arm draped over her waist to trace figures on her delicate skin. You were both reading a series you both love and have been following for a while now. In fact, she was the one who introduced you to it, and now both of you are hooked to different stories and oneshots.
“I think they're about to bang, I'm calling it.” You chuckle, after reading one particular line. Emma agrees with a sweet laugh, then proceeding to scroll to the next scene. and both of you were right, now that the characters had each other up against a wall and devouring one another's lips.
It didn't take long for them to discard their clothes as well, and now you noticed the screen slightly shaking from how weak Emma's hand have been. It was easy to tell that your girlfriend was starting to get aroused by the scene. “Want me to hold that for you?” You offered, wrapping your hand around hers before taking the phone in your own palm.
And so you resumed with reading, making sure to plant a soft kiss on her temple. It was now easier to read for the both of you with your steady hand holding up the screen, before you felt Emma's hands take your free arm to wrap around her waist. Your heart eroded into smithereens from her small gesture, and you could only look at her in response. Her beautiful cheeks were covered in a warm blush while she continued to read the text on the phone, and you couldn't get yourself to take your eyes off her flushed face to continue reading.
“You can scroll down, babe.” She asks. However, you couldn't seem to understand what she was saying when she looked so adorable while reading the story. “Babe?” She finally turns her head to yours, only to meet your eyes already lovingly staring at her. You shared an intense stare down for a moment before you slowly leaned forward, hovering your lips over hers before kissing her top lip. She remained still for a moment, letting your lips lock with hers and parting her lips wider with every time you incorporate your tongue.
But just as she let her eyes fall and melt into your touch, you pull away, rolling onto the other side to take her phone down. Emma was left with her eyes opened once more, watching you move over the sheets with only your skimpy top and panties.
And your mental plan worked, leaving her wanting for more when she hovered herself over your frame, dipping down for more kisses. You returned them with the same intense pecks, sighing into the steamy moment before letting your hands roam her arms.
You felt Emma's kisses started to grow needy, so you opened your legs in response for her to situate herself in. You took easily slipped off each other's cute panties through the heated kiss before feeling Emma's pulsating folds slick against yours. “Hah—good girl,” your hands flew over her hips, trying not to get too caught up in the pleasure and needing to be able to concentrate your attention on Emma, letting her set the pace.
You met into the right rhythm soon enough, allowing your clits to bump against each other with the help of your slick folds. Her hips were skillfully rotating against yours, movement growing vigorous with every passing second. “[ Y / N ]...” Your name came out sweetly among her whines, hips rolling faster and desperate for release.
Her phone wasn't far enough and so you decided to open it once more, exiting the app you were just reading on before opening the camera, making sure it was on front view before setting it back down to capture the perfect shot of your pussies, and close enough the pick up the amplified sounds of your wetness rubbing together.
Emma has been talking to you about starting to write soon, maybe she could use this as a reference when she decides to do so...
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers imagines#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers smut#shinichiro x reader#mikey x reader#izana x reader#emma x reader#shinichiro sano#izana kurokawa#manjiro sano#mikey sano#emma sano#shinichiro x reader smut#izana x reader smut#mikey x reader smut#emma x reader smut
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𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧
*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: after a long day at work, the only thing Spencer wants to do is go back home to his family.
• Warnings: none, just fluff.
• Word count: 1814.
• A/N: here is my first Spencer fic. It’s ugly as fuck and I wanted it do be better but I hope you’ll like it, I’m sorry for this but it’s just a period of time where I’m not feeling 100% myself so that’s what I managed to do lol. Let me know what do you think, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Thank you for your constant support. Love you all ❤️
Spencer was as tired as he'd been a few times in his life.
The case the team had worked on had been particularly stressful, tiring and draining like few others and even though it had only been four days since the team had left for Boston, it felt like they had lasted forever.
And the distance from his family helped to further increase this already particularly precarious state of mind. It wasn't the first time he was forced to fly away for days to another city for work but that didn't make it any easier, especially then, because it wasn't just you and him anymore, but there was also little Reid.
It was incredible how such a small little being had managed to turn his life upside down, in such an overwhelming way he couldn't even stay a minute without thinking of him and without feeling the desire to hold him in his arms and fill him with cuddles.
Even staying away from you had become much more difficult than he could’ve ever imagined. He couldn't quite explain why, but ever since the baby was born he felt the bond with you had strengthened even more. He had heard so many stories of couples who couldn't resist, who got carried away by events and weren't strong enough to overcome the present difficulties and it was impossible to explain why, God, he worshiped the earth you walked on and he would’ve done anything to ensure your well-being, after all it was the least he could do for the mother of his child.
Ever since you told him you were pregnant and throughout the pregnancy until you became parents, it was as if he started to look at you with different eyes and the love he felt towards you increased dramatically, which he didn't even believe possible since he already loved you like crazy like he never did in his life.
Seeing you become the beautiful mother you were meant to be, carrying his child, God, he would’ve impregnated you every day if he could and if it was simple.
If anyone had ever told him he’d find the love of his life, that he’d marry you and have a child with you, he would probably have burst out laughing because he never, ever expected to be overwhelmed by such joy and to experience such a miracle.
And it was enough for him to cross the threshold of your home for him to feel that emptiness inside him finally filled again, happiness crossing him when he heard your voice mixed with little Reid's giggles.
Spencer walked into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest as he took a moment to watch you and your baby together. He was sitting in his high chair, his little legs and arms flapping in the air, his little face dirty with the food you desperately tried to give him but which he refused.
That simple scene put a huge smile onto Spencer's face and it was at that precise moment he wondered how he had ever lived without this.
You were gorgeous. Your hair gathered in a bun, your home clothes slightly soiled with food while you tried to distract your little one so you could feed him but in doing so you yourself distracted yourself, not realizing Spencer's presence.
Damn it, how had he gotten so lucky? What had he done to deserve such a perfect family?
“Hello my loves,” Spencer had announced and at that point you turned abruptly towards him, a huge smile on your face not expecting to see him and the spoon suspended in mid-air.
“Baby oh my god! When did you come back?!” you asked and before you could get up to say hello he approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving you a kiss on your lips. He wanted that little kiss to last forever, making him realize how much he missed you, so much more than he thought.
“I just got back darling, I wanted to surprise you,” he replied with a smile on his lips and stroking your hair before returning his eyes to his baby, who at the mere sight of his father began to fidget more in his high chair, a huge smile on his little face. “And who do we have here? Hey, you little one! Come here to your pops.”
Before you could object by telling him you were trying to get him to eat, Spencer took him in his arms and the joy that overwhelmed him when after all that time he hugged his son again was priceless. “God I missed you so much little man,” he murmured as he kissed his little one's chubby cheeks not caring they were dirty with food. His laughter echoed through the kitchen, making your heart leap with joy.
It was so hard when Spencer was away for work, you couldn't deny it, but it was times like these that made the distance, the anxiety and worry worth it.
“You treated your gorgeous mom right huh? Have you been a good boy?” Spencer asked, as if his son could answer.
“Da-da-da...” the little boy kept babbling and you wanted to immortalize Spencer's expression after hearing his son say 'dad' for the first time.
“What?” Spencer murmured, incredulous, looking at you for a moment just to make sure you heard that too. “Can you repeat for me baby? Dada, yes say it again, da-da.”
“Da-da-...” your baby kept babbling while his sticky little hands continued to touch his father's face and it was at that moment you noticed Spencer's eyes fill with tears, while he tried to hold them back and not cry. Out of joy and contentment he started to kiss and tickle his baby, over and over again, eliciting uncontrolled laughter from him.
“Yeah! That's my buddy!” Spencer exclaimed before showering the boy with kisses, who kept squeezing and returning those kisses as best he could. “Yes! Oh my god! Yes I’m your dada!”.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he whispered, rubbing his nose tenderly against his son's. Your heart peeped into your chest and never as in that precise moment you felt more proud of your family, of the love your child would always receive from both parents.
You continued to watch that tender and very sweet scene, Spencer who continued to talk and look at his son as if he was the most beautiful of wonders.
Spencer wasn't joking when he said that little creature had saved his life, he made him a better husband, a better man, he made him love life even more and had made him understand how precious it was.
He had never been good at dealing with feelings, he was a scientific person, he believed in science, in evidence, in hypotheses that were verified, but everything that happened to him when he was with you, with his baby, was beyond rationality, the love he felt for you two couldn’t be described, it was a visceral love that could not be enclosed in a few simple words.
“You are the best thing that has happened to my life, your mom seriously couldn't have given me a better present and I am so proud of you,” he kissed mini Spencer's little forehead “I'm so sorry I was gone buddy, I’d never want to be away from you and your mama.”
He directed his gaze to you for an instant, a frown on his face as he noticed the tears streaming down your face, which you tried to wipe away in time but to no avail.
“Hey, baby what's wrong? Come here.”
Spencer drew you to him and surrounded your shoulders with his free arm, squeezing you and leaving a kiss on your forehead. “Nothing bad love, it's just… I'm so happy, you make me so happy. I couldn't ask for a better father for my son.”
He smiled but burst out laughing immediately afterwards when your baby stretched out his arm towards you and grabbed a lock of hair that had escaped the bun with his little hand, ruining that beautiful moment. Damn, how could a person of not even 50 centimeters tall have such strength?
“Hey, hey, no buddy no hurting mommy,” Spencer interjected, pulling your hair out of his hand.
“Oh you're so lucky you're so cute or you were going to have some problems mister, yeah! You're so cute baby, you like hurting mama yeah? Can you say mama?” you said smiling, however pointing a finger at him while instead he continued to laugh and giggle in Spencer's arms, amused by the situation.
“Da-dada-da…”
Your smile instantly disappeared from your face and Spencer started laughing heartily again, head thrown back.
“Yeah! That's my little boy! Dada yes!” he exclaimed, lifting him back into the air a couple of times before showering him with kisses.
“Oh so that’s how are things going mister? Did I go through 20 hours of labor for being disrespected like this?” you affirmed with feigned disappointment and hands on hips, but trying not to smile when you saw Spencer jumping and playing with the baby.
“I love you mommy but I love dada more,” Spencer raised his voice a couple of octaves in an attempt to mimic a child's.
“You're gonna pay so much for this Dr. Spencer Reid.”
“I’ll wait for you with immense pleasure my darling,” he winked at you and just that small action made you want to have ten more children.
You sighed, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “Since you're such best friends you'll be the one to keep feeding him while I'm going to take a nice hot bath,” you approached Spencer, giving him a kiss on the cheek and whispering in his ear “And I'll think of you so intensely when I'll be naked as I soap my wet body and touch myself.”
Spencer was mesmerized and paralyzed for a moment, his blood instantly flowing to his private parts at the mere thought of you naked. His eyes scanned every inch or of your body, devouring your ass with his gaze until your figure disappeared down the aisle.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, “You heard that buddy?” he turned to the baby “How about we take a deal? Now you'll be a good boy and you'll eat everything okay? So I'll give you a nice bath and you'll go to sleep, because dad misses mom so much and he would love to be alone with her. Yes little one, you’re such a good little boy,” he continued carefully placing his baby in his high chair and tying the hooks before starting to feed him again “I’m so proud of you, yes keep eating so in a while it will be dada's turn to pull mama’s hair.”
General Tag List: @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone
Spencer Reid tag list: @hngbrooks, @blorp-bee
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#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid masterlist#spencer reid gifs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x self insert#y/n#reader#female!reader#fluff#one shot#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#imagines#imagine#oneshot#fanfic#fanfictions#fanfiction#writing#fanfic writing#x reader
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4 Ways to Get Back Into Your WIP
You know when you might have taken a long break, worked on other projects, talked to other people about it, and basically did EVERYTHING to get yourself back into it, but it’s not working?
Even though you still want to LIKE your WIP and work on it?
These tips are based on my own experience dealing with that feeling. I went through something like that for around a year, but now, I’m getting past it and returning to my main WIP more excited than I’ve been for a long time!
1. List out WHAT you don’t like and fix it
COMMON CORE ISSUES:
Plot + Subplots?
They might seem too (among other things):
lackluster
complex
unnecessary
confusing
You might not know how to:
develop the plots
make them believable
add the scenes you want without giving the book 800+ pages
choose scenes to cut to fit the word count goal...
Characters?
A BIG ONE: some writers try to force themselves to like X character for whatever reason (e.g. based them on a specific aesthetic, felt forced to add specific rep, etc), but they just DON’T.
Or, maybe:
you don’t know how to develop your characters
their group dynamic is too difficult to write/doesn’t make a lot of sense
your character voices, personalities, or appearances might not be distinct enough
Prose?
You might:
want to add more humour (prose is too depressing and atmospherically dark)
want to add more gravity (prose is too comedic and romantic)
want to shift from past to present tense, want to tell story from another POV, etc.
Organization?
OFTEN, the book’s just TOO COMPLEX with all the characters, subplots, etc. and it’s too intimidating to try to sort out all the mess that’s your WIP
SO…
The lists I gave you are most of the big, common issues. Once they’re sorted into SPECIFIC types of problems, don’t they get less intimidating to look at?
I know you might think, gee, Grace, these problems will take [insert comically large time frame] to solve.
Well, if you genuinely want to like your project again and work on it, DO IT.
Slowing down your WIP finish date is worth it if it helps you get back into it. If you never get back into the project, you’ll NEVER FINISH IT. Late > never.
Heck, you might not even be too late—you might find yourself back in the passionate fever you were when you started it, and be in the headspace to write furiously :)
I think you know how to solve these broken-down problems. Some require more sheer line-editing, while others require big executive decisions (e.g. getting rid of a character or rewriting an entire subplot/the plot). But, it will be worth it when you start to love your project again.
2. Remember why you started it
Before each project, write a STATEMENT OF PURPOSE at the beginning of your doc to remind you why you’re writing this story in the first place. If you didn’t do this, it’s not too late to start one now!
It could be something as close to heart as “I want to express how unrequited love feels,” or something as grand as like “I want to write a tragic allegory of the political and economic state of the world that explores human nature” (I am projecting in both of these examples, but you get it).
Something SPECIFIC is a lot better for this than things like: “I told X this story idea and they liked it,” or “I promised to write this for X,” or “I want to tell this story just cuz.” These latter examples probably won’t fill you with passion.
3. Listen BEYOND your WIP playlists. Look at images BEYOND your WIP aesthetics
Many people think revisiting your old playlists / boards help, but that often contributes to the staleness!!!!
Instead, by purposefully expanding your scope of consumed media, you open yourself up to more inspiration and ideas of where you want to take your project. New images and new songs will give you new ideas on atmosphere, mood, scenes, and so much more.
4. Compare your WIP to a similar book you like
You know THAT BOOK that comes to mind whenever someone asks you which book is your favourite/impacted you deeply? Think of how your book will impact readers in the same way. All the emotional turmoil and mental enlightenment That Book gave you is what YOU will give to the readers who resonate with YOUR book one day!
The author of the book you’re thinking about went through drafts, edits, and maybe even wanted to give up at some point, (LIKE YOU!) but pushed through it. Now, their book is on the bestseller list/on a bookshelf/a classic (whatever appeals to you)! Don’t stop before YOUR book is there, too.
∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘
instagram: @ grace_should_write
A LOT of this comes from personal experience; I had this mental tussle with my main WIP a while back, so I hope this helps anyone else dealing with the same problem :)
Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated <3333
Happy writing, and have a great day!
- grace <3
#writers on tumblr#writing#writing tips#booktok#writer#writeblr#novel#writerslife#writergram#wattpad#creating characters#wip#ya fantasy#plot holes#characters#writing ideas#writing a book
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟔 ❛ 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 ❜ | NAKAWE SACRARIUM, DEC. 1990
❧ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.
❛ As Mateo probed, Leonor allowed their father’s responses to crest and crash over her. Each question cast a shadow. Each answer, the impact. She could see the scene he described playing out. They stood in the courtyard of the sacrarium, but they also stood out on the deck of the Safyanora. They watched. Although not up close, Leonor had seen the yacht. She recalled enough to have a stage for the tragedy that unfolded; years of memories brought to life the clouded, halting admissions her father uttered. They were ghosts on the deck, shouting at each other and breaking things and following the only script they knew.
❧ poor gil left out of the family huddle :/ i wonder where he is
𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓
It was true what she said—that she hadn’t wanted to think about it. Leonor knew on some level that, while she and her brothers were cloistered away at Nakawe Palace, the police questioned her father and the other passengers well into the next morning. They pieced together a version of events, and they shared that story with Mother Beatriz. The children received the barest fact: she had accidentally drowned. That was what Leonor’s mind fixed upon. Her mother’s absence, so fresh that it was difficult to truly grasp, took the form of Safya submerged, screaming, terrified. When Rodrigo entered the frame, it wasn’t as a comfort or a consolation. He was the anguished figure apologizing to her at the marina while flashbulbs remind them of the harrowing truth at the heart of their existence: ‘ Nothing is ever simple, and no one has ever respected her privacy. ’
Although unwilling to shy away herself, Safya had been fierce in defending her children from the harsh scrutiny inherent to public life. She insisted they receive the benefit of childhood. Mateo and Gil, still, enjoyed the privacy that propriety demanded for them. For her part, Leonor was no longer a child but had yet to find the spotlight glaring. She stood on the periphery where her mother, tall and strong, happily shaded her. The death was disorienting; in an instant, it plunged the family into a state of suspension. Yet, that great and awful pause, the moment after an explosion of tragedy knocked them to the ground, was coming to an end. It was Rodrigo who seemed to regain his senses first. In doing so, he reminded them that their mother was also no longer there to shield them. The shade was gone.
TRANSCRIPT:
[R] Can I disturb you?
[R] I’m not sure it’s a good time for quiet reflection—not for me, not yet. I need to talk to you, if that’s okay.
[R] Nora?
[L] Okay.
[R] I’ve missed you. I’ve been worried about you.
[R] You must have questions—about everything, her, what happened that night. How could you not?
[L] I didn’t want to think about it.
[R] You need to know it was a terrible accident.
[L] I do.
[R] There was ugliness, but it was normal. Everything was going to be fine, and then she just never came to bed, and I—
[M] Why are you out here without me?
[R] Where’s your brother?
[M] Are you talking about her?
[R] {Sighs.}
[R] Fine, together. There’s no good time for this conversation. Sooner is better. I was telling Leonor about what happened, how she—
[M] She fell and drowned.
[R] Yes. But, well, you know what happens to us. Nothing is ever simple, and no one has ever respected her privacy. I just want you to be prepared for what comes next. Everyone else. The press. Others.
[M] I don’t … That’s not … Why would they do that to us?
[M] You know why, sprout.
[R] I want you both to be brave and strong. But, you can’t do that unless you … Unless you feel like you know what’s going on. You can’t be in the dark about anything. I don’t want that—she didn’t, wouldn’t.
[M] Did you fight?
[R] We did.
[M] … Did anyone get hurt, before—?
[R] A bottle broke. That’s this—see, small cut, that’s all.
[M] And her?
[R] She was drunk. Stumbling around, falling down.
[M] Why were you fighting?
[R] {whispering} We never needed a reason, did we? I don’t even remember. She walked off, and I went to bed, just exhausted, and then … She wasn’t there. She was gone, disappeared. Gone. I … I wish I hadn’t—
{Rodrigo sighs, shakily.}
[M] I’m sorry.
[R] I’m sorry. She should be here with you.
[M] We still have each other. We’re still a family.
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Happy Winter Sleepover! ❄️
“Send me a scene from one of my fics and I’ll write it from the other persons POV”
I was wondering what Anna’s POV would be like from “Come in Raven, This is Blackbird” 🥰
Hello my lovely! So at first I wasn’t sure how to do this but after thinking about it for awhile, I decided to write this as a memory for Anna Raven. I made her around preteen age here, I hope you like it!
Memory from Come in Raven, This is Blackbird: Anna POV
Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Word Count: 795
A/N: Tiny surprise at the end 😉
Part of The Sweetest Pain Series
The silver picture frame felt cool against your fingers. Along the top of your dresser, you had a handful of picture frames. The photos inside ranged from when you were a baby all the way up until your first dance with your friends last year.
The one in your hand was from when you were a toddler, on vacation with your parents, your Uncle Frank and Auntie Maria, and their two kids, Junior and Lisa.
Every summer from when you were small, you would go upstate to a cabin in the woods for an extra-long weekend and for your annual “hunting” trip. You had a vague memory of your first time in the woods, holding your tiny water pistol and Uncle Frank trying to teach you how to work the walkie talkie.
In order to hold the radio, you had to put your water gun down. It was big so you had to hold it with both hands; it made it difficult to push the button so you could talk into it.
Hiding behind a massive tree, Uncle Frank showed you how to talk into the radio.
“Where’s the button, Little Raven?” He had asked you. Now, even though you were almost a teenager, he still called you “Little Raven.” Everyone did.
Uncle Frank’s voice was always low and husky sounding when he talked to you, as if he was trying not to scare you by the loud booming voice he normally had.
“That’s it. You push that button and you can talk to Daddy, yeah? And if he calls us first, we say ‘Go for Blackbird.’” He said with a slight smile. “But we have to be really quiet because Mommy is looking for us and she’s not on our team.” Uncle Frank put his finger up to his lips to make the “shhhhh” sound and you copied him, using the antenna on the radio instead of your finger.
“Ok, Uncle Frankie…shhhhh!” You had said. “Not let Mommy find us.”
You remembered hearing the wind blow the dry leaves across the forest floor and it scared you a little. You didn’t know if it was Mom, Junior or Lisa.
Looking up at the trees, they were so big compared to you and warm rays from the sun touched your cheeks. They didn’t look THAT big to you anymore but they still loomed large above you. And you didn’t have to hold the walkie talkie with two hands anymore.
That first trip was a lot of fun. You do remember that, shouting into the radio, giving away Dad’s position, and Uncle Frank trying to correct you on what you were SUPPOSED to say when you answered.
You were just really excited to hear Dad’s voice over the radio.
“This is Blackbird, this is Blackbird…come in Raven.” You heard Dad say.
When you heard Dad’s voice, you couldn’t contain your excitement so you just blurted out, “Hi, Daddy!!!”
Uncle Frank covered his eyes with his palm. “Sweetheart, what did we practice?!” He said as he picked you up and placed you on his hip.
You smiled when you heard Mom’s voice on the radio; she told Uncle Frank she shot Dad right between the eyes. You couldn’t remember the entire conversation over the radio but Uncle Frank told you to say hi to Mom and she taught you to say “over and out.”
The picture was from your very first trip to that cabin. You were wearing a camouflage outfit that Auntie Maria had made for you at your Uncle Frank’s request, according to your Dad. Mom hadn’t seen the outfit yet so she burst out laughing when she saw you.
Through her laughter, she had said, “Really Frank? A Rambo headband?!”
You had the headband on in the photo. It really was a fun trip as was every visit to the cabin since then.
“Whatcha doin’ Little Raven?”
It was Mom.
“Just lookin’ at the picture from the cabin.” You replied.
Mom moved closer so she could see the photo and she smiled.
“Ah, that was your first trip. You remember that?” She asked.
It was a little nauseating but your parents are just as in love with each other now as they were back then, possibly even more. They looked so happy in that picture and they still do when they look at each other. Sometimes, it was a little embarrassing.
“I remember some of it.” You replied.
Mom put her hand on your shoulder and smiled.
“You all packed and ready to head up there?” She asked.
You nodded.
“Big Raven and Auntie are meeting us up there so let’s go find Dad and your brother.” Said Mom.
You nodded and smiled. “Ok, Mom.”
You were more than ready for another adventure.
Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @celestialend @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf
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If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.
#billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo fanfic#billy russo imagine#tattoo artist billy russo#billy russo au#the sweetest pain
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[CN] Shaw's Field Date (Part 1)
⚡Warning: This post contains detailed spoiler's for a Date which hasn't been released in EN yet!⚡
[This date was translated with the help of Google translate!]
✧[Section 1]✧
Shaw's message: "If the old man doesn't grant me leave, I won't be able to come back to celebrate the Qixi Festival."
MC: Hm…
Looking at the text on the phone, I let out a long sigh.
During this period, I will be filming a cultural and tourism promotional program about ethnic fashion. Shaw will be accompanying the professor for field research, and both of us was away from Loveland City.
As a result, what should have been a joyous "couples' summer vacation" has now turned into being apart from each other.
We had previously planned to set aside at least two days for Qixi Festival to find a place and have some fun together. However, upon seeing this message…
MC: "It's okay, let's forget about it... Um, will he think I'm being stubborn?"
MC: "It's okay, I can't take time off either... Wait, this sentence sounds a bit strange, let's delete it…"
Characters are jumping on the screen, and I keep withdrawing them.
Just as I was considering how to reply, the director nearby called me.
Director: MC, it's possible that we won't be able to film the scenes about Miao Village the day after tomorrow.
MC: Huh? Why?
Director: We didn't notice before, but just now we sent a drone out, and we realized that on the other side of the mountain, at Cuisong Slope, it seems like some archaeological excavation is taking place.
Director: The entire area is full of pits and uneven terrain, it's impossible to capture on camera!
MC: How about letting the drone shoot from a different angle?
Director: We just tried it, and the results were just okay. The main issue is that Cuisong Slope is right between the bamboo forest and the Miao village, and it's difficult to frame the shot properly…
The director paused, as if he had an idea.
Director: Wait a moment, maybe we should talk to them. It might be possible to ask them to stop work for two days, move the excavators and such away, and then we could manage with the visuals?
MC: That could work... I'll try talking to them and see if we can find a compromise.
After making up my mind, I asked the production team to contact the local cultural and tourism bureau. Meanwhile, I set off to meet the archaeological team in person and have a face-to-face discussion.
As soon as I got in the car, my cell phone rang.
MC: Oh, shit!
With this unexpected turn of events, I haven't had a chance to reply to Shaw's message yet!
I hastily pressed the call button, and a low-octave voice came over immediately.
Shaw [on the phone]: I saw you typing for almost two minutes, and then you disappeared. What happened?
Shaw: ...you're not mad at my message, are you?
Even though his voice sounded confident, his sentences were subtly probing. I found it amusing and couldn't help but curl my lips into a smile.
MC: I'm not upset at all. I just got caught up with work and couldn't reply to your message right away. Coincidentally, you called just as I was about to respond.
Shaw: Fine.
Shaw hummed twice, which could be considered him acknowledging my explanation. At that moment, I heard a burst of noise on his end, as if he was arguing about something.
MC: What happened to you guys?
Shaw: Oh nothing, just now a program team called and wanted us to stop work so they could shoot.
MC: …..?
Shaw: Now the program producer over there says they want to talk face-to-face with us. Tsk tsk, quite arrogant. Your company shouldn't learn from them.
Shaw: Old Man Shen wants to take me along. He said we must show that arrogant producer who's in charge when the time comes.
Shaw: But if they do stop work, it seems like I might be able to fight for some time off again…
MC: …..
MC: …Shaw.
I interrupted Shaw's muttering.
Shaw: What's wrong?
MC: I never asked before, where is your field research site?
Shaw: Even if I told you, you probably wouldn't know. It's called Cuisong Slope, right next to a Miao village, extremely remote... Why suddenly ask about this?
MC: ….
I took a deep breath, signaled the driver to increase the accelerator, and spoke with a smile.
MC: The producer of the program you're about to dismantle… should be me.
✧[Section 2]✧
Shaw: …..
MC: ……
Professor Shen: …..
In the afternoon at the archaeological site, there was complete silence. Professor Shen wiped a thin layer of sweat from his forehead and gave a slight cough.
Professor Shen: We originally thought that we encountered some unreasonable program group, but we didn't expect it to be......
MC: It's okay. It might have been a little misunderstanding from the start of our phone conversation, which led to the confusion on your part as well.
Professor Shen: Hahaha it's okay.
…There was silence again.
I turned my gaze to Shaw, desperately sending him a "help" signal. He subtly glanced at me and then spoke up.
Shaw: What's so awkward about it? Worst case, you two can pretend not to know each other, and I'll just introduce you again, right?
He gestured with four fingers close together, pointing at Professor Shen, and then pointed at me.
Shaw: This person— is Professor Shen, in charge of the Cuisong Slope archaeological excavation work, and this person is Miss MC, the producer from [MC Company's Name].
Shaw: Is this formal enough?
Professor Shen shook hands with me, and the atmosphere relaxed.
I formally expressed the needs of our program to Professor Shen, and he nodded happily.
Professor Shen: Since you also want to promote the customs and culture here, of course we can cooperate.
Professor Shen: You don't need to worry about the duration of the work stoppage. I'll communicate with the team here. Besides…
The old gentleman glanced at Shaw who was at the side, and lowered his voice.
Professor Shen: Some people have asked me for time off multiple times, eager to spend the Qixi Festival with their girlfriends. Now they're finally getting their wish fulfilled.
Shaw: Hello, you two don't think I can't hear you.
Shaw: Moreover, when have I taken time off multiple times? Am I the kind of person who can't separate work and personal matters? Among the whole archaeological team, I'm the most dedicated person…
Professor Shen: So, starting from today, the archaeological team is taking a break, and you can continue working. Go be a tour guide for your girlfriend. How about showing some "dedication to the job"?
Professor Shen waved his hand generously, and blocked all Shaw's stubborn words.
I chuckled, took Shaw's hand, and waved towards Professor Shen.
MC: Thank you, Professor Shen, for cooperating with our work and letting us borrow your star student!
Back in the car of the production team, Shaw and I sat side by side in the back seat. He had his arm propped up, looking out the window, but suddenly he turned his head…
Shaw: Why are you staring at me?
MC: ...Is my gaze really that noticeable?
Shaw: It's obvious from before even getting in the car.
My face flushed, not wanting him to catch on to the uncontainable longing. I coughed awkwardly.
MC [blushes]: It's nothing, I'm just surprised to see you dressed so casually for once, it's a bit unexpected~
The Shaw in front of me now feels completely different from the Shaw in Loveland City.
The Shaw I usually see is always the most conspicuous one in the crowd, but today he's just wearing a simple vest covered with work overall.
The fabric was stained with dirt and mud spots, clearly indicating that he had spent this time in the dirt pits.
I reached out and poked the small cluster of hair tied up with an elastic band at the back of his head. It was a little prickly and a little itchy.
MC: Your hair has gotten longer.
Shaw: I've been so busy, and I didn't want Tony, the local hair stylist, to touch my hair, so I just let it grow.
Shaw shrugged nonchalantly, and my fingers shifted along the tips of his hair. I poked the slightly reddened sunburn on his cheek.
MC: You've gotten tanned as well.
Shaw: Yeah, digging in the soil during the peak of summer, it'd be strange if I didn't get tanned.
He paused, and suddenly looked at me suspiciously.
Shaw: Are you…?
MC: What?
Shaw: …nothing.
MC: What "nothing," why stop in the middle of your sentence?!
But no matter how much I pestered him, Shaw refused to speak, and even put on his earphones.
Hmph!
After the car returned to the shooting location, there was still a lot of work that I needed to continue to participate in.
I gave Shaw an apologetic look and then turned to coordinate with my colleagues to wrap up the remaining tasks.
MC: I'm off work, do you want to go to a nearby town to have a good meal tonight?
Shaw [someone feeling jealous]: Who were those guys wearing ethnic clothing just now?
MC: Just now?
I froze for a moment before realizing that Shaw was referring to the male models who came to ask me about the filming of the Qixi Festival at the end.
MC: They are the models we hired for the Qixi Festival. Since we are filming an ethnic-themed program, they naturally need to wear ethnic clothing.
Shaw: …..Do you still want to shoot during the festival?
MC: Exactly, these are the hardworking laborers.
MC: Speaking of which, why did you suddenly ask about them?
Shaw: Nothing much, just... they were dressed so flamboyantly in ethnic attire, and their appearances seemed so mature for their age, it felt a bit strange.
MC: ?? Mature? My eye for choosing models shouldn't be that bad, and besides, their ages are similar to yours.
As soon as I said that, Shaw seemed to have been poked by something, and his expression subtly changed.
Shaw: ……
Shaw: ……
He opened his mouth, then closed it, and tugged at his dusty work overall.
Shaw: I'm hungry. How about having some local specialty sour soup fish for dinner?
MC: - That's a great idea! - Wait, why did you change the subject again?
Seeing Shaw about to walk away, I quickly grabbed his arm and took the opportunity to express my confusion.
MC: Shaw, I have a serious question for you.
MC: Did you got jealous when you saw me talking to the male models?
—
⚡ Part 2
#my tumblr was lagging so I divided the date into two parts!#mlqc spoilers#mlqc cn#mlqc shaw#mlqc ling xiao#mlqc translations#mr love queen's choice#mlqc#love and producer
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Loki S2E1 Review: A Triumphant Return? Or Just More Smoke and Mirrors?
A review by Lena, because I promised.
**SPOILERS FOR THE EPISODE BELOW THE CUT!**
**READ AFTER WATCHING THE EPISODE OR AT YOUR PERIL!**
Everyone knows my opinion on Season 1 of Loki, and how I find it an insult to character who went through over a decade of progress, only to be featured as the whipping boy in the show that bears his name, while a cipher of a Sue takes the spotlight in all of her brashness to such an extent that I kept wishing she’d be stuck in a goddamn elevator.
Lol, dreams do come true (kinda).
My rolling internal conflicts with the show made it a very difficult decision for me to even choose to give Season 2 a chance. Do I suck it up and try to see what most viewers seem to with a repeat watch of S1? Or do I stand by my (admittedly, annoyingly negative and isolating) opinions and just wait for the onslaught of delicious gif-fitry of Hiddleston’s ass the SAS Sisterhood would soon bring forth?
The only thing tipping the scales was the promise in the early release reviews that Sylvie would be scaled back, if not in screentime, at least in level of abusiveness and misery that we’re supposed to identify with. So, onward I went.
THE STORY
I was expecting S2’s overall plot to be “ The Cunt Hunt for Sylvie” from the get go, but surprised to see how little they chose to use her in the first episode.
So almost immediately after Sylvie was a giant butt and risked the entirety of creation itself for the sake of personal revenge, Loki starts Apparating zapping across time and space seemingly randomly. Kang the Wifebeater Conqueror is taking over and has a giant Mount Rushmore monument in the middle of the TVA to remind everyone that it really doesn’t matter how terrible of as person you are, Disney will continue to hire you if they’ve already hired you enough times.
We find Loki running from the TVA and Mobius, proving once again that his hair alone deserves an Emmy, before yeeting himself off a balcony and casually watching as an innocent hovertruck driver falls to her death at the 4:08 timestamp.
We’re off to a banger start?
In a scene with more ridiculous accents than a Long Islander remake of Braveheart, B-15 and Mobius try to convince Professor McGonagall’s Nazi Sister that the new timelines shouldn’t be closed, as now there are people living in those timelines, and closing the loop would essentially be genocide. B-15 is pretty great. I forget about them.
The scene with OB is the best in the episode, and it does a good job at being funny and expository without getting difficult to follow. My eyes were also thankful for the brief change in the color filters to something with more contrast and light.
**HAIRWHIPHAIRWHIPHAIRWHIPHAIRWHIP**
Ten points to Gryffindor.
I had to go back and re-watch the scenes leading up to the episode’s climax because I didn’t catch what they were doing at first. I hope they don’t make this a pattern again. We need less complication, more character development.
2.75 out of 5 Sexy Leather Holsters for being engaging and Sylvie-minimal, but hard to follow in parts, and while I smelled it coming a mile away, I’m not going to be at all impressed by the “Where in the World is Sylvie Sandiego?” thing.
THE CHARACTERS/ACTING
It’s a little off-putting to watch the characters themselves through some inconsistent writing, but the acting shines through regardless, which I expected from Frame 1.
At times I swear Mobius is autistic or ADHD-coded, at least somewhat, in the way he stops what he’s doing to express his special interests whenever they’re brought up. I’m sure he isn’t supposed to be, but as someone who has two sisters with autism, I still get some neurodivergent vibes off of Mobius, but that’s more of a personal note.
Tom and Owen still have infinitely better chemistry than Tom and Sophia. The banter between them is pretty fun, although in a few spots it gets kind of Mac-and-Dennis-y from Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and the talking over one another once in a while goes on for a second or two too long.
Rando girl in the elevator is the champion of the episode.
Ke Huy Quan is going to be a fan favorite on the level of Wandavision’s Randall Park (who we NEVER got our show about, btw). His Q-like character (Ourboros, but called OB) is always the highlight of his featured scenes, and a lot of it is just because Ke Huy Quan just exudes excitement and enthusiasm the whole time. I want to hug him. I hope this wasn’t his one episode and that he’s a recurring character. I just want to see his Pinchers of Peril save the day again.
3.75 out of 5 Sexy Leather Holsters for wonderful acting and a memorable new character, but I had to take a few points off for those stupid accents in the board room scene and not really doing much otherwise with Fascism Braveheart.
THE PRODUCTION
My theory is that Loki is the most successful of the MCU shows for two reasons: 1- Tom Hiddleston’s incredible appeal as the title character, and 2- the production values are both higher and more cinematic overall than many of the other MCU shows, most of which take place on Present Day Earth and try to rely more on special effects and savvy camerawork than environment to wow the audience (Wandavision aside). Undeniably, Loki resembles a film more than any of them, and therefore, it easier to appeal to a broader audience…
…but is it?
S1 of Loki was creative in terms of setting, but the screen itself was often so dark I thought I was watching Season 3 of A Handmaid’s Tale, so how does one enjoy the talent behind the scenes if the scenes themselves are hard to make out? The filters are still a little overused so far, but I’d call S2 an upgrade, if only because I can see more of what’s going on.
I’ll admit that the 70s aesthetic wasn’t my favorite in the beginning (esp because I’m not particularly fond of the soupy colors and odd designs of the decade), but it’s growing on me a bit more here. The haziness gives the TVA a musty, claustrophobic feel, like it would smell vaguely of sawdust and cleaning fluid if you breathed it in.
The animation at the climax was quite pretty to look at, and the soundtrack continues to be the show’s boon.
4.25 out of 5 Sexy Leather Holsters
MY THOUGHTS AND FINAL GRADE
This episode’s purpose was to examine the consequences of Sylvie’s actions at the end of S1, and for some reason, it chose to do so without her present for most of it. Not once was it suggested that she should face punishment, and in fact, she is seen in her few scenes as even more of a victim than S1, quickly becoming Loki’s purpose and motivation yet again without doing anything but stumbling into an Oklahoma McDonalds and asking for one of everything like a stoner on payday.
So much of this episode was Tom Hiddleston running around full tilt, and to that I say…brilliant. I could watch those cheeks clap for days. Also, I’ll give the creative team credit, they finally seemed to understand that Tom’s hair is an actor unto itself and deserves some spotlight (I wish it was longer though…Ragnarok Hair Supremacy!). Nine out of ten mangos for thirst-quenching.
I'll give it props, I was engaged until the somewhat-muddled climactic activities (I needed a few rewinds to understand what Mobius was doing in the Sontaran costume). It certainly reads like Disney banked everything on this season doing well, with S2E1 still showing off the higher budget and more cinematic feel that the other MCU shows generally lack. I have no doubt it will pull in enough views for them to re-consider a S3. I'm still clenching a bit on what comes next, though.
I I'll go on to episode 2, but I reserve the right to stop at any time.
My theory: The Mysterious Pruner was OB.
3 out of 5 Sexy Leather Holsters overall for the episode.
SAS TAGGIES: @holdmytesseract @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @gruftiela
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Rambling incoming.
People often remember the book 10 vase scene & the epilogue as poorly written (and they are), but I'd argue that what happens after the vase scene is just as badly written, if not worse.
Being told that Darkstalker not only brainwashed one of her friends, but also attempted to kill off his entire tribe with a plague, should have been the final straw for Moon. She had already experienced a SEVERE breach in trust with Darkstalker before he even emerged from the mountain, so much so that it put her into tears (end of book 8). She should have immediately realized that trying to redeem Darkstalker would necessarily put the lives of her friends, Winter's tribe, and the world at risk, as long as he still had his powers. She should have immediately started focusing on how to neutralize DS as soon as possible. Maybe neutralize him in a way where she can safely try to redeem him without gambling the world on it, but not if it requires the sacrifice of her friend's safety. She should have redirected her empathy towards the friends she KNOWS she can trust. This does not happen. Instead, she throws herself a pity-party, like she is the real victim in all of this. She stubbornly insists that he can still be redeemed much to the dismay of Winter and the questioning of Qibli, and then puts the entire world at risk by betting on him willingly eating the strawberry to find redemption. It is ONLY through the serendipitous hubris of Darkstalker that he is defeated. Yet the books do not hold Moon to task on ANY of this completely blind and genuinely selfish crusade of hers. No, it's everyone else's fault for not believing in her.
A few short pages after the vase scene, Moon outright channels suburban mom energy out of nowhere, infantilizes Winter as if he is a toddler throwing a temper tantrum over spilt milk, and basically tells him to go to his room. All because he was upset that, after being told that DS nearly wiped out the IceWings and brainwashed one of her closest friends, she wanted to go talk to the culprit. She refuses to explain why and doesn't even try to understand why Winter is so upset. Yet she calmly explains her reasons to Qibli on the very next page. This scene alone made me almost quit WoF entirely because it straight-up invalidates Winter's trauma while, somehow, framing him as the unreasonable one.
After their conversation with Darkstalker, they realize they have to tell Winter that Queen Glacier, his aunt whom he genuinely cared about and valued so much that he made it a cornerstone of his identity early in the arc, has been killed by Darkstalker's plague. So, since they are such good friends they would feel genuine empathy and sorrow for him, right? Dreading the task of telling him because it will be a genuinely difficult thing to do, to tell a close friend that a loved one of theirs died? Lmao nope. Instead, all Qibli and Moon are worried about is that he might yell at them. Moon's only response to Qibli's worry is "I've heard worse in his head." Not "he's allowed to mourn," or "he's been through a lot recently, cut him some slack." Imagine if your friends, behind your back, learned of your loved ones passing and went "Oh god, alright let's draw straws on who has to tell this guy."
The 2nd half of book 10 is, to this day, probably some of the worst, most mean-spirited writing I've ever seen in... anything really. It systematically destroyed the found family to resolve a love triangle that nobody wanted, because letting Moon and Qilbi just choose each other was apparently *not* an option.
The Vase scene and how the character's react and treat Winter in the 2nd half of Book 10 is one of the reasons why it's my least favorite WoF book. It really is unnecessarily mean spirited. Though I do wanna touch a bit on what you say here. Specifically about Moon since I think her actions her could of actually been handled in an interesting and impactful way.
This isn't to defend the Vase scene or anything...it's really bad and honestly I think it's worse with this context. I just wanna mention this since I think Moon is a really under-utilized character.
Moon's in a horrifically toxic friendship with Darkstalker, he repeatedly makes Moon feel responsible for his actions, he isolates her from her friends, he constantly pleads with her to stay with him because it'll make him better or make him stop acting horrible. It's notable that Moon is the only one Darkstalker didn't enchant because her Behavior is like someone who was enchanted. Darkstalker doesn't need to enchant Moon, he's already got his grubby in her 13 or so year old mind.
Moonwatcher also has a surprisingly black-and-white worldview. Moonwatcher sorts thoughts into bad and good and judges people by them. Darkstalker exploited this by showing Moon all the good things he wants and all the good things he thinks.
If we get rid of all the magic from Darkstalker for a second what we have is a horror story where a much older teenager is manipulating a much younger one to Stay With Them so that They don't Kill Anyone. This is Deeply Horrifying and I'm not even going to touch on how he compares her to Clearsight because it becomes even creepier and I don't want to talk about stuff like that at the moment.
This is why I hate the vase scene even more! Because if we divorce it from the rest of book 10 for a bit it's actually a deeply fucking terrifying scene where Moonwatcher's sense of self is so reliant on Fixing Darkstalker that the idea of him doing something so horrible is something she can't accept because if she Does that means she's at fault.
Plus part of the worry in the vase scene is coming from how Moonwatcher trusts Darkstalker still, and how Darkstalker can read her mind. Winter is putting Moon at risk by telling her this. Could you imagine if Darkstalker Did decide to do something to Moon because of what Winter did? Moon is being put in danger by that information.
Of course we live in a world where book 10 sucks and Moonwatcher is barely a character outside of the love triangle so we don't get that. Moonwatcher's personality changes depending on what the love triangle needs to continue. The clearest example of this is Moon Wanting to Abandon waiting for Winter in Escaping Peril when SHE'S the one who wanted to wait for him in the first place!
I think one of my major problems with Book 10 is that, due to the romance plot, a lot of characters feel like there being given a script by Tui herself for the plot to go like this. So, as you mentioned, instead of acting like concerned friends who just learned that there friend's aunt was practically murdered, Qibli and Moon act really dismissive and even cruel. Complaining about being yelled at rather than the fact that Winter's Aunt is Dead. However this scene is supposed to push the romance further, to show how Winter is less attractive to Moon compared to Qibli.
Now, again, really fucked up to use his aunt's death as the backdrop here, but it is the purpose of the scene. This book is so meanspirited and horrible I Hate it god I hate Book 10-
#asks#book 10 I hope you get erased from the universe forever#hmm...feel like I need a cw for this but dont know what#ask to tag
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Kung Fu Panda 4 (2024) Review
potential spoilers ahead...
For starters, I don't think this was a movie that needed to be made. It is not much of a story, if it qualifies at all. the whole thing feels more like an (overly)extended episode of one of the series rather then it's own movie. And was either poorly paced and slow or it was just straight up boring.
Now for an actual explanation. Starting with a community of Goats was a great idea, but I will admit the only reason I think that is because I love goats and am easily bought. Showing Tai Lung attacking the goats with the shots framed to make it difficult to see that he's actually covered in scales instead of fur is an awesome way to introduce the audience to the new villain, even if the execution wasn't great. The lighting and lack of emphasis make it difficult to notice and make out those details. And it isn't explained until later in the movie, after you know who the Chameleon is, when Po finds Tai Lung's footprints that slowly shrink into Not Tai Lung Footprints(TM). Throughout the movie the Chameleon never feels villainous, even as she is doing the Big Bad Thing and in the final fight. It makes it difficult to see the stakes as real and as ultimate as its supposed to. I do really like the consistency of the scales every time she shapeshifts, it looks cool and is a fun way to showcase shapeshifting visually.
Po has no real development in this story. He's supposed to be learning how to teach and not approach every conflict with violence. In the entire movie we see him teach the fox, his sidekick prisoner trainee person, ONE thing, and attempt diplomacy(if you can call a single line that is not entirely non-aggressive that) twice, failing both times. At the end of the movie its treated as though he has become the spiritual leader he begrudgingly set out to become, but in reality nothing changed and there was no lesson for Po, or anyone really including the audience, to learn from the adventure that was had. Jack Black (the god that he is) was great, but this doesn't feel like a movie about Thee "Kung fu Panda". The other movies all have Po going on adventures that teach about believing in yourself, creating a family, self confidence, and more. This movie's lack of clear message and hope feels like a major let down from such a positive children's series.
As for the fox, I didn't like or care about her at all. She was annoying, and I know that's Awkwafina's shtick or whatever, but you can't expect anyone, even young kids, to like or care about the annoying criminal that shows no redeeming qualities until the last ~40 minutes with that quality being questionably redeeming. She meets Po when he catches her stealing and she does nothing but cause problems and be annoying from then to the point where (Surprise!) she double crosses him. She only fights on his side in the end because of the classic reasoning, she didn't know anyone would get hurt. Things are classic for a reason, but here it all feels extremely superficial and cheap.
Shout out to literally every scene with Li and Ping, Po's goose and panda dads respectively. They were, and are, hands down the best scenes in the entire movie. They're the only times I actually had fun watching the movie and it would've been greatly improved if the movie was just a buddy adventure between them and not everything else.
They definitely suffered for the lack of The Furious Five. Even the in universe explanations for where they were were flimsy and bad. Its clear DreamWorks just wanted a quick, cheap, easy money maker and weren't willing to shell out the money for the voice actors.
#kung fu panda#kung fu movies#kfp 4#movie review#movies#kung fu panda 4#the furious five#kung fu panda ping#the chameleon#tai lung#dreamworks animation
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ＩＭＡＧＩＮＥ: Designing a Jersey for the Devils and Catching the Attention of Captain Nico Hischier
Celly’s 300 Follower Appreciation
-since his draft, Newark was his home
-a home that was often lost among some of the greatest cities in america
-new york was a mere 35-minute drive over the bay the area was full of opportunity
-broadway shows, concerts, and some of the best restaurants in the country
-Nico never failed to have anything to do during his downtime
-but in cities so crowded it was difficult to make connections beyond his teammates and their wives or girlfriends
-and it was the team that brought you to his attention
-you were an up-and-coming designer in the fashion world
-and the team had reached out to the commission you to design their jersey for one of the themed nights that they hosted every year
-this was something Nico wasn’t too involved in the process of
-but he would see you around the building in passing
-and was constantly left wondering who you were
-it wasn’t until the jerseys were approved, made and ready to be photographed that he met you officially
-naturally, as the captain of the team Nico was asked to model the jersey for their announcement
-it would be his face plastered on social media in your design
-and he took his photos
-posed as he was directed
-but his eyes were constantly drawn to you as you watched him from behind the camera
-“do we have another jersey available?” Nico questions quickly messing up one of the shots
-but he had an idea and he wasn’t going to remain silent about it
-the media team was able to provide a second jersey - the one they were using for aesthetic shots
-one that did not bare any name but in its place the cause it was made to support
-nico took it in his hands and approached you almost a little nervously
-and he requested that they get pictures of you in the jersey you designed
-he had almost expected you to reject the offer
-but you showed no hesitation
-you carefully put the jersey on
-making sure not to cause it any damage or transfer any makeup onto it
-and when you were happy with how the jersey rested on your frame you moved into the scene
-he shouldn't have been surprised with how much of a natural you were in front of the camera
-you were in the fashion world after all
-and you held his attention the entire time
-it had even left him smiling
-your personality and charisma unlike anything he had experienced in a very long time
-and it was him that had become intimidated and shy in your presence
-it only worsened when the photographer decided it was time to get a few shots of the two of you together
-he was hesitant to go back into the frame
-but you welcomed him with a smile
-the shots started out a little more candid than the others
-but as Nico became more comfortable with you the better the photographs became
-best of all he ended up having a lot of fun
-Nico didn’t see you again until game night when you were welcomed back by the organization to celebrate
-you were part of the pregame ceremony and the media team made sure to get a few pictures of you with Nico, and some of the fan favourites before you were dismissed to enjoy the game with those you asked to join you
-but before you could slip away down the tunnel Nico was calling out to you
-they were cleaning up the carpets so they didn’t need him on the ice for the first face-off just yet but he was short on time
-so he had to be quick
-his words were blurted out seemingly all at once as he asked you to grab dinner after the game
-he wasn’t sure how to gage your reaction at first as your features seemed to go blank
-but then your confident smile grew and while he couldn’t hear you over the roar of the crowd he saw you nod and point to instagram on your phone
-he would find you there after the game
-when the game was finished and he was cleaned up nico was quick to scan through your instagram and slid into your DM’s
-soon he found you in the parking lot after the game
-he didn’t know exactly where to take you as he asked you out of impulse as he was worried he would never see you again
-but you knew the perfect place for a late-night bite
-it would become the first date of many
-dates that included introducing him to the world of fashion, galleries, eclectic restaurants and even your own studio
-and not a single moment intimidated you
-that was until he began to introduce you to his teammates as his girlfriend and much like you had introduced him to your world of fashion, you were drawn into the life of being a WAG
#nico hischier#nhl imagine#hockey imagines#hockey rpf#nhl rpf#;; { it took all my willpower to keep this a blurb }#;; { because I could easily turn this into a fic }#;; { i have a fc in mind for an oc already }#;; { and they would be so damn cute }#;;300
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hi hi i hope you are still doing essay commentary because WOAG this latest oboro visual poem meta thing. messed me UP. predictably your mention of third person perspective is my favourite part of the whole post. im wondering why you chose those specific oboro and gintoki Eye Moments for example. but anything else or anything more on the rainbow body segment that you want to talk about would be wonderful! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
(— groupofcrows main)
yesss thank you for the question! i love talking about this stuff.
So the rainbow body is a phenomenon and concept from Dzogchen, a tradition within Tibetan Buddhism. Essentially, when a master attains full knowledge, their body changes. I'm not going to go into the details here because it's not too relevant, but upon death the master's body will dissolve into light instead of leaving a corpse behind, and then their spirit can go wherever in the world to aid others. (Very much like how I think of Shouyou's final death in the final arc where he The World arcana's himself into sublimation.)
I was originally going to go in a different direction with the collage, but it didn't work with the flow as well, and it was difficult to get suitable quotes. You haven't seen the end of the rainbow body quotes though, I have a bunch more I'm saving for another collage. lol.
Anyway, what's meant by "third person perspective" in the actual definition of the rainbow body is just that this is what's observable to the people around the master. Buddhism is largely concerned with the internal, which is probably why it's phrased this way. I took it and ran though! The first screenshot in that section is of Gintoki's iconic PTSD moment when he sees Utsuro's face for the first time, perfectly coincidentally in the arc where Utsuro is depicted with a LGBT pride aura as he moves for no reason (except, I presume, hilarity). What more significant moment of "knowledge" attainment is there for him? For Oboro, though, that moment of horrified realization is when he "realizes" he's been replaced, that Shouyou getting to live means that he will actually, you know, live his life and move on.
I juxtaposed these moments because, in a way, Gintoki and Oboro are already "third person perspectives" of each other. I've already talked about how Oboro is a retroactively created echo of Gintoki. What's fun in the wording of the quote is that it's the third-person perspective of someone else attaining knowledge, right? Oboro and Gintoki are "at the scene" of their respective deepest horror, with Oboro's image being second because it implicitly frames him as potentially looking at Gintoki. Because that's indeed what happened. Oboro is also always looking at Gintoki, but not at all in the same way as Takasugi.
In the execution pic, he's simply watching the execution--Gintoki is just the guillotine, and despite how terrible this moment is for everyone involved, Oboro isn't haunted by this. Some part of him knows that the worst is yet to come--that Gintoki will survive because of this choice, so one day he may come to the truly horrible realization, Utsuro. And so the images also imply that Oboro is looking at Gintoki's realization with horror. Oboro in the present had already come to this realization long ago, and so he's become empty of all (or almost all...) desires, attachments, resentments and lets himself be dressed by the narrative in priestly attire without protest.
What about Gintoki? He's not watching anything in this moment except his own memories flying past, but we, the viewer, are watching him have this realization. Just as we watch Oboro have his realization, and understand the catalyst for the entire underlying tragedy of Gintama. Which was Gintoki, or rather Oboro seeing Gintoki. In this situation we are also literally the third person. Gintoki finding out about Utsuro is just the sound of a pebble hitting water a very, very long time after Oboro first dropped it into a well over 10 years ago.
But also, Gintoki meeting Utsuro is quite literally why Utsuro has that LGBT pride aura going on. Because Utsuro needs a very dramatic entrance scene, because this is a very tense moment the narrative can't not gas up. So that we can enjoy it as viewers.
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So I sent you an ask before your tumblr got deleted and I’m assuming the ask got deleted too. Basically, when I was watching Nimona I thought Ballistar got his prosthetic too quickly after his amputation. But I don’t actually know how long it takes for an amputation to heal, or to build up the strength needed to use a prosthetic. Also I would have liked to see him learn to use his prosthetic instead of using it perfectly from the beginning. But I’m not an amputee. Are my impressions of this accurate?
Yeah, I'm really sorry about that (also that it took me a little while to answer this time too!), I'm pretty sure my answer was actually the next post in my queue 😅.
So I haven't seen Nimona (I really want to, but I don't currently have Netflix lol) so I can only answer generally, but the healing time is different depending on what you mean by healed. If you mean just the wound healing, that takes a few weeks, usually 2-4 weeks. If you mean able to wear a prosthetic, for leg amps, that's usually 6-8 weeks, but I think it might be shorter for arm amputees since they aren't weight bearing through their stumps. Im not 100% sure, though. To fully heal (the swelling in the stump goes down, general pain settles, etc) can take a year or more, but most people will be back to their normal lives long before that, though. As for building up strength to use the prosthetic, that's really variable. Some people take to their prosthetics REALLY quickly, others take a while. The type of amputation is a big factor, but lots of other little things go into it too. Ballistar is an above-elbow amputee right? As I understand it, those kinds of prosthetics are quite difficult to use, both due to the strength needed and due to them not being super intuitive.
In saying all this though, unless its a focal point of the story or its a very grounded/realistic setting, I'm personally pretty lenient with most sci-fi/fantasy in this regards. We definatly need more media - even fantasy and sci-fi that shows that side of being an amputee or at least puts in effort to acknowledge it, but I think stories that lean a bit more into the fantasy side of things have their place too, especially in stories like Nimona where the focus seems to be elsewhere. This isn't to say you shouldn't try to include the realistic rep where you can, but you have to find a balance between realism and the tone your story has. Some stories really would benefit from the more grounded/realistic depictions that show everything, others might only need a brief mention. It depends on the story, and it's really hard to say where Nimona lies on that spectrum without having actually seen it, but from the little I have seen, I feel like it falls on the "brief mention" side of things since it already has so much going on.
I'm going to use How to Train Your Dragon as an example of what I'm trying to say, just becuase I know the first movie got a lot of critisism from amputees for having hiccup literally get up and start walking the moment he woke up after loosing his leg, but I think it lands in a similar area of the spectrum I'm talking about.
HTTYD is one of those movies where having the more realistic approach wouldn't have really fit with the tone or pacing, but it would have benifited from a little more than what we got. Not much though, since we kind of already got it with toothless anyway. In my opinion, all it needed was a slight tweak to that ending scene and it would have been perfect (in my opinion). Personally, I would have made Hiccup (without a prosthetic) sit on toothless's back when they went out the door for the first time. The scene plays out almost exactly the same, and you get the symbolic framing the directors wanted, while acknowledging that walking so soon after a burn amputation is not going to happen. Gobber gives Hiccup the tail, saddle and his new leg in the bundle, which allows them to keep the "That bit's my handiwork, with a little hiccup flair thrown in. Think it'll do?" line.
Hiccup can instead hold the leg in his hand and say "I might make a few adjustments" - everyone laughs and then it cuts to the end scene with them all flying with the implication some time has passed the same as in the real film.
It's a small tweak, but I do think that's all it really needed.
So yeah, While its great to have more realistic representation in your stories, you got to work within the tone your story has. There's no "one size fits all" way to approach it.
Again though, I could be wrong about where Nimona would fall here, I know it does tackle heavy subjects in regards to trans representation and discrimination, so maybe it could have made it work. I'll probably talk more about it once I actually see the movie though!
#id in alt text#disability#disabled#writing#writing disability#writeblr#disability representation#nimona#nimona movie#nimona 2023#how to train your dragon#httyd#hiccup#hiccup haddock#amputee representation#amputee#on writing#writer#creative writing
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