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timaeusterrored · 11 months

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(Eurodyne Pride collection 2/?)

Samurai was still a pretty lowkey band, but was raising in fame from word of mouth and the countless bars they’ve played at. And this year they were invited to play at a Pride Parade in the middle of town.

The band wasn’t exactly quiet, most of the rumors were about them all sleeping together. They weren’t wrong, and Kerry definitely wasn’t quiet about his sexuality. He wore it loud and proud with patches and pins, bandanas, and now a bisexual flag painted on his face by Denny, who also had a bi flag on her face.

The band was ready to go for the most part, Kerry sporting his bi flag, Denny with her pan flag, Henry with a bi flag, and Nancy and Johnny no where to be seen.

Kerry banged his fist on the bathroom door again, rubbing his forehead. “We’re gonna be late, assholes let’s go!” He called. He knew Johnny did not care that much about his appearance, unless they were fucking and had to get ready.

Nancy came out of the bathroom and shoved Kerry against the back of the couch, the door shutting behind her.

“When he comes out, not a word. You don’t know how much time it took to get him to this level, k?” She asked, making everyone agree.

That’s when Johnny came out of the bathroom with a bisexual flag on his cheek, and his hands in his back pockets. Kerry felt a smile begin to form when Nancy nudged him.

“Holy fuck were gonna be late-“ Nancy finally checked her watch and started shoving everyone out of the apartment, Johnny barely having time to grab his keys before the door slammed behind them.

The show was great, probably one of their best. The energy was fantastic, the crowd feeling it, the band feeling themselves. Kerry and Henry were in sync and energetic with Johnny, Kerry unable to stay away from him. But that’s how it normally was.

By the end of the show, Kerry was ready to party. He was vibrating with excitement and ready to go. When Johnny pulled him in by his guitar strap and kissed him on stage. The crowd went fucking wild, screaming and cheering. The band joined in as the kiss ran on for a bit longer than necessary.

Johnny grinned when he pulled back and told the crowd goodnight, they’d join the party later. Kerry was still dazed from the kiss as they walked off stage, letting the rest of the entertainers for that night come up. They went back to their tiny shared trailer to get ready.

“Fuck that was amazing!” Denny exclaimed as she freshened up, making sure her make up was good and changed into something better to party and walk around in.

Johnny was quiet, already drinking a beer and lighting a cigarette. The rest of the band took the hint and left the two alone.

It was rumored that Johnny and Kerry were sleeping together, they weren’t wrong but also weren’t ready to explain whatever weird situation they had going on. But never in a million years did Kerry think he’d be kissed on stage by Johnny.

“You wanna-“

“No.”

“J-“

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Johnny went to leave but Kerry stopped him, holding his wrist. Johnny glared at him, cigarette hanging between his lips and beer in his other hand.

“C’mon man… it’s me! You know I don’t judge-“

“Stop it. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You have a bi flag on your face, and kissed me on stage. There’s a few things to talk about.”

“There’s not. Nance didn’t make a big deal out of it, why are you? I was copying you.”

Kerry knew that wasn’t true, but also knew Johnny wasn’t comfortable in his sexuality like he was. He knew Johnny battled with his sexuality and masculinity on a daily basis, especially with his band being so shameless about who the slept with. Not that Johnny had any shame when it came to women.

“Fuckin- Fine! You wanna talk, you won’t let this go until we do. Let’s talk.”

Johnny shoved passed him so he wasn’t cornered into the door. Kerry was worried he had crossed the line so far he couldn’t see the line anymore.

But he persisted, as he always does and took a deep breath.

“I just… J you know there’s nothing to be ashamed of right? Especially with us. We won’t judge you for liking dudes. We’ve shared a bed since we were sixteen for Christs sake! Look, I get it-“

“No you don’t get it!”

“Shut up and let me talk.” Kerry’s voice was low, but Johnny lit another cigarette and sat back in his chair.

“I do get it. My dad treated me like fucking trash after he found out I liked men. Called me names, isolated me- Why do you think I ran away to live with Thea?” Johnny was looking down, unable to look at Kerry, who was so unapologetic about what he had been through. But he was here now, and he was so fucking proud of himself for making it here.

Kerry squatted next to him. “Hey? You don’t even need a label okay? As long as you don’t hate yourself for liking dudes. There’s nothing wrong with it. And we sure as hell won’t judge, okay?” Kerry asked, squeezing his knee before standing.

“Now, I’m gonna go find the gayest drink I can find. When you’re ready, you can come find me okay?” Kerry knew he needed space. He wasn’t going to deprive him of that.

Kerry was at the bar with Nancy when he felt a warm chest bump against his back and heard Johnny order a drink. He turned saw the bi flag was still on his face, and he made eye contact with Kerry. Kerry smiled.

“You gonna dance with me?” Kerry asked, making Nancy laugh.

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice. But no.” Johnny snorted and nodded his head.

“Fine. But Nancy has to come with. I’m not embarrassing myself alone.” Kerry twisted his nipple and huffed.

The rest of the night was perfect, the band danced until they dropped, having to call Rogue to come get them because they were too wasted to stand up. Kerry remembers how Johnny stayed close that night, danced with him, laughed with the others. That was before he truly lost Johnny.

But this isn’t about that. Kerry has always fought for the things he believed in, he was proud of his sexuality, he always had been. He had been made to love as his mother said when she picked him up after a particularly bad night with his father.

Johnny had never cared how people saw him, but he could accept the fact that he was bisexual so easy. But he knew one thing, when he was on that stage with Kerry that day, kissing him in front of everyone, the pictures made headlines and blogs, and everyone saw the pride flag on Johnny’s face.

Kissing Kerry felt like the only right thing to do to finish off the show.

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noramoya · 2 years

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MICHAEL JACKSON: THE DANCER OF THE DREAM •••

“Michael Jackson was a gifted, unique and outstanding dancer.His contribution to the Art of Dance is analyzed in this fascinating article by the professional Flamenco dancer and choreographer, Amor (Lubov Fadeeva)”…

“Let’s go back to the roots of Michael’s dance once again. When people speak of his dancing, they often recall the legendary Fred Astaire and his dancing pieces. Here we can see a lot of what Michael “inherited”– that whole gangster style with the shoes and the hat, the costumes, the color and lighting effects, and the direct use of tap dance elements. But the amazing thing is that he borrowed only external stylistic means (like motives from the pop classics) and mixed them with his spontaneous African passion – and not as much in the manner of tap dance performed by black dancers, but in the improvised and passionate nature of folk dances of Africa and the Caribbean basin. This is where the merriment, stage glitter, and elegance suddenly transform into a spontaneous shaman dance to the sound of drums. Notice how Michael looks extremely at ease and organic in the crowd of Brazilian drummers in his They Don’t Care About Us short film. They have a common nature.

In truth, Michael looks like a stage dandy in patent leather shoes only from afar. It’s just a theatrical show he puts on to create a certain effect. He has not gangster spats on, but black loafers and white socks; the black jacket hides a tee and a shirt he would rip from top to bottom at any moment; and the elegant fedora covers tousled hair that has nothing in common with the brilliantine of well-groomed dancers of the past. He needs the look just to appear in the spotlight. The spotlight is a theatrical tool as old as the world, we all use it – and Michael was not the first to create it. He borrowed it from the classics. The light and shadow of high-contrast lighting, accenting a white glove or white tape on his fingertips – and you have the first intriguing chord of mystery. A cavalier dressed in black, walking out of darkness, an archetype so seductive for the ladies since the times of cloak-and-dagger comedies. A woman cannot see his face, but already dreams of him as her romantic secret lover visiting her in the dead of the night and climbing through her window. Hence the hat pushed down to shade his eyes.

The most eloquent parts of the body when dancing are the hands and feet. Especially the hands. The hands are the third tool after words and facial expression to help us express our thoughts and feelings. They make gestures; they talk; they can even sing. I often tell my students that, to be truly expressive when dancing, the hands have to continue the impulse coming out of you, your gaze and your feelings. The palm and fingertips are the source of outpouring energy. They have to be visible. The hands are the most delicate instrument in movement.

Michael enhanced the visual effect with the help of white tape and a glove. They acted like fireballs of energy flashing against the darkness of the mysterious image. The same was true of the white socks – they accentuated his feet. And all this elegant magic of a cavalier in black suddenly opened up in a wild African ecstasy concealed under the covers of the theatrical props. Tap dance movements turned into sensual arching of the body, the famous daring crotch grabbing and crazy shirt ripping.

This works better than a striptease. It’s seduction at the level of subconscious associations and emotions, the level of beauty and not plain physiology. This is how Michael gripped the attention of even the most demanding women and young ladies who don’t fall for demonstrations of rude masculinity. Did Michael realize what he was doing? I think, intuitively he did, and he also realized that he was drawing a lot of attention – but he never thought too much about it. And this allowed him to dance naturally, chastely and ingenuously, like a wild man. His dancing body became seductive and desirable, while his soul remained filled with pure energy. It is sensuality of a higher level, where the body is subject to the spirit.” — Amor (Lubov Fadeeva).

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janghoefett · 3 years

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Hotline Bling (Jango Fett x F!Reader)

Jango invites his favorite girl over to Kamino for a booty call.

Rating: Explicit (18+) Pairing: F/M Word count: 1.7k

Inspired by the energy of the blue tunic scene that gets me flustered. Reader has some sort of implied sexual relationship with Obi-Wan Kenobi that Jango is aware of, so he invites her over to remind her that things are much better with him. I’m literally so sorry I did this to Obi.

Warnings: 98% porn, 2% plot, unprotected sex (p in v), dirty talk, creampie, oral (f receiving), spitting in mouth, praise kink.

“Need you to come. Waiting on Kamino. J.”

There was no innocence about the bounty hunter’s message. You knew exactly what it meant.

The journey to Kamino was spent with a dull ache between your legs. How many times had you found yourself dreaming not about the Jedi Master who fucked you sweetly, but about the bounty hunter with a hundred scars who played your body like an instrument?

Jango knew about you and Kenobi. There was nothing exclusive about your relationships with either men, but you had found yourself in bed with the Jedi to feel the heat of another body as you resided on Coruscant. Obi-Wan was sweet and gentle… but Jango was dark and red-blooded.

Jango has no shame leading you inside his apartment despite watchful eyes. If a Kaminoan happened to be in the hall outside his door, or if someone recognized that you only came to stay in Jango’s quarters, it made no difference to the bounty hunter. Instead it only brings on a power dynamic that makes you feel like his prize to be flaunted.

His kisses burn like fire against your lips as he keeps you pressed against the wall just on the other side of his door. His musk is familiar; it’s a masculine scent that makes you swoon and entices your fingers to dance against his stubble. With Jango, you fall back into a fast paced rhythm despite weeks spent apart. Your bodies grind against each other without care, only greed and primal desire.

Jango turns you to face the wall suddenly, wrapping an arm around your stomach and pressing himself into your backside. Your breath hitches.

“I need to fuck you,” he breathes lowly in your ear, sending a chill up your spine.

You whimper at his words, gripping the wall for support, as your knees grow weak with anticipation. Jango slides your pants down and off your feet, and kneels to be level with your hips. His hands grip your ass, kneading the flesh before spreading your legs further apart.

You bend over further and arch your back on instinct, allowing Jango access to bring his mouth to your wet cunt. Your legs buck but his two large hands continue to support you as his strong mouth works at your center, sending shockwaves up your body.

You allow it to continue until the sensation proves to be too much.

“Shit, Jango! Take me to the bed! I- I can’t stand.”

“Yeah?” he says, smacking your exposed bottom. “You gonna let me fuck you there? Remind you who you belong to?”

“Yes!” you croak, bucking your hips.

The desperation in your voice stokes Jango’s fervor. He turns your body to face him and lifts you in an impressive feat of strength, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you to the bed.

You strip your jacket and top off your body, which you only now realize were slightly damp from your entrance to Kamino. The air bites at your skin.

Jango’s breathing deepens at the sight of you unwrapping yourself, and his eyes trace over the contours and curves of your body like a wild man. He discards his shirt easily, revealing the thick layers of a warrior’s muscles, and his hands work to unfasten his pants.

Jango’s head gestures for you to move back further onto the bed. “Bend over,” he orders simply, taking his cock out.

You shudder at the sight. Who were you to refuse him?

You do as he says, crawling up on the bed with your ass in the air and your forearms keeping you balanced.

Jango comes up behind you. Holding your hips down, he spits on your cunt, using large fingers to prime you. You bite your lip, taking deep breaths to relax, just waiting for that delicious moment…

He enters you quickly, drawing strangled groans from both of your lips. The stretch makes your legs quiver; you were just so full. Jango’s length was standard, but his girth? Feeling Jango push into you quite literally takes your breath away.

You lay there with your face pressed against the sheets and your mouth agape.

“Such a good girl,” he praises you, running a hand up your back and down your thigh. “All tight for me.”

Jango begins to move and picks up the pace quickly. You are practically soaking his length as he fucks into you, gripping the sheets in an attempt to hang onto reality. Your eyes close. Your breath is shallow and you can faintly can hear Jango’s rough breathing as he thrusts into you with strong juts. Your arm reaches back for him mindlessly as he hits something that pushes you closer towards the edge.

“Does your Jedi fuck you like this, princess?” he growls through gritted teeth.

“No…” you breathe, struggling to speak. Jango was marking you as his territory and it was going straight to your core. “He’s… he’s gentle…”

You can’t finish your sentence.

“Cockdumb already?”

Yes. You were.

He slows for a moment to bring your torso upright and continues his brutal pace. His hands come around your body, clutching at your breast and toying with your clit.

Jango starts to mumble phrases in Mando’a, and whether they were curses or praises you have no idea. “Atiniir… atiniir...” he chants. “Take it,” he’s telling you. The low vibrations of his voice push you closer to the edge as you take his thrusts.

You clench around him hard when he hits something new, coming around his length, as he supports your body. He slows to a stop after a moment, allowing your muscles to relax again.

“Come on,” Jango huffs, smacking your ass again. “Lay down.”

Obediently you move up onto the bed, laying back on a pillow and looking up at the hunter with wide eyes.

Jango takes you again with ease as he comes over you. You moan softly at the way his heat warms your chilled skin, and your legs and arms wrap around him.

“You want me to fuck you gently, mesh’la?” Jango taunts, remaining still.

“No,” you whine, grinding your hips into the bed. “Hard… please…” Your hand comes up to Jango’s cheek but he grabs it in turn, pinning your wrist down by your head.

Jango starts up a hard pace again, linking an arm under your knee. “Look how you take my cock,” he growls. “You know how good you feel on me, girl?”

Jango’s praises make you clench around him; you mewl slightly, inching closer to another orgasm.

Jango is greedy as he devours you, his strong arm snaking under your body to hold you close to him. He fills your senses while penetrating your aching cunt with strong juts, exploring your mouth, keeping his body flush against yours. Your toes curl and your legs start to shake. “Come on!” he growls.

“Fuck!” you cry. “Jango!” Your hands rake at him as you come again, pulsing around him for several seconds, but he keeps fucking you through it. Nothing exists for you in this moment except for a wave of hot pleasure that leaves you breathless.

Jango’s hand comes to grip your face, inching your jaw open with his thumb. His mouth comes down to yours - spitting inside of it - before closing your jaw back up. You whine pathetically in appreciation as you swallow. “Such a precious girl,” he coos, sealing the lewd act with a kiss.

You were stirring back to life and ready to come again. Jango never came more than once, he knew how to push through it, how to allow your cunt to milk him without spilling a drop. When Jango did finally release himself, however, it was going to be final and it was going to leave you full.

“I want one more from you,” he says with that low, raspy voice, as his thrusts become more erratic. “Come on, show me what a good girl you are, mesh’la. Show me how much you love getting fucked.”

You take his words as a challenge and begin to come again, picking up on the feeling of your last. Your hips start to grind again and your cunt pulses, eliciting a strangled groan from the bounty hunter.

“Come inside of me,” you whine desperately. “Please.”

Hearing you beg makes Jango come with a deep groan, stilling deep inside of you and leaving bruises on your skin. Your legs still tremble as you lie there in recovery, smiling at the fuzzy feeling of his seed filling you.

Kamino’s air nips at your skin when Jango moves away and you shudder slightly, still heaving with shaky breath.

“C’mere, mesh’la.” Jango grumbles, bringing you into the space under his arm. You roll over to face him, wrapping your arm around him and burying your face in his chest gladly. “Can’t have you going cold on me,” he says with an audible smile.

Rain beats down against the large windows, filling the silence.

“Do you want me to fuck you gently?” he had asked after you had called Obi-Wan gentle just a moment earlier.

You sit on his words for a moment. Was Jango trying to provide what he thought you craved? Would he have fucked gently if you asked, or was it another game to hear you beg?

“Do you have to get back to your Jedi?” Jango asks through the darkness, breaking the silence.

Your breath catches in your throat. Jango had said he didn’t mind you seeing other people, but there’s something different, something about the way his tone of voice feels detached. Something that shouldn’t be opened.

“He’s not my Jedi,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “He’s… a friend.”

You cringe at your choice of words as soon as they leave your lips.

“I don’t fuck my friends,” Jango laughs under his breath.

“Then what am I to you?” you counter. You prop yourself up on an elbow and bringing a hand to his warm chest, cocking an eyebrow at the man underneath you. Your fingers trace lightly over the contours. “A stranger?”

“Not a stranger,” he smirks. “I can teach you a few words for it in Mando’a.”

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Atiniir = “take it” Mesh’la = “beautiful”

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yes jango fett wrote hotline bling about u

#yes jango wants u to stop fucking kenobi #jango fett #jango fett x reader #jango fett x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #smut

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rileysramblings · 3 years

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Dilemma 1/5

Hvitserk x Unnamed Female Character

Summary: She finds herself running for her life in a forest, not knowing why or how she ended up there.

CAUTION IS RECOMMENDED - Warnings: threats, self harm, injuries, pain, accident.

Side Note: This is my first attempt at a fic from Vikings and I have not posted anything anywhere in years...

// Masterlist. //

Chapter One: The Forest.

The forest was dark and the air was so cold it hurt to breathe. She managed to avoid the tree to her left and continued running even though her chest felt caged and heavy. She kept looking back making sure they weren’t nearby, her hair getting caught on her face and in her mouth at every turn.

Her heart was going so fast it felt like she could only hear that haunting beat and she could barely feel anything else but its ever so accelerating pulse. It was hard to focus on anything else and she almost fell, her feet getting caught on the uneven ground. Her hands on the nearest tree trunk, she took a deep inhale hoping she could rest for a moment.

“We know you’re here!”

Her head rose up, fear erasing all other thoughts. She started running again. Her breathing was sparse, she had never run so much for so long in all her life. The adrenaline was helping but her body was beginning to suffer and she could feel she was beginning to lose control of her limbs.

“Stop running now and we’ll be merciful”

A teardrop ran down her cheek as she felt a branch tear the skin on her arm. She lost her balance again but couldn’t find anything nearby to help steady herself and she fell to the ground, hitting her head.

Hard.

When she opened her eyes again, the numerous lights surrounding her made her squint. She couldn’t see anything but the blue lights on one side and the yellow one on the other and that weird obnoxious flashing red one that made everything worse.

The noise level was insane. There were people speaking loudly from every corner and she could hear people screaming in the back, not to mention the sirens going full blast but even with all that comotion surrounding her, she couldn’t avoid the fact that her entire body ached. Her left arm felt heavy and she wasn’t sure she could move it, let alone lift it and the feeling of something heavy set on her chest affected the way she breathed when she could muster the energy to try.

“Hey” she heard a voice on her right, it was faint when compared to the chaos nearby but she tried to focus on it. She turned her head a little and regretted it instantly. The pain shot through her with intensity and she closed her eyes, finding herself not able to scream.

“Hey, don’t-” he exclaimed but she didn’t hear the end of the statement. All the noises nearby came rushing in all at the same time and the need for her to scream was never so intense, yet she couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t do anything but force herself to open her eyes again. Tears ran down her cheeks as the man continued to call for her.

“I need you to stay awake, ok?” she heard the masculine voice better somehow, closer. She saw his hand approaching, trying to free her from her prison. His voice was getting more agitated by the seconds, frantic in the words he used and the way he spoke. The more distraught he sounded, the more tired she felt. Or maybe it was the reverse. She tried to keep her eyes open, or as open as she physically could, but as fast as the man’s words grew almost hysterical, her eyes closed.

Soon she couldn’t even hear the sirens in the background.

She felt light headed. Her breathing was still scarce but it felt as if the weight on her chest had been moved to her left arm. Strangely enough though, she felt lighter, somewhat better. She found the strength to open her eyes once more only to find herself, in her horror, in the forest again. She could clearly hear the people following her distinctly and fear overcame her body one more time.

She was on her feet again and running before she could muster a clear thought. She could feel the blood on her left arm and the fresh air hitting the new cut on her forehead but she tried not to think about any of it. All she needed to do was concentrate on her running and putting as much space between her and the men hunting her down. By the time she realized her speed was being slowed down by the uneven ground beneath her feet and the trees as obstacles she kept stumbling onto, she was surrounded by the men she was trying to run away from.

They were barely out of breath while she was barely alive. She couldn’t see their faces but she continued to rotate her body, not facing one man more than a few seconds, scared that one would attack her from behind.

One of them approached and she stumbled almost losing her balance and he stopped dead in his tracks. She was stunned to find surprise and confusion in his eyes but didn’t stay face to face with him any longer than a couple of seconds as she heard someone moving behind her.

Another man was walking slowly towards her, he seemed also surprised but not confused or annoyed. His bright blue eyes looked slightly amused by the situation. “Are we playing a game?” he asked and she gulped. Her breathing, already poor, got more erratic.

To each step he took in her direction, she took one little step back trying not to corner herself with another man behind her. Her brain started to respond to her commands again enough so that she could ask herself questions.

Where was she? Was she in a forest surrounded by unknown men whom’s intentions were still a mystery? Or was she stuck in a small space, lights everywhere and chaos surrounding her?

Why would she be in a forest hunted down by strange men? This had to be a nightmare of some kind. Yes. She was stuck in the chaotic concert of lights and sirens and she needed to go back. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

The man walking towards her was raising his hands now, as if approaching a wild animal, and she gulped realizing she had gotten lost in her own thoughts and he had taken advantage of the situation. He was merely a few steps away.

She made a sudden move and the cut on her left arm awoke, reminding herself of her fall earlier. And she understood. She stopped moving and let the stranger get closer.

She had fallen down, hurt her arm and hit her head so badly that she had woken up.

His hands were raised and the man’s blue eyes showed amusement. His head was bent slightly to the side as if showing her he was willing to play.

She breathed in deeply and in a swift move, she stole the dagger from his belt and sliced herself on the shoulder. The skin was pierced deep and blood started pouring onto her skin and clothes.

“No no no no no no no! NO!”

The look of amusement shifted to one of horror in a flash and screams started to echo in the forest. She couldn’t decipher from where exactly they were coming from, all she could feel was fatigue.

“CALL A HEALER!”

Next Chapter →

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #dilemma #long fiction

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cloverque · 3 years

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departure (haiba lev)

出发 (灰羽リエーフ)

a departure doesn’t always guarantee a return

4128 words

post time skip! model lev, fiances, angst, concept of waiting, alt ending (w/ closure)

a (reuploaded) req for a certain lev lover <3

Haiba Lev wasn’t the most level headed person. He was blunt, foolish, assertive, and sometimes, a simpleton. And yet, despite his innumerable flaws, you loved him.

You adored the discordant, entwined, looping threads that made up for who he was, his strengths and weaknesses, every fibre of his being. Furthermore, your love was unyielding; a delicate yet persistent wild flower, sprung from the cracks in concrete.

Your love for the male stemmed from your starting days in high school. It was a random encounter, in which he bumped into you in a hallway, and then somehow, you began fawning over the half Russian.

Inconspicuously, you would watch him from afar: walking by the gym to sneak glances, matching up your schedule with the volleyball club’s, just to catch glimpses of him during their laps around the school.

You were fascinated with the long limbed teen’s energy and presence on the court. He was handsome too, his facial and body structure flawlessly sculpted by God himself to be the epitome of masculinity.

Your puppy love and admiration for him motivated you to travel far and wide to watch his volleyball matches, with hopes that maybe one day, Lev would notice you.

Lev wasn’t the brightest with a few things, with consciousness of his surroundings topping his list. Your encounter with him had slipped his mind, since it meant only so little, and he never realised you were in the same cohort, for pete’s sake.

If it weren’t for Kenma, who had pointed you out among the spectators, he wouldn’t have realised you always watched their matches. So he decided to approach you after one, and asked if you were from Nekoma High. You were momentarily stunned, then gave him a radiant smile, one so bright he would never forget.

After that, the two of you hit it off effortlessly. Within a few months, your freshly sprouted friendship with Lev blossomed into something more. Years passed, both of you graduated, and the two of you were still going strong, happily dating. The now esteemed model and you even began contemplating on a larger milestone, one which would change both of your lives forever.

That is, until Lev received an ominous phone call that presaged the end of your current chapter.

It happened too quickly to say for sure what was going on. He had told you the night before, as he held you in his arms, that he would be gone for a while. That he needed to attend to some personal matters back at home.

Lev’s tone was a little too quiet when he broke the news. “I… gotta leave for a while, (y/n).“ He was holding you close, arms draped around your waist and legs tangled with yours.

You stopped circling your finger around his bicep to glance up at him. Studying the distant look in his green orbs, you raised your brows. “Okay, where to?”

“Russia. My grandma wants me to return immediately.” Lev’s attention shifted from the ceiling to your curious gaze. His warm, minty breath fanned your face as he exhaled. “I think I’ll take a while.”

“Oh…” You rest your cheek on his chest, lashes fluttering close as you murmured. “I’ll miss you, but I can wait. Just don’t keep me waiting for long, alright?”

“Mhmm, okay.” Smiling tenderly, Lev peppered your skin with kisses, making you giggle. You slowly opened your eyes to take in the way the moonlight from the balcony glossed over his flawless, pale skin.

Lev’s fingers hovered over the silver band on your ring finger, lingering there before taking your hand in his. His own matching ring clinked against yours softly when you laced your fingers with his, your warm palms heating up his cold ones as you dozed off, flushed against his chest.

When morning came, he was gone. You had failed to bid him goodbye as Lev‘s egression was committed silently. The days passed like any other, and you would text him once in a while to check up on him. However, you never received a response. Not on SMS. Not on social media. Nowhere.

Days trickled to weeks, months, and by the third one, you were too overwhelmed with paranoia. After deep recollection, you realised he never told you when he would return. Surely, his departure meant a return, right?

You had asked the Nekoma volleyball club alumni and his friends of his whereabouts, and they all told you the same thing: they didn’t know. Desperate, you attempted to contact his sister Alisa, but to no avail. Both Haiba siblings were uncontactable, and the calls always went to voicemail.

Over the days, your fear and anxiety manifested into dark rings, rimming your puffy eyelids. Life went on whilst your heart and mind ran rampant, and eventually, you stopped appearing at work.

Not a day went by without you thinking of him. Your fiancé plagued your mind and heart 24/7, and it was impossible to stop thinking about him.

Where is he? When will he return? What’s taking him so long? Why is he not home yet? Has he forgotten about me?

Did Lev forget that I’m still waiting for him?

…

The front door to your shared apartment creaked slowly, and a raven haired man in a dark suit shuffled in. He closed the door slowly, his pupils dilating to compensate for the lack of light entering the apartment. The once bright green plants lining the balcony were drooping in their eternal shade, signifying that the curtain had not been drawn in days.

The man slipped off his shoes and socks, taking notice of the unworn, white slippers by the front door, then shuffled in. You glanced up from the blankets when you heard the soft padding of feet.

Your heart threatened to leap out of your chest as your eyes grew wide with anticipation. “Lev?” You croaked, hauling yourself to a sitting position. “Is that you?”

The door slowly creaked open to reveal your colleague and good friend, Kuroo Tetsurō. Your smile faded away, and your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sorry I’m not who you think I am.” The male stood by the now open doorway, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

Ever since you stopped showing up at work, Kuroo would check up on you every weekend, and sometimes the posse would tag along too. The ex-captain had your apartment’s spare key, thanks to Lev, who randomly picked the holder during your home warming party.

You glanced down at the crumpled bed sheets as he walked into the dusty bedroom. Kuroo drew open the curtains leisurely, filling the room with a dim, blue light whilst multi coloured lights from the skyscrapers across the balcony twinkled with animosity. Specks of dust scattered in the air, latching onto the nearby furniture while some drifted aimlessly. The end of the bed dipped as he sat down, and you looked up to find him scrutinising you with a furrowed frown.

“Have you been eating well?” His eyes trailed over your sunken cheeks and jaundiced skin. Your face was devoid of your usual, radiant glow.

You glanced away from his piercing amber eyes. The eyes in the photos atop the nightstand bore holes into your soul as you rasped, “Why are you here? If it’s about work, I already told you that I asked my section manager to let me work from home–“

“(y/n), that’s not why I’m here.” Kuroo interrupted with a huff. Cloth rustled as he fished his phone out of his jacket’s inner pocket. With a few soft taps, he turned to you, and showed you his screen. You squinted your eyes and unconsciously leaned closer to read the blurry, digital print.

“SUPERMODELS HAIBA LEV AND RUSSIAN ACTRESS KHRISTINA SNOW POTTED LEAVING LUXURIOUS HOTEL TOGETHER“

Your eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets as you absorbed the image below the title. It was indeed your fiancé, you could recognise his broad shoulders and otherworldly jawline a mile away.

Dressed in a crisp suit, Lev’s arm was linked with a dainty woman, whose diamond necklace scintillated under the harsh glare of camera lights. The pencil skirt clinging to her wide hips had a scandalously long slit that stopped at her upper thigh, exposing her red lacey panties by a hair length.

Both of them had sunglasses on, but only the woman had a gleeful expression, while Lev’s lips were pressed together tightly. Just like the title had stated, they seemed to be walking away from an edifice constructed of solely glass panels, and you instantly recognised it. It was a renowned, five star hotel. In Japan.

You were too stunned to say anything. Even your mind, which had been incessantly filled with nothing but your lover, was now blank. The information overload was overwhelming.

This is all too much.

Suddenly, Kuroo withdrew his phone, pulling you back to reality with it. “So, I’m guessing you didn’t know?” He raised a dark brow as he pocketed his electronic device. “The article’s from some lowly paparazzi, so I doubt anything’s true… But it’s blowing up on Twitter.”

Your eyes flickered from your trembling hands to the bed sheets as you began quietly. “I… I thought he left for Russia…” Gripping the covers on your lap, your eyes silently brimmed with tears as you continued shakily, “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I’m so confused…”

Kuroo‘s gaze never left you as you began shaking uncontrollably. He knew that you were desperately fighting back your tears. It was something you did often back in high school: you would try not to cry in front of the team when they won a match, despite your voice breaks and your glassy eyes. It was something the boys found endearing, especially Lev.

The raventte cursed inwardly at his junior’s stupidity. How could he make such a lovely girl like you cry? Wordlessly, the male shifted closer and pulled you into his chest, surprising you but you didn’t retreat.

Kuroo’s gesture was nothing but friendly, after all. He patted your back reassuringly, and your bottom lip trembled as you clung onto his shirt.

Pitter patter.

Your tears fell like torrents, gushing endlessly as you buried your face into his chest. Gripping tightly onto his dress shirt, you cried into the fabric, wailing the pent up emotions you had kept at bay the past few months. You wept like tomorrow would never come.

…

A few days had passed and you finally decided to confront Lev. Seeing how he wouldn’t respond to your messengers, you decided to hunt him down and talk to him face to face. It was easy to track him down, thanks to the ‘lowly paparazzi’ website, which constantly updated his whereabouts. For once, you were grateful for his overbearing fans.

To be fair, you felt a little bad about his own privacy, but you were also too engulfed in a mixture of confusion, jealousy and infuriation to sympathise with him.

You had everything planned out, what to say and retort, and you had to remind yourself that as much as he deserved to be heard out, you also had a right to be upset with him. Especially after the emotional and mental torment he intentionally (or unintentionally) subjected you to.

But it was impossible to deny that you had hoped that he had a good explanation for everything. You prayed fervently that he would return to your arms, like he always did. Memories of past, better days solely stabilised you during this emotional period.

When the weekend arrived, you threw on a your coat and hopped into your car and drove off. Apparently, Lev and Khristina, were dining at a high class café, located in the fancier suburbs of Tokyo. When you reached there, you parked your car by the sidewalk and sauntered in, ignoring the valet who glanced at you then at your vehicle.

Honestly, you never thought you would see the day when you would resort to stalking your fiancé, just to have a talk with him. But this was no ordinary talk, and the half blood knew when he saw you walk into the café.

You were fuming, brows scrunched up with the angriest expression he had ever seen in his life. Lev jumped up in his seat, like he had seen the ghost of Christmas past, and quickly excused himself.

As he shuffled towards the entrance, he met you halfway and tugged you outside by the wrist. His strides were quick, and he hissed when you dug your fingernails into his hand in defiance.

“Let me go!” You snapped fiercely, like a tigress baring its jaws at its adversary. He released you from his hold when he reached his destination: the back alleys of the shops.

The silver haired man didn’t back away. He was looking at you with shock, hurt and something else. Was it fear, nervousness? You couldn’t tell. You were too frustrated with him.

“(y/n)… I can explain–“ He began, a hand outstretched but you cut him off.

“I told you I‘d wait, didn’t I?” You glared up at him with narrowed eyes. His aghast expression wedged the knife deeper in your heart as you inhaled. “You… You said you had to leave. And I believed you! But four months passed and you didn’t bother to contact me. Not even once…”

Lev ran a hand through his now disheveled hair, which was pushed back until now. “Please, let me explain. I had my reasons, I swear.”

You realised the engagement ring on his finger was nowhere to be seen. Your lover opened his mouth to explain when you deadpanned.

“Where’s your ring?”

Lev’s eyes widened, from fright or concern, you weren’t sure. His usually bright, green orbs would he glowing with love whenever he gazed at you, but not today.

“(y/n), I–“

“Love, who’s that?” Came a sweet, enchanting voice at the start of the alley. It was Khathrina, a long legged lady with platinum blonde hair that cascaded down her back in voluminous waves.

She blinked her thick, wispy lashes at you curiously, and you clenched your jaw in retaliation. Glancing at Lev, you hoped that he would put her in her place. Anything along the lines of ‘she’s my girlfriend’ or ‘fiancé’ would have suffice, but no. It was a far fetched dream.

“No one, my dear.” Came Lev’s response, and he walked past you, bumping shoulders into you in the process. You gasped quietly when he cast you a cold, once over behind his broad shoulders.

He had looked at you as if the two of you had never met before. It burned a hole in your stomach, and you were too stunned to react. Frozen in your spot, your facade crumbled with every step he took, further away from you and to someone else.

When he reached the woman’s side, the duo linked arms and departed without another word.

…

You fumbled with your keys for the hundredth time. It took you a whole five minutes to enter your apartment, and when you did, you slammed the door shut behind you and slumped to the floor.

What on earth was that? How could he do that to me? How is that the same boy I fell in love with?

You had driven over to confront Lev, but in the end all you got was a deeper scar. Everything made no sense, and your mind throbbed with confusion and fatigue.

Everything became blurry as tears overwhelmed your vision, and you tugged at your shirt, at the thorn embedded in your heart. It was so close yet so far and out of reach. Drawing your knees to your chest, you cried your heart out once again.

Moments passed with you laying at the entrance, gazing at the unworn white slippers speckled with dust.

…

Like before, days spun into weeks, months, and even a year. Eventually, you deserted your shared apartment and rented a place, one far away from your previous home. You had only taken your clothes and necessities, leaving behind the photo frames and everything else as everything reminded you of him.

It would be a lie to claim that you didn’t miss him, but you had partially given up when the news stated that supermodels Lev and Khathrina were now married.

It made no sense, really. Perhaps this was all a bad dream, you reasoned, fiddling with the silver band around your ring. Maybe you were in a coma, and this was all a lengthy nightmare that you would soon wake up from.

Yes, when you wake up, your fiancé would be next to you, lying in bed, chest rising in steady rhythms whilst the morning sun shines on his handsome face. Haiba would turn around to greet you good morning through half lidded eyes, and he would tuck your hair behind your ears with a cheeky, yet gentle smile.

There’s no way any of this is real…! We’ve come so far, and he loves me more than anyone can imagine.

But as time passed, you began to realise that, perhaps Haiba Lev had departed long ago.

(ALT. END)　　　　　　　　

You fumbled with your keys for the hundredth time. It took you a whole five minutes to enter your apartment, and when you did, you slammed the door shut behind you and slumped to the floor.

What on earth was that? How could he do that to me? How is that the same boy I fell in love with back then?

You had driven over to confront Lev, but in the end all you got was a deeper scar. Everything made no sense, and your mind throbbed with confusion and fatigue.

Out of nowhere, your phone began vibrating.

Sniffling, you fished it out of your coat and accepted the call blindly. “H-Hello?” You stuttered, rubbing away your tears with the back of your hand.

“It’s me, (y/n).” The familiar warm, low voice of Lev’s filled the silent room. Your eyes grew wide in shock, and you glanced at the caller ID to realise it wasn’t his usual phone number. “I don’t have much time, I’ll be gone by tomorrow, love.”

“Tomorrow? What?” You parroted, albeit dumbly as you raked your foggy mind for clarity.

You could almost imagine the frown on your boyfriend’s face when he blabbered. “Are you crying? I mean, were you…?” His voice trailed off, and you quickly blurted out that you weren’t.

A soft chuckle graced your ears and you felt the frustration and sadness from before ebb away. Leaning against the door, you listened attentively as he directed you to a location where he had agreed to rendezvoused. No sooner had he ended the call did you fly out of the apartment.

When you reached the park, you realised it was already midnight. You waited by a willow tree he had mentioned to you, and within a few minutes, he showed up.

You had lost all your fight and gave in to temptation. Throwing your arms around Lev, you held him in a tight embrace as you buried your face into his neck. Grinning widely, the ‘skyscrapper’ wrapped his arms around your back and rest his head atop yours, humming softly.

“I missed you, (y/n).” He had whispered softly, as if he was afraid that you would disappear any moment. “I’m always thinking of you, your smile, your smell…”

Shamelessly, he pressed his face against your head and inhaled it greedily. You giggled at the warm air tickling your scalp then looked up at him with glossy, doe eyes. “I missed you too. More than you can imagine.”

“Hey, I’m here now,” and Lev’s smile began to fade as he set you down onto your feet. Taking your hand, he guided you to sit under the beautiful willow tree. “I promised I’d tell you everything, and I will.”

As the moon waned in the night sky, you listened intently as the silver haired man explained to you what had happened the past few months. He went into detail that he had received a call from his tragically ill grandmother, that she had requested for him and his sister to return to Russia to see them one last time.

And being the filial grandson he was, he accompanied Alisa back to Russia. But upon their arrival, he realised that she was perfectly fine! Her real motive was to introduce him to a fair maiden, whom she had taken a liking to, and so she did. The girl just so happened to be another model, and one of pure Russian descent.

Lev explained animatedly how upset the old lady was when he told her that he was already engaged.

Your lover raised his ring finger to show you his gleaming band, and you almost teared up at the sight. He continued with a sigh, shaking his head as he relayed that she wanted Lev to give the girl a chance.

And in the end, he was forced to be engaged to her temporarily, until the octogenarian passed on.

So for now, they were spending some time in Japan, as the girl was determined to sightsee with her short-term fiancé. But eventually they would return to Russia, so that they could spend time together with his grandma.

It was, without a doubt, a peculiar situation. But a huge burden had been lifted off your shoulders, now that you knew why they were involved for a while.

“At first I didn’t contact you because I was unsure of myself. What to say, and to think…” He took your hand in his, and raised his head, green orbs gleaming with guilt.

He was threading carefully, something he hardly did, and your heart swelled. “But then it slowly turned into something bigger than that, and I feared that you would leave me because of this mess.

“I know what I did was awful and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I hope you know how much I love you and that I think about you every single day.” Closing his eyes, he brought your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles tenderly. When he reopened them, he gave you a dejected, lopsided smile. “I always have.”

“Then why did you act like you didn’t know me earlier?” You dipped your head, sideways. “You know, in front of her?”

“I had to put on an act, just to please my granny… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He squeezed your hand, “This is only temporary. Once it’s over, I’ll return to Japan as soon as possible.”

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat. He was about to depart again, the man you had loved for a decade.

“Promise me you’ll come back. Back to me.” Placing a hand atop his, you locked eyes with him, “Please.”

He brushed back the stray strands of hair to glimpse at your sparkling irises. Lev’s heart clenched at the eyebags under your beautiful orbs, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours.

“I promise.”

The willow branches hid two of you from the world as the two of you conversed for hours, catching up on everything that had happened. You spent the rest of the night holding each other in the secluded park, fingers entwined silently.

…

Lev departed for Russia once again when the sun rose. You had bidded him goodbye tearfully, knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak to him in, possibly, a very long time. Nevertheless, you believed in the promise the two of you had made, and that kept you going.

It was still a little sad to wake up every morning without him next to you. Sometimes, you would even mistake a morning zephyr for his breath against your skin. Watching your favourite drama series alone without his ignorant comments and boisterous laughter pained you with a smile. But despite the lonely moments, you pushed forward.

Haiba Lev wasn’t the most level headed person. He was blunt, foolish, assertive, and sometimes, a simpleton. And yet, despite his innumerable flaws, you loved him.

And you knew that one day, he would return. After all, his departure was not permanent.　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　fin.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #lev haiba #haiba lev #haikyuu lev x reader #haikyuu lev x y/n #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #🍡.lev #i dont dare to reread this jssjs

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh Episode 30 Season 4: The Dead Joey Shuffle

Lets ignore everything happening on planet Earth right now and talk about old ass anime, shall we? Yes, my sky turned a horrible end of the world yellow/orange color for an entire day because of a LOT of fire in my state. But thankfully, the winds have changed, the sky is blue...and I can write about Yugioh again.

Last we left off, Tristan, Tea, and Yami stumbled across two fresh corpses. Now, when Joey died a season or two ago (I honestly can’t remember when), we had my favorite storyboarder at the helm just sweeping emotion all over the field and the intense weeping for Joey Wheeler lasted for like 30 minutes. Yugi freaked out in the puzzle headspace for like half an episode and nearly gave up playing cards again, Yami punched a wall and then put a duel disk on Joey’s arm like a funerary send off to the afterlife, Tea started losing her mind and begged Yugi to drop out of the tourney so Yugi wouldn’t die, and Pharaoh was like “yo Tea, Yugi can’t talk right now can we do this later????” And then Tristan, out of nowhere, just started shaking Joey and screaming at him to wake up (and I think he punched him in the face and it got censored? Yo that episode is wild.) Joey got plugged to some Kaiba Corp med bay that had like 2 dozen weird sensors attached to his chest and feet to keep him alive. Serenity was like hyperventilating in the back, just a LOT of stuff was happening all at once.

But this time, with an ordinary animation team, these three kids are so distracted by the other corpse, that they only cry just a little bit before being like “woah what?”

And like this is their second time. Maybe they’ve gotten used to Joey being dead? Maybe they got it all out of their system and are now a lot more accustomed to the fact that they all must die. Several times.

Confronted with this Agatha Christie brand debacle, Tristan makes an incredible reach that is also completely correct. Like this is such an amazing incredible reach.

Hire Tristan as your detective, hot damn. There are like 7.8 billion Orichalcos-possessed people on this planet right now trying to kill Joey Wheeler and Tristan actually called the right one.

Yami never tells us who he blames, but it’s OK, because the show immediately cuts over to Dartz’ silicon valley fortress to tell us without telling us. So while this animation team isn’t as insanely extra as our previous animation teams, they still know how to edit their cuts to work alongside their dialogue just fine.

(read more under the cut)

Lets take a little while to just take this in. Someone took a while to make it, so rather than look at it for half a second before it passes--please lets count the number of floating streets in this scene.

So before when I talked about the history of San Francisco, I mentioned the old Embarcadero, which was a double decker street wrapped around the peninsula. (we still see parts of this double decker set up on parts of the highway to this day.) But what if--they actually have no idea that the Embarcadero was a thing before it fell down in an earthquake?

What if they just...wanted San Francisco to be vaguely cyberpunk in this universe and that floating freeway was supposed to be futuristic and not just an 80′s throwback?

Because there’s 3 streets stacked on top of eachother right here and yo there is no where in the city built like this. This is a Gotham situation where the poors live on the lower levels and the rich just kind of hang out on the top. We have too many Earthquakes in reality to ever support this setup but Yugioh...wow. They went for it.

Also, our art deco architecture isn’t quite in this style as Dartz’ mansion. Mind you, this isn’t full deco, and the structure has more of an ancient world vibe. But...while San Fransisco does have a lot of deco, it’s just different (sorry you’re not really here for the architecture but youknow, I’m an artist so I do think a lot about why concept artists may have gone where they went)

++++++++++RANT ABOUT SF DECO VS COMIC BOOK DECO FEEL FREE TO SKIP++++++++++++++

So I’m not going to dare say this is a mistake on the Yugioh team by any means, since Deco is Deco and who knows when Dartz built that building. But like I’ve seen the SF skyline many times in this show and it’s got some funky shapes in it that are just sooo off to me. They keep drawing a more Futurist New York. Truth is, we don’t have that many skyscrapers in SF.

Most of the pictures you see of scaling buildings are of this one area around the financial district--everything else is...pretty short. So in those photos they very carefully crop out all the really squat as hell buildings on either side of it, to give the impression that our city is super tall, much like a dating app.

And, as far as Art Deco Gotham-esque skyscrapers go, we got ones like this guy:

Where at a glance it’s like...that’s barely deco (and barely that impressive. This is 1/3 the height of the Empire State building.) Compared to a lot of cities in America, our skyscrapers aren’t as...clearly deco from far away? We don’t have the huge ass humps and long ass gilded lines of the Empire State building or the Chrysler building. You only really get those details when you zoom in.

Our other skyscrapers are kinda understated or modern in comparison. And the reason why we just don’t have many deco skyscrapers is because...our ground ain’t good for building skyscrapers at all, so it took us kind of a while to build up.

Like we got this tower that we built recently (the first skyscraper they built in SF in a good while) and they decided to name it the “The Millennium Tower” which...I know...good job, team, clearly you wanted to get cursed. Well the tower started leaning about 3 or 4 years ago, like well over a foot from it’s original spot, it’s just tilting and sinking away, and people are freaking out because it’s surrounded by other tall buildings so they’re like “damn it we’re gonna dominoes.” The people in charge were like “well...we don’t know why it’s leaning...but I’m sure it’s fine” and it’s like “the ground. It was the ground...you dumbasses” not to mention that it’s clearly cursed by at least one angry Egyptian Ghost but...what do you do?

I would absolutely watch the Yugioh spinoff season about the Millennium Tower and the SF tycoons that got possessed by a ghost and have to play card games to keep their tower from squishing all of San Francisco. Yo you should hire me, Yugioh, I got IDEAS.

Man...Yugioh predicting the future, how did they call the ill fate of The Millennium Tower????

But anyway, most skyscrapers in SF are kind of boring because they have to be sturdy as hell. But, they have some neat modern shapes (like the Transamerica Pyramid--in the shape of A PYRAMID that hasn’t shown it’s face once this entire Egyptian influenced anime)

I mean, come on Yugioh, it’s right there.

Also the hell is this weird UFO on this picture I lifted off of google?

Like I think it’s 4 jets?

I may have lifted this from an alien website, so forgive me, q-anon for lifting your image, I’m trying to talk about architecture in my Yugioh blog.

In fact the only building I (and google) can think of that is both really tall and deco-ey is this one:

And it’s a Marriot hotel built in the late 80′s. And honestly, it looks way more 1980′s Las Vegas than it does Deco. (It honestly looks like photobashing but made real, this is a weird building.)

And I could be wrong and overlooking a very important structure, but most of the city’s really cool art deco buildings are in the form of theaters, libraries, churches, schools, and houses--which are only a few stories tall. They’re gorgeous buildings with cool and different silhouettes, it’s just not very big.

Like I believe this is an old high school?

also a lot of our “art deco” has no idea if it’s victorian, deco, or art noveau so they’ll just hit all of it to see what sticks. It’s a lot more eclectic than other places where Deco is typically more...straight-lined. I kinda hate defining art styles as masculine or feminine but honestly it’s the quickest way to really hit home the difference between a Bruce Timm art deco that you’d see in a comic book, (which is very New York inspired) and what we have in San Fransisco which is really decorative and decadent.

The Yugioh SF just has no curvy nonsense and that really sticks out to me.

Ornate swirls get shoved Everywhere. Willy nilly. Just everywhere randomly. And it sits next to other structures that are modern and simplistic. It’s very San Francisco to have this old world next to new world.

And it makes sense. SF is the other side of the continent from New York, and about as far West as you can go from the movement going on in Europe. So...we made our own take and tl;dr the art deco in our city doesn’t look like Gotham at all.

And, while it’s not as grand or dark or iconic, it’s a good thing. It’s what helps make San Fransisco look really unique compared to other American cities--the fact that we're...short and eclectic. Our district with the skyscrapers is where it’s kinda boring, actually--the good stuff is when you get away from that. Where every little building has a spunky wild personality.

But in a show like this you gotta make it seem more grand and less homely so--they scaled up the buildings a lot more than we really have and homogenized all the stylings into one (and they axed every Victorian swirl because they don’t want to draw that). They really just turned SF into comic book New York--especially since I’ve only seen like...one steep hill since we got here.

It’s fine, and it makes complete sense why they did it, (I’m more confused as to why most of California is a Nevada desert so I can easily forgive a San Francisco without the right Deco) it’s just a very different energy.

and honestly...it’s an energy influenced by the tone of the show. Everything has a very dark blue-gray palate, and it’s because it’s literally the end of the world, Joey has died, everyone is sad...maybe it would be out of place to have a building that looks like it sparks joy? The harsh and cold lines do add to the gravity of the situation.

Maybe I would have done the same thing? In the end, the legibility of your story matters more than the accuracy of your story--especially when it comes to TV. Which is somewhat a controversial statement, and there’s exceptions when it comes to cultural stuff. But while the culture of San Fransisco was erased (a culture that they did draw in the beginning of the season! they did show alcatraz, a trolly, and the golden gate!), it is at a point in the show where...all of humanity is being erased anyway. Could also be symbolic? Maybe?

+++++++++++++END OF THE ART DECO RANT+++++++++++++

So anyway, stepping away from lovely buildings and into this gross ass abandoned park, Yami decides he’s gotta get himself to this gaudy ass Batman building ASAP.

He can ride a horse but he absolutely will not ride a motorcycle. Or touch Joey Wheeler’s dead body.

Which is wild because apparently there’s a Yugioh spinoff where all they do is ride motorcycles??? But from what I heard, Yami is not in it. Which is the most wild thing.

So uh...you know how much I love art details, lets take a long look at this one.

AH no.

Nope nope nope nope.

I hate this logo. It looks like an emperor penguin’s eyebrow thingies. Like a face with just four huge eyebrows.

Not sure why we randomly have a new logo. It’s nearly the end of the season, we’ve already shown the Orichalcos logo so many times. Was this episode made earlier in development than the rest? Is that why there were like - I dunno, put this random logo here... Maybe we’ll figure out the rest of the logo later?

I don’t know. This weird logo feels so out of place.

And then because I’m thinking about buildings...maybe it’s influenced by our Shell building?

Maybe? Or not? Just saying you got a round thing with radial lines hovering over a trellis...the possibility is there that they were inspired but had to edit it down for animation? Eh, I’m reaching desperately for anything that looks like San Francisco at this point.

Anyways, the front door of this building is an elevator (????) and in a somewhat confusing set of cuts, out of this elevator comes the murderer herself.

And she’s dead.

SO HAPPY I didn’t have to watch that card game but like...c’mon. There’s no way Mai would lose to Raphael.

Maybe that’s why they couldn’t show it? Because she’s the only person on this show who uses a themed deck with cards that actually sync with eachother? (outside of Pegasus’ toon deck and Grandpa’s voltron deck ((sorry it’s name isn’t voltron, I’ve forgotten the name of the robot that you build out of other cards. Exodus? Exodysseus?

It’s Exodia isn't it? Wtv. 2020′s been a real long one, all y’all.)) )

(don’t ask where the smoke came from, we don’t know. Maybe Yami felt like making it to be more aesthetic. It is a fun visual tic to the show.)

So Yami goes into this elevator instead of anticipating that this is obviously a trap. Like most would just decide to take the stairs instead, but Yami loves falling for a good obvious trap every once and a while (or, in the case of this season--each and every single time a trap is placed in front of him) and so this takes him directly to the fightclub roof of yore.

Ah. We started this season on fightclub roof, in like...2010 or whenever I started this season. Feels like forever ago. How long has the year of 2020 been? 20 years of my life? 40 years of my life? Was I in fact never born before 2020 started? I honestly don’t remember anymore who I was before this year happened. Probably because I inhaled just a hell ton of wildfire smoke and now my brain is a bunch of jelly beans rattling around in a jar.

Anyway, Raphael just hands Yami (by hands I mean throws aggressively) Joey’s dragon card.

A little unsure why he’d do this since...this is the weapon to destroy Dartz. Why are you giving it back to the Pharaoh? But apparently, Raphael did that to prove that he is the murderer of Mai, who murdered Joey and...youknow...the stuff that we know but would be pretty difficult for the people in this show to follow.

Mai’s voice actor seeing “Mumbo-Jumbo” and being like “Well if I’m doing this, I’m going to commit.“

WE ARE NEVER DUELING DARTZ.

I refuse that a duel with Dartz, in fact, ever happens in this season.

Kind of surprised whenever I see there’s still people left. SF is basically abandoned in comparison.

Thing is...that’s just SF on a holiday weekend.

And then, because Tristan’s in the middle of the street, the rest of the party has to try and run him over.

It is really funny to me that Seto went out of his way to ditch these people so MANY times, but keeps ending up around them again and again, and each time in a wildly different vehicle, each and every time it’s when these guys need a lift...he’s very quickly turning into the group’s soccer mom. Should’ve gotten a minivan.

And then this happens?

I’ll just leave this here:

I’m sure that fanfic writers everywhere rejoiced when Seto reached out a hand to catch Joey’s face from hitting the pavement. In all this was a bizarre animation and now that I’ve figured out my blender settings for the new update, I can finally cap little segments again.

Just don’t you dare flag me, tumblr. Hopefully segments less than 10 seconds long are fine.

Like there was this part where they had to just drag around Joey’s corpse over this rail, and it was Mokuba and Tristan just prying him up there like he were a potato sack and like...

...Joey’s gonna wake up with so many rail-shaped bruises! They do not treat him gently!

Then back on fightclub roof, Raphael made me do a bit of a double take when he accidentally implied the existence of another bean within that Pharaoh bean.

And no, Bakura did not show up at this point.

I would LOVE IT if Pharaoh biffed it a second time and Bakura suddenly took the reigns and was like “Oi loves! that was bloody easy!” but I...have a feeling that this team didn’t actually watch the episodes where Bakura is just vibing in that puzzle piece.

If this never comes back to bite Pharaoh in the ass...

It might never come back guys...I don’t know. How do these writers have this much self control to ignore Bakura for like a full season. How do you do it? I can’t hold a plot twist in for even like 5 seconds. How....how do you do it?

Anyways, now that Seto has Tea who has a map, they walk up to the entrance (I honestly forgot if they drove or walked because knowing this show, Seto would absolutely ignore the car. Either way, the Ferrari isn’t necessary anymore. Written right out of the script. Cars are hard to draw. Get rid of it)

You know, Mokuba’s seen an awful lot of corpses for a kid! Like 20ish corpses if you count the 2 times the Big 5 biffed it. Really should have left him with Rebecca! Youknow, the other kid the same age as him!

But it’s fine, we gotta train Mokuba to suppress that trauma deep, deep down like a proper Kaiba.

Youknow when I started this series I was like “I don’t get why everyone talks about the Kaibas so much, these two seem kinda like whatever” but now I’m on like S4 and like...I’m SO concerned about the Kaibas. With Yugi...whatever...he’s gonna be fine, but the Kaibas? Oh boy. Either one of them could go completely evil and I’d buy it.

And probably root for them.

And I know they won’t go full tilt, I’m pretty sure--but like...they COULD. I can’t say that about the rest of the cast.

Everyone’s made it!

Even joey’s weird coma/dead body for some reason!

Lol also I love this random sci-fi tech water tower next to Tea. What is that?

My drought senses are screaming, is that a huge ass water tower the size of a 4 story building next to Tea? Chances are, it’s got a jet in it or something because this is Yugioh, but...man. At least it doesn’t look like one of those rusty New York rooftop water towers. This show just completely not getting what SF looks like.

Whatever, he can resurrect the leviathan, maybe Dartz can make water?

Youknow, all you have to do to make California worship you forever is make rain. Screw this lizard nonsense. The man can power water. What’s he doing with this stupid snake?

But youknow, Yugioh just never really figures out how to harness the weather. They CAN and they do it all the time. But, do they use it for their benefit? Like freakin never.

Anyway, that’s all for now. I went on a looong rant about SF but maybe I’m just sick of my own house? Been a lot of fire and quarantine over here. It’s been messing with my head a fair amount so thanks for bearing with me and my weird ass update schedule (remember when I used to be productive? Was that just a dream I once had?)

But if you just got here, here’s a link to read these recaps in order, from the beginning way back in S1.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

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doomonfilm · 3 years

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Ranking : Martin Scorsese (1942-present)

Of all the places in the world that seem to be hubs for creative energy, New York stands high on my personal list of favorites, and when it comes to iconic New York filmmakers, there aren’t many that can hold a candle to the prolific career of Martin Scorsese. His appreciation for films, art and music blasts off the screen with the same energy as his kinetic cinematography and vibrant editing. Once he established himself as a mainstay in the industry, his list of collaborators evolved into a who’s who of acting legends, both old and new. His career spans just over 50 years, and even his latest film (his 25th in his catalog) went head to head with other contenders for the top awards of the year.

To put it bluntly, there is Martin Scorsese, and then there is a long list of imitators and those influenced by his genius. To rank his films is a true test of logic, patience and decision making, but after a few weeks of catching the 7 or so films I had yet to see, I think I can stand behind this list as my definitive ranking (from least to most favorite) of a director I hold in the highest regard.

25. Gangs of New York (2002) An honest attempt at an epic flick, but at the heart of the matter, I simply don’t care about either side in the battle Scorsese presents us. Set in New York City in the mid 19th Century during the Civil War, we are thrown into a generational battle where the two key figures have different goals... Bill the Butcher stands as antagonist in his fight to maintain power and control, while Amsterdam is our protagonist charged with a mission of revenge. In the end, neither side ends up mattering, very much like my personal experience with this all flourish, no foundation exercise in style.

24. Bringing Out the Dead (1999) Nicolas Cage was gearing up for the run that most people know him for now during the release of Bringing Out the Dead : he was coming off of Golden Globe and Academy Award wins for Leaving Las Vegas, but was quickly leaning towards films of a more exploitation-based style. This film marked a refinement of his wild-man persona, while simultaneously being one of the last high-level actor/director combinations he would be involved in before his mad dash to accept every film and avoid bankruptcy. New York is captured in a mid-transition point between the darkness of the 1970s and 1980s versus the Disney aesthetic of the new millennium, and while heavy on the entertainment factor (as well as visually striking), there is ultimately not enough on this plate to push it higher up the list.

23. The Color of Money (1986) If you had to do a quick gander at the Scorsese list and pick the film that, on paper, screams Hollywood, it’d be hard to argue against The Color of Money taking that top spot. A soft sequel to The Hustler, Scorsese picks up the Fast Eddie story in the 1980s (an era that oozes out of each and every frame of this film), and yet, despite this legendary move, the film is ultimately the Tom Cruise show. Scorsese’s trademark dollying and trucking camera shots work beautifully in the context of this film, but in a story that shines bright, the star of Cruise ultimately outshines all that remains.

22. Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (1974) After a few exploitation-based projects, it seemed that Martin Scorsese wanted to provide a slightly different change in perspective, albeit one that still dwells in the darker corners of life. Rather than deal with the streets of New York or crime, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore is a study on broken homes, single parenthood and domestic violence that oscillates between the view of the titular Alice and her young son. Harvey Keitel gives another strong performance as a Scorsese regular, while Ellen Burstyn shines in a transitional role towards more mature performances. Seeing Scorsese camera movements coopted into a more down to Earth story was refreshing.

21. The Departed (2006) Many people would have assumed that The Departed would be higher on a list of Scorsese films based solely on the cast... pairing Leonardo DiCaprio opposite Matt Damon in a tension-filled triangle with Jack Nicholson is a bold combination in its own right, but surrounding this nucleus with Martin Sheen, Mark Wahlberg, Alec Baldwin, Kevin Corrigan, Anthony Anderson and supporting actors of that ilk creates a rich showcase of talent. Stylistically, everything you need is there too, as Scorsese proved time and again that films of this nature were his wheelhouse. That being said, the story itself, an adaptation of the 2002 Hong Kong thriller Infernal Affairs, takes a few liberties in its adaptation that ultimately are to the detriment of the narrative. Kudos to Scorsese for putting this one together, and too bad for him that the choices of William Monahan knocked what could have been a mega-classic way down the list.

20. New York, New York (1977) New York, New York is one of the most unique offerings from the Scorsese canon for a number of reasons. Of all his films, this one is probably the one that can be considered a “style exercise” more than the rest, as it oscillates between obvious sets and real locations before blurring the lines between the two. Long gaps of time are given to fully executed musical numbers (a must when a talent like Liza Minnelli is involved), and traditional methods of songwriting and performance are given their due respect. The exercise portion, however, comes in the newer acting styles that are infused into the old school structure... improvisation and aggressive physicality are used to put a deeper, disturbing red tint on an era often presented through a rose-colored lens. While interesting at times, the nearly three hour run time of the film begins to wear on the limits of the style, which ultimate leaves the film feeling more like a personal indulgence than a statement on changing times. For the iconic title track alone (and the buildup to its release), this film is worth seeing, but in terms of its placement in the realm of other Scorsese films, it may have to grow on me a while to find a higher placement on the list.

19. Boxcar Bertha (1972) Originally, this film was much lower on the list, largely due to its chronological placement between Who’s That Knocking at My Door and Mean Streets seeming odd to me. Upon revisitation, however, it stands clear and present that this film served as an exercise in the process of directing and organizing a shoot. With its period-specific placement, ensemble cast and action sequences, it was bound to be compared to (and ultimately overshadowed by) the formidable Bonnie and Clyde, but Boxcar Bertha has a few key moments in it (including a stellar final action sequence) that places it near the middle of the Scorsese canon, even with it being his second film.

18. Who's That Knocking at My Door? (1967) For all of the refinement that Scorsese found in his second film, his debut film, the stunning Who’s That Knocking at My Door?, stands as testament to the fact that Scorsese brought his many gifts to the table from day one. What started as a student graduate film grew into a speculative project, only to find 25th hour funding that allowed it a festival run and a proper release. The film took many years to complete and release, to the point that keen viewers will notice Harvey Keitel’s boyish, soft good looks morph into the sharper, edgier intense profile we came to recognize in Mean Streets and the films that followed. The energetic cinematography, respect of film as a medium, stellar music choices, defiance of youth, toxic masculinity and realistic look at relationships are all here, making this debut a hidden gem in the Scorsese canon.

17. The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) Seeing Scorsese retread old stylistic ground (as opposed to infusing his style into newer projects) is an interesting take, and for what my opinion is worth, The Wolf of Wall Street feels like Goodfellas for white collar criminals. In theory (and, in some aspects of the film, in reality), the experiment does work, but ultimately, this film finds its placement in the middle realms simply because we are given infinite sizzle off of what amounts to a very thin steak. Goodfellas works because it is carried by the weight of omerta, but The Wolf of Wall Street focuses on a culture where status comes from self-appointed importance, which ultimately makes for an attempted redemption story for despicable people.

16. The Irishman (2019) Seeing actors the stature of Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Al Pacino combine forces for a film is always a major event, but until 2019, those combinations have been limited to duos. When Netflix announced its intention to release The Irishman in 2019, people were not only intrigued on Scorsese’s take on the Jimmy Hoffa story, but seeing De Niro, Pesci and Pacino in the same film for the first time. For what it was worth, the trio lived up to all expectations, with the only bittersweet criticism being wishes that the three could have found a way to work together prior to the twilight of their careers. The historical drama is high quality, with Hoffa’s larger than life persona captured perfectly by Pacino, and bolstered by the dramatic chops brought to the table by De Niro and Pesci. The film is a tad on the long side, and the de-aging process tips into the realm of the uncanny valley due to the older actors’ physicality, but for a 25th film 52 years into an illustrious career, The Irishman must be recognized for the triumph that it is.

15. The Aviator (2004) Much like The Wolf of Wall Street, I avoided The Aviator for years simply because I have no interest or fascination with Howard Hughes. I was very much aware of his financial stature, his innovations as an aviator, his rocky love life and his personal demons that plagued him, but for my money’s worth, I was fine without seeing it presented on the big screen. In an effort to cover all the bases for a director I hold in high esteem, however, I made the decision to finally check out The Aviator, and for every element of the film I previously had no interest in, an element was presented that won me over. Cate Blanchett and Adam Dunn put on two of the strongest performances in the entire realm of Scorsese films, and the XF-11 crash sequence is possibly one of the grandest and well executed in any Scorsese film. Leave it to Martin Scorsese to make a powerful film about an individual I care nothing about and nearly crack the top ten with that effort.

14. Hugo (2011) Up to the point of watching Hugo, I knew nothing about it. About halfway through Hugo, I had to stop and look up how the film was received, as it was simply stunning, and sure enough, it was a monster in terms of award nominations and wins. I never would have pegged Scorsese as the type to direct a kid’s film, but in all honesty, that ‘kid’s film’ title is used as a façade for a love letter to film in general, and the groundbreaking work of Georges Méliès specifically. The look of the film is otherworldly, the energy is light, kinetic and infectious, and even a mostly slapstick performance by Sacha Baron Cohen yields surprising emotional depth when given the opportunity to do so. While just missing the top ten, Hugo easily stands as the number one surprise on this list in terms of pre-viewing expectations (of which there where none) versus post-viewing thoughts (of which there are many). Knowing that Hugo exists lets me know that one day, if I have children, and they want to know why I love film so much, I will have a film on the level of Cinema Paradiso to share with them and (hopefully) help foster a love of film they can call their own.

13. Casino (1995) For a time, this film stood as the last work containing the vibrant combination of Martin Scorsese, Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci, a trio of high energy creatives known for putting their all into their projects. Casino felt like a spiritual successor to Goodfellas, focusing on a lavish but secretive lifestyle with high stakes and even higher consequences. An instantly iconic movie, Casino felt like the end of an era in regards to gangster fare for Scorsese, opting instead for more challenging projects, adaptations of other books and films, or personal passion projects. It would be nearly 25 years later before Scorsese would touch similar subject matter or work with these actors again, but had Casino been the last of Scorsese’s so-called “gangster” films, I believe the world would have been happy with that.

12. Kundun (1997) To make one religious-based film in a career is a bold move to some, but I am hard-pressed to think of any director that made films on two different religions who didn’t explicitly make religious films. With that in mind, it is incredibly impressive that Martin Scorsese was able to make a film as moving and objective as Kundun after making such a bold take on religion as The Last Temptation of Christ. The film centers around the discovery, growth and eventual escape to India in light of growing aggression from China. In all honesty, I had my doubts as to whether or not the Scorsese style would work for this story, especially in light of the lack of cooperation from Tibet and China, but somehow, Scorsese’s amazing signature camerawork captures the unique spirit and essence surrounding the Dalai Lama. I’d heard of this film for years, but never got around to it until it was time to make this list, but I will almost certainly try to find a copy to own in the near future.

11. The King of Comedy (1982) What an odd left turn in regards of career trajectory for both Scorsese and De Niro. With three collaborations already under their belt (not to mention The Godfather II already being a well-established classic), it would have been easy to imagine the duo putting another notch on the gangster film genre belt. What we are given, however, is the yang to the yin of Taxi Driver : our protagonist is a statement on personal conviction and the trappings of instant stardom, our antagonist is a statement on star fascination and the high costs of celebrity, and our satellite characters directly reflect the toxicity certain fandoms can be capable of. Scorsese sets aside his normal flourish and camera moves for a mixing of film and video mediums, as well as a completely new sense of freedom in regards to the highly improvised nature of the film. Its influence on recent successful films like Joker is undeniable, but I’d argue that Joker lacks the heart, sincerity and realistic bite present in The King of Comedy.

10. After Hours (1985) Of all the “new to me” Scorsese flicks I finally viewed while preparing this list, After Hours stands as my favorite discovery of the bunch. I was marginally familiar with the film, both from my younger days in video stores and from friend recommendations, but for some reason, when Scorsese time arrived, After Hours seemed to never be on the docket. That oversight, however, will now be a thing of the past. This film feels like a personal challenge to Woody Allen in regards to how one should make a New York-based romantic comedy, and I’d be hard pressed to share any shortcomings or failures present in this comedic masterpiece. One of the few films that can be both a product of its era and a timeless classic, and one that should be much more recognized in the Scorsese canon.

9. Shutter Island (2010) Me hesitating or not getting around to Scorsese films seems to be a bit of a common theme here, but there was literally no excuse for me to take this long to get around to Shutter Island. Despite knowing the premise of the story (and even having the ending somewhat spoiled for me), I still found the impact of the final moments just as powerful as I imagine I would have going into this film blind. Some people will likely argue this statement, but in my opinion, this was the best Leonardo DiCaprio performance captured by Martin Scorsese. The asylum setting is wonderfully bleak, and the psychological horrors it infers create a vibrant playground for some of the most stunning visual symbolism that Scorsese has ever committed to film. Don’t be like me if you’ve not gotten around to Shutter Island yet, because it’s a thrill ride more than worth the price of admission, and a rewarding repeat viewer.

8. Mean Streets (1973) Mean Streets may have been Martin Scorsese’s third film, but for many fans, it was the first true indicator of the brilliance that was to come. A true New York film through and through, it not only presented fans with a stronger Harvey Keitel performance than Who’s That Knocking at My Door?, but it introduced the world to the palatable tandem of Scorsese and De Niro that would go on to lead to years and years of iconic performances. The use of altering aspect ratios is something that I wish Scorsese would have continued to use more often, but in all honesty, Mean Streets has style to spare. This the film that I love to recommend when people start ranting and raving about Goodfellas, and more often than not, it impresses those unfamiliar with it just as much.

7. The Age of Innocence (1993) Martin Scorsese’s love of film is widely known and well documented, but The Age of Innocence goes an additional step further by displaying Scorsese’s love of art. The film also is one of the most touching displays of unrequited love that Scorsese has committed to film, a slight alteration from his normal infusion of love stories trying to sustain in the surrounding chaos of gangs, crime, religion and so on. Daniel Day-Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer and Winona Ryder all give standout performances in this masterfully directed film. If Gangs of New York was meant to be the definitive old school New York film in the Scorsese canon, then The Age of Innocence is the unintended definitive New York film from Scorsese, with some European touches thrown in for good measure.

6. Cape Fear (1991) Of the many, many iconic performances that Robert De Niro has given Martin Scorsese, I’d be hard pressed not to put his characterization of Max Cady at the top by a clear margin. Cape Fear was already a classic film adaptation of The Executioners when it was first released in 1957, but De Niro pulled two fast ones with his update : in terms of casting, especially with the aforementioned De Niro, Scorsese brought the harrowing story into a much darker, recent world, therefore increasing the tension by upping the ante for violent retribution, while at the same time, paying direct homage to the original by having Elmer Bernstein adapt the original Bernard Herrmann score. Juliette Lewis also provided a breakout performance in this modern day classic, and possibly the film that provided the most tense debate in terms of placement, as we will get into with the next film.

5. Silence (2016) Despite being one of the most recent Martin Scorsese films, this one’s limited release meant that I missed it during its initial run, and the lack of streaming service placement essentially erased it from my memory. I was certainly intrigued about watching it for this list, and it ended up being the last film viewed. Going into it, it felt like a sort of religious take on Saving Private Ryan, but it didn’t take long for the film to start dealing out much heavier cards in terms of faith, belief systems and cross-cultural contamination. The Last Temptation of Christ showed that Scorsese could find nuance and secular drama from a holy tale, and Kundun showed that he could make a religious icon a relatable human figure struggling to grasp his divine appointment. Silence is the work of a wise, steady hand, however, like some sort of cinematic parable or testament to faith in the face of crippling doubt and danger. Scorsese is certainly still moved by the idea of faith, and he uses Andrew Garfield to display this in some of the most powerful moments that he has ever created or captured for his films. For those who have not seem the film, this placement may feel a bit high, but I would not be surprised if, given time and proper amounts of reflection, it makes its way higher.

4. Raging Bull (1980) The placement of Raging Bull and Cape Fear was the biggest hurdle I was forced to overcome in the creation of this list. Robert De Niro is powerfully captivating in both films, though I would personally give his performance as Max Cady the nod over his embodiment of Jake LaMotta, but when it comes down to the brass tacks of it all, Raging Bull is ultimately the better of the two films. The raw, black and white look of LaMotta’s life already provides a gritty, unflattering portrait of a savage and uncouth man looking for beauty in the world, but that beauty he searches for appears in the boxing sequences with no apologies. The airy look, mainly caught by dynamic slow motion photography, works in tandem with the abrasive first-person views of the combatants, not to mention the direct nature of the combat itself as the viewer is often placed directly in the line of fire. The involvement of the real LaMotta within the film provides a nice button to the superb acting put on display by De Niro, Joe Pesci, Cathy Moriarty and the numerous actors used to portray the opponents of LaMotta.

3. The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) Call it a trope if you like, but it feels like every great (or aspiring) director has a film in them that is driven by religion in some capacity. The Last Temptation of Christ is unique in this sense because it takes the story of the accusations, betrayal, trial and eventual crucifixion of Jesus and turns it into a deeply faith-based suspense thriller. Many of the familiar beats we know from the Bible are re-contextualized as visions, mystic tests of faith, carnal desires driven by lust, and nihilistic views infringing upon deep indoctrination. Willem Dafoe plays a Jesus that is bitter in his acceptance of his fate, Harvey Keitel plays a wonderfully opportunistic Judas, and Barbara Hershey plays a very modernized version of a woman forced to use her body for survival that is suddenly trapped between necessity and passion. The film hinges on the verge of becoming a soap opera without falling into the trappings that come with such high drama, and the walkup to the film’s amazing final sequence puts you in the emotional passenger's seat while Jesus takes the wheel and steers directly into his fate. A dramatically powerful yet brutally sincere take on an iconic, revered and sensitive subject matter.

2. Goodfellas (1990) Is there any original praise left to bestow upon this movie? To focus on the imperfections of this film is an act of futility, as they are mostly non-existent. Some of Martin Scorsese’s best examples of his iconic camera movement, editing techniques, still frames, writing gleaned from personal experience, soundtrack use, loose historical connections and dark humor are found within the confines of Goodfellas. If you’ve seen in actor in any television show or film that had any connection to the mob prior to Goodfellas or since, it is more than likely that that actor was in Goodfellas, even if only briefly. Using Henry Hill as both an outsider and insider perspective is a brilliant narrative stroke, as he can get close to the top, but can never have it all, making him essentially a fly on the wall bursting with charisma and personality. They highs are as epic as the lows are tragic, and for most people, it is the first film that comes to mind when the name Martin Scorsese is mentioned. This could have very easily been the number one film on my list, but anyone who has been visiting this blog with a keen eye for detail probably figured out my favorite Scorsese film the first time they visited the DOOMonFILM blog.

1. Taxi Driver (1976) Since the day that I started this film blog, there has been one image at the top of the page : Travis Bickle in the porn theater (with his face replaced by my logo) from the iconic Taxi Driver. There’s not a single element that I can put my finger on for this film, but there are certainly a number of elements that do speak to me : the isolation that Travis faces, the journal-like narration that drives the story forward, the hypnotic nature of both Bernard Herrmann score and the repetitive taxi cab shots and the vivid camera movements are all burnt firmly into my brain. Everyone that makes up the main cast for this film kills in their performance, and the ending of the film is not only a brutal one, but an ironic one in regards to where Travis lands in the eyes of those who make up the world of the film. Martin Scorsese has made more amazing films than some directors have made, period (amazing or otherwise), but for my money’s worth, none of them are as powerful or well put together as Taxi Driver.

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brownskinsugarplum76 · 4 years

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Writer's Month 2020

Day 31: There was only one bed

I made it! This is the last story for the month. I'm glad I tried the challenge.

This one is long. It's something I've been playing around with for a while. There's a teeny bit of romantic action between the two dudes. ❤️❤️❤️

I should add that the Iggy anecdotes are things that I've read in bio books, or things he's said in interviews.

Forgot to say earlier: thanks @ledbythreads for the sanity check on this. 😁❤️

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They faced each other on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. They were both naked and hot after what had just transpired with Alice, and as neither of them was especially modest, neither of them thought much about it.

"Did you see how Alice made her way to the bathroom? Could barely walk!" Iggy laughed his unnerving cackle. "I've never seen a groupie look so ecstatic when we walked back here. Like she'd just won the fucking lottery."

"Not so loud, Ig! This isn't the bloody locker room." Robert's admonition came in a harsh whisper. "But I am proud of my work. Always am." Robert swept his damp curls out of his face and a beamed with a big Cheshire grin.

"She should be proud of her work, too… Would've sucked my soul out, if I had one to spare." Iggy rolled his eyes backward and opened his mouth wide in an exaggerated dramatization of his climax moments before. "Thanks for inviting me back here with her. Real nice of you to share."

Robert laughed at Iggy's joking, rubber face, but the hilarity faded when he noticed how genuine Iggy's gratitude was, and how intently he was paying attention to Robert all of a sudden. There was still amusement in Iggy's eyes, but Robert swore he saw flirtation in the pouty set of Iggy's lips. He realized he found it hard to take his eyes off the devilish little dynamo at the other side of the bed. That bastard always knew how to court attention, Robert thought, having read about Stooges shows and hearing wild word-of-mouth stories from groupies he and Iggy had in common. Guerrilla tactics, on and off the stage. A pint-sized, silver-haired man-child with a heart full of napalm.

Alice emerged from the bathroom after washing up and threw on her dress. She crawled between Robert and Iggy to kiss them both before leaving to fetch her best friend Fran from the party in Bonzo's room.

Robert lay on his back with his hands behind his head. If Fran was anything like Alice, a breather was in order before round two.

Robert sighed and glanced at Iggy, who was reclining on his side. "How does it feel to be in the big leagues? Raw Power is one hell of a record, mate." After all of Robert's chattering that night about the success of Houses of the Holy, he instantly regretted how arrogant his comment must've sounded to Iggy, who had been making music for roughly as long as Led Zeppelin had been. "Sorry," Robert interjected. "What I, uh, mean to say, Ig--"

"No, I get it, Percy." Iggy saw how much the nickname irked Robert when Bonzo spoke it and decided to twist the knife in Robert a bit.

Iggy had no poker face to speak of. Robert could see the American's thoughts slowly formulating through the movement of his big, blue cartoon eyes. Barely controlled rage pivoting to wily thoughtfulness with whiplash speed. Iggy seemed very lucid tonight, which surprised Robert, who had heard horror stories about Iggy's junkie tendencies through the grapevine. He was getting a sense that an alert Iggy was the truly dangerous Iggy.

Robert didn't know whether he would be scorched by what Iggy was going to say, or if he would be impressed by Iggy stopping himself from leveling a vicious retort. Iggy was not unlike Maureen, Robert thought--petite and fiery. And cute. Iggy's energy was vaguely familiar. The thought surprised Robert but also made him smile.

"We had to get dropped before we could perform the fucking album more than once, but yeah, we are getting bigger audiences now, thanks to Bowie's aura around the project. But we've always had a tight, rabid group of fans who really get it. The money isn't much, since the label tossed us out on our asses, but there are a few more people in the audience to catch me."

"You're a lunatic, with that stage diving." Robert caught himself breathing a sigh of relief. Iggy was reflective. Not in the mood to spar verbally.

"What? Too afraid to bust up your pretty face, Perce?"

Robert inhaled with irritation. His face flushed. He couldn't pinpoint why Iggy was getting under his skin. He'd been treated worse by the press. Much worse.

"I just don't have it in me," Robert finally said. "Plus, I'm bigger than you, and I think I could hurt someone. Or, I might come back to the stage naked, once all the birds get their hands on me."

"You'd love it. Admit it, man."

"Maybe I would, Iggy… But I'll leave you to it."

In the silent pause, Iggy swept his gaze over Robert's face again. Iggy admired the masculine set of Robert's jawline, at odds with his feline eyes and the curlicued cloud of his hair. Robert was more attractive than The Stooges' cutest roadies, and Iggy adored his roadies. Robert was a finely sculpted man who seduced everyone with very subtle androgyny. Robert's pretty hippie god look was a far cry from Iggy's battle-scarred demon persona of eyeliner and dark lips. Nevertheless, Iggy reveled in all the boys and girls wanting him. He loved blurring the lines of the expected. It was his ace, shoving people off kilter with his performance. If he straddled a man's lap and sang in his face, or kissed an unexpecting girl in the audience, all eyes would be on him. Hate or love his performance, they would be telling all their friends about it. It never failed.

By the way Robert looked at him, Iggy knew that even Robert found him to be an intriguing novelty. He smirked at the larger man, who smiled at Iggy quizzically.

Iggy wondered if Robert knew what he was doing with his look. But Robert was a god to his fans and had nothing to explain or prove to anyone.

Iggy couldn't lie to himself; he wasn't on that level. He was the sideshow for a loud, primitive band that always performed at the brink of chaos. He would be the scrappy little underdog until the day he died. Nothing came easy. He had to do the dirty work to get what he wanted.

Iggy watched Robert's chest rise and fall with his breath and imagined that it felt just as solid as Iggy's own musculature. Robert was a total package, just like Iggy had heard. Beautiful inside as much as outside. Iggy remembered the dreamy look in Sable's eyes when he saw her on the street and mentioned he'd be coming to the Riot House, as they called it. She'd asked Iggy to say hi to Robert for her. She was on to the next thing, only had eyes for Johnny Thunders these days.

Iggy started to wonder if Robert was someone he wanted, if Robert himself might be interested in exploring that kind of connection. Iggy was not turned off by the idea, no matter how much he protested about any hint of interest in men to anyone who'd listen. But he knew he'd have to be the one to make it happen with Robert. And that was always something he wrestled with.

David and Lou had no qualms about men, but Iggy hadn't truly shaken free from Midwestern ethics. It was like the time Iggy lived with Leee. It was two boys who grew up far from the coasts of America who couldn't act on their feelings, even when Iggy's robe was open and his large cock was on display. Leee was into boys, but as much as Iggy tried to entice him, nothing ever came of it. Iggy couldn't bring himself to go for Leee. Neither man ever spoke about it. Iggy had been paralyzed by his thoughts. Lee? Maybe he just wasn't sure if Iggy was sure. Iggy had broken free from society in many ways, but not this one. He sighed in frustration.

Robert noticed that Iggy's mood had shifted again, that he was lost in his thoughts, and not happy thoughts, it seemed. For all of Iggy's maniacal bravado, Robert realized that his fellow front man wasn't a savage to the core. It put Iggy in a new light in Robert's eyes.

Not that it made Robert think Iggy was delicate or weak. The ripples and etchings of wiry muscles on Iggy's body proved how strong he was, as did how he had clawed his way to a new record deal after his band had been left for dead a few years before.

Robert and Iggy weren't friends, having just met that night, but they sat by the balcony in the Hyatt suite and had a nice, long conversation over drinks, joints, and stories of the stage.

Iggy, Robert was pleased to find out, had more layers than the press ever attributed to him. Iggy was as well read as Robert and had even broader music taste than his British counterpart. It was refreshing for Robert to have a lively artistic conversation with someone who wasn't Jimmy.

Something was shifting between Robert and Iggy. Robert kind of hoped that Alice and Fran would be delayed for a while, even though he was unsure of how he wanted to fill that time with Iggy.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ig."

"Oh…" Iggy swallowed and blinked his eyes. He'd been caught. What the hell, he thought.

"Uh, Robert …"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever… Done anything with a guy?"

"Haven't had the pleasure, Iggy. You?"

"Closest I've come, I told this creep he could lick my stomach when he asked to suck my dick. And some boys in San Francisco? They, uh, have a fan club for me. Met with them a few times. Touchy-feely motherfuckers. I don't go to sleep around them."

Iggy seemed somewhat ashamed. Robert could understand. Jonesy was convinced that Robert was too provincial, too old fashioned to accept or even acknowledge the male attention he garnered. Maybe the Midlands and Midwest weren't all that different, Robert mused. Iggy may have had more exposure to men who wanted him, but he seemed just as uncomfortable with that kind of attention.

But Robert guessed Iggy, too, was willing to bend the rules a little tonight. Good company and good drugs would do that to anyone.

Both men were lost in their thoughts. The silence was painful. It had become a game of chicken.

"Aw, fuck this." Iggy broke first. He scooted closer to Robert, rested a hand on the larger man's shoulder, and pressed his lips to Robert's. For a few tense seconds it was like both notoriously sexy men forgot how to kiss. Iggy additionally feared getting tossed from the bed by Robert. But then, everything clicked. It was like the first number of an electrifying concert. Both men knew the rush that came from singing the first few bars of a song, the sweet release of all the nervous energy that built while the band played the intro, and the passion that must be doled out with the first notes to hook the audience's attention for the night. Their kiss was exactly the same.

Robert nestled a hand on Iggy's back. Iggy's tongue was exquisitely adventurous. But not aggressive. It was the exact opposite of Iggy's stage persona: tender and unhurried. It was as good as any groupie Robert had ever encountered. Robert got the feeling that Iggy had a surprising number of facets that most would never see. Robert felt honored to get a true glimpse of the man.

Iggy glided his hand into Robert's curls. The American was enjoying himself. He realized it was no big deal after all. He briefly thought of telling David afterward, to see the surprise and envy on his face. Robert. Fucking. Plant! But Iggy would never tell a soul, out of respect for Robert and this moment. And he knew Robert wouldn't breathe a word of it, either.

Robert caressed Iggy's back, causing the smaller man to purr contentedly. The taste of Robert's tongue was the taste of freedom that he'd always craved.

The door opened, and Alice and Fran barged in. Iggy and Robert continued kissing. They'd surprised themselves by not jerking away from each other.

"Oh, my God, that's so hot!" The men heard a new voice. Fran. "They couldn't even wait for us!"

The two women took the scene as their cue and climbed on the bed, choosing a man to play with, separating the embrace.

Robert winked at Iggy, and Iggy nodded his head in response. It was fun while it lasted.

#robert plant #Iggy pop #classic rock #writersmonth2020

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hotwifeexplained · 4 years

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Hotwife Explained

Ladies: has your boyfriend, fiance, or husband ever talked dirty to you about flirting with other men?

Has he teased you about getting sex from other guys?

Has he told you that he likes the thought of you being with another man?

Does he ask you about your sex life with old boyfriends?

If so, it might be that your husband is a cuckold.

In this article, we’re going to give you a quick introduction to what that means, what you can do about it… and why you might enjoy it more than you think.

If this is all new to you, don’t worry. We’ll break down your husband or boyfriend’s kink, give it a little context, and help you try to make sense of what he’s asking of you.

Many women hear this request, with no warning, and have one of two responses.

You get suspicious. There’s no way you heard him right. He wants me to sleep with other guys while he stays committed? Uh-uh. There’s got to be a catch.

You get upset. Sleep with other guys? Are you out of your mind? I’m not a slut. What you’re asking is disgusting. I’m not like that.

These are perfectly understandable reactions. After all, you couldn’t imagine yourself wanting to see him with another girl, right? So how could he expect it from you, with no strings attached? It’s too good to be true, right?

When your man tells you his secret fantasy, there’s some things that you need to know about the male sex drive.

The first thing: Take a breath and relax

If he’s mentioned this kinky fantasy to you, or if you suspect he’s angling for it, it’s not the end of the world.

Here’s what he’s not trying to do:

He’s not looking to have an affair for himself.

He doesn’t want a “hall pass” to get with another girl.

He’s definitely not trying to break up your relationship.

You might think it’s a weird fantasy to have or even find it a disgusting turn off.

Whatever your own response, you can rest assured that he’s being 100% serious.

He wants exactly what he tells you he wants. He gets off imagining you hooking up with other men.

There are reasons for this cuckolding fantasy, which we don’t need to get into here. Some people think that evolution programmed men to find sexual enjoyment in promiscuous women.

Others think it’s a psychological defense mechanism to guard against cheating, or a learned response to past unfaithful girlfriends. Her cheating can’t hurt you if you’re getting off on it, right?

However you shake it out, a lot of men find sexual pleasures in the idea of their wives and girlfriends being sexual with other men. We’re talking well over half of men who would be “down” for their special lady getting frisky if the circumstances were right.

Which means that he’s not looking to bail on you with another girl.

He doesn’t find you unsatisfying.

If anything it’s just the opposite: he’s so into you that he’s deriving his sexual pleasure from you and you alone.

In his mind, he’s adoring you. He’s putting your pleasure above his own.

The female mind doesn’t work this way with sex.

Women are more prone to get with one guy and commit everything to him.

Her physical desire is much more strongly connected to her feelings for the person, compared to men.

Which means, when he tells you that he wants you to sleep around, it’s like showing a stop sign to a color blind person.

You don’t experience sexual attraction this way, so you just don’t get it.

No wonder you’re suspicious or angry or both.

Meanwhile, your cuckold husband believes he’s allowing you the ultimate sexual gift — the freedom to have sex with any man you desire.

You might wonder what he gets out of the deal. That depends.

What kind of cuck is he? The difference between swingers, hotwives, and cuckolds

There are different versions of the wife sharing fantasy. You can read more about that here: What’s the difference between a swinger, a cuckold, and a stag husband?

Until recently most people knew this as swinging or an open marriage.

Swingers swap spouses with other couples.

Open marriages give each partner a free pass for casual sex with others.

Cuckolding is different. Only the wife or girlfriend has sex outside of the relationship, while the husband or boyfriend stays monogamous.

And this is his idea.

As bizarre as it sounds, far more men are into this than women.

Within cuckolding you have several different types of fantasy.

The traditional cuckold is a man whose wife is unfaithful to him while he’s unaware of it.

There’s still an element of this going on in cuckold relationships where the female motive is dominant. She takes control as the dominant partner and gets with other men while her husband is reluctant, hesitant, or (more likely) a submissive partner.

This can get weird because the dynamic doesn’t always work. Instead what usually happens is that the cuck husband imagines this playing out, even though his wife is shy, reluctant, submissive or conservative.

You’ve got two people who are sexually submissive to each other.

This may be one of the major drivers of the cuckold fantasy. The wannabe-cuck wishes she would be more sexual for any reason, even if that means hooking up with other guys.

The cuckold craves the humiliation, the angst, and the submissive role. He wants his wife, and maybe her lover (called a bull), to take charge, boss him around, and treat him like dirt. Small penis fantasies and male chastity are part of this.

A lot of what you find however are couples who approach cuckolding as equal partners.

In this case, the unfaithful wife is called a hotwife. Hotwives date with their husband’s enthusiastic consent and limited participation.

If cuckolding is motivated by the woman, the hotwife fantasy is motivated by masculine energy.

A cuckold’s wife (called a cuckoldress) also dates with her husband’s knowledge and permission, but the dynamic is different for hotwife couples.

The hotwife’s husband — we can call him a stag for short — experiences sexual pleasure in knowing that his wife has sex with other men.

He’s not interested in the angst and humiliation. He’s there to watch hot sex with the woman he loves most.

He wants his wife to be his real-life porn star.

We can talk about stag and vixen relationships to distinguish this hotwife dynamic from plain cuckolding.

You can think of cuckolding in all forms as a kind of BDSM play.

Domination by your wife, and the ‘hurts so good’ thrill and pain of a cheating partner makes for a healthy brew of Dom/sub and Masochist energy.

Not only that, there’s a lot of crossover with other themes, such as denial of penetration, orgasm denial, full male chastity, and even extreme humiliation like “clean up” duty or being tied up in bondage to watch her have sex.

Men: if this describes you and your female partner isn’t on board, you’d be well advised to stay well away from these extremes before she’s had time to warm up to the ideas.

The extremes can be a big turn off, especially if it’s your first trip to this pool.

Chances are your husband hasn’t gone this far into it, though.

Porn aside, most guys who show signs of cuckold and hotwife curiosity aren’t really into that level of hardcore play.

If your hubby is like most, he’s getting his rocks off imagining you getting down and dirty with another guy, while he’s watching and jerking off — and that’s all he’s into.

The fantasy itself is enough of an earthquake shock to most monogamous partners.

Sex is a big deal in a marriage. Getting it from another partner besides your husband is a big ask.

Save the wild stuff until you’ve made the easy case.

One last thing: The words don’t matter so much.

We use the word “cuckolding” for all this kinky ladies-only sex.

We might be talking about a hotwife or a cuckold or even swingers.

If you want to find out what he’s really into, you’ll have to ask him.

Talk to your husband to get a feel for what he’s down for…

And what you might be comfortable or not so comfortable with.

So your husband is a cuckold. What now?

Many women first hear all about this fantasy and, pardon our Francais, they lose their shit.

How could he? Doesn’t he love me? Aren’t I good enough? I bet he just wants to get with another girl and this is his way out!

The thoughts start racing and a serious conversation becomes impossible.

You must understand one vital thing: Sex is Weird.

What gets people off isn’t what the romance movies and cheesy sitcoms told you.

Everybody’s into weird stuff.

If you stop and think about it, though, it’s not that weird… and it might even be more loving, selfless, and even romantic than you realize.

He wants to watch you.

It might help if you think of his cuckold fantasy as the mirror image of a voyeurism kink.

Many women admit to a thrill from being watched during sex.

Some women go so far as to fantasize about their husbands watching them get fucked by another guy. (Needless to say these women are ideal cuckoldress and hotwife partners for men with this fantasy.)

The male counterpart is called candaulism. You can think of candaulism as the mirror image of the voyeuristic woman.

She wants to be watched and he gets off watching her.

A wife can take comfort knowing that her man is not only loyal to her, he’s not even straying to watch porn. He wants to see your body in action, because he loves you and that’s what brings him pleasure.

Men have evolved to enjoy cheating and sharing.

You may not realize this since so much of the media portrays men as stoic, macho, jealous types who could never think of letting another man touch their special lady.

The truth is that cuckold fantasies, wife-sharing fantasies and hotwifing fantasies are consistently ranked among the top male sexual fantasies.

When neuroscientists Ogi Ogas and Sai Gaddam analyzed the contents of a billion online search terms as research for their 2012 book A Billion Wicked Thoughts, they discovered that “cuckold porn” is second only to “youth” in heterosexual porn searches.

Think what you will but a whole lot of men are at least cuckold-curious even if they can’t admit it in good company.

Sure, he say it’s a “threesome” he wants, but that doesn’t always mean he wants to have two girls at once.

And, ladies, you should know that a good number of guys are thinking about bringing another swinging dick in the room for your pleasure when they bring up the T-word.

Plenty of men find the idea of you enjoying sex with another man an arresting and almost explosive erotic experience.

Especially as men get a little older and the lustful years of the horny teenager leave them behind, the idea of sexually satisfying even one woman can become daunting. Pleasing two women sounds more like work than fun.

That threesome he’s after might be MFM rather than FFM.

He loves you so much that he wants you to experience sex even without him.

If you look at it this way, it’s hard to see the cuckold’s desire as anything less than romantic. He’s in love with you, taking pleasure in your body… he’d rather think about you in action than watch porn.

That’s a hell of a complement, ladies. You’d be so lucky to have a man that loyal to you.

You’re in a relationship with a man who has an unorthodox, but not all that weird, sexual kink… which, unlike many kinks, works entirely in your favor as an attached woman.

If you think that’s an exaggeration, ask your self which scenario you’d prefer?

(A) The option to be ravished by that handsome stud you saw at the gym, with no risk to yourself, no strings, and a loving relationships at home?

(B) The usual bro-fantasy of sharing him with another girl in the typical FFM threesome?

That’s what we thought.

No need to be shy about it. You’re in good company.

Female sexuality also responds to multiple male partners.

The Twilight series, the books and the movies, didn’t get so popular with women by accident.

It turns out that women and men get physically excited and mentally aroused when multiple men desire one woman.

We’re natural-born cuckold fetishists.

For most couples the revelation of a cuckold fantasy doesn’t have to change anything.

This doesn’t mean you have to head out to the nearest pick-up bar and go home with the first guy who buys you a drink.

Please don’t do that.

You need to move slowly, patiently, with lots of conversations about what you want and don’t want, and above all, you need to vet your stunt-cocks.

Porn and erotica (including ours) will show you whirlwind affairs that begin on a whim, never use a condom, and have no consequences.

That’s because this is a fucking hot fantasy and we’d all love it if sex happened this way.

In the real world, you need to be more prudent.

Your cuckold man might be just fine with foreplay pillow-talk and teasing him about flirting with other guys while you give him a slow handjob.

Remember: many fantasies are best left as fantasies. Just because he enjoys the idea doesn’t mean he would really want you to spread your legs for a stranger.

What if we want to play with his cuckolding fantasy?

The first step is always to relax.

Your husband is a cuckold. So what?

It’s not the end of your relationship, and if you’re willing to listen to his needs and communicate your own, you can find a lot of positives for both of you.

If you approach it with an open mind.

That’s the next first step for all of these cases.

If you shut him down…

If you get grumpy or offended…

If you moralize his fantasy…

If you try to explain why he has these feelings instead of listening…

You’re going to cause friction.

The remedy is communication and honesty. Communicate with your husband or boyfriend and try to understand where he’s coming from and what he’s really after.

And you know what else? Ask yourself if you’re really turned off by it… or if you’re saying what you think you’re supposed to say.

There’s a lot of research into female sexual desire which suggests women are far more responsive to promiscuous sex with lots of different men.

Your womanly sexual desire might be stoked by a verboten affair more than you can admit even to yourself.

Again, it comes down to communication, honesty, and trust. If you’re not comfortable expressing what YOU want, neither of you will find satisfaction.

But that’s true for any part of sex.

The main thing?

Have fun with it. It’s sex, with the person closest to you in the world. You’re meant to enjoy it.

Here’s what you can do next.

Move slow. It’s hard to do this when lust is the principle motivator. The thing is, in his mind he’s probably bottled this up for a long time, so he’s going to be aching. Just remember: once you’ve had sex with another man, you can’t un-fuck him. Make sure you’re both okay before you move outside of fantasy-land.

Talk to him. Communication is key, and so many couples never tell each other what they want. If you’re tempted to put your foot down and never talk, then you’re doing far more damage to your relationship than his sexual kink.

Respect his desires and your own boundaries. If you aren’t comfortable with something, then don’t go for it. You’re listening to him, so make sure that you tell him what YOU are and aren’t okay with.

Privacy and safety must come first. Any time you involve another person, you are sharing your most intimate life with them. That can be fun and exciting. It can also have down sides. Take precautions when finding and meeting other men.

One simple, fun, and no-risk way to start out with cuckolding and stag-vixen fantasies is with role play and sex toys.

Get a life-like dildo which is slightly bigger than your husband’s penis and taunt him with it.

Give it a name, like “Diego”.

Tell him you’re fucking Diego tonight, so he has to watch and jerk off.

Tease him about going out to fuck another guy if you go out for after-work drinks.

If you’re ready to step it up a notch, then flirt with other men in public.

Make a date for the two of you in a public space like a bar.

Wear sexy clothes, like a sundress with no panties.

Come on to guys openly, right in front of him.

It’s a good test-run without committing to anything serious. If he can’t handle this part, then he’s not going to handle his wife having sex with someone else.

Cuckolding and Hotwifing FAQ

What is cuckolding?

A form of open relationship defined by consensual female non-monogamy and male monogamy.

The wife gets sex outside of the relationship while the husband stays loyal.

What is hotwifing?

A variation of the cuckold relationship that involves more active participation of the husband in his wife’s exploits.

The term “hotwife” usually distinguishes this kind of play from a cuckold relationship that centers on the husband’s inadequacy and his desire for submission and humiliation.

Hotwife relationships focus more on the sex than the humiliated husband.

Isn’t “wife sharing” a sexist idea?

It could be taken that way.

We believe it’s better to understand the phrase more like sharing water, sharing a home… or sharing a bed… than sharing a piece of property that you own.

Wife sharing is sharing female sexuality in a spirit of pleasure and generosity.

What do couples get out of cuckold & hotwife relationships?

Couples in this lifestyle, or interested in it, find it both intensely erotic and intimate.

It’s not for everyone, but those men and women who do find it arousing enjoy unrivaled sexual enjoyment from her sexual infidelity.

What are the drawbacks of cuckold relationships?

The same as you’d expect from any “cheating” situation.

There’s the possible emotional pain of jealousy, shame, guilt, and fear that she’ll leave with another lover for good.

There’s the physical risk, of pregnancy and STDs, and even potential threats to safety and privacy.

You’re inviting a man you may not know well into your most intimate world… and it goes without saying that employers and the local Bible group may think dimly of your escapades should they come out.

What about stag and vixen couples?

Stag and vixen refer to a cuckolded male — the ‘horns’ of the cuckold — and his cheating wife.

These usually refer to a hotwife and her husband, being easier to say than “hotwife” and “husband of a hotwife”.

How is cuckolding different from swinging?

Swinging used to be called “wife swapping” before the sexist implications of swapping wives became generally frowned on.

Unlike cuckolding and hotwife relationships, swinging involves mutual sharing of both sexual partners between two or more couples.

Swingers allow the men to have sex as well.

Cuckolds & hotwives keep the husband monogamous, either by choice (hotwives) or by submission (cuckolds).

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jq37 · 4 years

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The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 15

Love Wins!

Welcome to an insanely chaotic episode of Fantasy High--even by the very high standards of this show. How chaotic you may ask? Well, the first thing that happens is that Bill Seacaster point blank shoots Gilear to death for being in a relationship with Hilariel. Full dead. He is full dead. Strangely, his plan to bring him back as a janky devil does not do much to comfort Fig. Imagine that.

Bill’s pirates are looting the Bottomless Pit (Gorthalax’s domain in Hell) and Vraz orders Fig to make them stop. When she instead orders Vraz to eat her ass, Vraz nullifies all warlock deals Gorthalax made and brings none other than Johnny Spells (and his greaser pals) to join the fight!

Really, this fight is insane and it’s better served by a highlight real than a play by play so I’m just gonna give you some bullets:

All the PCs rolled super low initiative this fight which really kinda screwed them. Like Fabian was down to 16 HP one point and it was like, “Lol, this is the end of round 1.” YIKES.

A big part of this fight was just surviving long enough to get to the second level of hell and rescue Riz’s dad which I think was probably good for morale because the thought of this fight dragging on for more than a couple of rounds exhausts me.

Fabian rolls off against Johnny right off the bat for the Hangman’s loyalty and Fabian wins with a 25 (and by coming out the gate with the word ENSLAVED which isn’t the word *I* would have used but a 25 is a 25 I guess).

He also has to contend with fighting Allistair who has a massive hole in his head filled with fire from Wicklaw eating his brain. It seems like Chungledown Bim is in hell too based on how Allistair keeps saying he’s gonna get him so he can shit in Fabian’s mouth. Of course, Fabian gets the better of him, but not before he deals out a fair bit of damage.

Adaine uses an Arcane Hand plus her portent roll to just whole-ass throw Johnny off the ship. Like, he gets back up but it’s so funny to instead of fighting an enemy to just throw him off a set piece (see eg: Bloodkeep ep2).

Kristen Revivifies Gilear and Bill, the mercurial sunuvabitch is like, “We love the same woman! I just want her happy!” and gives him a gun. Kristen immediately is like, “Bro, you need to hide,” and Gorgug protects him while he does so (in a sarcophagus that has a 50/50 shot of being launched as ammo).

Penelope shows up to the fight, eyes all black, wearing a shredded prom dress, and with shards of silver embedded in her forehead like a crown. Dayne and Daybreak also join the fight as messed up Harvestmen! It’s a veritable Smash Bros lineup of people the Bad Kids have killed!

Adaine and Fabian are christened the “Posh Squad” which is important to me, not to the fight.

Adaine gets to counterspell a counterspell from Penelope, one of the sexiest things you can do in D&D.

Fabian declares toxic masculinity dead. Shortly afterward, he makes Brennan eat a die when Daybreak tries to Frighten Fabian, a condition he is immune to due to his eyepatch I gather based on the table reaction.

Daybreak’s punishment in hell is a complete lack of self-awareness of why he’s there. He still thinks he should be sipping Mai-Tai’s in corn heaven with Helio while Kristen and Ragh are attacking him with gay spit (their words, not mine). Gay spit and, also, a ton of radiant and thunder damage.

Ragh gets some emotional catharsis by getting to body Dayne before Gorgug decapitates him. Very important step in the stages of grief. Decapitating the source of said grief.

Penelope gets Sparta-kicked off the edge of the boat by Fabian after Ayda dispels her protective globe and Riz shoots Daybreak again for old times sake. Unfortunately, Penelope Misty Steps back up and Daybreak is hurt but not killed. Ayda does a cool Dr. Strange teleportation thing and does a bunch of damage to both of them. Fabian finishes off Penelope with a sheet/sword combo and between Booming Blade and a Psionic Blast (does she have this ability as a Bard or as a Warlock? Relatedly, when she felt something leave her was that her Warlock deal being nullified or was she feeling the deals leave her since she is sort of the temporary Gorthalax?) Fig destroys Daybreak. Johnny just falls off the ship with no PC intervention because he sucks.

Bill also falls off the ship but Fig (with an assist from Gorgug) saves him and steals a scroll from Vraz on the way back up. By the by, earlier in the fight, she also had Baby Invisbly steal a random item from her.

Anyway, as they reach the end of the end of the fight, Bill loads Riz into a canon (!) and shoots him into the city, hopefully towards his dad (to the distress of his party). He crashes through the window in a familiar looking building and, when he finds a hallway that he’s pretty sure leads to his dad, he goes towards it.

He sees a familiar light coming out of a doorway (the interrogation room light) and a doorway next to it that is slightly open with steel thrones in it. There’s a two-way mirror between the two rooms and if he goes into the open one, he can see who is in with his dad. After checking for illusions and finding none, he stealthily walks in and sees, in the other room, his dad with a hulking pit fiend (30 ft tall, winged, almost dragon-y devil).

The pit fiend is questioning Pok about any regrets he had in life and Pok answers very uncharacteristically from the man we saw in the video saying he had nothing but high hopes for baby Riz. He says he had no regrets, his job was just a job, and that he only had a kid because Sklonda wanted one before going into a snarling goblin rage. The pit fiend smiles at that and says that Pok has promise so they won’t create a lemure out of him (a lemure is a weak, blobby devil). Two devils in the room with them whip him unconscious and then leave the room to go send more people to deal with Bill.

Riz Misty Steps into the room and does a self-imposed Wisdom check to steady himself after what he just heard--Nat 20 baby. Then, he opens his Briefcase of Holding, ready to scoop his dad into it when, the two lesser devils open the door and catch him in the act. But Riz persists in the scooping. They try to grapple him and he rolls a Nat 1 to avoid it. He *still* tries to get him dad. But then he notices, his gun is missing.

BLAM. The devils heads are blown clean off. He turns and he sees his dad has taken the gun--his gun originally--and shot the devils. Pok, who is amazed that Riz is there and no longer feigning apathy for the situation asks for an extraction into an earpiece, causing a halo to appear over his head and a beam of holy light to come down like a tractor beam.

“Wait,” says Riz. “You’re an undercover angel?”

“You got it, kid.”

Murph goes feral. The table goes feral. I go feral. What a way to end an episode!

And now for an all-Dad round of superlatives:

Detention

Bill Seacaster for KILLING GILEAR

I feel like I shouldn’t have to explain myself here.

Honor Roll

Pok Gukgak for Officially Joining the Fantasy Fathers of the Year Club

Here either.

I will, however, add a Hell Yeah!

Random Thoughts

If you haven’t seen it yet, the trailer for S5 of Dimension 20 just dropped and I won’t spoil it but, from the looks of it, it is gonna be a doozy.

“Do not metagame with my freaking Dad!” Oh to have the support of an NPC Emily Axford has decided to imprint upon.

Gorgug: It’s been one year. We’re sophomores.

“We support you as a DM and as your friend but also you’re our enemy.”

I think it’s very interesting that with just a little space and time from his dad, Fabian is finally having the proper reactions to his dad doing what I will charitably call shenanigans.

The level of distress and outrage from Emily when Gilear got shot was just *chef’s kiss*. I aspire to create an NPC that provokes that level of reaction from one of my players. Similar energy in a different direction from Ally when Daybreak attacked Tracker.

“Adaine, the jocks are being feisty! Get out of there!”

Vraz calls Fig “the Faithless” as her devil title and she insists on instead being called, “the InFaethable”. I wanna know how long Emily’s been sitting on that one or whether she came up with it on the spot.

Fabian upon seeing Johnny: Fuck off dude. I have too much going on right now.

Brennan being the eternal DM mood: How do I get out of this?

Very wild how little time has passed since Leviathan. Like, Fabian’s had this whole arc and grown so much but, like, OF COURSE Allistair still wants to murder him! It’s been like two days.

“I want to crumple up Gilear like a wrapper.”

A seven is a Murph 10.

The very specific way Brennan does foley for sword fighting (“Clang! Cling! Clang!”) is so funny to me.

Cannot overstate how much of a power move it was for Kristen to go, “I’ve been PRAYING FOR YOU,” at Daybreak and knock him on his ass.

I feel like I bring this up all the time but I love when Brennan is counting dice for a ton of damage and all the PCs are BSing reasons that it’s not a big deal like, “He’s just getting D4s,” or “Well I should get advantage for the reason just made up,” with everyone else fully playing along. ”

Allistair Ash, man. He is fascinating to me. I am so curious about what Brennan had planned for him originally because I feel like we barely scratched the surface before things took a TURN. He had two little moments in this ep that made my heart break for him a little: (1) When he says to Fabian, “If I die, I just come back a little bit worse but, if you die, you’re stuck down here with me.” and (2) when Fabian kills him and Bill grabs his soul and is like, “You know it’s gonna cost you X gold to revive you,” and he sighs and says, “Put it on my tab I suppose.” Like, I know he spent all ep trying to kill Fabian but I can’t help but be like, poor guy. He just has this pathos in his haplessness. I’m surprised Fabian didn’t make more of an effort to connect with him instead of being like, kind of like, “I will throw hands if I must.” Talking is a free action my dude. Anyway, I would love to see Brennan’s DM notes for this guy.

Lou was really doing some expert D&D with all the second winding and bonus actioning and burning spell slots for extra damage he was doing. He was like, “My initiative is trash so I have to do approximately a million damage per turn.”

Lol at Ayda asking if it’s weird to talk about sex stuff in front of friends in a group that involves both Kristen and Adaine.

Fig wishing she could do something cool in front of Ayda as if Ayda didn’t try to flood Hell on her behalf last week. My girl. You’ve already locked that down.

Not really an issue that’s we’ll run across during the run of FH but tieflings live 20-40 years longer than humans according to the official D&D lore. So lets say Fig lives to be 120 years old. And let’s say she sticks with her high school girlfriend and marries her. It’s possible they die at around the same time and then Ayda has to Deal With That in her next life but that’s not what I’m interested in. What happens if you’re a full elderly woman and your partner phoenixes into a child? What are the ethics of that? How do you deal with that? Chronomancy?

The horrified, “Love wins!” from Daybreak.

Is there a reason the viewing room Riz was in had thrones in it or is Hell just very about the ~aesthetic~

Every time a DM asks for a HP total, my entire being clenches in prep for a Power Word Kill.

“I’m gonna need a Dexter--”/”Counterspell.”

“You guys murdered me too but we hashed it out.”

I totally forgot that the Bad Kids lied that Ragh had shat his pants until the moment Adaine was saying it this episode. Freshman Year was WILD.

Also, just wanna take a second to talk about the elevation of Ragh from this side-note bully to a fully fledged, likeable character with depth and and an arc and gay spit. D&D is crazy.

Summoning Boggy via Bloody Mary is such a delightful image.

So, Kalina is the one that led Riz down the path that led to him finding out Pok is an Undercover Angel (!!!), which means one of three things: (1) She knew but miscalculated hard, (2) she didn’t know and made a different but also big miscalculation, (3) she did know and she’s doing some kind of 4-D chess thing we don’t know about yet.

Ayda hitting Fabian with a portent and then swooping in and saving Adaine. So clutch. What a good NPC to befriend.

Speaking of, I think we all kinda figured, but Brennan officially said on Twitter or the Discord (I don’t remember which) that Ayda is autistic. Like, I was pretty sure but I didn’t wanna assume.

Lol at the absolute lack of respect Kalvaxus got in this episode.

Pok as an Undercover Angel is SO GOOD. Like, I didn’t think he was really bad for a second but I never could have guessed he was an UNDERCOVER ANGEL. That’s such a dope combination of words. Undercover Angel (which my computer keeps trying to correct to undercover agent which isn’t wrong to be fair). Man. I love this. I love this for me and I love this for Riz. Riz deserves this. After so much crap in his life and so many mind games from Kalina and all this turmoil, he deserves to know that not only is his dad a good person who loved/loves him, he’s SO good that he’s an ANGEL and he was such a good spy in life he still is a secret agent in death. God, what a reveal. I can’t believe Riz got Spy Kids-ed TWICE by the same parent. Can’t wait to hear what exactly is going on with him.

Wait, what’s goblin heaven like? Which god is sanctioning this? Who is he working for exactly?

This episode, Kristen and Gorgug rolled 1 Nat 20 each, while Riz, Fabian, and Brennan each got 2. On the flipside, Adaine got 2 Nat 1’s, Fig and Fabian each rolled 1 that was cancelled, and Riz rolled 1 (in addition, Murph rolled two more which were lair actions and one of which was cancelled by a luck point so they don’t really count but it was very funny so I wanted to note it).

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #wow a recap that isn't a million pages for once #turns out I can do it

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lihikainanea · 4 years

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Vibe of the Week 09/08

First of all, step aside Bill, because you’re not the most important Leo in my life.

A big, huge, resounding happy birthday to the King of my family--my old man. He’s the greatest dude I know. He can fix seriously anything, he has guided me my whole life, he’s a phenomenal story teller and he’s just....he’s the best guy I know. I have high standards in men because my dad has loved my mom so intensely for their entire marriage (44 years and counting), and he still does. He buys her flowers. He writes her songs. They have date nights every week.

August, and particularly the first 10 days in August, are so weird for me. I have so much history and it’s all in sequence--a past love, his birthday was August 7. Bill’s is the 9th. Pop’s is the 10th. There’s more but it’s just...man, that Leo energy. It exhausts me.

Last week we talked a bit about embracing the change that’s coming, starting to reap the harvest for our efforts. The universe gave us a bit of a break.

This week’s Oracle deck is the Shaman Wisdom Cards, and the Tarot is the Llewellyn Wizards Tarot deck (which like, look, I love these cards--but I cannot even express how much I HATE the design on the back. It is so fucking obnoxious. Why would you design something that bright for these cards? Ugh I hate it.)

The Oracle card this week is Agate:

The affirmation: Adapt to the situation and communicate your intentions

Words to meditate on: Courage, brave, recognition, abundance, growth, balance

This is quite a lovely card. It’s the striking of the match--something is being lit up here, and you’re about to be stimulated in a million different ways--love, relationships, creativity. Something here is lighting your interest, and there’s a lovely sense of rejuvenation. The cards are not kicking our ass anymore this week (thank you, cards). This card speaks of collaboration, of group work, of fulfillment, a sense of community. Deeper than that, a loss of individual self (the good kind), where the “I” becomes the “we” and we’re all stronger for it. Fortifying your group, man. WHERE MY BITCHES AT.

For the Tarot this week, I did a Celtic cross spread just for something different. Also, I am so determined to master a riffle shuffle which I cannot do to save my life. I’m awful at it.

Anyway:

1) Page of Wands

2) Seven of Pentacles

3) Ten of Wands

4) King of Pentacles

5) King of Swords

6) King of Cups

7) Six of Cups

8) Queen of Cups

9) Eight of Cups

10) Eight of Wands

Overarching theme: The Empress (Major Arcana)

Okay so look, a few things here. First of all, as far as spreads go, you can’t get more meh than this.

Second of all, I get bummed when I don’t see a Major in a spread but I had forgotten to pull the overarching theme card and when I did, MY GIRL THE EMPRESS answering my call.

Interesting that last week, we also had a Major Arcana as the overarching theme (The Hanged Man). You know what other Major appeared last week?

My girl’s boo, the Emperor.

Now, third and final point before we dive in: Christ on a cracker, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS OVERABUNDANCE OF MASCULINE ENERGY? My god, Leo season is just...it’s just so...Leo. My dudes, tuck it back in. Stop trying to pee on everything and stake your claim to it. It’s gonna be okay, guys. No need to be all alpha male about everything.

Alright here we go, buckle the fuck up because....ugh, Leo.

First impressions: All of the Suits represented in near perfect balance, which could mean harmony or like...a fucking battle. We’ll see.

The Empress - overarching theme

My badass bish. Abundance. Nourishment, but of the soul kind. A burst of creativity and passion, a rejuvenation in life.

1) Page of Wands - the situation right now

A willingness to learn. Something is exciting you here, some new prospect that has you wanting to absorb everything you can and act on it, but a bit of ego and lack of confidence might be holding you back. You’re stuck on yourself, not letting yourself move forward.

2) Seven of Pentacles-- the conflict

Getting in your own way is alright sometimes, because you’re evaluating. You’re laying out all your options, reflecting on it. What strikes me here is you’re weighing value in some capacity--like, is it worth it to pursue this? Because whatever it is, it seems to come at a high enough cost (actual, or figurative) to have you taking a step back. And this is actually quite remarkable, because in Leo season we’re all just fucking roaring and ready to jump head first into anything--but not this. Not here and not now. There’s such careful deliberation, and that’s okay.

3) Ten of Wands - the atmosphere around the situation

Burdens, obligations, responsibilities. Just because we want something very badly doesn’t mean it’s going to work out for us--previous obligations and responsibilities, our role in our lives and the lives of others--these are very real things which make our wants and dreams not a possibility in our immediate future. Sometimes the timing is just bad.

It also...it also looks a bit like you’ve been burned here before. You know this tale. It ended differently for you last time. You wanted something, were passionate about something, went after it with everything you had (like you’re supposed to) and man did you fall on your face. Hard enough that it stayed with you, that feeling stayed with you.

4) King of Pentacles - the base of the matter, what is really behind the drive

balanced, practical, cautious, generous. My boo, you want stability. You are chasing something so hard because it will bring you stability, reassurance, in a way that you need and in a way that you haven’t felt in a long time.

5) King of Swords - past influences

Oh bubs, somebody done you wrong. You thought you had what you needed before--and god again I’m a little taken aback at how masculine this reading is, boys are so dumb--somebody tricked you. Somebody knew what you needed, what you craved--authority, stability, communication, logic. A manipulator roped you in knowing that you needed all those things, and they provided them to you--for a short while, and on a superficial level. But you were so desperate for what you needed, that you took it.

And it burned you. So now, you’re focusing this fight internally--you are out here like a Queen, trying to be this force for you. YAAAAAAS.

6) King of Cups - forthcoming influences

You’re getting there, boo. Whether or not this is someone who Is going to enter your life, or if this is just you coming into your own....I’m not sure. The cards ain’t telling me. But it is showing me that the forthcoming influence is BALANCE, and channeling that masculine energy. The energy of being assertive but not rude, the energy of balancing emotional needs with rational thought, just...balance balance balance. Evenness. Kindness.

Finding ways to give your heart what it needs, while also leaving space for responsibility, rational thought, and growth boo. GROWTH.

And like, I am most definitely not one of those people like “love is coming to you” but like....babe it kinda looks like it is?

It doesn’t have to be a dude if you don’t bat for that team. It could be somebody who embodies all of the best characteristics and traits that we deem masculine.

7) Six of Cups-- in the “bitch where the fuck am I” position

You’re back refocused on the little things that matter. If we’re talking romantically, think of how like....a huge weekend getaway to a private vineyard somewhere in the countryside that took a lot of planning and is just this wild gesture of passionate love--that’s sweet, right? That feels nice.

But a small note on the coffee machine when you wake up, that says “You’re going to do great today, I love you” referencing a meeting that you mentioned to your significant like a week ago and said you were nervous for it. That...man, it’s the little things.

Right now, you’re coming back to centre. You’re reeling your scope back in, and you’re determining what really matters to you.

But there’s also a bit of caution here, in those small gestures--small gestures can alter our future in literally every single way. Be mindful of your actions, and their impact. Don’t be haunted by your past, but also...kid, don’t be nostalgic for it. This is so not the time.

8) Queen of Cups - the view of others

Ohhhh isn’t this a trick. Ha, lookit that Queen. This is how others view you, bubs. As this powerhouse badass woman who is in complete control at all times, reserved yet cut throat, elegant yet deadly. People view you as a person of envy, someone who always seems to have it all together.

9) Eight of Cups - hopes and fears

You’re worried that this quest or this search you’re on, this need to feel something in your past but in a much better, more fulfilling way....you’re worried it doesn’t exist. You’re worried that what you seek isn’t actually out there. You hope it is--but there’s enough doubt in you (hello! Get the fuck back there, past experiences and stay the fuck there!) that you’re terrified.

Your journey can’t be explained logically. And this is that fucking Leo sun shit, you know? If it ain’t logical or practical, then it either 1) doesn’t exist, and/or 2) you shouldn’t go anywhere near it.

Fuck that Leo side of everything.

What you seek is out there. It is not rational, but it doesn’t have to be rational to be real. The heart has reasons that even REASON doesn’t understand.

What you seek is out there, and it’s yours to find. Go.

10) Eight of Wands - Potential outcome

Listen, I love this idea of serendipity. Of self fulfilling prophecies. Because this card...mmm, what a phenomenal card to end on.

The very fact that you are out there and that you had the courage to seek this out, means that 1) it exists, and 2) that you will find it.

You taking the action of following your heart is going to set into motion a whole series of karmic reactions that you will also need on your journey. This card is travel, it’s communication, it’s a satisfying journey, it’s the jackpot. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, you keep following that heart of yours, and result will be what you expect it to be.

tl;dr: fuck this Leo energy. You do you boo, stay gentle.

#tarot

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pleasantnerdwobblerkid · 4 years

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IF YOU CHOOSE TO LOVE AN AWAKE WOMAN ...

If you decide to Love an awakened woman, understand that you are entering new, radical and challenging territory.

If you decide to Love an awake woman, you cannot fall asleep.

If you decide to love an awakened woman, every part of your soul will be awakened, not only your sexual organs but even your heart.

Frankly, if you prefer a normal life, stick with a normal girl.

If you want a docile life, just look for a woman who has allowed herself to be tamed.

If you just want to dip your toe into the flowing waters of Shakti, stay with the confident, tame woman who has not yet plunged into the wildness of the Sacred Feminine ocean.

It is comfortable to love a woman who has not yet activated her inner sacred powers, because she does not push your buttons.

She won't test you.

She does not pressure you to become your highest Self.

She won't wake up the forgotten and numb parts of your

Spirit urging you to remember that there is more to your life here than this.

She is not going to look into your tired eyes and send a beam of Truth through your body, shaking you awake and stirring your long-lost desires for the Love of Souls within you.

A sleeping woman is sure to be wonderfully satisfying and relaxing for your ego, heart, and body. She will walk silently next to you and make you feel needy, responsible, like you are fulfilling your masculine role.

If this is enough for you, then accept it, Love her with all your heart, stay true to her and thank her every day for the gift of her mild, non-threatening feminine presence in your life.

If this is not enough for you - if your heart, body and spirit are only yearning for the "other kind of woman". That savage - then you must know that you are on the cusp of soul transformation ..

If you decide to enter the aura and body of a woman whose spiritual fire is burning, you are accepting that you need a certain level of danger and risk in order to grow.

Once you begin to Love a woman of this nature, you must accept full responsibility for the life changes that would later follow.

Your life will not be comfortably sleepy all the time. Your life is not going to allow you to get stuck in old ruts and stagnant routines.

Your life will take on a radically new flavor and aroma. You will be ignited by the presence of the wild feminine, and it will begin to send electric shock waves of spiritual light through your entire chakra system, which will tune you into the call of Divinity.

Choosing to be sexually and romantically intimate with an awakened woman takes masculine courage to walk without fear of the unknown. But you are going to reap rewards beyond your mind's understanding.

She will take you to unknown worlds of mystery and magic.

She will lead you, hypnotized and half drunk on Love, into the wild woods of sensual ecstasy and wonder.

She will show you sacred skies so full and burning with stars that you will start to wonder if you are still living on the same planet you were born on.

She is going to break and tear you so that your fierce, passionate heart drives you half mad with desire. You will have to consume it and penetrate it on all levels so that your masculine essence can consume and penetrate the world - illuminate the universe with your devoted Love.

She will see you as you have never been seen before.

She will trust you.

She will appreciate you.

She will acknowledge your efforts to make her happy.

She will value all the good you do, and all the good you are.

She is not going to escape your darkness, because your darkness does not scare her.

She is going to hug you, kiss you, caress you and Love you back to life.

She will speak words that your soul understands. She won't punish you for your mistakes.

It is a monumental risk Loving an awake woman, because there is suddenly no place to hide.

She sees everything, therefore she can Love You with a depth and presence that your heart and body have yearned for so hard, for so long, so fiercely ... that you wonder if you have really been alive for as long as you have been. outside.

Loving a woman like this is an option that you choose to start living with your soul on fire.

Your life will never be the same again once you have invited their energy into you.

Take this risk on yourself, or take a step back, stay with the normal girl and accept a safe, different, more comfortable and somewhat calmer life.

Just make sure that if you choose the latter, you don't spend the rest of your days with your eyes looking back over your shoulder, trying to once again see the blurred vision of the Feminine Mystery that has now disappeared from your sight.

She is long gone, back to the stars, distant galaxies and the skies ... from where she came.

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emsartwork · 5 years

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1. Aterix is my fan transformation based on the third gift of destiny in season 4! like it never made sense to me that the gift of wisdom gives you sophix, the gift of heart gives you lovix, but the “black gift” is used more like a magic object on someone else as opposed to increasing a persons magic in a specific way??? I’ll be designing and explaining more about those soon @mariloki4 2. The faunix designs are here, and i haven’t done their animals designs yet! 3. So in my version, guardian fairy is more of a title given to alfea enchantix graduates, they don’t really have any responsibilities to their planet or anything lol @elf-from-the-ashes 4. hoo boy, like just from scratch visually with the plot the same??? probably not too different from what i draw now since i like to have the characters all look different, but again, if i have no starting point to jump off from i have no idea what decisions i would end up making haha 5. Thank you! and yes! I am planning on getting to world of winx and the season extras soon here. 6. lol right?? every transformation i try to do seomthign different with tecna’s hair cus she deserves it but sometimes its hard (also i am ALWAYS tempted to just cut the other girls’ hair like YOU get a pixie cut and YOU get a pixie cut EVERYBODY’S getting a pixie cut) @theoretical-artist 7. I drew daphne and diaspro here! i am gonna take another stab at diaspro soon tho, i don’t like what i did before 8. I don’t know that i have one? like whatever one im currently watching i get used to the voices eventually. Musa’s voice change in season 3 (idk which dub) is the only one that consistently bothers me 9. Sure! the hair color change is because i was trying to make her look less like a terrible clip art witch on crappy halloween decor lol. here are some other hcs! She likes to knit. She has sensitive skin and breaks out easily. She regrets what happened with Valtor, like she knows he needed to be stopped but wishes she could have saved him(this is primarily why she cuts the trix so much slack before expelling them) She’s a mix of a lot of different ethnicities(solarian, melodian, and zenithian are the strongest) and was born on Magix.

10. Domino: Scotland/Ireland/tiny bit of China Solaria: Egypt/Greece/Italy Lynphea: Spain/Mexico/India/Persia Andros: Hawaii/Indonesia/Philipines/Afghanistan/ and weirdly a little bit of Canada towards the poles. Melody: Japan/China/tiny bit of Korea Zenith: Russia/Mongolia Eraklyon: England/France/Germany/Colombia Vaonaa: Australia/the USA if the pilgrims never happened Zhen: Mongolia/Korea Koyu: Turkey? this planet is a little fuzzy culture wise and the environment isn’t anything we have on earth.

11. Domino: 2 Solaria: it varies. Lynphea: 1 Andros: 2 Melody: 3 Zenith: 4 Eraklyon: 2 Vaonaa: 2 Zhen: 1 Koyu: 3

12. these are gonna be a little sarcastic because of who i am as a person im sorry @beevolution Domino: Hi we’re not dead and we have some really great mountain resorts please help us rebuild our economy Solaria: Sunshine all the time! The latest fashions! Don’t get lost in the desert because you will never be found! Lynphea: If you want a relaxing cottage retreat in a meadow come here, if you want a DEATH DEFYING TOUR THROUGH THE MOST WILD TERRITORY OF THE MAGIX DIMENSION also come here. Andros: You like the ocean? you’ll like it here. You don’t like the ocean? fuck off. Melody: CONCERTS! LIVE SHOWS! LIVE TAPINGS! PERFORMING ARTS!!!!!!!!! Zenith: Technological wonderland, probably have theme parks about technology. nerds. Eraklyon: Wanna buy jewelry and not talk to people? this is the planet for you. Vaonaa: Wanna buy fabric and talk to a lot of people? this planet is for you. Zhen: *Communication and transport to ZHEN is currently unavailable. Please hang up and try again.* Koyu: bitch why tf would you come here our atmosphere is posion. I guess we have pretty lights and stones???

13. oh gosh i don’t know..... Im really bad at celebrities. I love gillian anderson’s voice, but she would probably voice one of the adults not one of the girls. I like zendaya, lana condor, aubrey plaza, and steaphanie beatriz too. but like. They’re all 22 and over. Ideally the actresses (voice or otherwise) would be 16-20 age wise. 14. @powerpuffninja934 the wings can move a little! as long as the fairy isn’t trying to fly with the chronix wings they can move slowly. 15. Thank you! and that would be really fun! 16. I mean the short answer is yeah, they would. Fairy transformations are basically cheat codes. fairy magic is “earned” through little effort or practice on the part of the fairy its like a grenade, its powerful and wide range, but can cause unintentional damage. Anybody can throw a grenade, and there are different type of grenades for different purposed(flash, smoke, incendiary) but all of them can hurt innocent bystanders if not used correctly. Witch magic, and most of the masculine magic systems, is like a sniper rifle, it can take years and a lot of practice to gain a mastery of the tool, but has less risk of unintentional damage. if fairies had worse PR and weren’t thought of as “good” (compared to the witches PR being aligned with the ancestrals and “bad”) fairy transformations probably wouldn’t be allowed on the grounds that its unsafe and unnatural. @lowko 17. So magic is like a type of radiation/energy. Core Magic is like the electrical impulses that run the human body, its normal, safe, and part of the body. Natural Magic is like sunshine, its normal, safe(in low doses), and necessary. Ethereal magic is like a nuclear bomb. Its insanely powerful, targeted, and created/manipulated by the ethereal fairies usually for a specific purpose. Wild magic is like a cross between a freshwater spring and a natural radiation/electricity source(lightning?) its normal and part of the environment, but its dangerous and unpredictable. it also only effects a small area around it. Wild and natural magics work in tandem in the same areas. Natural sources are stable enough to link magic to(the resulting transformation is called danix), but wild magic is not. Natural sources can become/ be replaced by wild magic when the natural source is polluted, cursed, or threatened by a natural disaster. Its theorized that wild and natural magics have a limited level of consciousness, and when a natural source retreats, the wild magic takes over the sources mouth in an attempt to let the environment heal and ward off any threats. Wild magic sources can stabilize and be replaced by natural sources, but its less common. Bloom and Stella are linked to the dragon flame, and the second sun of solaria, which is where their titles come from, but the other girls aren’t linked to anything in specific and their titles are mostly personal preference. Hopefully this makes sense??? I’ll probably do a masterpost on how my magic system works here soon. 18. Yeah so i never really had a problem with the age gap because most of my friends growing up were 2-3 years younger/older than me. Also in my version Alfea is a legit college, so the average freshman age is like... 18/19? but you could technically attend whenever. 19. I love magix winx, harmonix, and bloomix! for least favorite.... butterflix................ and mythix........................... and sirenix.......(tho i do love the sirenix transformation sequence)

#winx #winxesm #ask dump #askems #mariloki4 #elf-from-the-ashes #theoretical-artist #beevolution #lowko #powerpuffninja934 #anonymous

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heartbeatan · 5 years

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Partition (Chapter 2)

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Chapter 2

A few hours ago you were hanging out in a voguish club that had been rented out for an exclusive launch party. The room was filled with big industry names, peers, and the occasional celebrity who decided to join. Attentive wait staff zipped smoothly through the crowd carrying trays of drinks and appetizers.

Two of your colleagues had also attended, but for the most part, you were wandering through the party alone. Your little talk show production didn’t tend to warrant a lot of mainstream attention, but it had done well enough that most guests knew who you were even though tonight was the first time you were formally meeting. The event had been a great opportunity to network, but the alcohol had begun to take over the atmosphere and no one wanted to talk shop anymore. Although you were a bit of an outsider, you were confident that you could make friends, however, you weren’t quite sure you wanted to expel the energy. The week had been long and busy, so a big part of you just wanted to go home and relax and not wake up with a hangover the next day.

You were standing on the second level, surveying the room below and sipping a glass of wine when a woman's voice startled you.

“He’s here!” your colleague and friend, suddenly appeared.

“Who’s here?”

“Don’t be coy, you know who I’m talking about.” You didn’t - but you figured it out as soon as you saw him step through the doors and onto the landing. The site of him gave you butterflies. You watched him warmly greet several people before he headed off in the direction of the booths. Min Yoongi.

On TV he was always charismatic and handsome, but now that you were able to see him in the flesh you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he truly was - not just in terms of raw looks… he had a certain aura that was quite sexy.

“Do you mean him?” you asked, nodding in his direction.

“Yes, of course. Who else would I be talking about?” she rolled her eyes. You could have argued with her about how there were many people in this room you would have been interested to meet, but you decide not too as you knew precisely why she was excited about him.

The rumor mill had been buzzing with the news. Apparently, he was a fan of your show and, in particular, of you. He allegedly had been asking around about how the two of you could meet. You assumed it had just been another inaccurate, out of context, ridiculous rumor, but, some of your staff had run with the idea either as a joke or in genuine hope that a wild romance between the two of you would occur which they could gossip about. Regardless, it was titillating to think that there was an off chance he was secretly (or not so secretly) pining over you.

You watched him confidently cross the room as he continued to greet others along the way. He made it to one of the V.I.P. areas which was filled with media personalities in expensive suits. After making pleasantries, he turned and began to scan the faces in the room before him.

“He’s looking for someone,” she gave you a nudge. It was your turn to roll your eyes. She was right though - he did seem to be looking for someone or something. Eventually he looked up to check out the second level. His gaze crossed the upper floor until his eyes arrived on you. You quickly glanced somewhere else, hoping he didn’t notice that you were watching him, but you could see in your periphery that he hadn’t moved. In fact, you were sure he was still looking right at you. After a moment you glanced back and your eyes locked with his. He dipped his hands into his pockets and gave you a casual, crooked grin. It was a mischievous expression - as if you two had a secret. You weren’t sure if it was the result of him also hearing the rumors and finding them amusing, or if it was because the rumors were true. The uncertainty made you a little uncomfortable so you turned your back to face your friend and took a comforting gulp of your drink.

“He’s looking right at you,” she exclaimed. “I knew it was true.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Stop staring, he’s going to think I’m asking you to spy on him for me.”

“I am spying on him for you - just not at your request. Oh, he’s going somewhere…” You fought the urge to turn around and watch him. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. Why would I do anything?”

“Give me a break. Tell me you haven’t thought about it?”

“Nope.” You took another sip. It was a lie. You did have a crush on him - although, you had never actually met, so at best you could call it a celebrity crush. He was endearing. He acted, he was a music artist, a radio DJ, he did a lot of charity work, a lot of community work, he was an art collector, he played basketball, he was an adventurist - hell, his list of hobbies and interests seemed to change more sporadically than yours did, which you didn’t think was even possible. Personality wise, as best you could tell anyway, he was charming, polite, open-minded and he seemed genuine. Intelligent, but, obscurely so - a bit of a weirdo, but in a good way.

Before the rumors, you didn’t really think about him, but whenever he was appearing on TV or in a magazine interview you were sure to tune in. Once you had heard the rumors, however, he was on your mind even when he wasn’t on your TV screen. You spent a many evenings doing the ménage à moi while fantasizing about him. You had imagined a sultry, sexy first encounter if you ever crossed paths. Perhaps a coat room, or a tucked away corner of a studio. Your fantasies always placed the two of you somewhere risky and elicit - he struck you as that type of lover.

Regardless, that was all fun in your head - this was reality.

The evening rolled on and you spent it conversing with various partygoers and getting buzzed on a few more drinks. By 10 o’clock you had managed to meet almost everyone of importance, but your desire to leave the party early had for some reason subsided - there was still one more person somewhere in the club you were pretending not to look for.

Nature finally called, so you made your way towards the restrooms. As you crossed the floor, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You looked up in their direction and, for the second time that night, you locked eyes with the sexy man you had only ever seen on TV and met in your fantasies. Unlike you had earlier, he didn’t dart his eyes away when you caught him staring. He held your gaze. His face was very handsome and inviting and there was something about the way he looked at you that made your insides tingle slightly. For a moment, you got lost in the exchange but were knocked out of your trance when you bumped shoulders with another guest passing by.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said before you ducked into the restroom. You felt your face flush with a bit of embarrassment.

When you exited one of the stalls, you we’re greeted by your friend again who was freshening up in the mirror.

“So, how is your night going?” she was trying to imply something. “Have you spoken to him yet?”

“No, I haven’t seen him at all.” She paused and smiled at you through the reflection in the mirror. She picked up on the fact that you had actually been thinking about him. “Well… he’s definitely seen you. He’s been watching you all night.” She handed you her tube of concealer, prompting you to clean yourself up.

Her revelation gave you a rush of excitement and you turned your head to look directly at her. “How do you know that?Have you been watching him this whole time?”

“Yes,” she was unapologetic. “Please, go flirt with him. Let me live vicariously through you! I need this.”

You laughed. “Why don’t you just go flirt with him without me as your buffer?” You returned the tube and shuffled through your bag for your on-the-go products.

“I would, but he doesn’t know who I am and it’s you he wants.”

“We’ve been here for hours. If he was really interested, he would have approached me by now. Your theory is bunk.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know. The night is still young. Let’s get back out there and find out.” You rolled your eyes as you finished up and repacked your purse.

You gossiped about the nights hot topics as you exited the rest room. Who was too drunk, who was too candid, who was flirting - all the juicy events that happen when the alcohol really flows. Upon re-entering the main room, you heard a voice call out in your direction.

“Hi.” You looked up and saw a man leaning against the railing looking at you. You stopped in your tracks when you realized it was him. Your friend forced a cough as a cheeky acknowledgement of your conversation from moments ago.

“Hi,” you responded somewhat dumbfounded. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, amused by your bewilderment.

“Hi! I’m a big fan!” your friend shook his hand and gave him a bright smile.

“Oh, thank-you,” he returned with a warm greeting.

“You know who this is, of course.” She gestured towards you. “We were both really looking forward to meeting you tonight.” He looked back at you at you as she says this.

Bitch.

“Really?” he asked, almost rhetorically. “Well, I’m a big fan of yours.” He reached out to shake your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You clasped his outstretched hand. His grip was polite but you could feel the strength he had in his hands, and you noticed how beautiful and masculine his long fingers were. For a moment you thought about what they could do to you. That thought combined with the sensation of this first touch sent a jolt of electricity up your arm. You shook off the thought and looked up to meet his gaze, but that didn’t help. He had a glint in his eye that made you feel… something. Like he desired you… as if he wanted to take you right then and there in front of all those people - and that you might have let him if he tried.

He turned to your friend. “Do you mind if I steal her away for a bit?”

“Oh no, not at all!” she replied, all to enthusiastically. “In fact, keep her. Make sure she has a good time. She has nothing to do after this… or tomorrow, by the way.”

Fired.

You watched her skip off back into the crowd as she bid you a good night. You turned back towards him and he nodded in the direction of the bar. He placed his hand onto your lower back to guide you there. Another pulse crossed over your flesh under the heat of his palm. You winced slightly, annoyed that you were so easily turned on by this stranger.

You reached the bar and took a seat next to each other. He turned his chair so he could face you. Trying to be cool but not too inviting, you turned yours somewhat to face him.

“I heard you were going to be here tonight,” he said. “I was hoping it was true. It’s about time we met.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” You wanted to kick yourself for that response. Firstly, you were too flirtatious, and secondly, you weren’t sure what kind of response you’d get or how you’d handle it.

“Because I want to take you home with me.” You choked when he said this.

I guess they weren’t simply rumours after all.

“You’re so forward. What makes you think I want to go home with you?” you smirked. Again, your inner flirt was making an appearance. Something about his proximity to you made her come out uninvited.

Keep your panties on, girl. You drew your lips between your teeth at the thought of your panties in relation to him. He’d probably pull them off of you with his teeth.

“Nothing. I don’t know if you want to.” He brushed his thumb across your lower lip, acknowledging your grip on it. You quickly released it. “But what I know of you, you’re an honesty-is-the-best-policy kind of person.”

“You don’t know me… at all.” You cocked your eyebrow.

“No. But, I want to get to know you.”

“Really? Because it seems as if you just want to sleep with me.”

He smiled. “Sleep with you feels like an understatement of the things I want to do to you.” Your nether region tingled.

Damn it, why is what he’s doing working?

He continued in a more serious, but still flirtatious, tone. “But I do want to get to know you. I’ll wait. Whatever you need, I’ll do. I’ll take you out. We can have dinner, drinks, go to the movies… If you don’t come home with me tonight, my interest in you won’t end.” He ran one of his fingers around the rim of his glass. You watched it softly circle around and around again. A simple action, but somehow it felt sexual and arousing. “I just don’t want to waste any time.”

Oh, please. Give me a break. You rolled your eyes no way believing he was sincere. He wants sex. Plain and simple. This is insta-lust, not insta-love. Regardless, when you looked back at him the hunger in his gaze was clear, and it made you not really care if it was just a big line to get you between the sheets. The last rendezvous you had with a man was over a year ago. Since then, you’ve been rendezvousing with battery powered objects. You were needy to feel the weight of someone on you and the heat of their skin brushing up against yours… or really just anything solid against you - the lamppost outside your apartment complex was looking pretty good to you at this point. At least he was a solid object that you had chemistry with.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked.

“No.” you responded. “But I’m still intrigued.”

His smile stretched a bit further. “Good.” He pulled his phone out of his breast pocket and gestured for yours. You handed it to him and he entered in his number and called himself so he would have yours. When he was done, he handed it back.

“There.” he said. “So, what will it be? Should I call you tomorrow or should I call my driver?”

You stared at each other for a moment while you considered his proposition. You wanted to go home with him. He was alluring, confident, a little dangerous - whatever it was about him that was seducing you, you wanted to give in. You weren’t sure if he was genuine when he said he’d wait for you and take you out on a proper date. Even if he did, you may not end up liking each other by the end of it, and maybe wouldn’t get the opportunity to have the great sex you had imagined you would have together. This was the sexy first encounter you had imagined - how often does one get to live theirs? You took another sip of your drink and licked the liquor off your lips before turning to give him your answer.

Fuck it, you thought. “Call your driver.”

51 notes · View notes

yehet-me-up · 5 years

Text

Boiling Point

Pairing: Jongin x reader (female)

Genre: dude idk, soft and romantic... stripper AU?!

Rating: (M) for language and sexual themes/situations

Word Count: 4,179

Summary: In the year you’ve been working at the Elxyion Male Revue you’ve somehow managed to not date, or anything else, with any of your incredibly hot co-workers. But then a new dancer starts who makes you break all your rules.

A/N: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY/CHRISTMAS @gingersaysjump ILY BAE <333 😉 😉 😉

The lights on the strip dazzle you, as they always do.

A hum of pleasure courses through you on your walk to work. In the year you’ve lived here Vegas has never failed to capture your imagination.

The city seems to rise as night falls. While the rest of the world closes its doors and falls asleep, Vegas wakes from its slumber and comes alive.

A faint breeze blows in off the desert and teases the edges of your dress. The material brushes against your thighs, already slightly damp in the persistent heat. It impresses you the way the blazing sun from the day lingers well on into the night, mixes with alcohol and music and skin, and infuses the city with an electric pulse that doesn’t burn off until dawn.

Something is coming, you think to yourself abruptly. You draw your lip between your teeth and work at it while you ponder what it could be.

Call it intuition, fate, whatever you want - it’s there, and it’s always guided you.

Whatever is coming, you’ll handle it, you tell yourself and shrug absently, releasing your lip.

Oh how wrong you are.

The club is in full preparation mode when you arrive. Kat the bar manager waves at you before her announcer boyfriend Chanyeol resumes what appears to be a very thorough exploration of her mouth with his tongue.

A man with cat-like eyes gives you a nod, his lips pulling back into what would be a smirk on a more arrogant man. The costume manager is fitting him for a military outfit that looks downright deadly and that familiar coil of heat grows in your core as you meet Minseok’s gaze.

You lift your hand in greeting, thankfully slipping through the curtain on the far side of the room to head into the staff lounge. He’s been flirting with you for weeks. Making eye contact every time he brought someone on stage to dance with, grinding his hips into that night’s bachelorette or birthday girl so you knew that he wasn’t just tempting you.

He wanted you to know exactly how good it would be if you finally let him fuck you.

For weeks he’s been letting his hand linger on your lower back when you all leave together at the end of the night. Giving you knowing looks at staff meetings. Hinting at things, but not acting on them; slowly working down your defenses.

But for now you’ve remained strong.

There’s always a buzz around the Elyxion Male Revue on Friday nights. Big crowds. Sweat. Screaming women going insane with each new inch of skin revealed by the dancers.

But, more importantly for you, Friday nights bring excellent tips.

You lift your purse over your head and slip it in your locker. Suddenly you feel a chin press to your shoulder.

‘Are you ready to die, my friend?’ says the cheerful voice.

Turning you raise a brow at your friend Sarah, you fight a smile as she gives you her giddy I know something you don’t know look.

‘What?’

‘Oh come on, ask me,’ she teases, humming.

‘You know I’m not going to ask, so you might as well just tell me,’ you deadpan, pulling your apron from your locker.

‘Ugh, fine. Ruin my fun,’ she says, dropping the charade. ‘Or maybe I won’t tell you, and I’ll get to watch you melt with no warning.’

‘Are you talking about the new military number?’ you ask. ‘Old news. I saw Min being fitted when I came in. Plus, did you forget I work on Sundays when they practice their new routines?’

She makes a sound like a buzzer. ‘Nope. Try again.’

You turn and fold your arms, leveling her with your most serious stare and finally she relents.

‘Oh fine. You’re lucky I love you,’ she says, stepping closer. Something about the mischievous twinkle in her eyes causes the forewarning in the pit of your stomach to come alive again.

‘There’s a new dancer starting,’ she says nonchalantly.

Your brows pull together. ‘Okay... and? We get new dancers all the time, how is that news?’

‘Remember that show we watched last month? That dance competition we binged?’

‘I remember you turning it into a drinking game and almost passing out halfway through the first episode.’

She rolls her eyes and laughs. ‘Yes. That one. Well, I have it on news from a secret source that your favorite dancer just accepted a job here and will be here tomorrow to watch the show.’

Images flood your mind - a downright sinful expression on an angelic face. Hip thrusts revealing swaths of tanned, sweat-covered skin. An artistry of movement that somehow stirred both your heart and your desire.

A groan falls from your lips. ‘Oh, shit.’

Sarah’s eyes light up and she gives you finger guns. ‘There it is!’

‘Kim Jongin is going to be dancing here?’ you ask, desperate to seek clarification.

‘You got it, babe,’ she says, pulling her hair back into a low ponytail and turning to leave. ‘Get ready to burn.’

For a moment you watch her weave through the crowd of dancers, assistants, servers, and bartenders and feel your life tilt off balance.

‘Helloooo ladieeees and welcome to Elyxion, the number one male revue on the strip, out-thrusting Chippendale’s and Thunder From Down Under six nights a week. Are you ready to get this party started?’ Chanyeol’s voice booms over the speakers and the packed crowd goes wild.

You chuckle to yourself and bend down to take a woman’s drink order over the ecstatic screams of the crowd.

The sound of a fire alarm goes off through the room and you quickly write down the drink and move toward the bar.

‘Uh oh, ladies. I think there might be…’ Chanyeol’s joyful voice strings along the crowd, playing perfectly to the mix of fantasy and reality they came here for.

He walks across the stage, lifting his hand to his ear. ‘A FIRE IN THE BUILDING.’

The lights in the room drop just as you come to stand next to Kat at the bar. The two of you share an amused look and turn to watch the first performance.

Minseok always starts the show with the first solo - a firefighter number. Something about his combination of devastatingly hotness and his warm and reassuring presence sets the tone for the evening.

You discreetly deliver drinks to the tables during his dance.

His stare practically bores a hole in the back of your head and you know he’s hoping you’ll make eye contact. It’s a game you both enjoy playing, but there’s something missing tonight.

For some reason when you finally relent, as you always do, and watch him essentially dry hump the bachelorette on stage to Nelly’s ‘Hot in Herre’ you don’t feel the same electricity you once did.

With a confused shake of your head you carry on with the evening, laughing with the bar staff and other waiters, dancing along to the music when you can’t resist, and wondering what it is about the mere mention of Jongin that threw you off your groove.

The mid-afternoon line in Starbucks drags, sapping your energy. You step from foot to foot, eyeing the man at the front of the line who is placing what appears to be a million orders at once.

All you want is caffeine, but apparently Saturday is going to put you through hell to get it. After a long Friday night and with another wild night ahead of you, Saturdays always feel like three days in one.

With a sigh you raise your hand and begin to work your thumb into a kink in your neck. A buzzing in your pocket draws your attention. You pull out your phone and glance at the text on the screen.

Sarah 2:15pm dead woman walking

Sarah 2:15pm hope you’re ready for tonight ;)

Y/N 2:16pm you stop that now

Sarah 2:16pm nope, can’t make me

Sarah 2:16pm muahahahaha

You laugh to yourself and slide the phone back in the pocket of your dress.

Finally the man of a million orders moves to the side and the line moves forward.

The heat in Vegas is an insistent, unrelenting beast. It tugs at your hair, plays along the line of your neck, trails down your spine, refusing to let you find relief. If the club wasn’t air conditioned you’d be willing to bet women of all ages would literally pass out from the combination of masculine sexuality and heat in the air.

It’s especially hot in this goddamn Starbucks because the constant crush of bodies refuses to let the door stay closed and do its job of keeping this place cool.

A group of teenagers brushes past you. One of the boys reaches around to tickle the girl next to him and she jolts in surprise, crashing into you and throwing you backward - directly into the person behind you.

Strong hands wrap around your body, keeping you upright.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry,’ the girl says, reaching out a hand in your direction.

You wave her off with a smile. ‘No harm, no foul. It’s crowded as hell in here.’

She looks relieved and the hoard of youths finally departs, leaving you to turn and thank your rescuer.

Only years of customer service jobs and a practiced ability to control your reactions keeps you from dropping your mouth in shock.

The man behind you is none other than Kim Jongin himself, even more handsome in person in low slung jeans and a plain black button-up shirt. He finally removes his fingers from their hold on your upper arms and instantly you want to ask him to put them back.

‘Are you all right?’ he asks, low voice cascading across your skin.

You shake your head to clear it and give him a warm smile. ‘Yes, thanks to you.’

He laughs. ‘No problem. I’m not used to Starbucks’ being so crowded, but then again I’ve never visited one in Vegas.’

‘I know, right? Vegas is a universe unto itself. No normal rules apply.’

The line slides forward and you take a few steps up before turning back to him. When you do you see that he’s nonchalantly taking a look at your tanned legs showed to perfection by the skirt you’re wearing.

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, you think, lips twitching in amusement.

‘See something you like?’

He lifts his eyes to meet yours. Were he another man he might look apologetic, chastised, or maybe make a pass at you, a bold statement claiming you as his own possession to admire.

But he surprises you.

‘Sorry, that was rude of me - checking you out before I even ask your name.’

A boyish smile graces his lips accompanied by the seductive lift of one brow. A heat that has nothing to do with the high temperatures outside sweeps through you.

Warning bells go through your mind. Your commitment to not date people you work with. A hard-learned lesson not to be swept up by men who seem too good to be true rushes to your consciousness.

But unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at things, you’ve never been one to heed warnings.

The moment stretches on, neither of you breaking eye contact. There’s something in his irises, playing around his expression you can’t place. An attraction, sure. Playfulness, definitely. You decide to call it purity, someone who is exactly who he presents himself to be - no bullshit or facade, a rarity in Vegas.

You are well and truly fucked. And he didn’t even have to take your clothes off.

‘Well. Are you going to ask?’ you say, giving him your best flirtatious smile.

His brows crease adorably. ‘Ask what?’

The line moves forward and you’re finally to the register. Delight courses through you. Leaning forward you pause a few inches from his ear, looking at him through your lashes. ‘My name.’

He laughs, a bright warm sound, as unrestrained and un-self-conscious as the rest of him while you place your order.

When you step aside he’s got his phone out, holding it up to you with your name saved, making you laugh. Damn, you’d given your name to the barista.

‘How about a number to go with the name?’

Your lips pull back into a lopsided smirk. ‘I don’t think you’ll need it.’

He looks confused again. Somehow, your drink is already ready, the barista at the end of the bar calling your name.

‘I work at Elyxion,’ you say, joy and mischief infusing your words.

He chuckles, looking down at his feet. Another man might have asked questions, been off-put by the clear disparity of information between the two of you. But once again he surprises you, merely lifting a shoulder and turning to place his order.

‘I’ll see tonight.’

‘See you there... Jongin,’ you draw out the syllable, earning another laugh from him as you weave your way outside through the crowd.

The buzz in the club is even higher than normal when you arrive. Something about Jongin’s upcoming appearance has pushed everyone to operate at an even higher level. Costume staff, servers, even some of the strippers themselves - all seem to be trying extra hard tonight.

You laugh to yourself as you get ready, already surrendered to whatever the night will bring.

When you show up to the pre-opening staff huddle you find Jongin easily, his silver hair shining even in the low light of the prep room. When he sees you he gives you a wink before turning to listen to your general manager Junmyeon give the rundown for the show tonight.

He introduces Jongin and everyone welcomes him, the words passing through your mind without your notice. You’re far too distracted by the low cut shirt he’s wearing as you shamelessly check him out.

He catches you watching and smothers a laugh, raising an eyebrow as if to say fair is fair.

You mouth ‘at least I know your name’ to him and his eyes crinkle at the corner as he tries not to laugh.

The huddle breaks up and Junmyeon claps a hand on Jongin’s shoulder, steering him backstage to watch the show.

Unfortunately you only catch glimpses of him throughout the night as you serve drinks. He watches the routines with focus, mimicking the moves subtly in almost real time.

You find him like a homing beacon every time you serve on the far side of the room. And every time you walk back to the bar you run your hand along your neck, simultaneously cursing and thanking God for bringing this man into your orbit.

Sunday is everyone’s Friday, blessedly. A final show to close out the week and then a long day off on Mondays for everyone to rest and recover.

After two full days of weekend high the building is always nice and empty when you arrive for your shift. Sunday afternoons you and Kat do all the weekly tasks like inventory and ordering and bookkeeping in between yawning and drowning yourselves in coffee.

Jongin arrives just after two in an obscenely arousing pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top. He waves to you and Kat while chatting with some of the other performers before heading onstage.

You do your best to not watch his rehearsal, avoiding the way you can see every line of his body as he practices the choreography.

‘Those goddamn hip thrusts,’ you mutter, glancing away as if he’s the sun, too bright and hot to look at without being burned in some way.

‘What was that?’ Kat asks, but the look on her face lets you know that she’s aware of not only what you said, but also what you meant.

You stick your tongue out at her and kneel down to intently count the glassware behind the bar.

‘That’s what I thought.’

After the last of the group numbers is through a DJ Khaled song starts, low and dangerous, and you feel it in your gut that this is the song they’ve chosen for Jongin’s solo dance.

‘Fuck,’ you sigh.

‘He’s dancing right now isn’t he,’ you ask with a wince, looking up at Kat.

She’s got her arms folded, leaning back against the bar. She tilts her head and whistles. ‘He sure is, my friend.’

‘Double fuck,’ you laugh to yourself.

‘You really should be watching this.’

‘Nope. No. Definitely not,’ you say decisively. ‘No dating people I work with. Or anything else for that matter, no matter how sweet and charming and incredible at dancing they are.’

She laughs. ‘Honey, I think you might want to make an exception.’

You narrow your eyes at her and go back to counting, standing and turning your back on the stage to work on the liquors.

‘You know that works better when you practice on a real person!’ Kat calls out, startling you.

‘What are you doing?!’

When you turn you see Sehun the choreographer rolling his eyes in amusement and Jongin on the floor, raised up on his arms smiling at you.

Kat gives you a satisfied grin. ‘Trust me.’

Jongin stands, resting his hands on his hips. Even from this distance you can see his chest rise and fall with his breathing, the sweat that shines on his chest and arms.

He stares you down, raising that damn brow in challenge. ‘Are you volunteering?’

She practically shoves you forward, taking the inventory list from your hands. ‘Yes, she is.’

You curse under your breath and smooth your hair behind your ears while you walk. Just what you need, to burn alive with lust while half your co-workers watch.

‘Hold You Down’ starts over again, the bass from the speakers thrumming through your veins.

In all the months you’ve worked here you could count on one hand the number of times you’ve been on stage. And you knew decidedly how many times you’ve been on stage in this context - none.

From here the bright lights of the stage make it hard to see the rest of the room, or even backstage. The spotlights create a bubble that exists only for you and Jongin. You assume the position on the chair set up at center stage, bracing your hands and grasping the edges of the chair for dear life.

With his eyes fixed on yours he moves in time to the beat, drawing his lip into his mouth and biting down as he takes off his shirt with aching slowness.

Once it’s free he steps up to you, bringing his face a breath from yours. He bends down, running his hands up your thighs to grasp your hips. You almost whine at how goddamn good he looks staring up at you, his head inches from where you want him the most, if you’re honest with yourself.

In one fluid motion he cups your thighs and lifts you onto his shoulders, your legs over him and your crotch directly in his face. You scream and laugh, grasping the back of his head in your hands to avoid falling. He gives you a wink that only you can see and your shake your head in amusement.

The chorus kicks in, fast and sensual, and he shifts you, spinning you into a bridal style hold.

He moves again, laying you on the floor before tearing off his pants and crawling over you, a hungry look on his face that makes you clench your thighs together.

You’re so captivated by his expression you hardly see what he’s doing with his body. But oh, how you feel it.

His thighs press against yours as he grinds himself into you, balancing the line all male dancers have to between giving the lucky chosen woman what she wants but maintaining enough professional distance to avoid coming on too strong.

Too bad, I want you closer you think, surprising yourself.

He finally finishes and helps you up. From the way he’s breathing heavily and watching you, you know he was thinking the same thing. He thanks you and you walk back to the bar as best as you can without passing out.

‘So, how was it?’ Kat asks.

‘I’m going to need a cold shower as soon as I get home,’ you sigh. ‘Or more batteries for my vibrator.’

Kat laughs, clapping you on the shoulder. ‘Or you could just fuck him. The man is umm literally drooling on you.’

You lift your eyes skyward, praying for divine assitance.

It goes on like this for days.

Lunches at the taco joint down the street, laughing about tales from your previous jobs and his wild career. Dancing together when the group goes out after work to hit the strip on Thursday night.

Flirting with Jongin is a dangerous game you can’t help but play.

Perhaps its resisting fate, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the feeling in your chest when he brushes your hair behind your ear one night.

Or perhaps it’s logic, warning you away from what could be disastrous for your sanity. For life as you know it. Watching him grind on other women on stage makes jealousy and possession rise in your chest like a hungry wolf, in a way it never did for Minseok.

It disturbs you how fast this man has blotted out the rest of your life, and you can’t figure out how to feel about it.

Sunday arrives and once again you watch Jongin dance, feeling like you might combust at any moment from a combination of lust and need and … something decidedly softer.

You take a break as lunch arrives and head to the back room to check your phone. You turn while scrolling through instagram, bumping into a solid form.

This time when Jongin’s arms keep you upright you’re inches from his face. The smell of his cologne and his sweat, the devilish smile on his lips, makes you almost whine out loud.

‘Hey,’ you start with a laugh, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

‘Hey,’ he repeats with a smirk.

Blessedly the back room is empty. You can hear Minseok and Chanyeol laughing distantly and you know they’re entertaining the group while everyone eats. Leaving the two of you all alone back here, for better or worse.

In the silence he lifts his hands to cradle your jaw, his thumbs sweeping across your cheeks. With a sigh you finally succumb to this thing between you, resting your face against his hand and closing your eyes.

‘I love what we have right now, but I don’t just want to flirt with you,’ he says softly. ‘And I’m not just trying to sleep with you, I want more.’

Once again he surprises you with his guilelessness, speaking the truth with no hint of shame. He waits until you open your eyes to continue.

‘I want you to be mine. Will you let me take you for dinner tomorrow?’

Your heart feels like it turns into liquid butter. You shrug and say, ‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’ he asks, confusion once again turning his face boyish and adorable.

You laugh and drop your hands to hold onto his hips. ‘Okay.’

You nod. Simple as that. Perhaps you knew the day you met him that this is where things would lead. Or maybe it’s just that Vegas magic. Either way, you’ll take it.

He smiles in response, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your face into his neck and sighing in satisfaction.

A moment later he pulls back, cupping your neck with his hand and pressing his lips to yours without waiting any longer. He kisses softer than you’d expect from his dancing. Steadily working his mouth against yours until you relax and soften in his arms.

You move your hands to his neck, tangling them in his hair and gently tugging on his lower lip. He grins against you, sliding his tongue along the seam of your lips seeking entrance.

His hands slide down your sides, trailing heat in their wake, heading for your hips. You moan into his mouth as his strong hands slip under the edge of your shirt and caress the skin of your lower back.

The two of you kiss for what feels like days in the quiet, dark back room. Days could have passed and you wouldn’t have even noticed. Eventually he pulls back and gives you a grin.

After a beat you speak. ‘Okay, but could we do both the sex and the relationship, I’m about to die from how badly I want you.’

He laughs against your hair, a low sound that surrounds you. Pulling his head back he meets your gaze, heat evident in his expression.

Slowly he presses you against the wall, his arousal clearly evident against your thigh.

‘Come with me,’ he says with a suggestive raise of his brows, clasping your hand in his.

‘More than happy to,’ you quip, earning you another laugh from him as he leads you into one of the changing rooms.

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