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izzys-bluebell-woods · 4 months

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I feel like people have been quick to dismiss Mimzy's importance in Ep. 5

I've been seeing a lot of Mimzy hate, mainly on Reddit, where people are genuinely REALLY hating on Mimzy because she was annoying, interrupted Hell's Greatest Dad, and served no purpose in the episode.

Whilst the previous two points are down to personal taste, I feel like considering Mimzy's role in this episode nonexistent, or that she just exists for fanservice here, is greatly overlooking what this episode is about. There are two focuses to the episode, one of course being Lucifer and his relationship with Charlie, but it's also the deepest look into Alastor's actual character that we've gotten so far, I'd say significantly more than the finale. We see two sides to Alastor that both Mimzy and Luficier bring out, and I wanted to kind of highlight my thoughts and what the episode was trying to show us about Alastor that we wouldn't have gotten if Mimzy wasn't there.

Alastor's instant hostility towards Lucifer makes it incredibly clear that Alastor can't keep his cool all the time - his two biggest flaws is that he is power-hungry and incredibly petty. From what we know - and what is likely to be true considering Lucifer is shown to have no idea who he is - Alastor has never met Lucifer before this. If the theories that he belongs to Eve/Lilith in some way are true, there is reasonable ground to say that this immediate hatred towards him could be justified, maybe it was in some way Lucifer's fault that he's caught in this deal and this is his way of taking it out on him or trying to uphold his end of that deal.

But look how much his mask slips, look how annoyed and angry he is. If this was a font that he was doing to somehow make Lucifer intentionally mad at him for some sort of personal gain, he wouldn't have looked so murderous. Him just leaning down and hissing 'fuck you' right in his face was so shocking for the audience purely because no one has done that to him before, no one has pushed him so much.

This indicates that Alastor isn't just playing some sort of game, Lucifer genuinely got under his skin, because he is so obviously more powerful than Alastor and he HATES that. He hates being reminded that he's not the biggest meanest in Hell - this was explored more in his showdown in Adam, but at the time of this episode's release, this is the most flawed and 'human' Alastor has ever felt. He's dropped from this force of mysterious evil, to randomly picking a fight with the Devil himself because he was so catty about being shown up.

As further reinforced with him snapping at Husk when he also reminded him he wasn't as all-powerful as he sees himself to be, Alastor will lash out at those who make him feel like he isn't the one in control and pulling the strings of everything - we finally see a hint of motivation for him sticking around at the hotel at all.

But then there's Mimzy.

We immediately go from seeing Alastor at his worst, at his most aggravated and petty, to seeing him literally melt into a hug. The demon who, according to Viv herself, hates physical contact so much that he would distort and melt himself to get away from it. We so quickly go from being shocked that Alastor is behaving so spitefully to now having to take in Alastor being ecstatic to see someone who he considers to be a friend.

Having this be so directly after his massive tiff with Lucifer is so important. If this wasn't included in this episode, our only insight into the person Alastor actually is would be that he's an asshole. Picking fights with people just because he wants to stay on top, that its the thing he cares about the most. But Mimzy does come along, and we see that it isn't true at all - and its confusing, and that is so perfect.

You think you're getting somewhere with the person Alastor is, but you see that, hold on, there is actually a semblance of heart in there, here he is actually caring about someone. But what is so important about this being a relationship he shares with Mimzy, and something that couldn't at all be explored with, say, Rosie, is the kind of person Mimzy is.

Mimzy double crossed Alastor. And, according to Husk, this is a somewhat regular occurace. We can see that Alastor is annoyed at her, and I think most of us were prepared for him to do something to her like he was doing to those loan sharks a few seconds before this confrontation.

But...he doesn't. Not at all, he doesn't even snap at her. Perhaps scold her a bit, but other than that, he is so nice to her and just politely tells her to leave and that is that. He does more shit to Lucifer, who literally hasn't done nothing but exist in his presence, than someone who just trampled all over his ego by using him, both as a shield and, well, somewhat emotionally.

In this episode, Alastor is shown to lash out. Easily. All you have to do is be more powerful than Alastor, and he won't like you - that's the impression you'd get from his scenes with Lucifer alone. But we have his scenes with Mimzy as well, and you're being told, hold on, no, that isn't quite correct, because he's not acting the same here. What has Alastor got to gain from letting Mimzy get off of this with no repercussions? Mimzy, someone who has probably sold her soul to someone else and has absolutely no power at all.

Nothing. He does it because Alastor cares about her.

I don't think I would have considered his friendship with Rosie to be genuine at all if it wasn't for his friendship with Mimzy. Rosie is so powerful, and Alastor has so much to gain from being in close cahoots with her, but it's so clear that he doesn't care about that, but he sees her as an equal. If all we saw from Alastor in that episode was him lusting for power, it would render the way we see all his relationships with people to be of some gain to him somehow. ESPECIALLY Rosie and other Overlords like Zestial.

This makes Alastor and Mimzy's relationship arguably one of the most interesting in the show. Someone who is so powerful and unpredictable, who hardly cares for anyone other than himself, caring about this absolute gremlin of a woman. He likes Mimzy purely because she's fun to be around, a sentiment you might expect from Alastor, with his stated reasoning for joining the hotel being to laugh at people, but he's in no way laughing at Mimzy. You can tell that he doesn't intimidate her at all, because she has the absolute balls to pull off the loan shark thing with him.

Mimzy and Lucifer's interactions with Alastor has made him to be one, if not THE most interesting character in the show. Because you're exploring two contradictory sides of the same coin at once. One where he gets so worked up and angry over not having the power he sees himself as having, and one where he's visibly hurt that his long time friend used him. In one instance you have him pulling out all the stops to be as hostile as he could be to Lucifer without actually hurting him (even though he clearly wants to), and another where he has full range to hurt Mimzy as much as he wants to, but he doesn't.

Alastor cares about people. But also disregards people like playing cards. He is such a mixed bag, so far from being one note, and you wouldn't have gotten that insight without Mimzy.

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #mimzy #hazbin hotel mimzy #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel analysis #also very telling that reddit shits so strongly on one of the only plus size women in the show over her acting like a bitch in hell #you know #like so many other characters in the show

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jesuistrestriste · 4 months

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♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm

wc: 6.3 k (whoops)

note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.

"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.

It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.

After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.

At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..

You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.

Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.

Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.

Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!

You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.

Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.

He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.

I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.

And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..

After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.

Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.

“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.

you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.

“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”

He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.

“What’d your colleagues do now?”

You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.

“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”

“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”

“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven.” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)

“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”

You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.

His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.

“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”

You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.

“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.

He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.

“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.

You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.

“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.

“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”

You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.

You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.

His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.

You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.

“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.

He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.

He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.

Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.

“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.

He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”

“They look perfect, don’t stress.”

He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.

“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.

“I am.”

“Are you?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

You suddenly get a very filthy idea.

“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”

His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.

“What?”

You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.

“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”

He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.

“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”

His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.

You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”

A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”

You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”

He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.

“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.

Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.

“Close?” you whisper.

His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.

“Very,” he groans.

You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.

“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”

You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.

“Now take your sweats off for me.”

He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.

You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.

"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.

You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.

He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.

"Open," you whisper.

He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.

You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.

While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.

"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.

Art knew this command like the back of his hand.

Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.

"Good job.. good boy..."

He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.

"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.

"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.

You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.

"What was that?"

You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.

"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.

He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.

Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.

"You can rip them."

He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.

In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.

"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."

He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).

You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.

"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.

He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.

You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..

"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.

"I'm going to cum, Art..!"

"Mm! Mm-mm!"

"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.

"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.

You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.

"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.

His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.

"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."

He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.

You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.

"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"

He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.

"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.

His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.

You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"

He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.

You roll your eyes.

"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."

He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.

"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.

"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"

He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.

"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"

You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"

He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.

You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.

You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.

Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"

You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?

"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"

He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.

You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.

"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."

He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.

And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.

"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.

"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.

He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.

"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"

He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.

"Remember what we just talked about?"

He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.

He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.

"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.

He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.

"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.

You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"

He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.

You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.

"Come."

And he does just that.

Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.

"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.

He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.

You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.

"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.

He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.

"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"

You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.

"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"

He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.

"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.

He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.

You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.

"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.

He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.

You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."

The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.

He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.

"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.

You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.

"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."

He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."

You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.

It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.

"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.

"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.

You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.

He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."

You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..

"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.

"You know what you need to do, darling."

"Please," he moans, "let me come.."

"You want to come?"

"Yes."

"You do?"

"YES..!"

"How should I make you come?"

"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.

You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.

"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"

"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.

He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.

"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."

"Please, can I come?"

"Again."

He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.

"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"

"Yes, honey, you can come."

You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"

When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.

"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"

It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...

His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.

Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--

"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"

He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.

You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.

Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.

You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.

"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."

He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.

You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.

"I feel weak," he groans softly.

You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."

He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.

"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.

"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3

reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!

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burst-of-iridescent · 3 months

Text

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 1)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

it's well-known that atla draws from indigenous, east and southeast asian influences, but something i rarely see discussed in the fandom is the influences the show takes from hinduism and south asia, and there are actually far more than i think people are aware of.

so here's a (non-exhaustive list) of the main inspirations atla drew from south asian culture and hinduism, starting with...

The Avatar

the title of the show itself is taken from the ancient language of sanskrit, often considered the sacred tongue of the hindu religion. in sanskrit, the word "avatar" means to "descend" or "alight".

the concept of the avatar is a very old one, referring to the physical incarnation of a powerful deity or spirit. the idea of the avatar is most often linked to the god Vishnu, one of three supreme hindu gods collectively called the trimurti, or trinity. the avatar is said to manifest upon earth primarily in times of great need, when balance must be maintained between the forces of good and evil.

atla borrows heavily from this idea in having aang be the incarnation of a divine spirit who returns to the world during a time of immense strife, and is tasked with defeating a great evil to bring balance back to the world. and though i don't know if it was an intentional reference, it's interesting to note that Krishna, the most famous incarnation of Vishnu was also reborn amidst a fierce storm and carried through a raging sea to a new home where he would be protected from the king who sought to kill him. sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?

Agni Kai and the Philosophy of Firebending

the word "agni" derives from the sanskrit name Agni, the god of fire, though it can also generally mean "fire".

the concepts of lightning bending and the sun being the source of firebending are likely also taken from the idea of Agni, since he's said to exist simultaneously in three different forms on three different dimensions: as fire on earth, as lightning in the atmosphere, and as the sun in the sky.

Agni is a significant aspect of many rituals, including marriage rites, death rites, and the festivals of holi and diwali. the concept of Agni is one of duality: life and death, rebirth and destruction. hindu rituals accept and celebrate both aspects, revolving around the idea that destruction is not separate from creation, but rather necessary to facilitate it. the cremation of the dead, for instance, is seen as purification, not destruction: burning away the physical form so the soul is unencumbered, set free to continue the reincarnation cycle.

this influence can be seen in the firebending masters episode, which discusses the idea of fire being vital to life. the sun warriors safeguarding the original fire and demanding that zuko and aang bring fire to the dragons as a sacrifice could also reference the ritual of Agnihotra - the ritual of keeping a fire at the home hearth and making offerings to it. the purpose of this ritual differs depending on which text you refer to, but it is generally believed to purify the person and atmosphere in which it is performed, similar to how zuko and aang must make offerings to ran and shaw and survive their fire before being deemed worthy and pure.

Agnihotra is said to serve as a symbolic reminder of the vitality and importance of fire as the driving force of life, a lesson that zuko and aang also internalize from their encounter with the dragons.

Bumi

bumi's name is taken from the sanskrit word "bhumi", which means "earth". it's also the name of the hindu goddess of the earth, bumi or bhudevi.

one of the things the original animation didn't do and which i really enjoyed about the live action was that they made bumi indian and added desi inspiration to omashu. it makes perfect sense for a king whose name is as hindu-inspired as they come.

NWT Royal Palace

chief arnook's palace in the northern water tribe takes inspiration from the gopurams of hindu temples, massive pyramidal structures that served as entrance towers to the temple.

gopurams were built tall enough to be seen for miles around, beacons to signal tired or weary travellers who wished for a place to rest that a temple was nearby. it's a nice touch that the chief's palace is located in front of the spirit oasis, a similarly symbolic entryway to a sanctuary housing otherworldly deities.

Betrothal Necklaces

to preface: i doubt this was an intentional reference, and this great post talks about other cultures that could have inspired the water tribe betrothal necklaces. given the desi influence in the nwt architecture however, i figured it was worth mentioning.

the idea of betrothal necklaces being given to women by their male partners is similar to the thaali, a necklace given to hindu wives by their husbands. during hindu weddings, grooms tie the thaali around their brides' necks to symbolize their marriage. once given, wives are expected to wear their thaali till the day they die, as doing so is believed to bring good luck, health and prosperity to their husbands.

Chi-Blocking

though chi-blocking takes primary inspiration from the art of Dim Mak, it is also influenced by the south indian martial arts forms of adimurai and kalaripayattu, both of which include techniques of striking vital points in the body to disable or kill an opponent.

kalaripayattu also shares parallels with firebending, being a very physically demanding, aggressive martial art that emphasises the importance of discipline and mental fortitude. control of the mind is essential to control of the body, a philosophy similar to that espoused by iroh across the show.

Wan Shi Tong's Library

the library draws inspiration partly from the taj mahal, the famous mausoleum constructed by shah jahan during the mughal empire as a monument to his beloved wife, mumtaz mahal.

i'll end this post here since it's getting too long as it is, and the following section will be even longer. for while atla treated the concepts in this post with respect, the same unfortunately cannot be said for its depiction of guru pathik and combustion man - both of which we'll be discussing next.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla cultural influences #hinduism in atla

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queenie-ofthe-void · 3 months

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“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about.

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve.

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer.

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too.

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes.

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement.

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug.

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

#It's 1:30am and life is chaos #I wrote this in two hours after i spent all day at work hyperfixating on one of my favorite bands #This is all wikipedia so if something's wrong no it isn't i'm too fragile for corrections #if you see typos no you didn't #ramble on is eddie's vecna song #change my mind #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #led zeppelin #eddie munson headcanon #steddie headcanon #QueenieWritesStories

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babygorewhore · 5 months

Text

Unholy Contrition

Rafe Cameron immediately wrote you off as some Bible thumping prude. And when his father died and left the entire fortune to him, he absentmindedly chose your father, A preacher, to speak at the funeral. But he catches something about you that reminds him of his favorite Porn Star. And he decides he’s going to corrupt you. What he doesn’t know is…you’re not as innocent as you act.

Okay guys the horny demon got me and I once again had to write about cocaine daddy because I’m addicted to him. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this and beta reading. I love you dolly.

Word count 5K!

Moodboard

Warnings! Talk of religion (duh) reader is a porn star, masks, masterbation, slight cat and mouse, choking, degrading, oral, unprotected sex! Virgin reader! Daddy kink! Kinda perv reader tbh but same. Slight breeding kink. And barely proof read I apologize.

Disclaimer: female in photos just for aesthetic purposes!!

When Rafe first saw her, it was at the annual outdoor movie where the pouges and Kooks got together. The pouges served food and drinks while he and his family sat comfortably in the front row. Topper, Kelce and himself watched JJ and Pope after their encounter. He thought they knew better than to fuck around with him and his friends. But he’d have to teach them. Burn it into their brains.

He was Rafe fucking Cameron. And they would learn their god damn place.

“Watch them.” He told Kelce and he got up. Kiera was getting a drink and this was an opportunity to assert his intent.

“Tell your boy, we know what he did.” His warning did nothing to sway her loyalty as she walked away. He smirked and then it fell when a girl was walking up to the line. It was the Preachers daughter.

He towered over her like most people but what caught his attention was the high neck shirt, covered thighs and worse. A cross on her neck and a wrap around cross bracelet around her hand. Her hair was in pig tail braids. She had doe eyes and bitten pink lips.

And she was carrying a fucking Bible. Which was a shame. She was pretty. Beautiful even. But he hated the church.

“Excuse me,” She whispered and moved past him. He had an urge to snatch it out of her hands and throw it. But he had more important things to do.

“Yeah; go ahead Jesus freak.” He hissed, bending down to say it to her ear. Her eyes widened and her brows pulled together.

“I-“

But he walked off. He wasn’t going to waste him time when he had two pouges asses to kick.

Your dad gave funeral talks all the time but now you were weirdly excited to go. Not that you were excited about Ward’s death but more about who’s attending. Rafe Cameron would be there and you actually thanked god for it. It wasn’t that you didn’t have your own belief system but the entire restriction? Fuck no.

But for the sake of your poor older father, you kept up the good girl facade. It was easy really. Keep everything simple, light pastel clothes while hiding what was underneath. Your nickname was Kitty from the cat ear beanie you had since you were a teenager. But your dad had a variety of nicknames for you.

All of them were gentle. Pure.

You adjusted your white lace turtleneck before your hands settled on your ankle length pink skirt. The very sight was way out of your true style but it would do for the service. Your white socks and black Mary Jane’s. Your cross bracelet, and necklace was a little overkill.

But no one knew how you used the cross in secret on your only fans.

The black thong you were wearing was already growing wet as you stood next to your father waiting for him to arrive. He greeted everyone with a handshake. Your eyes drifted over the crowd, mascara thick on your lashes as you subtly rose to your tiptoes. Damn, was he late to his own fathers funeral?

“Kitty, look who it is. Hello, Sarah.” You forced yourself to smile. She was crying with Topper on her arm. Apparently she and John B, Rafes arch nemesis, had broken up. For now anyway.

“Hi, Sarah, I’m so sorry…” You gave her a genuine hug and she squeezed tightly.

“Thank you, kitty.” She sniffed.

“Mr. Cameron, now that you’re here-“ You tried your best not to snap your head too directly in his direction but you slowly turned your head.

Rafe was wearing a suit and his hair was slicked back out of his eyes. Different than he had been running around a few weeks prior before he inherited the entire fortune.

He seemed…more unhinged. Something in his eyes flashed when he saw you, drank you in like a man after a day in heat. You gave him a sympathetic smile and you rolled your ankles, trying to seem smaller. More vulnerable. “Hi…Mr. Cameron. I’m so sorry for your loss…” You murmured.

His strong hand engulfed yours, his fingers long, covered in gold rings and warm. You looked into his blue eyes, shining on you and he said. “It’s still Rafe, little bunny.”

The nickname made you want to cum in your panties but you ducked your head with a blush. But you couldn’t blame him with your modest clothes and makeup. He returned to speaking with your father and you tried to keep your glances to a minimum. He was going to work for it.

The service was simple. Outdoors and you stood next to your father. You held a small Bible that was gifted to you in middle school as your cross dangled from in between your fingers. Rafe was staring at you. You could feel it but you wouldn’t give him the chance to meet your gaze yet.

You had a lollipop in your pocket. One you took out of your collection as you left your house. You always sucked on something. Your cross. Your dad wouldn’t think twice as you subtly unwrapped the paper and slowly licked a circle around the candy. Your tongue was lewd as you then pressed it passed your swollen lips.

You took another measure by your pointer and thumb pushing it back and forth and then you stuck it further…until it hit the back of your throat. Playing dumb, you gasped quietly and coughed. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, lipstick slightly staining. You then took an opportunity to look at Rafe.

His jaw was tight and he was biting his lower lip. Blue eyes were darkening as he inhaled the process of your action. His chest moved up and down rapidly. You wanted him to know you were baiting him. But you also wanted to fuck with his mind. So you did the most reasonable thing your thoughts came up with.

You gave him a small wink.

After the funeral, he was out of your sight. But you took the extra step by linking your second account on your instagram story. You knew he would watch it.

Your obsession with Rafe Cameron started in high school. He was a few months older so he graduated sooner. But when you first saw him, hanging around other girls and guys at the private school. Disobeying rules but having enough family power to ignore them. Turned you on. His rebellion was something you craved. Your attraction only grew when you saw him one day yank a girl into a closet and you heard how good he made her feel. Granted, you hid right outside the door. You wanted to be her.

You want him to throw you around. Use you. Take you like you were only made to be his little toy. Your fantasies only grew when you followed him on social media, he was public so you had fast access.

What he didn’t know was that you used your second account. Where you wore your sluttiest clothes without showing your face. You posted stories about sexual thoughts, songs and thirst traps of your body. And he commented on every single one.

“Fuck, I wanna see your pretty face.”

“I want to fuck you. Fuck your throat. Watch you leak with my cum.”

It was an endless amount of fun. You knew he wanted you. He just didn’t know you were both versions yet. And each response you gave him, ended with a wink.

“Kitty, you look tired. Do you want to head home?” Your father asked. You nodded sheepishly. Finally, you could get home and post more on only fans. You knew he would watch as well.

“Thank you, dad. I’ll see you later.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek and started to the car.

It wasn’t an accident you parked across from him and you saw him walking in the direction. You dipped your hand into your pocket, acting like you were searching for your keys as you dropped a thin fabric on the ground. Quickly, before he could approach you, as you heard his shoes you got into the driver's seat.

Playing dumb was simply picking and choosing when you showed innocence. As you drove away, your plan cemented and you bit your lip.

Getting home and settling into your bed, you wore the lingerie Rafe always requested. Normally you charged him more, but you’d give him a treat today. You pulled out your rabbit, spitting on it and slathering it with lube. You barely needed any on your pussy as you set your phone exactly where it showed the best angle.

You wore the cross on your bracelet as you traced your clit with it. A lot of girls did this but Rafe would consider that it’s yours. Maybe he wouldn’t. The doubt would drive him crazy. Just like he drove you crazy.

He was infamous for snorting coke at parties you were never invited to and you imagined smearing it across his gums before licking them. Or his strong fingers holding you down as he did a line on your body. What you wanted most? Being pinned down as he spat on your mouth and slapped your pussy. These thoughts drove you to easily slip two fingers inside as you grind onto your hand.

“Fuck me, daddy. I need you.” You whined. You wish he was here. You wish it was his hand instead of yours.

You tried to hold back, usually taking longer for a video but you came extremely quickly. As you laid there, sweaty and still needy. You glanced at the notifications. They were repeated. Sliding on your side, exposing your bare ass, you picked up your kitten mask and read the messages.

They were all from Rafe.

He was sending money. “Please, let me see that fuckable face. I’m begging you, kitten. I need it. I need to fuck that soaking pussy. Daddy needs you.”

You had to bite your lip to keep from chuckling.

Normally, you just winked. But this time, your fingers swiped and you replied.

“Work for it, daddy.”

Rafe couldn’t get the image out of his head of you sucking the lollipop out of his fucked up head. You were the preacher's daughter for god's sake. Someone he teased for being some sort of Bible thumper and she probably didn’t even know what kinky meant. But…god she was pretty. The way she innocently batted her eyelashes at him like a bunny. That was what stuck out to him. A little bunny rabbit.

And then she winked at him. It felt so pointed. Purposeful. She also dropped a black damp thong on her way to her car. Rafe snatched it up before anyone could ever see it and he half scoffed and moaned. A creamy stain that was recent. Either she secretly touched herself or she was so wet that it soaked through and ran down her pretty legs.

The last words of the mystery girl on Only fans, who was his favorite porn star, gave him more than a wink this time. Work for it, daddy.

It made him cum all over his hand again just from her words so he couldn’t even imagine her pussy. But the doubt. The doubt was there. But she was-he clenched his fist. It was during the day and he had a second to breathe in between meetings.

Rafe typed her name on instagram.

As he suspected, it was mostly scenery shots, half faced selfies and photos with your father. A few of them you were smiling, apparently whoever took the photo made you laugh when you were at the beach. He almost swiped to another photo when he narrowed his eyes.

It was very small. He almost missed it but there was a small…handprint? Right below your swimsuit above your thigh. It had to be your hand, given the size but his mind drifted to a particular video where mystery girl spanked herself to his request. Was he being paranoid? He looked at another photo, a flashback to your graduation where John B took you to prom. And he felt at twitch in his jaw. But not before another detail caught his attention.

Underneath your bracelet. Left wrist. He saw a black mark. Not a mark, he zoomed in, careful not to like the picture.

It was a tattoo.

He couldn’t see what it was but his eyes widened. Mystery girl also had a tattoo there.

But you couldn’t possibly have one. Not the preachers daughter. Weren’t they forbidden or some shit? It was starting to drive him insane when his alarm went off.

“Fuck.” He muttered to himself and clicked the button. Turning his screen black. It couldn’t be you. Not this innocent girl who called him Mr. Cameron. But what if it was? He’d have to find out for himself. Anyway he needed to.

And here he was. At fucking church. He couldn’t remember a time he was here other than his dads funeral. Your dad was on the stage, flipping through a book he assumed was the Bible when he looked up.

“Mr. Cameron. What a pleasant surprise. Kitty, guess who’s here!”

He tried to keep his expression neutral as you came from a door on the left side. You wore a long light colored dress right above your ankle with the same shoes as the funeral. Your hair was in two braids with a kitten beanie, in this weather? And you still wore your two crosses.

But you were so pretty. Prettier than last time if it was possible. You gave him a small smile, ducking your head. “Hi, Mr. Cameron.”

He neared you both, trying to think of a way to subtly touch you without catching the attention of your father.

“Rafe. Um. I just wanted to stop by. Say thanks for the service. It-helped. Especially with Sarah. She’s all emotional and shit.” He quickly glanced at your dad. “Sorry.”

“No need. Freedom of speech is a gift. But you don’t need to thank me. It was Kitty who told me about him as well. So I could make it personalized.”

Rafe swore your eyes flashed. Just for a second. So he pushed. “You did? You friends with Sarah or something?”

You twirled your hair, apparently sucking on some sort of candy. When you opened your mouth, your tongue was red. “Yeah! We talk sometimes. I just wanted to help, you know?” You started sniffing. “I can’t imagine losing my dad.”

“Oh, honey…”

Rafe cleared his throat. Desperate to get you alone. “Hey-can I talk to you? Just for a minute, I wanted to ask you something.” He eyed you carefully and you nodded. Your dad didn’t seem suspicious. Which made his doubt increase.

Maybe the wink was a fluke. A nervous habit? Or maybe you did that to everyone.

You both stepped away, slowly walking down the aisle. He felt uncomfortable, wearing a suit when he wanted to feel loose. It was too constricting. You played the cross on your bracelet. He raked his brain for something or someway to look at your arm. He had to prove that you didn’t have a tattoo and he was just crazy.

“So, what did I want to talk about?” You prompt him and he clears his throat.

“I’m-“ Oh, no. What could he possibly say? “I’m trying to be more spiritual. You know, with my dad dead. I just want to have hope, you know? That I’ll see him again someday. I would ask your dad but you know. You’re more my age-“

“Oh, Rafe. You don’t have to explain yourself. Do you want me to help you? I can just…go over scriptures with you. Meet with you here. Doesn’t have to be complicated.” The way you said his name made him feel insane.

You had a tilt to your voice. The way you said the word. You didn’t sound like a little mouse for an instant. You sounded-confident. And then it quickly disappeared as your eyes flicked away. “Only if you want, I mean if you don’t, I understand-“

“No, I’d love that. And I also wanted to apologize for what I said. A while back.” This was the most awkward conversation he’d ever had in his life. You started twirling the end of your hair with a painted fingernail.

He squinted, trying to see any sort of ink. Nothing. He was right. And now he was stuck with some sort of scripture offer. “I-“ and then you stretched.

Your arms over your head and he didn’t know where not to look. Your tits were lifted, your neck exposed and then he saw your sleeve lift.

It was a black butterfly tattoo. It was medium sized. Pretty. And then he saw a few more peeking on yiur skin. Mystery girl had the same tattoo but it looked like you had more. Rafe snatched an opportunity.

“I like your tattoo.” He complimented. Hoping to get some sort of answer.

“Oh, thank you. The first one is from a while ago but the rest are new. Dad doesn’t approve but I promised to keep them covered up.” The candy you were sucking on. You rolled it around in your mouth and Rafe was bouncing with some sort of frazzled energy.

“What do you do? Outside of church?”

“I make jewelry. My own business. Sarah actually bought a few things. It’s obviously not Cameron level but I do pretty well.” A blush reddened your cheeks. Jewelry making? Damn. He didn’t have a fucking clue. But why did you wink?

He was going to lose his mind.

“That’s cool. I’ll have to-“He checked the time. He stopped here before going to the building for work.

“I have to get going. But I’m glad we talked. And I’m sorry again.”

“It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. Besides, I was still in high school and I was a little awkward.” You giggled behind a hand. Your smile was adorable and he had an urge to cup your face.

What was he doing? What was this end goal?

“Yeah, me too. Um-“

“Here,” You brought out your phone and opened the number key. “Just put your number in here and I’ll let you know when we can get started if you still want to!” She chirped as he quickly typed in his number.

Her phone in his hand was so small and he felt a twitch in his crotch. Her camera roll. It could be so easy. Just a Quick Look. Just to see. Just to be sure. But to his surprise, you took it back before he had a chance.

“It was nice to see you,” You nodded with a smile.

“Yeah! You too.” He said quietly and watched you walk away. His mind was even more fucked.

Who were you? Or who was the mystery girl? For once in his life, he did consider praying for an answer.

Getting more tattoos at the same time he showed up at church wasn’t planned but it worked out exactly to your favor as you shut your room door with your hip and set your bag down. But you saw the wheels turning in his head. He was taking the bait and you smirked. This was almost too easy. Trapping him. But he was so desperate.

You needed to spark something in him, either get him to ask directly or get him to cave.

Adjusting your hair in your car mirror, you scanned your white dress for any stains. The small flowers decorating the fabric and your cross on your body. But this time you wore a pair of boots that your father nearly had a heart attack with. They were completely different than you normally wore. But you needed more proof that you were his favorite little bunny.

The church loitered with a few people, as they normally did after a Sunday service. Your knee bounced as you waited for Rafe as you sat in the front. You had a few scriptures in mind, ones to stir him and you knew he’d never imagine were in the Bible.

“Sorry, I kept you waiting.” His raspy voice caught you by the surprise but you slowly turned and looked up at him.

Rafe wasn’t in his suit today, instead his casual clothes but there was nothing casual about the way he was staring at you. His eyes were on fire. Full of desire and confusion.

“Oh! That’s okay, Rafe! I wasn’t waiting long! Please sit,” you scooted over and he seated next to you. His knee against yours. You didn’t move it.

“So, you want to hear a few scriptures, or I can pray for you, which would you prefer?” You spread your legs a little and Rafe swallowed. His jaw clenched.

“Uh-I-i don’t think I’ve ever prayed before. So the Bible is fine. I just want to make peace, you know. With my dad. But I have another problem.” You raise an eyebrow.

“There’s someone I really want. And I know it’s…against the lord of whatever. And I need some help. What should l do? How do I resist it like you?” His question hung in the air and your chest tightened. You were so tempted to tell him but that’s not what you wanted.

“Well. I just listen to what the Bible says about that. It keeps me strong. What it says is clear.” You nodded. You opened the book on your lap, “1st John 1:9 ‘if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness’” you looked at him.

“So, if you confess, God will help you.”

Rafe bit his lip and leaned in closer. “This girl. She’s a fucking porn star,” he growls. “And she wears a little kitten mask and she fucks herself all nice and obedient for me. But the problem is she teases me like a brat. She never shows her face even though I give her more money than she’s ever seen. She’s her fathers only child but she calls me daddy. And had the nerve to tell me to work for it. She fucks her cross on her pussy when she knows damn well I could do it better. But she hides. Hides behind this little innocent act with the holy Bible and looks at me with eyes that make me want to rob every single innocence away from her and expose her for the whore she is. And baby, I think it’s you.”

Your core was dripping on the bench. You were almost shaking with want and you almost had to look away from him. You felt exposed. He did figure it out. You weren’t quite prepared as you thought with his reaction. Despite your activity behind your close door, you hadn’t fucked anyone all the way. Making out with friends at sleepovers was as far as you got in real life. Your obsession with Rafe made you wait. You always knew he’d be yours. And you made it happen.

“I-“ he held a finger against your lips, cutting you off.

“No, no, no, see you’ve fucked around with me a little too long, little girl. Now, I get to show you exactly how big of a mistake that was. So, you’re going to go home and think long and hard about what’s going to happen next. For once, I think your God isn’t going to protect you from me.” Rafe pulled away and stood.

“How does it feel to be left high and dry? And by the way, nice tattoos.” And then he winked at you.

You gasped as he walked away.

Your thighs were growing damp from the leaking arousal and you were breathing heavily. Holy shit. It worked. You bit your lip as you pulled out your phone.

He had texted you. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

When you got home, your dad was out. He was gathering his sermon scriptures and then to spend time with his small circle of friends. You told him you didn’t feel well enough to go. Your mask was secure on your face as you took photos in your bra and panties.

You planned on making more content but it was getting harder because you wanted Rafe so badly. You wanted him to fuck the brat right out of you, making all your dreams come true from his earlier talk. Pouting, you started going through tik tok, laying on your stomach. But then a noise caught your attention. Sitting up, you went to grab your robe when your door was bashed open.

Eyes wide, you see Rafe walk towards you, with a sadistic smirk on his face. He tilted his head, trailing his blue irises over your body, your naked knees pressing together.

“Hey kitty.” He said, stalking towards you. Rafe kneeled on your bed before grabbing your ankles. You shrieked as he dragged you towards him and loomed over you. “The mask was a really nice touch, baby.” Rafe glanced at the cross on your neck after he tore off your mask and threw it. He pulled it, tugging you up.

His breath hit your mouth. “You want to be my slut? All those fucking videos for me. Making me crazy. Making me doubt myself. You’re gonna regret it. Open your fucking mouth.”

You immediately obeyed and Rafe spit inside. He grabbed your jaw and closed it.

“What’s wrong? What happened to that little brat? Aw, she’s done isn’t she? Fuck, and I haven’t even done anything.” He tapped your cheek harshly. You felt his silver rings against your skin.

You were trembling but you grabbed his face and smashed your lips together. You tried sitting up but Rafe would have nothing less than submission as he pinned your hands above your head and dominated his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you with brutal force and you almost came just from that. All these years and it was better than you could have ever imagined.

He ripped away and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Tell me you’re going to be good.”

Your air was cutting off and you nodded rapidly. “I’ll be good.”

“Say I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry for making me have to search for answers. And finally break into your fucking house.” Rafe snarled and tightened his grip. You could feel him hardened above you.

He shoved his hand inside your underwear, grazing your soaking pussy. His two fingers rubbed your clit but with too light pressure. Your eyes rolled back as your stomach tightened.

“You’re so pathetic. Gonna cum and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? A little whore but you’ve never done this with anyone but your own tiny fingers.” Rafe lent down and hovered over your mouth that was parted.

He pulled his hand away and you whined. “No, please, I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry for doing all this-“

“I’m sorry daddy,” Rafe mocked you, his fingers shoving inside your greedy entrance. “I’m sorry daddy that I’m a dripping whore and I need the Bible to get you to fuck me.” He started chuckling as you grew noisier. “Come on, you can do better than that.”

“I’m-“ He stopped and you almost screamed. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m a stupid dripping whore but I want you so bad. You can do whatever you want to me. I’ll take anything but please stop teasing-“

Rafe broke then, his hand removed from your neck and you sucked in air. His mouth slammed against yours as he ripped your underwear off, and fumbled with his belt. He slid down, kneeling on the floor as he spread your legs. Your glistening cunt made his eyes darken. “You’re so fucking wet for this.”

His tongue lapped at your clit, circling it around the bud before he licked the underside with pressure. You mewled and clawed the bed as he devoured you. Rafe’s tongue slipped inside you with ease as you clenched. You were so close it was painful. But he was relentless. Slowing when you were just about to reach your peak.

“Daddy, please make me cum.” You cried out, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m sorry, but please daddy.”

Rafe stopped and yanked off his pants and boxers. His heavy leaking dick was bigger than you thought as he wasted no time running it down your pussy. “This may hurt a little,” He warned before slamming in. “But you can fucking take it.”

Your nails clawed his back as he thrusted again. You moaned so loudly it surprised you but he met you in volume. “Fuck, daddy!” You said against his ear.

“Are you going to behave?” Rafe grunted as he crudely started massaging your clit. “Are you going to behave from now on?”

Your vision went white as your stomach tightened, “yes I promise,” You whispered before your pleasure exploded.

Rafe did too, his movements stalled as you felt him empty inside you, and your damp forehead rested against his.

“Maybe I fucked a baby in you, kitten.” Rafe sneered with a fucked out look. He was still inside you. “Looks like you corrupted me to your religion.” He smirked before pulling out.

“So…” You cleared your throat and looked at him with a small amount of vulnerability. “What does this mean? Is this it?”

Rafe inhaled and his fingers went to grip your jaw. His powerful face above you sent chills down your naked spine. “If you think you’re anything else but mine, then you’re a dumb little bunny. No one will ever touch you but me. Be with you but me. And besides,” He grinned wickedly. “Your dad already likes me.”

Tagging

@imyourdaninow @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow

#rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron smut #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron fic #Rafe Cameron one shot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x you #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe

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darklinaforever · 12 days

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"I will never understand why people ship them together when the Cat King is just SO nonconsensual and downright creepy towards Edwin. What are people even seeing??"

"Also his apparent idea of romance is trying to coerce Edwin and then trapping him to subject him to continual harassment like dude enough is enough"

I still remind you that without the Cat King, Edwin would probably have had no development in his feelings and his sexuality.

It is literally the fact that the Cat King blocked him in town and tried to seduce him that causes a positive development in Edwin, with his iconic confession to Charles. Without Cat King, there's none of this.

And again, in case these people forget... Edwin's punishment was literally an equivalent of what he did to a cat. The punishment was fair.

Also I call him back, but Edwin seemed very, very willing to the Cat King's advances. I even dare to say that our Cat King sabotaged himself by putting the bracelet on Edwin because otherwise, Edwin would clearly have let himself be kissed and maybe even more.

Edwin did not perceive the Cat King's advances as harassment. On the contrary, deep down, he liked them. It felt good to be desired like that. His whole body language shows he was enjoying this.

And the Cat King being visibly strongly linked to desires, and more particularly Edwin's desires in the logic of the scenario, something tells me that he must have felt it. The Cat King was content to flirt with someone he liked and who he felt liked in return.

Even when the Cat King forced Edwin to tell the truth, it may seem immoral, but it was a good thing for Edwin's character development and even just a good thing in the sense that it allowed him to unravel a weight by confessing something that visibly weighed him down. We can see him nodding very briefly and discreetly when the Cat King tells him that he shouldn't feel better after revealing this ?

I'm tired of seeing this type of person spouting their bullshit. It seems like they're purposely watching the show with their eyes closed. Either that or they don't have an education in media analysis.

I personally believe that what must annoy these people a lot is the fact that even their precious little Edwin, whose honor and physical integrity they are trying to defend at all costs, canonically has a big crush on the Cat King and was completely ready to be kissed by him during their literally first interaction which they like to describe as assault. 😂

Also, even though most of us Catwin shippers would like them to be endgame, we are well aware that it's a low probability and that Charles will surely eventually realize that he romantically loves Edwin in return. On the other hand, these people who spit on the character of the Cat King seem to simply refuse to recognize his importance in Edwin's sexual and romantic journey, trying to portray him as a disgusting abuser who would have traumatized the poor Edwin when just... no.

It's not very complicated to understand what we like about the Cat King and his relationship with Edwin. But for that, these people would already have to have the descent to understand the basis of the character. He is fully present to serve Edwin's positive emotional and sexual development. Without the Cat King, Edwin would probably never have been pushed against the wall in order to fully assume who he is. What the Cat King brings to Edwin is very beautiful and important. And for this to happen, Edwin obviously has to actually feel things for the Cat King. But these people really don't seem ready to hear that either. Basically, we like this relationship because it is well written with a goal and complex characters sharing a connection to tell it to us.

#catwin #cat king x edwin #edwin x cat king #cat king and edwin #edwin and cat king #the cat king x edwin #edwin x the cat king #the cat king and edwin #edwin and the cat king #the cat king #cat king #edwin payne #the dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives

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jessiethewitchzard · 2 months

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Mahoako Propaganda

This is the post where I try to convince you that Gushing Over Magical Girls(aka Mahou Shoujo Ni Akogarete aka Mahoako) is actually a wholesome sex positive story about young lesbians exploring their feelings for one another in a world without homophobia. (and I'm serious.) If you are a fan of yuri or magical girls, who dismissed mahoako as being horrible exploitative garbage, this post is me trying to convince you to give it a chance. It's not some horrible male gaze rape fest.

These characters are explicitly, canonically lesbians, who are in love. They're women who love women, and aren't afraid to show it.

This is a story where a girl struggles with whether she's being a creep by thinking her girlfriend smells nice.

They talk frankly about their anxieties about kink.

there's pining childhood friends. (who actually get together.)

There's all sorts of lesbians, from wholesome uwu schoolgirl crushes, to weird traumatized alt girls making each other worse.

Also, a character looks directly at the camera and reminds people that consent is important and you shouldn't touch someone without their permission. Basically, the story uses magical girl tropes as a framing device for the 'magic circle' of kink. In the same way that people use bdsm is a safe space to explore their feelings in new ways, the characters use magical girl battles, which are kind of treated as 'not real' in a similar way. But of course there's the elephant in the room. It's an extremely horny manga, and most of the characters are minors. These are high schoolers who touch each other's boobs. I totally understand if that alone is enough to put you off it, but I will say, these are horny teenagers getting weird feelings about each other and figuring themselves out. They're not powerless victims being exploited. For one thing, there's literally no men in this entire show. Not even a single background character. They're all women. If you're on board with a story about 14 year old girls having funny feelings about their classmates, I'd say give it a shot.

If you're *almost* on board, but the objectification still makes you a little uncomfortable, I can assure you, the story consistently focuses on how the girls feel as people, and goes far beyond simply objectifying them in a sexy pose. The kinks serve a purpose in the plot, and to enhance characterization, so if you do read it, don't completely skip past the kink scenes.

Also, if you're actually curious the kink, I should mention, it's not just bondage and spanking. in the first season alone, they've done waxplay, giantesses, abdl, exhibitionism, electroplay, tentacles, and "the room you can't leave until you fuck" among others. There is a smorgasbord of perversion here, but it's balanced out and contrasted against a bunch of really cute little character moments, especially in the manga.

#manga #mahoako #yuri #mahou shoujo ni akogarete #aj oc #lesbian manga #like I won't say it's a top ten manga of all time masterpiece #but its way better than it has any right to be

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void-star · 8 months

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I'm starting to get the impression that people don't actually know what a trauma trigger is or how to identify them.

It is not feeling uncomfortable or disgusted with a concept or subject.

It is an activation of your sympathetic nervous system (activates fight or flight) over things your brain has associated strongly with a traumatic event.

The things your brain associates with the traumatic event don't always have to make sense: it can be as innocuous as a certain song/ringtone or notes from a cologne/perfume, or as direct and obvious as the sight of a weapon.

The important thing here is that it's a moderate to severe body experience in response to something that is not immediately dangerous to you and reminds you of a traumatic experience you have had in some way.

When you know and understand this, you can start to catch the physiological signs of the activation of your sympathetic nervous system. It's helpful to recognize both to calm your body down when you're not in immediate danger, and to recognize how this activation can affect other areas of your life.

I say that last part because it shuts down a lot of cognition, makes you stop thinking clearly, because it serves the purpose of trying to get you immediately out of danger.

My therapist still does a kind of explicit mirroring with me a lot, where rather than focusing on the thoughts and the fear that's on the surface, she brings my attention to my body: tightness in muscles, narrowing of vision, increased awareness of sounds/smells, constriction of the chest.

I bring this up because, first of all, it seems like some people use "trigger" to by synonymous with feeling uncomfortable or disgusted, to ride on your concern for their wellbeing in order to control your behavior. I don't like that.

Second of all, it also seems like other people are focusing on the occurrence of a trigger as a hallmark of something being harmful. Like once you're triggered, you're hurt and damaged yet again, and there's no coming back from that.

This is both untrue and disingenuous. I don't think it's particularly useful for trauma survivors. It's important to recognize that triggers are the residual effects of the things that harmed us that we couldn't do anything about. Triggers are manageable and they are not an indication that you're being harmed again. They are the body's memory of the harm, and its commitment to preventing you from being harmed again by latching onto a pattern it thinks will help you be safe if there's a next time.

You HAVE to learn to rationalize this if you want to feel safer, more comfortable, and in control of your world. You deserve that.

You don't deserve to sit inside of the intense fear and lack of understanding that comes with not investigating your own experience, or the way it can box you in to see danger and harm and abuse all around you.

And if you don't learn that, you're going to end up believing the only thing that can keep you safe is the elimination of everything that reminds you of what you went through... which is harmful to other people.

#psychology #ptsd #ptsd triggers #trauma triggers #what is a trigger?

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Unknown Episode 7

What a pitch perfect separation episode; this show continues to kill it. The loneliness and heartache was practically wafting out of my screen this week, and it made the time apart feel real and meaningful even as it came to an end relatively quickly in show time.

Qian hardly said a word this episode, but we know exactly how devastated he was to be without Yuan because his despair was present in every moment. It was in the way he always looked drawn and tired, the way he moved so listlessly, they way he seemed to be constantly self-soothing with substances, the way he kept getting lost in his head and staring off at something only he could see. Even when he got it together a little at San Pang's urging, he focused his efforts on keeping Yuan's room tidy and every mention of Yuan by a friend or acquaintance still caused pain to bloom on his face. His home was too quiet without his siblings and he missed them both, but his yearning was specific to Yuan and he was not just lonely, but heartsick. He was tense for this entire episode--right up until the moment he was finally able to lean on Yuan, take a breath, and relax.

For Yuan's part, he did his best to honor his brother's request, and used his time away to better himself. He took school seriously and worked diligently so that he would be able to come home some day. He respected Qian's boundaries, only contacting him on holidays and never pushing for more communication than what Qian was willing to grant him. Lili came home on every school break, but Yuan stayed away as requested. And his patience paid off when Qian finally relented and invited him home. The way he stepped out of that cab (bangs parted now so we know he's matured) and immediately reasserted his role in Qian's life felt important; he's not coming home with his tail tucked between his legs. He's important to Qian and he still has a role in this family and he is confident about that. Qian calmly letting himself be led away and falling right back into their old caretaking patterns said it all; Yuan has been missed.

I am interested to see how the show goes about revealing the Lili and San Pang relationship, which seems to have started sometime during this time skip, and how that will play into the larger repair of the family bond. They did not have a romance in the novel, so I'm curious to see what narrative purpose it will serve here. I appreciated that San Pang realized quickly that separating Qian from Yuan didn't actually help him at all; he'll think twice before interfering again. Lili, meanwhile, still doesn't know the cause of the fracture between her brothers, but most of the people around Qian seem to understand how Yuan's absence is affecting him. I liked the scene with Xiong Da Fang, which was a nod to his story in the source material (in the novel we actually saw him take that vow of monkhood and try to live that way for awhile before coming back to go into business with Qian) and a much needed reminder of who Qian is. The show is surrounding our little family with people who understand them and get why Qian and Yuan's bond is so different from the norm. They will need that community as their relationship continues to change.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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moongothic · 4 months

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Hey so also have Sir Crocodile brainrot and have recently reread Impel Down. This is probably nothing at all but it made me question the artistic choice made. Like we dont see Crocodiles full face until Luffy recognizes him. Before that tho he joins in on Jinbei & Ace's convo about Whitebeard and is shown to (non-)react to Boa Hancocks visit. But we only get his face in shadows or see the hook. Which. Why. Oda we know what he looks like and who the guy with the stitches on his face and the hook is. WHY OBSCURE HIM.

My friend, this is what we call a "cocktease"

Okay jokes aside, yes it was an artistic choise. More specifically, a storytelling technique Oda masterfully used to build up hype and excitement to Crocodile's eventual reveal and re-introduction into the story.

So thanks to Ms Goldenweek's cover story (which ran back during Water 7/Enies Lobby) we already knew Crocodile along with Daz, Bon-chan and Galdino had all been sent to Impel Down, when we also learned about Impel Down, Marineford and the Gates of Justice (+ the giant whirlpool between the three locations) to some extent. ((Now of course, if you were an anime-only then you would've had no idea about the former BW members being in Impel Down. And even if you had read the manga you still would've had to actually pay attention to the cover story and its lore, and not forgotten all about it))

So even before Luffy decides he's going to head to Impel Down to save Ace, we know Crocodile's going to be somewhere down there. The second Luffy arrives there, we are immidiately reminded of the fact when Domino mentions Crocodile taking the traditional "bath" new inmates take at the entrance. And as we descend deeper and deeper into Impel Down, with those cuts to what's happening down at Level 6 every now and then, as well as with the Baroque Works Countdown, Oda time and time again keeps on reminding of us of Crocodile's looming presence in the background. This is all absolutely deliberate. Crocodile was arguably the most iconic (maybe not most popular but iconic) One Piece villian at the time, if given an opportunity of course the readers wanted to see him again. But just letting us see him right away would be anti-climactic, and distracting from what's actually important (Ace, and Luffy getting to him as fast as possible). So keeping him hidden could serve multiple purposes:

For one, Crocodile doesn't get to steal the spotlight from the other characters (at least not too early). We can focus on Luffy, Ace, all the new Impel Down characters and the other returning characters in peace, while Crocodile waits for his turn. Another thing is that Crocodile's presence being downplayed gives off the impression that perhaps him being there isn't that important to the story. Thus, him teaming up with Luffy to break out isn't such an obvious twist (and so when that happens, it's ever more hype as a result)

But indeed, the most important part is that by teasing us constantly through out Impel Down, Oda creates hype. He makes us the readers excited if/when we might get to see the bastard, even if it was just a quick little cameo. So when Luffy finally reaches Level 6 and we finally do get that reveal, everyone loses their fucking marbles over the HISASHIBURI DANA MUGIWARA when we finally get to see The Motherfucker Himself. (And indeed, then getting to see him fight alongside Luffy is cool as fucking hell, completely unexpected and absolutely delightful)

But there's also another thing building up to Crocodile's reveal does. Compare his original introduction to the re-introduction

Compare Crocodile at the height of his power and influence, to the absolute rock bottom he has hit. No longer happily laughing while looking down on people (literally), he's filthy, he has given up on life, with sunken eyes and a hollow look on his face, only moved by a thirst for petty revenge (/an opportunity to go out with a bang). He doesn't even get the whole page for his grand reveal anymore, he's been shuffled to the side so the plot can progress on the same page.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

And to some degree, this is kind of meant to be a shocking realization to the readers. That this is not the same Crocodile we remember from Alabasta, that Crocodile died when Luffy defeated him. This is just the husk that remains, a shadow of what was once there. It's a sad sight, and probably not what the readers who loved Crocodile The Villian wanted to see. It's not the epic Return of the (Evil) King they wanted. And that juxtaposition helps, because Crocodile doesn't return into the story as a villian, but as a frenemy/ally-on-thin-ice. And that idea is easier to signal to the readers in a lowkey manner when you do his re-introduction like this.

So yes, Oda refusing to show Crocodile's face until Luffy found him was 100% a deliberate artistic choise. This is fantastic storytelling

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Also yes part of the reason Crocodile's re-introduction doesn't take up the whole page is just how Oda has changed as an artist #And how his paneling/page layout had evolved over the years #ALSO ALSO back in Alabasta Crocodile's Grand Reveal taking up as much space as it did made sense 'cause he was The Final Boss of The Level #Where as in Summit War he's just one of the MANY players in the up-coming chaos. He wasn't as important #AND it was a re-introduction of an old character. Compare to like Iva-chan who got a much more Grand Reveal as a brand new character #But my key points still stand #(Yes that line was anime-only but to be fair HISASHIBURI DANA MUGIWARA is an iconic line so let me have this)#(I was laughing quite hard when a while back on Twitter there was a meme of people sharing anime quotes that live in their heads rent free)#(And a considderable amount of people responded with THAT QUOTE SPECIFICALLY)#((Personally the OP quotes that live in my head rent free are all pretty much Luffy quotes))#((''I will surpass you'' and Luffy SCREAMING ''OF COURSE'' at Usopp when getting the energy to beat Lucci are just. Yeah))#((I love Mayumi Tanaka so much its unreal))

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viaphni · 11 days

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RUINED REALLTY SEASON THREE: CATALYST TRAILER ANALYSIS

I have to completely admit that the end of season 2 and its epilogue had me very hesitant for the way things are going, and I am still a little hesitant, but i DO BELIEVE THAT THEY ARE 1000% COOKING

First of all, that trailer was AMAZING!

The music, atmosphere, and cinematography were all done very very well (and great voice acting from Rinzler too)

But onto the actual trailer

It opens up on the results of the Soulstice's arrival, with Light alone, showing everybody's souls stolen away and their bodies on the ground. Light has lost it all. He immediately blames himself. It's also made apparent pretty quickly that Soullless is still present in some way, and is going to play a significant role again.

One of the first really interesting things to occur is Light taking the Soul Eater's weapon in his hands.

He stares at it for a moment before picking it up, the screen fading to black. But why would he be using his worst enemy's weapon? What benefit does it serve him? Mostly likely, I think it would have something to do with Soulless. Whether he likes it or not, Light now has a complete tie to the Soulstice itself. As he takes it, he says "And now, another threat is here..."

And Void's new reign of terror is displayed:

We are shown the Yellow Kingdom again, and the areas around it, completely overtaken by Darkness. Void must have taken complete control of the situation, as we just saw Seer with active dominance over their body in the epilogue. Maybe it was a defense mechanism to keep him alive after Corrupt's attack?

After these shots, we see what I think is the center tower of the kingdom—and there is a deep, bottomless pit surrounding it where the moat of lava once was.

It reminds me a bit of the castle entrance to the Depths from Tears of the Kingdom. Void might have something important down there.

A few more shots cycle through of the tower, and we see this—

The camera is descending into the chasm.

Next, we see a room maybe akin to some kind of lab?

It could also be a big machine. Somebody is standing there, but even with heightened exposure and brightness, it's hard to tell who it is. I'm sure it's Void, however, due to the chasm and darkness. This shot is really interesting, too--

--because it seems to be the view of the surface from this area underground. With heightened exposure, the walls look very machine-like.

Whether that or a lab, it clearly serves a primary purpose in Void's plans. (One of my first thoughts was likely a stretch, but I asked myself if it could be similar to the Soulstice--in the way that a machine was created to steal all souls, another would be created now to spread Darkness. Shadow Sabre did something similar in RQ.)

The next four shots emphasize what seems to be some of our new group of main characters.

We see the Purple Leader in his home. Him coming into the main cast will be very interesting, as I'm sure it will give us more opportunities to learn about the histories with people like the Sorcerer and Phantasia, strong links to the Soulstice. I'm sure this knowledge will be vital to the fight.

Now this next photo--I can't exactly tell what's going on here? It appears to be Corrupt's lab? When the exposure and brightness are edited, I can't see any details. But this is 1000% Corrupt is just is trust frfrfrfrfrfrfrfrfrfrffrfr Corrupt is alive

The shot then switches to an Indigo and an unidentifiable Aquamarine who seems to be imbued with light energy, given the white eye. I assumed this could be Aaron, but his soul got stolen. Who knows? The Indigo is the Doctor Indigo, I would think--given the coat and monocle, but he didn't have a design in Season 2, so I'm unsure. Both of these could be completely new characters.

And now, Dimension facing off with the Soulstice. It seems that Dimension will play a much bigger role now and actually put in the work for once. I guess that was his final straw? Or maybe the season will start and he will still show absolutely no concern.

A couple of interesting shots of Light and Soulless show up after this.

In a similar fashion to the Season 2 intro, Light walks towards the camera and glitches into his other forms, this one being Soulless. It only emphasizes his apparent new role in the season.

After this, we see a standoff between the main cast and the main opposition. Light, Professor, Dimension, Purple, and...a strange new variant of Assistant. It makes me think of the assistant robot from A Dark Soul, which was also themed around light. In the beginning of the trailer (and in the thumbnail), we only see the Assistant as a head. I guess he got repaired, and Light was a major factor playing in it.

I'd also like to point out how odd the new Sculk Steves look. They have gray streaks, like light energy. Since Corrupt was absorbed by the Soulstice, I imagine that the light crystal he held became of high use to the Soulstice, allowing it to power up these Steves like this.

The patterns on the ends of their limbs also look much bigger/brighter/saturated, or maybe its just the lighting--like soul flames instead of the typical sculk steve pattern.

The Steve standing above in the second picture catches my eye, though. It seems to be a "normal" being, and even appears to be holding something if you look closely.

Right by the head there. This figure is also standing closest to the Soulstice, so they must be important. Could it be Corrupt? Well if you watch a few more seconds--

Right there. We see Light fighting with who appears to be that figure. But that sword... We have seen that sword before!

Corrupt's sword.

We never saw Corrupt disappear when the Soulstice found him. It's more than probable that he simply could have just absorbed the light energy from him, used it to power up the sculk steves and other operations, and left Corrupt weakened. But what purpose would he have even leaving him alive? The Soulstice has everything it needs now, right?

Light found Toxin, too. And with a potion effect? He seems weakened. Perhaps Void has abandoned him and Light will team up with him? He already seemed to be cracking during his fight with Light in the forest where his prior identity as Soren was revealed. Is it finally time we get Soren back? Or will he still be evil?

The next few shots depict a battle between Light and Void, seemingly at his new base of operations. I'd put photos, but I'm almost out of space, and I want to keep this all in one post. Plus, there isn't a lot to analyze there.

The final shots of the trailer are some of my favorite ones.

There's a good bit to break down here.

We start out by seeing Light's cursed form, except his curse appears to have spread greatly. I've also just realized that he doesn't have his soul-afflicted eye in this form. Images of Purple Leader, Soulstice, Professor, Soulless, and Assistant are not surprising--we already know of their larger roles. I believe that's Corrupt again in the 5th shift. As for the 8th, I'm a bit confused. I don't think we know who this person is. However, the purple belt definitely brings up a few ideas, even if they're stretches. Could we meet a new Purple Steve--maybe even Phantasia?? I doubt that's the case, as it seems pretty outlandish. The Yellow Leader being present actually makes a lot of sense as well. His Darkness should give him resistance to the Soulstice.

BUT, I'm really focusing in on those last three. Louis, Cliff, and,, Seer.

We saw the Elites' souls taken. Clearly, they find their way back to the land of the living eventually (and with some sick new redesigns.) Louis doesn't change much, but Cliff appears to now be entirely a Light Steve. Which brings up another thought--if he is now 100% light, does this mean that he is completely purged of Darkness? Is his Shadow gone? Is his shadow the reason he had to become fully light?

And then there's Seer. There's no doubt that this is him. My friend @chaoticcyprus brought up this photo:

We saw this shot during the semi-finale when Void was battling the Soul Eater. The outfit aligns perfectly, except now his hood is down, and he seems to have been set free from whatever chains held him previously.

But how would Seer and Void separate? I assume it would have something to do with Corrupt's final blow on Void.

Corrupt dealt an absolutely MASSIVE amount of power onto his opponent. I'm sure that the sheer amount of light energy could be enough to somehow split Void and Seer apart. It would explain Void's sudden spike in power and authority that he seems to have in the next season.

As for any final thoughts,,, I can't think of much else for now.

But I'm looking forward to hearing what everyone else has to say, and also what the team presents for Catalyst!

#ruined reality #The trailer was genuinely sick #VERY much excited to see what they cook up #But i swear #I SWEAR #IF THOSE LEADERS DONT GET BROGUHT BACK........#IM GOING ON MY DOXXING ARC.................................#.#Anywho #Very peak #If anything is contradicting in this post i apologize #This was my live analysis #I am not proofreading 1300+ words...

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syrena-del-mar · 10 months

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Kawi's Journey with Self-Worth and Pisaeng's Reassurance

I don't know how to put it into words, but there is something so nice about Pisaeng always sticking to his guns about what interested him about Kawi was simply that he found Kawi to be cute.

Yes, there are millions of cute people in the world, but it was specifically Kawi's cuteness that intrigued Pisaeng. There was no ulterior reason that he found himself into Kawi, there was no deeper meaning. It's not like Kawi needed to do something to prove himself worthy of Pisaeng's love (even if Kawi thought that he had to.) Instead, Pisaeng was, initially, simply attracted to Kawi and that had been enough.

It's a simple reason that I think that Kawi will always have to grapple with for the rest of his life, probably because even though he may have found a sense of peace and serenity in his life after all the time-travelling, he'll likely still have some minor struggles with his self-worth. Love is not a fix-all, and (again) like what I'm positive has become synonymous with @bengiyo's brand here on BL reviews, "There's no magical dick. It doesn't fix." Even if it happens to belong to Pisaeng. When you have low self-esteem and issues with you self-worth, even when you take the most pro-active methods of care to combat these ideas, a part of it will always remain. Some days will be more of a struggle than others. So while his relationship with Pisaeng will not magically fix insecurities, the fact that Pisaeng is there to reassure him is incredibly important. I really doubt that Kawi will ever be able to fully understand why it was simply his cuteness that attracted Pisaeng, but the constant reminders are necessary in his journey to self-acceptance.

Combine that with the fact that Pisaeng comes from an uber-rich (and political) family, and Kawi spent ten years dealing with very little self-worth, it makes sense that Kawi will never fully accept it, even ten-years down the line into their relationship. Yet, the fact that Pisaeng's answer remains constant and never changes into something deeper than he just found Kawi cute is so critical in allowing Kawi to rebuild his trampled self-esteem.

While I think that compliments like that could potentially come across as either insincere or even shallow, it does more good than harm for Kawi. He spent ten years alone, in his small apartment with no significant social connection and his last true connection (his father) dead. He was detached from human relationships and he placed higher value on what he could bring to the table, doing so he shattered his own self-esteem because he had a sincere belief that he had nothing good to offer.

Pisaeng's consistent and persistent insistence that he adored Kawi due to his cuteness, at a time when Kawi believed that he wasn't worth much, is so important in ensuring Kawi that becomes aware of the fact that human relationships aren't solely transactional. His presence doesn't mean that he has to offer more solely to be loved and particularly a recipient of Pisaeng's love. Pisaeng's answer serves as a reminder of that, even if it's not said or understood outright.

It's a subtle reminder, a reassurance of sorts, to Kawi that he has worth even when he's not aware of it or when he doesn't recognize it in himself. His worth isn't tied to material objects or titles that are expected in fully transactional, interested, relationships. Rather it serves its purpose by becoming a verbal notice to Kawi that for Pisaeng, Kawi will always be enough just by being himself, that he always finds him cute, and that's was enough reason for him to fall in love with him.

Kawi's journey consisted so much of learning how to live in the moment, of learning the importance in actually making decisions, because there's only one thing certain about life: time moves on with or without us. When we live in such a capitalistic society, we often tie our self-worth to our social capital, the achievements that we make, the people we know. In turn, we can end up neglecting and stepping all-over our self-esteem in the moments that we don't reach those "social tiers" and start believing that in turn we have nothing to offer. When you let yourself believe that you're worthless and time moves on, you end up being left behind.

Kawi is worth more than his accolades and job titles, more than any achievements that he may receive. His worthiness derives from his authentic self and who he is as a person. He's loved for being Kawi. It's enough for Pisaeng to find him cute, because Kawi is enough and will always be enough. That constant reassurance is critical in shaping Kawi, allowing him to find his happiness and peace in life. He's now surrounded by the people that he loves and who love him back. He's no longer alone.

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writingjourney · 1 month

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Ibi I have a really important (and not at all silly question) who would each Papas favourite BG3 character be?

this wins best question award easily, the crossover we need!!!

The Papas' Favorite BG3 Characters:

Primo: Well, it's easy to say (fanon) Primo relates most to Halsin and I think he does, a gentle man who loves nature, not adhering to the rules of society when it comes to love and existing in general, but I actually think if we forget about the nature thing for a while who he would feel drawn to is Lae'zel. He comes from a time where a more authoritarian approach was normal and people started to question their God/faith more and more and whether He truly offers the salvation they all crave (and perhaps turned to Satanism and his own Church). That's pretty much Lae'zel's path, a very inspirational story in terms of abuse, faith, rebellion and finding your own purpose.

Secondo: He relates most to Wyll, definitely, heavy expectations from his father to fulfil a certain role he did not choose, dealing with the emotional neglect and ultimately being cast aside after a perceived mistake but still working hard no matter what. However, I think his favourite would be Minthara. He is a bad bitch, he loves women, he enjoys a strong, morally grey female character and he would appreciate her dry cynical sense of humour. She thought her purpose was serving her God but realised that she can easily be cast aside, just like he was by the clergy. And yes, she comes across as cool and uncaring but is actually very warm and vulnerable when you know her, reminds me of someone.

Terzo: I think people would assume Astarion for the flamboyance and dramatics but I actually think he would not gravitate towards these superficial traits and instead relate a lot to characters like Shadowheart (or Orin) who were forced into roles they did have a say in and tried to appeal to those who put them there. They're following these dogmatic rules until they realise they will never get what they need, that the promises are hollow. And like Shadowheart, who realises that she's been lied to her whole life, that she can in fact become better, he also tried to bring about positive change (and was punished for it like Shadowheart is by Shar).

Copia: I want to say that he relates most to Gale, a bit awkward at times, niche interests (or not so niche) that he loves to learn about and the unexpected Casanova of the group with more confidence than people give him credit for (and skill). I also think he would enjoy using magic, if he had the chance (Fireball accidents included). However, I also think he would be very drawn to the strong female characters, especially Karlach. A badass woman who is kind despite the horrors and did not get corrupted by the evil that happened to her throughout her life (which he is fighting for but in the end he might win or lose the battle, depending on other people's choices).

#asks #bg3 #the band ghost #the band ghost headcanons #tbf i think primo and secondo could swap like either of them would enjoy laezel and minthara i think

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skamenglishsubs · 1 year

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Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 2, Episode 6

Final episode, and we're picking up the morning right after last episode. The curtains are still closed though, good for them!

Subtext: The something Simon needs to take care of is of course the situationship with Marcus.

Subtext: Real subtle music choice there, show. This is where August decides to solve the problem of Simon going to the police in his own twisted ways.

Lost in translation: August meekly asked for some changes to the speech last episode, whereas Wilhelm just changed it without asking for permission. Here's what it says, with his changes: Hillerska 120 years Your Majesty, dear mom. And dear Hillis. It's an honour to be standing here today speaking to you - not only as Crown Prince, but as your classmate. Hillerska welcomed me during a very difficult but meaningful time in my life. (He's scratched out "Eders" at the top, which is an archaic way of saying and spelling "ers", which in turn is a special version of the plural second person possessive pronoun "er", which is only used in a formal address like this.)

Lost in translation: The second cue card has more changes: Hillerska isn't just the place where we are taught to be good citizens so that in the future we can shoulder the responsibilities that has been imposed on us. It is also a home. Hillerska became a home to me, just like it was for my dear mother, and my brother before me... and for many of you. You have become family. The school motto is "take responsibility for your legacy" "feel your responsibility for the legacy", be proud of your history, pass on the traditions to the next generation.

Cinematography: The show normally only uses these fourth wall breaks to bookend each season, but all occasions have been when Wilhelm has been making a public speech or felt observed. Here he's practising a public speech, and the show uses the fourth wall break to really bring home this point.

Culture: The show says that this scene takes place just a couple of days after the Valentine's ball, which puts us in the middle of February. But we can tell by the blooming cherry tree in the background that this scene was actually shot in mid April. This is absolutely not what February looks like in the Stockholm area in Sweden, which made me super confused about the timeline.

Subtext: It absolutely is about Wilhelm, but Marcus got it completely wrong anyway, Simon doesn't like Wilhelm because he is a prince, he likes him despite him being a prince. Oh, and it's a nice touch to separate them physically with an electric fence, to really show their distance.

Subtext: No, the person who feels like a victim here is actually Marcus. He doesn't fit in with the rich kids at the school, and now he thinks that they "stole" Simon away from him. Whatever, who cares, he has served his narrative purpose, byyyeeeeee!

Subtext: Loyalty is a huge theme in this episode, so we start this cursed subplot with a nice long opening shot of the motto of the Forest Ridge house, to remind us of how important loyalty is to the upper classes.

Subtext: Everyone tries to manipulate Wilhelm by invoking his dead brother, of course August does the same.

Subtext: So why does Alexander side with August? Wilhelm actually treated Alexander like shit, he threw him under the bus to protect Simon last season, and he feigned ignorance in the first episode of this season when Alexander came back to school, which means the Forest Ridge oath doesn't mean much to him. Alexander feels completely betrayed, because Wilhelm should have been loyal to his house brothers. August on the other hand promises him loyalty. If Alexander takes the blame, then the future king of Sweden, August, will owe him a huge personal favour, and that's just worth a lot more to him and his family than the minor inconvenience of a criminal trial. He's got money, and the full backing of the royal court, he's never gonna go to jail, jail is for poor people!

Subtext: ...like Simon, and his unemployed substance-abusing dad. Simon would not be treated gently by the justice system for dealing drugs, Wilhelm can't really intervene on his behalf, and the royal court wants Simon gone, so they won't help out either, which is why August's threat is very, very real.

Subtext: August has constantly been trying to impose upper-class values on Wilhelm, all the way since season 1, and that includes all the lies and secrets and cover-ups. He truly believes rug-sweeping is the best way of handling the situation, and can't really understand why Wilhelm won't play the game like the rest of them do.

Subtext: We know that Wilhelm's love language is touch, so August touching him is a violation that he reacts very strongly to, punching his arm away.

Culture: Clay pigeon shooting or trap shooting started evolving as a sport over 150 years ago, when upper class shooting clubs realized what a bother it was having to collect a ton of live pigeons when a gentleman simply wanted to practice hunting for a bit, so they developed cheaper clay targets instead. The birds are made out of an easily breakable hard clay, and the launcher is controlled with a foot pedal. The shotgun is loaded with birdshot, which is pretty harmless for humans at long range.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to S1E1, when August told Wilhelm that they could get away with anything, including murder.

Blink and you miss it: August glances at Sara, so Detective Felice quickly figures out that it was her before she admits it.

Blink and you miss it: Simon is actually smiling and enjoying seeing August humiliated by Wilhelm.

Subtext: Also a throwback to season 1, when Sara gave Simon shit for "always wanting to give people a second chance". Now she's doing the exact same thing, and August is ironically just as unworthy of it as Sara and Simon's dad was.

Subtext: Another theme this season has been about people protecting themselves, while claiming to protect others, so here's Sara accusing August of doing exactly that.

Lost in translation: Simon says "Snälla, jag orkar inte", which can't be directly translated, because English is missing the incredibly useful Scandinavian verb orka. It means having the physical or mental strength or stamina or energy to do something. When it's negated like here, it can range in meaning from not having enough stamina to run a long race, or not having enough strength to lift something heavy, or not being able to eat more food, or not wanting to deal with a person, or not having the energy to handle a stressful situation. If you no longer orkar something, you're done, you're finished, you're too tired, you're too weak, you've had enough.

Subtext: Again, Wilhelm's love language is touch, so he's trying to comfort Simon the only way he knows.

Culture: Kaggeholms Slott, the main shooting location for the show was built in the early 1700's, so this is some kind of detail from the earliest years of the main building.

Blink and you miss it: Simon hasn't eaten a single clementine this season because Rosh has been hogging all of them!!!

Culture: Linda's tag says "Sjuksköterska" - nurse, so she obviously works in healthcare. She's also wearing scrubs, so she must have taken off directly from work to accompany Simon to the police. Also note that being a regular nurse in Sweden is a pretty low status job because you'll just be a grunt worker at some hospital or care home, so this fits the social class of the Eriksson family.

Cinematography: I think this is the last amount of colour Simon has ever worn, signalling that he's not feeling himself, he's completely defeated.

Subtext: Damn, I got hungry just looking at this food. What's going on here is that the school is hosting the royal family and treating them to a nice private fancy dinner, and they've even got their own china monogrammed with the school logo. By the bottle we can also tell that Wilhelm is being served alcohol, it's a cider from Danish Somersby. And from the background dialogue, we also learn that both his parents went to Hillerska at the same time, where they presumably met.

Subtext: If it's so important to be able to talk about your emotions, why is your son so bad at it? It couldn't be the case that he learned to suppress his feelings instead from his parents, right?

Subtext: Oh look, it's the theme of the episode yet again! In Forest Ridge the loyalty is explicit in the house motto, and it's of course a big part of the girls' house as well.

Subtext: Well that's a big fat lie, the most obvious secret is the one Stella is harbouring, but they're all keeping lots of little secrets from each other. Good thing Sara learned to keep her mouth shut at least so as not to out Stella.

Subtext: Colour theory for the show tells us that red symbolizes the love between Wilhelm and Simon, and here Wilhelm is deciding between his love for Simon, or fulfilling his royal duty. Since he's currently facing away from the red light, and looking at Erik's old cigarette case, he's leaning towards duty.

Subtext: Colour theory is in full swing over at Simon's place as well, him and Ayub are having a late night videochat about Simon having to decide between his love for Wilhelm or his principles. However, his lava lamp turns red just as the scene ends, showing us what his final decision is.

Blink and you miss it: Sara cleaned out her room and left the Manor House, but she left behind the riding pants the other girls gave her for her birthday.

Culture: If you've read my post on royal names and titles, you know that Ludvig ought to be a prince, and ought to be styled "His Royal Highness", so I'm not sure why he's consistently being referred to as Duke Ludvig in this season. Oh, and if the reigning monarch is a king, he and his queen are styled "Your Majesties" together. But if the reigning monarch is a queen, only she is styled "Your Majesty", while her husband is styled "Your Royal Highness", because blatant sexism.

Subtext: August really thought he'd be their equal for this event, but he's always being put in place and shown he is less than.

Cinematography: Spot the character who really doesn't want to be in this photo shoot!

Subtext: Back in season 1 when August said he knew everyone's name, he wasn't joking, he actually does remember people's names!

Oh, and there's a little lost in translation here as well. August says "Tack för senast", which is a ubiquitous Scandinavian politeness phrase which means "Thanks for last time". You're supposed to use this every time you talk to someone after having gone to some event together, and especially if it was something that the other person hosted and invited you to.

Blink and you miss it: Nils and Vincent are hilariously taking the absolute piss out of August for enjoying standing in the receiving line for the jubilee.

Subtext: Easy there, Don Corleone! August simply overpaid for the horse, thinking Sara would love him for yet another material thing, but what she really wanted him to do was to change and come clean about the sex tape. The horse isn't gonna sway her from leaving him.

Cinematography: As I was taking screencaps for this post, I stumbled on this scene showing Sara leaving Hillerska, but my only question is who the hell that dude is? Why is he in the shot? Why is he there? Is he an extra who is supposed to be there, or is he a random person who was just happening to wait for the real world bus right here right now? It doesn't make any sense in universe, because every goddamn adult in the vicinity is busy with the jubilee thing. Why is this guy not attending? WHO IS HE? I NEED ANSWERS!

Subtext: Through the magic of literary analysis our couple grew closer and came to understand one another better, so Simon chose to compromise his principles out of love for Wilhelm. Oh, and there totally is another way, but it requires Wilhelm to compromise his duty...

Culture: I've already gushed about how good the costuming is on this show, because Wilhelm is wearing an impeccably tailored school uniform that fits him perfectly, while Simon is wearing an ill-fitting second hand uniform. You can tell because Wilhelm's uniform is showing the correct amount of shirt sleeve outside his jacket, between one and two centimetres, while Simon's jacket is completely covering his shirt sleeves.

Subtext: This piece of perfect poetic cinema is of course a mirror to the ending of season 1 when Wilhelm tells Simon that he loves him. This time, Simon says it back for the first time.

Cinematography: I know it's a coat room and not a closet, but close enough, and when Jan-Olof tries to hurry Wilhelm along and get him to stop talking to Simon, Wilhelm responds by literally coming out of the closetcoat room, foreshadowing the end of the episode.

Subtext: Literally as the next speaker, figuratively as the next crown prince.

Subtext: Oh no. Oh no. Oh no no no no! Sara hasn't talked to Simon since the shooting range scene, so she doesn't know why Simon never reported August, or that August threatened to take revenge by reporting where the drugs originally came from. I guess we need to setup some season 3 drama?

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm appears to change his mind at the exact moment the principal says "replace".

Subtext: We've seen Wilhelm struggle all season with his duty, and not being able to put on a public persona, but in this moment it's on full blast, and a look that tells August to sit the fuck down again, because this is his job, he's not gonna be replaced any time soon.

Subtext: This is one of the lines that Wilhelm added to his speech, and it's the complete opposite of what he thought of Hillerska in the very first episode, where he saw it as some kind of punishment to have to live there for three years.

Subtext: Oh look, the tradition theme™! Let's just kick it, stab it, and drown it, while the cameras are rolling!

Cinematography: Cue the camera panning to the people experiencing said mass panic.

Subtext: The MVP of the season, Boris my man, enjoying the fruits of his labour. The unsung hero we all deserved! I bet though he's been secretly plotting the downfall of the monarchy this entire time!

Subtext: Just like this song played at the end of episode 4, showing what Wilhelm was feeling, this time it shows what Simon is feeling for Wilhelm. It's also a nice parallel to season 1, where the Revolution song was used in both episode 4 and 6.

Subtext: The lyrics are a bit on the nose like most of this season, but Simon said the he loved Wilhelm, and in return Wilhelm shows Simon that he loves him, by coming out, and not keeping their relationship a secret any longer, which was the main conflict of the entire season.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm is always comparing himself to his brother and trying to live up to his memory, so after making this choice, he quickly glances skywards as if to check in with him. Yeah, you're alright kid. Erik would be so very proud of you. I'm not crying, you're crying! Damn allergies! I swear, this goddamn show. 😭😭😭

Cinematography: Finally we book-end this season as well with Wilhelm breaking the fourth wall and staring at us. But this time we see a hint of a smile as he's doing it, because this time is the first time he's really in control of his life, doing what he wants, and not just doing what he's told or what he's expected to do.

#young royals #young royals analysis #young royals subtext

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