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mandrs-writes · 4 years ago

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41 Reason why I ship Ereri

Eren and Levi is my all-time favorite ship. These two mean the world to me. And while I am not under any illusion that their relationship is canon, they’re canon in my heart and I want to share with you all the many different reasons why they’re so fucking shippable. Here are my 41 reasons 😊

1. Similarities in their past -- both willing to kill for the ones they love

Eren saves Mikasa by killing two men when he’s just a kid

Levi was trained to kill at a young age. It’s implied that he killed the people that hurt his dear friend Isabel in ACWNR

2. Momma’s boys -- definitely a parallel between them in these two shots.

3. Both had to watch their mom die and understand the pain of losing the people they love

4. Parallels between Levi, Isabel, and Farlan, and Eren, Mikasa, and Armin -- both are looking up at the stars and dreaming of something more

5. Eren has always admired Captain Levi. Just look how stars truck he is 🤩

6.The first time he meets Levi, he sees the Wings of Freedom on his back. The framing of this shot shows that Levi represents freedom for Eren

7. Levi is intrigued and impressed by the fire/determination when he first meets Eren. He is a spark of hope for Levi.

8. Despite many people claiming this scene is ‘abusive’ it is far from it. While it is brutal in nature, Levi’s aggressive display was the only way for him to save Eren from being handed over to the MP. Erwin knew that Levi would need to show the courtroom that he was strong enough to ‘handle’ Eren in order for the MP to give Eren over to the SC.

It’s even explained to Eren after the fact that it was a necessary show of power in order to save him.

It wasn’t something Levi wanted to do -- it’s clear he feels bad about how he handled Eren by asking him if he resented him.

Despite everything, Eren understands why Levi had to do what he did and admits to not being resentful towards Levi, who ultimately appears relieved by that admission

9. They catch each other staring/giving each other eyes 😏 showing that they have an innate interest in each other

10. Eren is surprised that Captain Levi is so keen to following orders from the higher ups. When Petra tells him about his past, he’s shocked and wonders why Levi would join be in the Survey Corps. Eren definitely shows interest and curiosity in this scene and appears to want to know more about his mysterious Captain

11. They’re super cute together 🥺 Just look at theeeem

12. Levi is caught smirking at Eren when talking about him being creepy. Okay buddy 😏

13. Levi sees that Eren is a monster and still accepts him anyway. He doesn’t judge or condemn him for being the way that he is. In the visual novel “Burning Bright in the Forest of the Night”, Levi even refers to him as “a beautiful monster”

14. He always gives Eren a choice, allowing him to make his own decisions, and be his own person. He’s only ever encouraged Eren to be true to himself. He’s never tried to change him

Even when Eren is struggling with accessing his father’s memories and Hange is bombarding him with questions, Levi defends his strange behavior

15. Levi defends Eren based on his “intuition” when everyone else sees him as a monster needing to be put down. Instead, he trusts Eren, standing between him and his squad.

16. Levi visibly panics when he hears Eren transform during the Female Titan arc. He’s clearly worried about him and changes gears to try and save him

17. Levi feels like he failed by protecting Eren and he is visibly distraught when Mikasa calls him out on it.

18. Levi makes up for his failure by only caring about saving Eren, whereas Mikasa seems more interested in killing the Female Titan. He has to talk her down

19. Levi is able to motivate Eren and give him confidence when he’s feeling unsure about himself

20. Levi helps mold Eren into the person he becomes later in the story. Eren obviously looks up to Levi a lot and learns from him in more ways than one

21. Levi gives Eren the power/motivation to choose again, encouraging him to believe in himself.

22. They both have righteous anger

23. Eren is super determined to impress Levi and is visibly upset when he fails to meet his expectations

(Just look at the gay panic)

24. Eren unintentionally insults Levi when he calls Rod Reiss a tiny old man. While Levi appears unfazed, Eren visibly panics, clearly showing how much he cares about Levi’s opinion of him

Also I just love this scene. It’s funnyyy

25. Levi shows concern for Eren on more than one occasion

26. Levi has a thing for Eren’s ass... apparently

Just casually kicking his butt

and talking about it 😏

27. Eren isn’t afraid to stand up to Levi, despite his harsh exterior. This just goes to show that Eren understands that Levi is more compassionate and empathetic than he lets people believe

28. While Levi is conflicted about who to save with the Titan serum, he ultimately picks Armin.

One of the reasons he choses Armin is because of what Eren says about how Armin is good and has dreams, which reminds Levi of the moment that they sat under the stars and talked about the ocean. Levi shows compassion for Eren and his friends

29. Levi gets upset when Erwin tells him to protect the horses instead of Eren

30. Even after losing his best friend, Levi comforts Eren and his friends, letting them know that he does not regret his decision, encouraging them to not regret it as well. Despite being in pain himself, he’s a pillar of strength and comfort for Eren and the others

31. Levi is sympathetic towards Eren’s situation after the Battle of Shiganshina and lets him out early despite his insubordination

32. Levi is disappointed in Eren after what he did in Marley and shows just how upset/affected he was by him leaving by kicking him on the airship. The scene feels very personal and while I could go on and explain why I think it’s incredibly meaningful for their relationship, snkception does a great job of explaining it. You can read their full post here

33. Levi is a protective boyfriend

34. When Eren keeps an important secret, Levi tells them they’ll talk about it later. There’s something incredibly personal about the way he says it that implies it’ll be a private conversation amongst other things

35. Their height difference though 😍

36. Levi is obviously important to Eren, since he shows up in his memory shards

37. Levi is visibly upset when his fellow soldiers talk about feeding Eren to someone else. After everything they’d been through, that’s the last thing that Levi wants.

Also, I think it’s important to note that when Levi remembers Eren, he doesn’t remember him as a monster, despite calling everyone talking about him that way. He remembers Eren the first time they met, when Eren was helpless and merely human

38. Despite his promise made early in the story to kill Eren if he ever went rogue or lost control, he tries desperately to come up with another solution, anyway out of killing Eren

39. When they realize that killing Eren might be the only way, Levi is visibly distraught

In paths, he is the only one on his knees, he’s so tired, beaten down, and lost over what to do that he’s unable to stand and hold himself up on the airship

40. There was so much that Levi wanted to tell Eren... what it was, I can only speculate. But something tells me he wanted to tell Eren everything, including his feelings for him

41. Lastly, they’re opposites. The sun and the moon, summer and winter, fire and ice, yin and yang. Eren is fiery, energetic and passionate and Levi is cool, calm, and introspective. Their dynamic is truly beautiful and I genuinely believe Levi is one of the few people who understand Eren completely and accepts him without judgment

#ereri #aot #snk #spoilers #levi ackerman #eren jaeger #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren x levi #i love them so much #riren #snk manga spoilers

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helena-thessa · 4 years ago

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Hi Helena! Big fan of your writing here🥺♥️ Your rivamika fics are my safe space 😭 (if you have time to answer) i’d love to know when you first started shipping them, why, and what made you continue to love this ship (or anything else to do with your journey as an RM shipper)? i love your characterisation of both levi and mikasa individually, but even more so, your portrayal of their dynamic as a couple, which is why i wanted to ask so badly ☺️ x

Hey anon! Oh woah, first of all, thank you so much. Second of all, oh god, you probably shouldn't have handed me the mic. heh 😅

I’m afraid to look at the word count of this response, I’m sure it’s much more than you bargained for, but I appreciate the question and enjoyed thinking through my response (: Most importantly, I’m so glad you find my stories as a safe space. It’s really an honor. Thank you for sharing with me 🖤🖤

TL; DR As a longtime reader, writer and lover of stories and story-telling, by being someone who pays attention to how stories are crafted and deliberately developed from beginning to end, I sincerely thought Isayama was setting up rivamika as an endgame relationship. So, I read into and interpreted meaning out of ALL their interactions and became deeply invested.

I don’t necessarily ship them cause of the parallels, age gap, enemies to lover trope, height difference, or some of those common reasons and/or kinks. I’m more basic and boring than that. I love the concept of them coming together as though it’s inevitable.

They both are unbelievably strong, selfless, and have suffered so much loss— so, no one else could truly understand them as well as they can understand each other. They both probably would have always settled for a stable, simple life, and been alone and lonely even without realizing it— instead, they find each other, and realize what it means to actually no longer be alone, to do more than just survive. It’s this understated bond, as opposed to a dramatic and passionate romance, that I envision in them and that I love so much.

Then, the passion, heat, the romantic "spark"— I think that’s an added bonus, the cherry on top, the perfect final puzzle piece. They’re both so physically capable, can speak through their actions, and don’t show much need or capacity for emotional/ verbal communication, so the ability to connect with each other through physical intimacy and mind-blowing sex seems like another given.

Still, at the end of the day, for me it comes back to their ability to fully depend on each other, to the inevitability. Not like some soulmate trope where they 'have no choice' in it, but like the stars aligned to prove it's right. How each of them have only one other person on the whole planet who could see and understand them, to be on par with them, to make them realize there’s more to life than settling and surviving, and they happen to find it in each other.

You asked, I rambled 😅 Here’s a breakdown of my thought process in my rivamika journey. For those who make it to the end or want to skip to the end, I'll finish with the excerpt of the very first rivamika scene I felt compelled to to write.

I've tried before to re-watch and remember the exact scenes, exact moments, that initially captured my full attention, but I guess it was all of them, the gradual and cumulative compilation of their earliest interactions.

Mikasa always appearing cool and indifferent, and paying no attention whatsoever to others fawning over, like Jean initially falling for her, but then her strongly reacting over Levi in the courtroom showed how uniquely capable he was at getting under her skin.

Of course, the scene in the forest chasing the Female Titan was a critical one. I think of that as the first time both Levi and Mikasa were truly able to see the other's strength, mental and physical. And for them, orphans and trauma survivors who have suffered extensive loss, I think that seeing strength in another person made them feel less alone. Less alone in a deep, quiet but cataclysm, life-altering sort of way, even if not a romantic one. Like they didn't know it was something they didn't have, something they didn't expect to get from life, but then found it with each other.

(Even when we found out Levi was an Ackerman, I was disappointed if it meant they were immediate relatives, but willing to accept it wouldn't be a romantic end to loneliness, it would be a familial end to loneliness. But... the author never explored that. Not once.)

In that forest scene, manga and anime, the way that Levi pauses to really look and see Mikasa and think about who she is, what she’s gone through, and how strong and dedicated she is now— that was a defining moment. It was also a visual demonstration of Levi breaking character, from aloof and ruthless, to considering and curious. I thought Yams was showing both of them do that on purpose.

Then, Levi getting hurt because of Mikasa in that scene felt like another clue. Sure, it was while saving Eren, and sure, it could have been meant to humanize super-soldier Levi, or sure, it could have been another aspect of how Mikasa rushing into things over Eren ends up hurting other people that later changes in her character development, but it felt like a very pointed statement about Mikasa being a vulnerability for Levi. And that's swoon-worthy, right? Most of us have been exposed to and conditioned by stories about how special and romantic it is to be the one and only girl who can make an otherwise disinterested or unattainable guy actually pay attention to her, and so admittedly I fall right for it.

I’m sure I’m forgetting plenty, but the opening of season 3 felt like confirmation. When Levi figures out Kenny's behind things and entrusts Mikasa with instructions to share with the others, instructions about fighting people instead of titans that ultimately everyone else besides her struggles with, and when Mikasa lets Levi hold her back from chasing after Eren, her most important way of trusting and having faith in Levi, I honestly took that as cues from the author that rivamika was endgame. I let myself get truly invested from then on. That’s that understated bond I was referring to. To me, that unspoken but undeniable trust is the most important dynamic.

Seeing them fight together or fight similarly has always been fun and powerful and fulfilling.

I'm newer to the snk club. I was originally an anime-only fan and started watching in fall 2019, I think. I wasn't on tumblr, twitter, or anything else to see fandom discourse. So, I didn't know that the rooftop scene of Mikasa fighting Levi over the serum was such a staple for our ship until much later. I love the scene just like many do for all the reasons we do, but I don't think the actual scene was pivotal for me, so much as it's aftermath. I thought it represented two things.

One, it was an important marker in Levi's characterization. Hands-down one of the most striking scenes to me is the one where Levi is in the alley, somber and alone, listening in on Eren, Armin, and Mikasa talking together. It artfully shows his longing for hope and connection. So, when Levi chose Armin for the serum, that represented Levi choosing hope. And when Mikasa ultimately gave up fighting Levi and didn't choose Armin, which Armin finds out about later on, I see that as an important marker in Mikasa's development. It puts a wedge between her and Armin/Eren [Armin, because he knows she would have let him die, and Eren, because Armin is too special to him and he couldn't look at her the same way after realizing she would have let him die]. That distance between her and her childhood friends is one I don't think could ever be healed completely, one of those painful lessons in growing up. By doing that, it then also puts a distance in Mikasa's own childhood self to her current self. I thought that matured her and separated her out in a way that was another clue toward eventual rivamika developments.

That's a whole other conversation on Mikasa, but I’ll stay on track. Her love for Armin was absolutely authentic and fierce, but at the end of the day, at the core of her being, she chose survival over hope. Meanwhile, Levi chose hope over survival. To me, that was soft, fertile ground for the reasons why eventually, if/when Mikasa found hope and chose hope, that could directly tie together with her inevitably in coming together with Levi. Again, less butterflies and fireworks, but more natural and in a way that was just a given.

I wrote Beyond the Walls before reading the manga from the Marley Arc and on, so that's why most of that story is her journey into embracing that hope. *manga spoilers* There's a lot of meta, criticism and talk about Mikasa's silent, off-screen and subtle style of character development in the Marley Arc and afterward. I won't go down that road, I'm still processing the end of the manga to be honest, but I think it's fair to say she does eventually end up choosing hope over survival when she lets go of Eren and saves humanity instead. I love the “Stay with Me” line and think it’s perfect; a simple but profound display of trust and their deep-rooted bond in a really understated way. *end manga spoilers*

Here's something I always wanted to talk about in full but haven't. It honestly reads to me like Yams was building toward rivamika, and didn’t do anything to stop that until too late. There are tools authors can use to ensure we stop shipping a pair or start shipping a new one; love triangles are commonly used in every artistic medium and we’ve all been persuaded by these tools. But Yams didn’t use these tools to make sure readers didn’t feel convinced by rivamika. For all the reasons I listed above, more I'm forgetting, and for the following:

If he wanted us to think they were family and it would be incest, he should have added in a conversation between them realizing they were (close) family and that they weren't the only ones left in their biological family like they thought. But he didn't.

If he wanted us to think it was completely inappropriate between a child-and-adult and student-and-teacher, then he could have done something to ensure Mikasa looked childish or Levi looked older, but no. They barely look ten years apart. I do think it's unacceptable and that there's a power imbalance between a child-and-adult relationship regardless of that, and that there can't be true consent when one is a superior and another a subordinate, so I personally age-up Mikasa in my head and try to handle his position of power responsibly in my writings... but the point being, by the end of canon, there's no inappropriate or non-consensual romance between them, yet there's a lot of history and chemistry that could naturally lead to an age-appropriate and consensual relationship. If Yams didn't want us to think so, he could have made it more clear that there were reasons it wouldn't happen.

The only thing that makes sense to me is the author planned on rivamika endgame but was shamed/pressured out of it (either internally or due to others) OR that the author somehow accidentally created such vibrant chemistry and an incredible dynamic between them. Like, he didn't put enough convincing substance of eremika in, didn't make Levi look old enough, didn’t have one of them do something unforgivable in the other’s eyes, etc. Those are some of those tools he could have used. Romance was never a key component in snk. And since we now know Yams planned or needed eremika endgame for sake of plot and the conclusion of the manga, I personally think he didn't know what to do with the riveting rivamika substance and chemistry being much more convincing to readers. Once he had them so well built-up, maybe the only option he felt he had was to just stop putting the characters together. We get little-to-no rivamika interaction, platonic or practical, after season 3 all the way up until the very end. But there was so much of it beforehand ?? So, it simply doesn't make sense. I think the author just straight-up cut any and all interactions out between them because it was too convincing and moving, more convincing and substantial than eremika. But, as the end of canon shows, we needed to have some eremika buy-in. It's messy writing and unskilled in the romance department, but considering for how long and how complicated snk has been in a creative process and how lackluster the eremika romance (the main and apparently pivotal romance) is developed, I think it’s plausible to say the author effed up.

As far as writing fanfiction goes, there's just so much room to explore them. In canon, we aren't given enough insight into their individual perspectives, let alone their dynamic together, so it feels like a blank canvas to work from. I think that's part of why I love to write them, and also why I don't necessarily read much of them. When I first started shipping them while watching the anime, I read a few of the classics that were canon-verse, but I haven’t really read much since. For me, exploring and discovering them as a writer is the most fun. (It's one of the reasons Naruto and Harry Potter have such large fanfiction collections. There's so much world-building and so many characters, but there's also so much left to the imagination.)

In general, I'm drawn to strong characters, especially women, who are multidimensional enough to be real, vulnerable and soft. Mikasa is the pinnacle of that. I don’t necessarily like to write about her love or infatuation with Eren, but I do respect and admire and consider it integral to her character and her amazing capacity to love. We can have strong, kickass women who falter when it comes to love but are still considered strong for it. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive and Mikasa is a beautiful example of that.

And Levi is strong, but real and vulnerable too; he’s honestly a fantastically developed character, from Petra explaining to Eren in the beginning how he’s not the amazing hero he’s painted to be to the public, to how Levi genuinely cares for Erwin and others and chooses hope despite all he’s suffered.

The end of the manga wrecked me a bit. Kind of like Games of Thrones. You have something that was so epic and well-done for so long, a rushed ending that isn't immediately sensical and isn't fulfilling is hard to stomach. Eventually, I'll move on from the denial of that and process what I think and feel about it. The whole reason we have fanfiction is to expand on canon, but it's made me put rivamika on the back burner until I figure it out. So I'm a little less hyper-fixated on the pairing right now even though interacting with you all and asks like this remind me what brought me here in the first place. 😊

To conclude, I’ll share that the very first rivamika content I wrote was a compilation of moments I thought could be inserted into season 3. These are still moments I plan to edit and publish one day. For anyone that actually read this far, I’ll put a rough and unedited excerpt of the first scene I ever wrote about them.

Thank you again anon 🖤😊

BEGIN EXCERPT [after the rooftop fight for the serum, immediately following the ceremony where Eren touched Historia by kissing her hand]:

Part of her was embarrassed at such a flagrant act of disobedience to a superior, especially to one who saved her and countless others' lives in the past. But mostly, she was anguished by the situation Captain Levi put her in once he revoked the serum meant to save Armin and planned to use it on Commander Erwin instead. Her current ostracization and self-loathing was not entirely her own fault. Anger she felt toward herself was just as easy to wield against him.

It must have shown in the grit of her teeth or defiant tone, because he turned to look at her, more aloof than curious.

Like a flint struck to steel, it ignited the fury she felt toward him.

“I shouldn’t have hesitated. I should have just killed you,” she answered him at last, piercing him with eyes darker than the night.

He wasn’t concerned. “You’re good, but not that good.”

Her hands fell to her side, fists clenched as she stood with a single, fluid movement. Before she could let loose a threat, he sighed.

“What’s the problem, Ackerman?” He was dismissive, his shoulders relaxed and posture loose.

The fire too furious to contain, she went sailing for him with the same speed from the battlefield. Her fingers already curled, she tightened her grasp as she swung her fist into his gods-damned apathetic face.

Levi wasn’t unprepared. He easily side-stepped her, then snatched her wrist to steal her momentum. Though he tried to toss her aside, she was no less fast; Mikasa dug her heel in and spun, her other arm shoving hard into his chest.

Too graceful to stumble, Levi used the chance to hook her second arm too. He caged both her wrists in a grip so strong, she was sure it bruised her bones. Still, he only looked at her warily, almost bored.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful? I chose Armin.” If his reminder was meant to ease her anger, it had the opposite effect.

Fury and desperation gifted her additional strength. She shoved into his chest hard. Levi shifted backward, nearly forced into loosening his grip; within that split second of an opening, Mikasa slammed her elbow into his chin, rocking his head backward.

“You did,” she seethed, but as fast as the fire inside her exploded, it was doused. Her next words came out broken and damp. “But I didn’t.”

Levi remained stern and otherwise unmoving as he attempted to flex his jaw through the spasm of pain. As the momentum of the fight died down, he loosened his hold on her wrists and evaluated her distraught frame.

Mikasa immediately released her own hands and turned away from him, eyes stinging from tears she refused to shed as she focused on the stars ahead. Admitting the harsh words aloud hurt her far more than any injury she could inflict onto him.

Not only was Armin one of the only friends she had, but he’d been a steadfast one throughout almost all she could remember of her life. After the trauma of her childhood, it was Eren and Armin who embraced her, whom she learned to love. Now, though, there was a wedge between her and Armin she was not sure could ever be removed. What was worse, as deplorable and selfish as she knew it proved her to be, was the painful wedge it now put between her and Eren too.

Once again, she found Levi standing at the peripheral of her sight, close enough to see but far enough to be a blur at the edge of her watery vision.

“You almost killed me.” Levi repeated his earlier words, but he said them with an odd bite, torn between frustration and patience. “You would have killed me to save him.”

Too late, Mikasa realized he hadn’t meant these words as an accusation, but an odd form of validation. She bit her bottom lip, teeth puncturing too hard; the tang of metal was sharp on her tongue when she swallowed blood.

“You thought about letting your closest friend die,” Levi said quietly, tiredly. “But I did let mine die. I left him for dead, when I could have saved him.”

Mikasa was startled from her selfish reverie, for the first time acknowledging the sacrifice he made on that fateful afternoon. She’d been too absorbed in her own relief, and then, her own regrets to consider what the decision had done to him.

For a brief moment, she considered turning to face him, but the stark reality of the matter made her refrain. How could she feel pity for his loss, when his loss enabled her gain? An uncomfortable knot tightened in her stomach.

“Tch,” Levi sighed. He was only one notch less taciturn, but for him, that was soft. “You’ll live with your guilt, and I’ll live with mine.”

His words granted Mikasa’s tears the permission to spill. She buried her face further into her scarf, both hands trembling at the worn threads. As quietly as he arrived onto the roof, Levi disappeared from it.

It was rare for him to indulge in alcohol or celebrations, but Erwin’s absence felt more tangible than his presence ever did. Levi distracted himself with the chaos of the few remaining Scouts that Erwin had died entrusting his legacy to, and attempted to drown the pain with whatever drink Connie Springer shoved into his hands.

He found Hanji with their ale long-forgotten about on the table as they half-stood from their seat, frantic while explaining some morbid experiment in great, vivid detail to an unsuspecting and slightly horrified MP officer.

Though Levi wordlessly took the seat beside them, Hanji paused their rant to slap him hard on the back, an enthusiastic greeting flying from their drunken lips. The MP took this chance to excuse himself, a pathetic attempt at politeness, but Hanji either didn’t care or didn’t notice.

“Ah, Levi,” they smiled at his drink, though it didn’t entirely reach their one eye. “Where you been?”

Levi didn’t answer. “You know, shitty-glasses, you’re even more unbearable about your experiments when you’re drunk.”

Hanji waved dismissively and reached for their ale. Years spent in battle and command together had gifted both of them with an eased familiarity, and sometimes, genuine friendship. In the same manner he ignored their question, Hanji ignored his lack of response and went on with their original inquiry.

“Careful, Captain,” Hanji warned lightly. “Now that there’s far fewer Scouts, you having a favorite might cause some division.”

Even though Hanji meant the words, there was a glint of mischief that twinkled in their remaining eye.

“It’s not favoritism,” Levi countered bluntly, turning his vision toward the young man on the far side of the room. “Eren is simply the best chance that we have in this war.”

Hanji laughed as if he’d made a joke and Levi looked back to stare at them, unable to be surprised at their quirks or oddities any longer, but still a touch curious about what spurned this current demonstration.

“I wasn’t talking about Eren,” Hanji said at last, a pointed nod toward his injured chin.

Levi blinked. He didn’t realize he was nursing his injury with the hand not on his drink. As though it were too hot to touch, Levi dropped his hand.

Hanji was not judgmental, nor inquisitive. In a war-torn life of losing too many cadets entrusted to him, the fact that Levi found a soldier with the strength and skill to remain safe was not only rare, but worth special attention. Still, it made him too lenient.

“Sometimes I think you’d let her get away with murder,” Hanji chided halfheartedly.

When he thought of Erwin dead in his grasp, sometimes he wasn’t sure if he already had.

#my asks #my thoughts #rivamika #rivamika fanfic #lena writes

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creepintheshadows · 5 years ago

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Is Ella Also a Miracle?

NOTE: The following theory heavily references the bonus episode listed as episode 25 of season 3 ‘Boo Normal’. The canon status of this episode is debatable since it was shot as a season 4 episode prior to Fox’s cancellation of the series. Prior to the release of season 5a, I might have been on team NON-canon but in episode 8 of season 5 ‘Spoiler Alert’ Dan references his and Lucifer’s persuit of a suspect at Six Flags in ‘Boo Normal’ as justification for passing out in flight with Michael. “Come on man, I’m afraid of heights. You know what rollar coasters do to me.” While the Dan/Lucifer dynamic in ‘Boo Normal’ in particular doesn’t fit with Dan’s grief-fueled hostility towards Lucifer in the aired season 4, this is still enough for me to accept the events of Boo Normal as canon. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In season 2 we learned that Chloe is a literal miracle, a blessed conception bestowed onto an infertile couple with immunity to Lucifer’s celestial influence so that she might impact his life. But could there be another hidden in the midst? Season 2 also introduced forensic scientist Ella Lopez. A devoted Christian with an uplifting optimism and enthusiasm towards life despite her choice of career, and an addiction to hugs. Although most of the time a spectator, remaining on the sidelines acting as a mediator for Chloe and Lucifer’s relationship, Ella has been a reliable source of spiritual support, guidance, and wisdom. Is this just a coincidence or perhaps a divine altercation? There are quite a few possible parallels between Ella and Chloe. Ella was involved in a traumatic car crash when she was a child from which the angel of death had appeared to claim her. Azrael wrote it off as a “false alarm” and said these weren’t unheard of which is realistic but just as Chloe was not meant to exist, perhaps Ella was not meant to survive that car crash.

It could have been another blessing. Another blessing that led to Lucifer. She was led into Lucifer’s and Chloe’s lives because Azrael wanted to bring her two favorite people together to compensate for her absence in their lives. Was Azrael an unwitting currier much as Amenadiel was? Curiously, it has never occurred to Lucifer to use his mojo on Ella therefore that is Schrodinger's cat but similar to Chloe, she seems to be immune to Lucifer’s magnetism and charm. She has never demonstrated a compulsion to please him and has established no remote sexual attraction to him as opposed to most of L.A’s population including Chloe. Compare Chloe’s reaction to his nudity in season 1 episode 4 ‘Manly Whatnots’ to Ella’s complete lack thereof in season 4 episode 6 ‘Orgy Pants to Work.’ Lucifer in turn seems to be immune to Ella as she is one of few women he’s never once hit on. One could argue that her faith acts a barrier between them in much a similar manner to how the nuns’ faith in season 5 episode 5 ‘Detective Amenadiel’ drew them to Amenadiel but could this be God’s design? Remember the first conversation she ever had with Lucifer in season 2 episode 1 ‘Everything’s Coming Up Lucifer’: “I think the Devil gets a bad rap. I mean, what did he really do that was so bad? What, rebel against his dad? Ask some naked lady if she wanted an apple?” Fast-forward to season 2 episode 8 ‘Trip to Stabby Town’ when Lucifer requested Ella’s scientific resources to identify the person who dug Azrael’s Blade out of Uriel’s grave. She tried to refuse a deal, to tell him that favors are about Faith and when he insisted instead of wanting sex as he’s used to because most do, she wanted to take him to church. As unwitting as she was, she wanted to take the devil of all people to church! Now let’s jump to season 4 episode 7 ‘Devil is as Devil Does’ when Chloe asks for Ella’s advice on “celestial justice”. “Chloe, look at the Bible. It is so full of contradictions. Fine. Take the devil, for example. The devil's supposed to be pure evil, right? But he started out as an angel. You can't start good and then turn all evil.”

What this all adds up to is that she’s a devoted religious person who doesn’t just accept that the devil is evil incarnate because a book tells us so. Is that even a real thing?! I’ve never heard of it before and I know religious people all of whom are less devoted than Ella. If we backtrack again and examine season 3 episode 5 ‘Welcome Back Charlotte Richards’ Ella seems to have some level of clairvoyance. It is insinuated that she could sense Goddess possessing Charlotte as she recognized a change in the real Charlotte on a spiritual level. “I used to see a light in you. But now, I don't know, something's different. All I see now...is darkness.” This is her first exposure to the real Charlotte meaning this light she saw was exclusively present when Goddess was in residence and the darkness was presumably from Charlotte’s time in Hell. This is some awfully ironic commentary she’s provided over the course of the series.

No! Stop that train of thought right now! I’m NOT suggesting that Ella IS God. That’s stupid. Especially since Dennis Haybert’s introduction as God.

I’m wondering if perhaps Ella might be God’s voice, an apology, and an attempt to reconnect with his wayward son. Come to think of it, Lucifer does get a lot more Ella hugs than anyone else I think. I know there are still some holes here such as her not being able to tell that something was off about Michael during his act as “Lucifer 2.0″ as opposed to Chloe feeling it when she kissed him or her supporting Chloe’s relationship with Pierce but no one is perfect.

I Just feel all her parallels with Chloe, interactions with Lucifer and unique qualities have to mean something. Please let there be an Ella reveal in 5b or season 6! Quote source: https://subslikescript.com/series/Lucifer-4052886

#Lucifer #Ella #Ella Lopez #Thoery #Miracle #Chloe Decker #Lucifer Morningstar #God

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endlessdoom · 4 years ago

Photo

THT: Threnody

20 maps for Doom 2.

By various authors, lead by Chris Hansen.

2016

MAP01: Eirene by Chris Hansen

We start this megawad with an entry by the legend Chris Hansen. This medium sized map quickly introduces us to a style that is quite appreciable and sweet to admire, with solid visuals that combine a bit of vanilla design with a few new textures that bring new life to the map. The layout is as simple as it is attractive, offering small deviations from the path that reward us with new items, as well as interesting and well-balanced encounters. A great and fun map. 4/5

MAP02: Rockage by Ilya Lazarev (joe-ilya) and Chris Hansen

With a similar premise to the previous map, this level has a sensible but sensitive design that is quite satisfying to admire. The combination of interiors and exteriors is well done, as well as a good variety of rooms that is complemented by a modest layout that doesn't complicate things. The gameplay is slightly upped in difficulty to offer a little more variety of encounters by making use of traps. All in all, a good and decent quick level. 3/5

MAP03: Chemical Facility by Paul Corfiatis

A combination of the previous two maps in a larger and more diverse context. With deep paths and an interconnected layout, this medium-large map offers more diversity in terms of combat and gameplay, delivering several zones that are connected under a good design scheme with a decent and fluid style. 3/5

MAP04: Manly Hatred by Chris Hansen

An interesting graphical style results in a modest and pleasant level in terms of visual aspects, which at the same time offers a layout that, despite being somewhat complicated and unusual, gives us a certain sense of adventure and offers interesting combat. 3/5

MAP05: Nukevil by Adam Post (Doomkid)

Fun, fast and simple. A lovely adventure that contains both a challange and a good-looking map. 4/5

MAP06: Cut Throat by Adam Post (Doomkid)

As an evolution of the previous map that reveals itself in a larger size, greater challenge and more fun. This map combines excellent areas with natural design that give a refreshing feeling, as well as an explosive gameplay that grows with each new and different room. 5/5

MAP07: Fort Halderman by Gothic

Big and violent at times, but with interesting visuals and a good graphic theme. This is a large map with over 300 demons that can take a bit of time to complete, especially due to the layout that requires a lot of backtracking. 3/5

MAP08: Fightnancial Crisis at Enwrong by dobu gabu maru

This is a massive level that bleeds detail into sheer absurdity. If you are one of those who enjoy looking at a map designed with absolute attention to every single centimeter, you will feel incredibly good about this map. A visual treat that unfortunately suffers from somewhat lackluster gameplay and a super complex layout that hinders the flow of the gameplay. 3/5

MAP09: Forgotten Reaches by Adam Post (Doomkid)

Atmospheric and tight, but full of excellent combat in a setting so varied that the evolution and rhythm of the map is incredibly dynamic and enjoyable. 4/5

MAP10: Fomalhaut by Brett Harrell (Mechadon)

Giant and brutal. A huge brown fortress that goes into a kind of valley surrounded by mountains, with a system of caverns and outdoor areas, as well as a huge graphic detail that give a magnificent flavor to this map. Unfortunately, the sheer size of the map means that it has an incredibly cryptic layout to manage and difficult to understand paths, as well as a few traps and encounters that feel repetitive. With a somewhat dick-ish slaughter ending, this is a visually appeasing map but one that disappoints me personally in terms of gameplay. 3/5

MAP11: Parallel Dimension by Seongbae Park (antares031)

As the name suggests, this map makes use of parallel dimensions to transport us to a level developed with care and good attention to detail, being elevated in an excellent visual touch and a complementary look. Unfortunately, you have to reach a point where you have to wonder if it's worth sacrificing certain elements to get that visual quality; while the combat feels intense and well developed, the confusing teleportation system and complicated path system make this map one with an incredibly dull and complicated layout for its own good. 3/5

MAP12: WormHell by z0k and Fonze

Big, dark and gothic. A particularly designed style that creates an excellent atmosphere, establishing a clear influence that combines different styles that complement each other quite well. With constant and tight combat, this map flows pleasantly thanks to an understandable and accessible layout. It can be tiring at times, but rewards it with nice fun. 3/5

MAP13: Binde Haldetmand Palae by Paul Corfiatis

Short and gothic. A style quite reminiscent of Hexen. This small map makes use of a good combat system thanks to a well-defined layout and a progressive gameplay that remains constant. Entertaining and attractive, combining excellent rooms and height changes. 4/5

MAP14: Labour of Despair by Philip Brown (Liberation)

Charmingly large but with a magnitude wide enough to give you a good sense of freedom. Some somewhat annoying paths at times, including pools of blood that slow us down, but with good, entertaining and challenging combat that culminates in a solid final arena. 3/5

MAP15: TY45-15 by Didy

Solid medium sized level set in a medieval city with touches of dark fantasy. The gothic design permeates the environment and delivers a fantastic map in terms of visual style, along with good gameplay that delivers fun encounters and a layout understandable enough to not compromise the fun factor. 4/5

AP16: Ayahuasca by Chris Hansen

Lovingly detailed and with a tight design that promotes the personal. It exudes ambiance and features a fascinating design that expands through a solid layout. Explosive combat makes this a challenging but enjoyable map. 4/5

MAP17: Tyvivec by Angry Saint

Massive in terms of its outlook. A set of islands with fortresses linked by bridges in an ocean of lava. An epic view in every sense along with a brutal gameplay that punishes for certain moments in unexpected traps. Progress feels balanced and features solid moments but is at times a bit difficult to navigate. 3/5

MAP18: Fallen Steward - Eternal Archive by Mithran Denizen

Medium but chaotic. It throws us into an explosive combat from the beginning, giving us a constant and brutal combat for the entire duration of the game. With a small progression system that goes down relatively in difficulty, this is a short but nice map. 3/5

MAP19: Big Freaking Guardians by Fonze and Didy

Gigantic and extremely beautiful to admire. Full of details and variation of visuals, giving it a very dynamic and entertaining progress. On the other hand, it is a challenging and exhaustive map. You can expect 30 minutes of gameplay on this. 3/5

MAP20: Sky Pillar by Seongbae Park (antares031)

An explosive ending to an explosive WAD. MAP20 is a big yet compact level with a great dynamic progression that allows for multiple combats at a time while still retaining a focus on progressing the level. The fantastic visuals evoke an eerie feeling that plays right into the overall theme. 4/5

End.

Overall:

» THT: Threnody (2016) By various authors led by Chris Hansen

A collection of 20 maps makes this a respectfully large megawad that works in the style of Community Project, with the difference that the authors have managed to work under a fairly cohesive factor that gives a certain palpable identity to THT. Speaking of THT, this is also a WAD in the form of a tribute to one of the legends of the community, one of our greatest pillars and fantastic creator. THT stands for Ty Halderman Tribute, creator of the iconic TNT mappers group and also the maintainer of /idgames archive from 1997 to 2015. That's an amount of effort that very, very few of us in the community will ever manage to encompass. That's a lifetime of providing us with both content and pure hard work. This WAD is a dedication to Ty, a love letter of sorts that without needing to be an exact replica of his past works, has certain monuments to his legacy. A WAD that contains a particularly special essence, let's see what it is all about, shall we?

With 20 maps in total, created by legends like @antares031, the didactic @Chris Hansen, the passionate @Doomkid or the extra prolific @pcorf (just to mention a couple of the ones I've played before) this megawad leaves no loose reins and brings with it a pretty special cast, who working under the direction of Chris Hansen, managed to create something with a touch of palpable identity that at the same time works as an excellent museum of memories to all that many of us have appreciated thanks to Ty. Mainly, we have to frame that this WAD makes special use of textures created by TNT, the OG group, as well as a few references to other projects that can be found within the repertoire of Ty's work. Each map is a blast in terms of its visual design, delivering such a dynamic variety of visual themes that it becomes a complete visual pleasure in every encounter; even the small and short maps have such an attractive design that it makes us want to create a photo gallery of this megawad alone. This is in part thanks to the incredible texture set that manages to combine a perfect blend between the classic gothic style ala Hexen and a bit of pure Doom technology. Like a discordant dichotomy of two separate styles that together manage to establish themselves quite well. It's common to find more than one TNT logo there and then, and every time we look at them we probably end up smiling either from nostalgia or simple charisma.

The maps are, to put it simply, barbaric. The first set starts off slow, setting up a dynamic progression with a little extra challenge and a UV that gives us an idea of the type of combat we'll encounter as we progress. After the first 10 or so maps, things get more violent and at the same time more spectacular. MAP10: Fomalhaut by Brett Harrell (@Mechadon) is probably the wake-up call that will make us realize what kind of beast we have. This gigantic map is a work of detail and fortifications, combining lavish combat with somewhat bogged down but always steady progress. @antares031 also delivers huge maps of magnificent dimensions and incredible themes. MAP11: Parallel Dimension is probably one of the most unique and attractive maps we will find in the set, as well as a challenge that will ask for patience. MAP12: WormHell by @z0k and @Fonze is another giant that combines very well a 90s style that evolves to reveal a gothic work. MAP19: Big Freaking Guardians by @Fonze and @Didy takes the prize in terms of violence and magnitude, a huge map in every sense that will undoubtedly make us suffer through an adventure in the beautiful dimensional spaces of TNT. These are huge maps, violent and somewhat frustrating at times, but with an attention to detail and absolute visual glory that make us feel in another world. As I said before, a photo gallery. Of course, it's not all beastly here, we also have modest, short and simple maps that will deliver a rich pleasure in what we could describe as a quickie. MAP01: Eirene by @Chris Hansen, the first map, delivers an excellent moment of fun in a short but dynamic and constant level of pure balanced action and welcome for all types of players. MAP05: Nukevil by Adam Post (@Doomkid) and all his maps, are excellent examples of medium to short maps that work as excellent points of intermission where the balance between gameplay and aesthetics is perfectly succeeded in total linearity of evaluations. Nothing beats the other, and everything beats the other at the same time. MAP13: Binde Haldetmand Palae by @Paul Corfiatis is another great example of a short map with a compact design that evolves on itself, offering an excellent hard to miss layout that never stops progressing, while giving us an excellent visual style. These are some of my favorite maps, maps that work as well in their gameplay factor as they do visually, and of course, I can't forget the last one: MAP20: Sky Pillar by Seongbae Park (@antares031) is a magnificent work that ends this megawad in an arena of eternal confines where melancholy combines in the air with the blood of eternal demons under the autumnal sky of a forgotten hell.

While the megawad is designed in the form of a tribute, it does not attempt to replicate Ty's style exactly, nor copy directly from his creations; on the contrary, it chooses a system of references so subtle that they function like little poems whispered in silence. As we move forward, we will see things that remind us of his great contributions, while at the same time we play with the vague notion that we were already in this place once. A kind of dream that we never dreamed, and in that this megawad manages to carry that fantastic tribute idea.

On the other hand, while the megawad is a marvel for the eyes, I'm sure it won't be to everyone's taste for those who prefer to focus on the gameplay. Only 20 maps, but you can expect about 5 hours of gameplay in UV, counting deaths. The final maps are incredibly long and challenging, giving us an excellent beating if we are not prepared for it, to the point that many will have to rely heavily on trial-and-error to overcome these maps. This, added to the sad side effect of large, layous and confusing maps, makes the levels often feel overcomplicated for what they are, punishing the player with an unstable, tiring and extremely long progress. But then I get to thinking, isn't Eternal Doom like that? Maybe it's all part of the tribute, who knows. One way or another, if you want to throw yourself into this megawad, I think I can tell you with a firm hand to do so. It's not just a simple project, it's one made with dedication, passion and a lot of love. The maps you will find here are of a higher quality than normal, and each one of them feels like a long and memorable adventure.

I may have felt quite frustrated at times thanks to the constant hordes of enemies and the pseudo-slaughter gameplay at times, but every stage made it worthwhile. On the other hand, I'm capable of putting up with punishing combat, but confusing layouts? That really kills my patience, but I understand that sometimes the glory and fun lies in this singular aspect, the exploration and the feeling of being lost. On the other hand, don't let my words sound so extreme, this isn't Eternal Doom either, but you will need to pay attention and take note of where you've been and where you're going. If you like that, then you will love it. But even if you don't, let me tell you that I had a great time and thoroughly enjoyed the megawad. It's a long, but satisfying adventure that ends on a nostalgic note through space and time, like a dimensional goodbye from mirrors we don't see. A fine tribute that I'm sure Ty would love.

#doom #wad #megawad #level #gaming #retro #review

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johannas-motivational-insults · 5 years ago

Note

I for one was seething while Ms assh... Weaver basically confirmed to her designed punching bag that she keeps her around because she's a decent emotional support for Adora, so... wanna go even deeper and stab the reader s'more?

Oh I love stabbing the reader. And I love this scene so I’ll do the whole fuckin’ thing. (Commentary is bolded.)

This scene really is heartbreaking. It was easy for me to write, though, because Catra and (Shadow) Weaver have a very particular dynamic that I vibe with. It's such a pivotal scene for Catra too, because it confirms her fears that her success would be met with pushback and that Weaver really doesn’t love her or care about her at all. It makes her feel dehumanized both in the sense of being treated as subhuman and being treated as a tool. Something to be kept around only so long as it’s useful, discarded the second it’s not. This is the moment when she learns for certain just how little she means to Weaver and it’s painful to read.

*Content Warning for abuse*

The sound of keys in the front door makes Catra frown in confusion as she unloads the last of her books. No one is ever home this early. Even when Weaver doesn’t have any sponsored clubs or other teacher bullshit to deal with, 3:15 is the earliest she ever gets home.

But Catra’s always had sensitive ears, and those are definitely Ms. Weaver’s footsteps crossing the floor. When the woman pokes her head into the kitchen, no doubt to investigate the smell, Catra gives her a jerky nod. “Went to work after all?”

“No, I had some errands to run,” Weaver replies flatly. “Lying around all day like a lazy sack of meat doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Me @ Weaver:

Bitch she’s baking cookies, she’s clearly not lying around all day. Why you gotta be like that?

“Yeah, me neither,” mutters Catra, deflecting the obvious implication.

“I have something for you,” says Weaver, and Catra can’t help but look up in surprise. Weaver tosses her something and she instinctively moves to catch it. Just before it hits her hands, she realizes what it is and her stomach drops. Fingering the rough edges of the rolled up newspaper, she tries to breathe steadily as she forces her eyes up to meet Weaver’s. (Oh gotta love that trauma response.) The woman looks more unimpressed than predatory right now, but Catra knows better than anyone how that can change at the drop of a hat.

“Looks like your little ploy paid off,” she remarks.

Sighing, Catra sets the paper down on the table. “I told you, it wasn’t a ploy. Just a play.”

“I see. And I suppose the fact that this article was written by a close friend of yours is a complete coincidence.”

LOL clearly Weaver knows nothing about Entrapta if she thinks she could be bribed into writing something she doesn’t believe.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Catra denies swiftly. When Weaver’s expression doesn’t change, she insists, “Really, I swear.”

Weaver’s head tips the slightest bit, that familiar predatory tinge seeping into her eyes and voice. “And why should I believe you?”

Catra huffs, arms crossing defensively over her chest. “Why would I do something I know would get me in trouble?”

“I don’t know, Catra, you tell me,” says Weaver, slowly closing the gap between them. “It’s not as though you’ve been doing that your entire life.”

Me @ Weaver:

Like okay, it’s kinda true. But still.

Tensing more with every step Weaver takes, Catra raises her hands innocently, trying and failing not to shift her weight to her back foot. Not to give ground or show her fear. (This is making me super uncomfortable so I’m probably just gonna keep memeing at you all. Yes, I am aware that this is my fault. No, I am not sorry.) “Look, Entrapta has really strong opinions, and they’re always backed up with facts. I couldn’t just plant the idea in her head to write something like this.”

“Facts, you say?” muses Weaver. She reaches past Catra in a very deliberate show of invading her space, and Catra can’t help but suck a quick breath in through her teeth. But Weaver doesn’t touch her. All she does is pick up the paper and turn it over in her hands as though she is deep in thought. Then the motion stops, her eyes snapping up sharply. “So you agree with her.”

Weaver @ Catra:

“That’s not what I said,” protests Catra, her exasperation showing through her tenuous attempts at staying calm. “Stats are facts, not who deserves what awards or whatever. It’s not like I even care about that.”

Weaver shakes her head, her chuckle positively dripping with condescension. “Oh, now I know you’re lying.”

She is. She really is. And the fact that Weaver knows how much Catra cares and wants praise and approval and still denies her that makes me want to slap a bitch.

Also I just realized how closely this scene parallels the one in 1x04 and that actually wasn’t intentional but I’ll take it, clearly I’ve got the spirit of their relationship down.

“No, I-”

The newspaper smacks Catra across the cheek and she yelps in shock and pain, hand flying to her mouth.

It shouldn’t be a shock, not after 14 years of this shit. It still is, every time.

Ugh, ow.

“Enough of your lip,” hisses Weaver. “You know better than to contradict me.”

Hate is not a strong enough word for how I feel about this woman. Unfortunately there are too many people just like her. I’ve noticed the audience particularly hates this incarnation of Shadow Weaver and I think it’s because when she’s stripped of her magic the tactics she’s left with are far too familiar. I feel the same way.

Catra’s tongue swipes along her stinging lip, checking for blood. It comes back clean, but the lack of physical damage does nothing to calm the quiet rage boiling up inside of her. Weaver has never treated her with an ounce of respect, and now she has the gall to hit her with a rolled up newspaper like she’s a fucking animal. Subhuman. (I mean this feeling comes straight out of Demons but with Catra being human in this au it’s... not worse, definitely not, but it hits differently.) Catra’s fists clench and her chest puffs out as she straightens up to her full height (even if it’s nothing on Weaver).

“Do not touch me,” growls Catra, her voice low and dangerous in a way few people have ever heard it. “I’m an adult, that’s officially illegal now.”

Oh, you sweet summer child.

“Oh, you want to talk about the law?” counters Weaver, sounding far too calm in comparison. It just makes Catra angrier. And maybe a little scared. Somehow Weaver always makes her feel out of control, which never ceases to remind her who is in control. (Oof.) “I am under no obligation to let you live here, Catra, let alone at a significant discount. I do that out of the kindness of my heart. (LOL the what now?) Would you rather I throw you out in the streets like the stray you are?”

Yay for another insinuation that Catra is an animal. Nice going, Weaver.

Also, that is one of the meanest fucking lines I’ve ever written for Shadow Weaver and that’s saying something.

Those words hit Catra right in the gut, a blow far more painful than any physical one. They trigger a flood of other words that always seem to find her, stick to her no matter how she tries to slough them off, prove them wrong. Stray, nuisance, brat, worthless, unwanted, unloved...

But she was loved once. She was.

Oh boy, get ready for PAIN. So I wasn’t orginally planning to write this flashback but then I got a Very Bad Idea and I love torturing my readers (and myself) so this happened.

Kneeling in front of the open door, Papi opened his arms for a goodbye hug. When Catra stepped into them, she felt his smile against the side of her head. “Te amo, mija.”

“Yo también te amo, Papi,” said Catra, tiny arms tightening around his neck with a proud grin. He hadn’t taught her that one, she’d pieced it together on her own.

Papi chuckled in surprise and approval, ruffling her wild hair. “You’re a genius, little one. You know that?”

“Yep!” she answered, beaming with the completely earnest confidence only a precocious three year-old can muster.

Baby Catra’s behavior may be slightly inspired by my highly intelligent four year-old niece, who is also biracial with a multilingual father.

A couple playful taps of the horn from the driveway interrupted them, making Papi chuckle once again. Pulling away enough to look Catra in the eye, he winked conspiratorially. “Better not keep Mommy waiting. You know how she is.”

Catra shook her head soberly in agreement. Mommy was notoriously impatient, a speed demon on the road. Catra loved driving with her, laughing like a maniac from the backseat whenever she’d swerve and cuss out the idiots in her way. Those cackles never failed to make Mommy shoot Catra a smile in the rearview mirror, her transitory rage melting away in an instant at the sound. Still, it was never good being on the receiving end of that impatience.

(Catra’s mother is not at all inspired by my sister, however. She drives like a fucking granny.)

Papi quickly pecked Catra on the cheek before standing and waving goodbye, giving an appreciative nod to the babysitter as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He didn’t close it loudly or anything, but no sound is louder in Catra’s nightmares. She never saw either of them again.

“Answer me, Catra,” Ms. Weaver demands sternly.

That was what she had. And this is where she ended up.

Yeah, no wonder this version of Catra just assumes anything good in her life will be taken away. In some ways it might be worse than being Adora starting with nothing, because not only does Adora not remember what she lost in infancy (which wasn’t great to begin with), she has been steadily moving up in the world since. Catra’s had the opposite trajectory.

Suddenly noticing the tears rolling down her cheeks, Catra swipes them away with the back of her hand. Her throat hurts too much to swallow, so she doesn’t even bother trying to settle her voice. Her weakness is already on full display, anyway. Shaking her head, she whispers hoarsely, “No, Ms. Weaver.”

“Good,” Weaver says with finality as Catra sniffles, blinking back more tears. “You still live under my roof, and you will abide by my rules or face the consequences, just like anyone else.”

Oh boy, that’s a little too close for comfort. Again with this version of SW feeling especially despicable to the audience because it’s so familiar.

Just like anyone else. Sure.

Yeah you’re right Catra, go off.

As Weaver starts toward her room, Catra half-heartedly tosses a hand with an empty, resigned sigh. “What rules did I break this time?”

Weaver turns back, her expression dangerous, but Catra can’t muster the enthusiasm for fear anymore. Her eyes are still burning, voice tight with emotion as she confesses, “I’ve tried, Ms. Weaver. I-” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head, pinching her brow in shame. “I never wanted you to hate me.”

brb crying in the club

K but honestly the helplessness here is just heartbreaking. And it’s just like in canon. We saw, Catra did try to be a good soldier and make Shadow Weaver like her, but it was a lost cause. I mean I didn’t pull this dialogue directly from 2x06 but it’s a similar flavor for sure.

When Catra dares to look back up she finds that Weaver’s expression has softened slightly, though she still looks annoyed. “I never said I hate you,” she says, the uncharacteristic gentleness catching Catra off guard. “You’re just more trouble than you’re worth most of the time.”

It shouldn’t be a comfort. But it is, anyway. It is. Catra sniffles again, dipping her head to wipe her eyes on her shoulders.

The fact that this is a comforting answer to Catra is so fucked up and tragic but so befitting of their relationship.

“Though I will admit, you do have a way with Adora,” concedes Weaver, her tone very nearly impressed. “Not everyone can handle someone like that and keep them on task. I’ve had plenty come through my classroom.”

Wow, so we’re just being casually ableist now? Nice.

My thoughts exactly, Catra.

...Ableist and pragmatic.

Catra snorts under her breath, shaking her head as her eyes fall to the floor. How did she never put this together before? “That’s why you’re letting me stay.”

This truly is a gut punch moment. She thought maybe Weaver actually had a bit of affection for her or was invested in her future after all (which tracks for Catra because she is mean to the people she likes) and that’s why she let her stay, but no. As usual, it’s all about Adora. That is not going to bode well for the resentment moving forward.

“She does badly with her routine being disrupted, and she’s come to rely on you,” states Weaver, tipping her head in acknowledgement.

“Plus she’d hate you if you kicked me out,” Catra adds pointedly.

Weaver smiles, all teeth. “It is better for everyone this way, wouldn’t you say?”

Better for you, you mean.

“Sure,” mutters Catra. When that response earns her a look, she corrects herself. “Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

Eyes narrowed into slits, Weaver warns her, “Make no mistake, Catra. Adora would manage if you left us. If your behavioral issues begin to outweigh your usefulness, I reserve the right to evict you.” She cocks an expectant eyebrow. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” mumbles Catra.

Poor Catra, I just...

“I care very much about Adora, and I won’t have you dragging her down with you.”

“I remember,” Catra says numbly, picking at her nails and avoiding Weaver’s gaze.

Ooooooooooof. Why do I insist on hurting myself so much with all these canon parallels?

Studying her intently for a moment, Weaver concludes, “Yes, I’m sure you do.” Then she turns and leaves without another word.

Well that was lovely. Anybody else want to reach through the screen and throttle a bitch? ‘Cause I sure do.

This scene doesn’t cause an immediate reaction on Catra’s part but it definitely moves her to a place where she’s very aware of her role and how useless it is to try to change it (at least in this house), and that makes everything a little more volatile. She’s not at a breaking point yet but she’s getting closer, it certainly takes the wind out of her sails a bit. She will recover in the short term because she is Catra and her stubbornness makes her very resilient, but it weighs her down and eventually she is going to snap. Y’all will love that, I’m sure. ;)

#ask games #director's commentary #spop #catradora #fanfic #hail mary #writing #asks #anon #catra and shadow weaver

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sciencespies · 4 years ago

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Looking Back at the Legacy of 'The Great White Hope' and Boxer Jack Johnson

https://sciencespies.com/history/looking-back-at-the-legacy-of-the-great-white-hope-and-boxer-jack-johnson/

Looking Back at the Legacy of 'The Great White Hope' and Boxer Jack Johnson

SMITHSONIANMAG.COM | Feb. 25, 2021, 8 a.m.

“There’s nothing you need to make up about Jack Johnson.”

Documentarian Ken Burns would know. His 2005 series “Unforgivable Blackness,” based on the book of the same name by historian Geoffrey C. Ward, brought the true story of the life and career of Jack Johnson, the black boxer who fought his way up through the pugilism ranks to become the world heavyweight champion, to television.

But before Burns, those who weren’t around for the so-called “Fight of the Century” that saw Johnson outslug James J. Jeffries in 1910, would have known Jackson’s story through the play and movie The Great White Hope. That work of historical fiction, by playwright Howard Sackler, perhaps reveals more about the time in which it was written than the time in which it is set.

The play’s message about the nature of racism and racial conflict succeeded in providing audiences with an opportunity to better understand different perspectives through the prism of its characters, but the film adaptation failed to deliver the same powerhouse impact. That said, both served to launch the careers of two actors on the rise and brought to the public a poignant story of interracial romance and the struggle for interracial couples to find acceptance in America.

Alexander and Jones in a publicity still from the 1970 film

(Photo by Afro American Newspapers / Gado / Getty Images)

Sackler’s much-lauded play arrived in 1967, as the civil rights movement’s struggles were at last bearing fruit. In The Great White Hope, black boxer Jack Jefferson—a name change borne out of legal concerns—becomes so successful that a fight is set up between Jefferson and the reigning heavyweight champion of the world, a white man. In addition to developing a story which focused on an equivalent of the Johnson-Jeffries fight, Sackler constructed a storyline based on the relationship between Johnson and his first wife, a white woman named, Etta Terry Duryea, represented in the play by the character of Eleanor Bachman. In addition to mirroring the tensions Johnson and Duryea endured in pursuing an interracial relationship during the early 20th century, Eleanor’s ultimate fate mirrors that of Duryea, who died by suicide in 1912.

The play’s title came from the descriptor assigned decades earlier to any white boxer who stepped into the ring to challenge Johnson, although it was most famously used to describe Jeffries, who had retired from the ring more than five years before the landmark fight. Upon being wooed into returning to the ring, Jeffries made his reasons perfectly clear, publicly announcing, “I am going into this fight for the sole purpose of proving that a white man is better than a Negro.”

As history reveals, Jeffries proved no such thing: not only did Johnson win the fight by a technical knockout in round 15, but as fellow boxer John L. Sullivan told the New York Times, “Scarcely has there ever been a championship contest that was so one-sided.”

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Sackler drew inspiration from these events, seeing in Johnson an opportunity to tell a story about a man who becomes a hero but is nonetheless destined for a downfall, someone who many—including the play’s director, Ed Sherin—likened to the titular character in William Shakespeare’s Coriolanus. “It’s about a man who essentially moves out of his tribe and gets clobbered,” Sherin told The American Theatre in 2000. “And in [Sackler’s] mind, it wasn’t about black-white. The historical circumstances made that the paramount issue in the play. But it’s not. And it taps off white guilt about the way the black man was dealt with, but that was not [Sackkler’s] position at all. He wrote a play about a tragic hero, somebody who oversteps himself—as Coriolanus did.”

***********

The Great White Hope began with a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts to Arena Stage, a Washington, D.C. theater, which at the time was best known for being the first integrated theater in the city. To find the right man for Jefferson, Sackler reached out to actor James Earl Jones, an established performer was working in Europe.

“Howard suggested that I start getting into shape, which was really important—the man was a boxer—but which I was not and am not and will never be!” says Jones, laughing. “In fact, the young man who was my understudy onstage, Yaphet Kotto, resembled Jack much more than I did.”

James Earl Jones looks at his reflection in a Broadway dressing room mirror on December 10, 1968.

(Photo by Harry Benson / Daily Express / Getty Images)

For the role of Bachman, Sherin went with an existing member of the Arena Stage company: actress Jane Alexander, who would later become Sherin’s wife. Despite the racially charged subject matter, Alexander had no hesitation about diving headlong into the material.

“I really looked forward to doing things like that,” says Alexander. “Of course, civil rights were very high at that time in the ’60s, and we did not shy away from controversy at Arena Stage. We did quite a lot of things, tackling the Vietnam War and racism and so on, so I didn’t have any problem with the subject matter.”

Alexander also politely disagrees with her co-star’s self-assessment. “[James] is a big man—he certainly looks like a heavyweight champion!—and he got in such great shape,” she says. “He was just gorgeous-looking at the time. But he was formidable…and when he gets that look in his eyes, he’s scary!“

The Great White Hope only played for a few weeks at Arena before its success catapulted it to Broadway. Although the audiences were initially almost entirely white, Alexander says that the number of black theatergoers began to increase steadily as the play received more acclaim, hitting the 50/50 mark by the end of the first year. As a result, she also began to notice that black audiences reacted differently to the play than white audiences.

“They didn’t like my character at all…and who could blame them?” concedes Alexander. “I was causing him all these problems! So they would sometimes cheer or laugh at my death…and that was not easy for James Earl, because [he] looked at it as a love story. He had a very difficult scene to perform over my dead body, and they were sometimes not happy with him being emotional about me.”

Even worse, Alexander also began receiving hate mail. “Sometimes they were just disgusting letters from white bigots, male and female. Really awful letters. But I got a couple of death threats. That’s when I said to my stage manager, ‘I can’t open my mail.’”

Jones, for the record, didn’t receive any such threats, but the fact that his co-star did receive them, he says, “sort of measured the height of the bull****.”

Both Alexander and Jones received Tony Awards for their work in The Great White Hope.

(Photo by NBCU Photo Bank / NBC Universal via Getty Images)

Muhammad Ali at a November 12, 1968, performance of The Great White Hope on Broadway

(Photo by Tom Wargacki / WireImage)

Fortunately, those who appreciated The Great White Hope far outweighed those who didn’t, and one of the play’s biggest fans was one of the most famous men in the world: Muhammad Ali, who understandably saw some parallels between himself and Jones’s character. (“What Ali actually said was, ‘This is my play, except for the white chick,’” recalls Alexander, laughing.)

“Muhammad Ali had just done a Broadway play himself—or, rather, a musical—called Buck White, where he played kind of an activist,” recalls Jones. “He considered himself a stage actor, I think, so he’d come back and wanted to talk actor to actor about my work. When the audience left the theater, he used to love going up on the stage and say, ‘Watch this!’ And he’d take a crack at a scene, and then he’d say, ‘And that’s the way that ought to be done!’ I loved it. And the way he’d interpret it? He wasn’t always wrong!”

Ali was also responsible for one of Alexander’s most cherished memories from the Broadway run of The Great White Hope, during the third of his backstage visits.

While the film version of The Great White Hope received its fair share of critical acclaim, with both Jones and Alexander—in her film debut—earning Oscar nominations for their work, few would disagree that it’s a lesser work than the play. The first sign that Hollywood had done some major streamlining: the play originally ran for three-and-a-half hours, whereas the film version clocks in at a streamlined 103 minutes.

“I missed some of the lyricism in the beautiful long monologues—or soliloquies, if you will—that some of the actors had, specifically [James],” says Alexander. “They were cut, a lot of them. “

Jones pulls no punches when offering his take on the play’s cinematic adaptation. “I apologize for the film, because it wasn’t right,” he says. “The big mistake happened when the decision was made not to have Ed Sherin direct the film. It was a big investment on the part of 20th Century Fox, and they made an attempt to work around the cost of filmmaking. They decided to make it… I wouldn’t say ‘cheap,’ but they thought they couldn’t afford to take a gamble on [a first-time film director].”

“They made a decision to shorten it by using a formula which… Well, I won’t try to define it, but they wanted to make it a romance,” says Jones. “Which it was in real life, but it was a mistake to try and ignore all the dynamic stuff going on in that man’s life in favor of trying to make it a love story of this poor black guy and this poor white girl who wanted to be together in life. But America just didn’t let them do it.”

Jones’s description of the film’s romantic plotline is dripping with sardonic wit, something which becomes evident when he abruptly begins chuckling.

“The truth is, I think Ken Burns’ documentary is more important than the film or the play we did,” says Jones. “I thought there was no way you could capture all the dynamics of that man’s life, all the gorgeousness and physical beauty, the human beauty of the man called Jack Johnson. But Burns captured it. Whether you’re a boxing fan or not, whether you have any corner of the race issue you want to explore, it’s something everybody should see.”

Jack Johnson (right) defeated Jim Jeffries in a 1910 boxing showdown.

(Photo by PA Images via Getty Images)

“He stuck around late enough that the stage manager had already put the ghost light onstage. Only the doorman was left, and I was in the wings. And Muhammad Ali walked out in that dark theater and turned to a naked, empty house, and he reprised the last line of the second act: ‘I is here! I is here! I is here!’ It was amazing. And nobody ever witnessed that but me. “

**********

The success of The Great White Hope soon led to conversations about adapting the play into a film, but those conversations didn’t include Alexander until after the show swept the Tony Awards, winning Best Play and earning Jones and Alexander trophies for their roles, too. The acclaim even extended beyond the traditional theater community, with the play winning the Pulitzer Prize for Drama as well.

“I was told that [film director] Martin Ritt offered it first to Joanne Woodward,” says Alexander. “She turned it down, saying, ‘You should get that girl who did it on Broadway.’ And then he went to Faye Dunaway, and Faye turned it down! And then what happened after Faye turned it down? The Tony Awards happened. And the next day, I got the offer.”

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Burns, who interviewed Jones for “Unforgivable Blackness,” believes the problem with the film adaptation extends well beyond trying to force it into being a love story.

“The much more important thing is something that you find throughout well-intentioned history and art about African-Americans, which is that somehow they always need to have a white person around to justify them,” says Burns. “In The Great White Hope, here’s this incredibly talented physical specimen who plays in all these incredibly dangerous tropes about black people, and yet somehow you need well-intentioned white handlers in whatever form—romantically or fight-wise—to sort of nudge you to the right direction, as if they’re unaccompanied minors who need to be accompanied.

Adds Burns about the real story he found while making the documentary, “What’s so important about Jack Johnson is that he defies all conventions we want a heroic black man to be in. He doesn’t want the job of hero. Somehow we want our African Americans to conform to some version of our idea of an acceptable black person. Jack Johnson just takes dynamite and pushes the plunger on that.”

“I admire the play, and I admire the movie, and it’s heart is in the right place, and it’s intentions are good, but it’s in a narrow bandwidth that doesn’t permit the full scope of Jack Johnson, good, bad, and otherwise,” concludes Burns. “It constrains him with narrative devices that aren’t needed.”

Boxer Jack Johnson

(Photo by Sean Sexton / Getty Images)

Jones in boxing attire

(Bettman via Getty Images)

Even with its flaws, there’s no question that The Great White Hope made an impact on those who saw it, on stage or screen.

“I remember walking down the streets of New York for the next decade, and black men would just come up and say, ‘Hey, Jane, how are ya?’ or something like that,” says Alexander. “I remember once I was in an airport, and Snoop Dogg yells across the terminal, ‘Jane!’ I recognized that he was a big music star, but I didn’t know who it was, so I just sort of inched over a little bit…and he just said, ‘Hey!’ That’s all! But I felt very warm inside that black men recognized me, seemed understanding and supportive, and… I think they were saying that they knew that it was a difficult role.

“It was surprising to me the number of white people who wondered why I had done the film. There were a lot of firsts there. The racism was not as overt as it is today, but it was there, and I was surprised it was there in my parents’ friends, who would just question me and say, ‘Why did you have to do that for your first film?’ I was thrilled! Race relations were different at that time. We didn’t march in the same way. If you look at the marches in Selma, Alabama, you won’t see a lot of white people. But I was part of the Poor People’s March in Washington (in 1968), and I went and listened to Martin Luther King speak. But now we have Black Lives Matter, and there are a lot of white people and black people walking side by side. That’s progress.”

#History

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yurimother · 6 years ago

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LGBTQ Visual Novel Review – The Expression Amrilato

I adore any work that tries to do something different with yuri, and visual novels are perhaps the medium pushing boundaries most when it comes to traditional yuri storytelling. I recently played such a visual novel, Mangagamer’s English adaptation of SukeraSparo’s The Expression Amrilato. The Expression Amrilato is an educational yuri game, focusing on teaching the player the international language of Esperanto, or Juliamo as it is known in the game’s world. The game was developed in collaboration with The Japanese Esperanto Institute and I was thoroughly excited to not only experience a cute yuri adventure but to learn something new!

The story begins when the protagonist, Rin, is transported to a mysterious parallel world. It is almost identical to her own with the only obvious differences being the language spoken and the eternally pink sky. Lost and scared, Rin frantically tries to figure out what is going on to no avail. Fortunately, she is saved by a younger girl, Ruka, who speaks a smattering of the Japanese familiar to Rin.

Soon Rin is registered as a vizitanto (the Esperanto term for visitor), a person who traveled to the world from another. Ruka, who again, is three years her junior, is established as her guardian, a dynamic Rin is somewhat embarrassed by. The two girls begin living together in Ruka’s apartment as Rin learns the basics of Juliamo. She is assisted in this endeavor by Ruka and the helpful, if somewhat mischievous, librarian, Rei.

These three women, Rin, Ruka, and Rei, are the main cast of the visual novel. By focusing on such a small cast SukeraSparo was able to give each of them a distinct personality, complexity, and intricate relationships with each other. As previously mentioned, Rei is mischievous and often pokes fun at Rin and Ruka. However, she is incredibly protective of both of them, giving advice and acting as a sort of parent to the two younger girls. This dichotomy of character works surprisingly well, especially later in the game as she reveals more about the world and her past.

Rei is excellent but the highlight of the game is Ruka and Rin. Rin is a superb protagonist. She often thinks and narrates inwardly, giving us insight into her feelings. She describes herself as pretty unremarkable but is determined to be good at one thing, learning Juliamo. She also constantly ponders and overthinks her relationship with Ruka, an incredibly complicated topic. Ruka, however, is much more quietly confident and reserve (as well as adorable). Although the younger girl is prone to pouting and frustration at Rin’s occasional stupidity. But, their relationship is the real highlight of the game.

Rin is “freeloading” off Ruka, and as Ruka is her guardian and teacher she is subservient. However, these tables are turned at times as Rin helps to teach Ruka more Japanese. Rin is also attracted to Ruka but she often blunders attempts to navigate or explain her feelings. The main boundary here is their language difference, which compels both Rin and the player to do their best learning Juliamo.

Rei acts as Rin’s primary resource for learning about the world she has wandered into. There is a surprising amount and world-building in The Expression Amrilato, particularly around the mechanics of how vizitanto come to the world and how governments support them. The established systems for how these vizitanto exist and assimilate, or not, into the world are fascinating and incredibly well thought out. This detailed setting creates an excellent framework for both the game’s education aspects and the core romance.

Overall, the romantic plot between Rin and Ruka is nothing new, it is the same “girl meets girl, girls likes girl, they get together” plot that has been told and retold countless times in the genre. This is not to say the romance is not enjoyable. Rin’s embarrassment and fumbling attempts to control her feelings for Ruka are simultaneously adorable and hilarious. The game has some fun with cliche moments like Rin falling into Ruka and them ending in a compromised position but also has some excellent human moments between the two, such as Ruka sleeping next to Rin to comfort her. The visual novel is decently tame with a little bit of suggestive description and one non-nude bathing scene early on. The lack of service feels appropriate and the characters are still able to hold their own romantic and sexual identities, a welcome accomplishment in the yuri genre which often spends too much time focusing on girls freaking out that they like other girls.

Choices exist in the game, primarily around using the Juliamo language. However, the romance and Rin’s fate ends in one of three ways, good, neutral, or bad, according to late game choices. I strongly disliked the choices as, for the most part, they have no clear indicator of where they are going, turning the story into guesswork, which was indeed my process to find all three endings, replaying the last section over and over again. Furthermore, on some routes, the choices that most players will want to make can lock them out of the best ending. I also was baffled by the choice to not have the player’s aptitude with Juliamo factor into the ending, as you can fail every quiz and get every dialogue option wrong and this will not affect the endings at all. Fortunately, the choices that do affect the ending are late in the game, so backtracking to find your desired outcome is possible.

The character designs and artwork are by Naruse Chisato, and she does a fantastic job. Each of the major characters looks are distinctive, with differing heights, body types, fashion sense, and proportions. I particularly enjoyed the varying outfits on Ruka and her facial expressions (especially when pouting). However, the characters often have a stiff cardboard feel to them, as they have very few poses and clash somewhat against the depth of the backgrounds. Additionally, some of the expressions, particularly on Rei, appear warped and unnatural.

The backgrounds and CG artwork, the latter of which are plentiful, are wonderful. They have a soft pastel look without ever being washed out, and the characters here appear much more at home in their environments and more animated, with cutouts frequently appearing in CGs to show action. Different art assets used in the educational scenes such as flashcards or writing on a chalkboard are excellent editions. Unfortunately, as the story takes place primarily in Ruka’s apartment and the library, the player will quickly become bored by these backgrounds and long for a change of scenery.

The voice talent matches the artwork in its high quality. This is particularly important in this game, as listening to language pronunciation is vital. The actresses easily switch between Esperanto and Japanese in a natural-sounding way. Great praise must be given to voice actresses for Rin and Ruka, Nagatsuma Juri and Uchida Shuu respectively, who convincingly stuttering and struggling over the languages their characters are learning while still being comprehensible.

Sadly, I found the soundtrack to be severely lacking. The game opens with an intro song, accompanied by animation, which was nice for a listen or two but I quickly grew tired of it. This is the most praise I have to offer the music. Most of the tracks are boring at best and at worst grate on the ears with discordant and irritating sounds. If I had not been playing the game to review it I would have disabled music after the first hour.

Finally, I cannot conclude my review of The Expression Amrilato without talking about the educational aspects and value of the game. For those of you who may not have known or have forgotten, when I am not writting about gay anime I am a teacher and spend a great deal of time studying pedagogy. Educational software can be an amazing tool for teaching, as it offers three key benefits, feedback, increased engagement, and interactivity. Using these criteria and just some of the knowledge I have gained from spending my entire life in school, although not always as a student, I examined how The Expression Amrilato teaches Esperanto.

The language is primarily taught through quiz-based learning. There are seven lessons which build on each other and the player then answers questions on. I was surprised by the variety in these quizzes, as they are not always just spouting the vocabulary word to name an object but can involve sentence and grammatical construction as well. Some of them are quite creative, such as when learning the parts of the body the player clicks on Ruka to identify the word she gives. These quizzes can be accessed independently after playing through them via the main menu and there is a Juliamo dictionary, although this is unlocked much later in the game than I would have liked.

Outside of the quizzes, new vocabulary and grammatical rules are often given and old ones reviewed, which appear as little pop-in at the side of the screen that gives pronunciation and spelling. Some gameplay sections of the visual novel have Rin complete actions that review previous lessons, such as going out shopping and needing to name the foods she buys. I enjoyed these sections in particular, as they felt more compelling to me than the quizzes ever did.

Given the criteria for education software, The Expression Amrilato does an okay but not amazing job. It does offer instant feedback, telling the player if they got a question wrong and giving them the correct answer, and has limited interactivity. However, on this front, I cannot help but wonder if the medium is holding the game back. The player never has many complicated choices or questions, and cannot write in answers or construct sentences. Instead, the quizzes and story sections are limited almost exclusively to multiple-choice selection. Engagement is probably where the game shines most, as it has a deep story and amazing art to compliment the learning.

The Expression Amrilato is a unique and enjoyable experience. The story has surprising depth, although it did little to break out of genre tropes. The game’s artwork is stupendous, giving both quality designs and backgrounds and a plethora of great CGs. The yuri romance is reliably cute and serves as a fun framework for learning Esperanto. While not pedagogically perfect, you will get out of the game what you put into it and, with a bit of work, you should walk away with some basics of the language and a big smile from those animated lesbians.

Ratings: Story – 7 Characters – 8 Art – 9 Voice – 7 Music – 2 Education – 5 LGBTQ – 5 Lewdness – 2 Final – 7

Review copy provided by MangaGamer

You can purchase The Expression Amrilato from Steam, Mangagamer’s website, and other digital storefronts.

Mangagamer is offering free review copies to any and all educational institutes that endorse Esperanto learning.

#reviews #yuri #the expression amrilato #visual novel #mangagamer #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#queer #gay #anime #manga #game #video games #lesbians #girls love #gl

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fasa-umich · 4 years ago

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Bea Fandiño, FASA 2020-21 Co-President

One Last Time

We’re gonna teach them how to say goodbye...

3/19/2021

Wowee, what a whirlwind of a year. These past twelve months have been filled with so much to be proud of—I even started a list of “Proud Mom Moments” last May so I could document all the small triumphs worth recognizing. It’s as if I’ve been planning out this testimonial since my election into the Co-Presidency, so I only laugh as I try to put all these thoughts to paper the day after my testimonial was supposed to be done (sorry ading Janielle—Filipino time, am I right?).

“Pick up a pen, start writing.”

I want to start off by saying that this year was not easy. It wasn’t for anyone. Our board came into our tenure hitting the ground running, full of visions and concrete plans for FASA, only to have them thwarted time and time again by circumstances out of our control. Let it be known that if this was a normal year, our board would have absolutely crushed it. x1000.

But it wasn’t a normal year. And you know what? We still crushed it. We changed the game. And while it can be so easy to focus on what could have been, doing so would distract us from celebrating everything that was.

This was the mentality Izzy and I pushed at the onset of the summer. Yes, FASA has traditions. There are certain aspects of our programs that everybody loves and expects to see each semester. But FASA is also dynamic. Every year, boardies are challenged with finding the balance of upholding tradition while trying new things and pushing the boundaries. And with the nature of this year, there was no better time to challenge ourselves to do the latter. Because we wanted to do more than just “survive”—we were ready to reach new heights.

Pinay Power looking fire as hell

So what exactly was FASA this year? If I had to choose one word, it’s resilient. Bouncing back after each hurdle, our boardies refused to give up on this org; as did our members, who stayed with us through it all. PCN can’t happen in person? Cool, let’s turn it into a frickin’ MOVIE. Can’t have big group gatherings? Okay, let’s leverage our FAM’s to build stronger small-group bonds. Can’t travel to external orgs? No big deal, let’s organize virtual discussions with our Michigan Philippine Student Associations and our fellow Latinx friends on campus. Even in the face of adversity, FASA resiliently remained rooted in culture, tied together in family, and strengthened by our dedication to the community.

Pop quiz: What are the three ~pillars~ of FASA?

None of this could have been accomplished without the perseverance of our board. Without Janielle’s commitment to high quality. Sean’s willingness to ask important questions. Josh’s contagious, positive energy. Kris’s flexibility and open mindedness. Christine’s constant, uplifting support. Lauren’s willingness to step up for anyone and everyone. Angelina’s dedication to collaboration. Jason’s careful consideration for vision and purpose. Jolene’s innovative ideas. Estelle’s passion for navigating cultural discussion. Kate’s constant communication and initiative. Sam’s critical eye when we’re overthinking things. Kaitlyn’s honesty with what she believes is best. Izzy’s never-ending drive to make sure each person feels heard and supported. To my boardie family, you are an absolute inspiration. Your work ethic is unmatched, your care invaluable, and your determination a force to be reckoned with. It has been a true honor to work with you, to learn from you, and to be your friend.

“And I know we weren’t perfect, but I’ve never felt this way for no one.”

When people ask me what my favorite aspect of the Co-Presidency is, I actually find a strong parallel with my past experience as Performance Chair. In performance, you get to see people grow throughout the year, building up unique confidence and boldness through cultural expression. As Co-President, I had the honor of seeing that growth extended as I watched those same individuals rise as leaders and come to own their position in FASA. Through the trials and successes, to be granted a front-row seat in that journey is a privilege, and I thank each of my boardies for letting Izzy and me join along for the ride. We definitely took a more hands-on approach this year (hopefully you didn’t get too sick of us, lol), and with that, an even deeper understanding of the efforts and motivations of the people who make it all happen. And being challenged to make the tough calls, actively listen to what people have to say, take action to move forward, and use my voice to stand up for what I believe in, I learned just as much from my boardies as they (hopefully) did from me. Even as Co-President, there is always more FASA and Filipino culture to explore, as well as more to learn from those around you.

“I wanna talk about what I have learned, the hard-won wisdom I have earned.” -Boomers

On that note, FASA would not be standing so tall—well, as tall as a Filipino can be—today if it weren’t for our general members. To my first years: Your energy is what kept FASA fueled this entire year. To my sophomores: Thank you for sticking with us, engaging with our programs, and keeping FASA a part of your life. To my alpha dings juniors: Literally, I can’t imagine life without you. To my grad student population of ~2 (and growing!!): You are history in the making! Keep the momentum going! And to my seniors: I’ll save the sappy goodbyes for when you leave my life forever in a month (mom and dad, I already know I’m gonna cry and you’d best believe I’m bringing you down with me). But in all seriousness, your constant support over the years has shaped FASA into the community we know and love.

Like I said before, FASA is dynamic. It’s ever-changing. But even if the FASA 10 years from now is different from the FASA we know today, the impact we have made on each other’s personal and cultural journeys remains true. That’s the beauty of this family—stripping away the official title and positions, at the end of the day, we’re all just defining our own Filipino American experience together. And though FASA will continue to change, that personal impact is something that will stand the test of time.

“No matter where life takes us, nothing can break us apart...I just wanna be with you.”

Okay yeah yeah, I know I’m a sap, just let me be Feelings Chair for once. Before I wrap things up, there are a few people I want to acknowledge:

Mai-Ly and Elisa: X FAM BEST FAM!! Seriously, you should be incredibly proud of yourselves as FAM Heads. X FAM broke records this year, and I could not be more happy with the top-tier music videos, hella extra [exclusive] merch (other fams be jealous), COASTERS (lol), and overall stronger fam. Thank you for putting up with my sometimes overly Type A agendas and being so flexible amidst the craziness.

Kris and Josh: Long! Live! FASA! Performance! You guys were faced with a lot of difficulties this year. But in the end, you kept performance not only alive, but also fun and something members looked forward to, whether virtually or in-person. I am so incredibly proud of you and honored to have been your dancer :).

Izzy: The Isa to my Bella, the Pierogies to my Beaf. Thank you for being the absolute best co I could possibly ask for and the most amazing friend in the world. You challenged me to keep the big picture in mind and were integral in helping all of us (especially me) balance hard work and fun. As someone easily caught up in the grind and instinctively expecting others to be the same, you kept me in check and indirectly reminded me to take a breather and make sure board was enjoying what they were doing. I will forever have a love-hate relationship with our three- to six-hour calls, and you will always have a spot in my GCal for a Thursday night meeting-turned-dinner-turned-therapy session. It baffles me to think that we weren’t that close before 12 months ago. Thank you for being not only my inspiration as a leader but also my constant as a friend.

Team Isabella 4 Life

So where do we go from here? Admittedly, we couldn’t do everything we wanted to do this year. Izzy and I had a vision for FASA, and it can get discouraging when you’re not able to see your vision through. But at the end of the day, we had to accept that we might not be able to reach the end-goal. If the best we could do right now was focus on the present, make the most for our current membership, and set FASA up for future success, then we were gonna give that our all. And if the INCREDIBLE drive and work ethic of our Interns is an indicator of anything, I have full confidence in the passion, leadership, and people that will continue to join our organization and further its growth. FASA is in good hands—I can’t wait to see where it goes next.

“Your position is so unique.” “So I’ll use it to move them along.”

Looking back on why I ran for board in the first place my freshman year, I remember wanting so desperately to be able to give back to an organization that had given me so much. Thank you, FASA, for giving me the opportunity to do just that. Whether as a general member or Performance Chair or Co-President, I hope I’ve been able to create that safe space that makes FASA feel like home. I said it last year, but I will say it again—FASA, thank you for trusting me. It’s been an honor growing with you.

Mahal na mahal kita,

Bea Fandiño, FASA Co-President

#FASAPrez #2020.21

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mendesmelancholy · 6 years ago

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Iris [Part Three] - A Shawn Mendes Fic

Part One // Part Two (this part can be read with or without reading the first two) Synopsis: Part three of Shawn meeting an interesting girl after one of his shows. Warnings: NSFW (SMUT), alcohol, swearing Word Count: 7k Author’s Note: Part three of Iris because I lowkey really wanted to write a smut. This is also dedicated to @qrangr who adores my writing and hypes me up so much and helped me work through some ideas. I adore Kendal and hope she enjoys this with all her heart. Taglist: @shawnsunflower @shwnmndsx @tnhmblive @someoneunimportantxx @justordinaryjen @versacebutera @xmtd5 @chubsluda @hehemendes @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson @lovingchildperson @sunshineeashton

Shawn stands up, pressing her tightly to him as he bends down and drops a peck to her forehead before grabbing her hand and excusing himself from her group of friends. She follows along, threading their fingers together and saluting to her friends as they whistle and laugh.

As they weave their way through the crowd back to his bodyguard, she hopes that Shawn actually does want to see her again. Because what she felt when she kissed him… she needs to feel it for the rest of her damn life.

“How do you want to do this?” Shawn yells over the music tentatively. Iris looks up at him, the drink swimming in her eyes and clouding her thoughts.

“What do you mean?” She slurs slightly, straightening her shoulders and doing her best to appear as sober as possible, wanting to remember this night for the rest of her life. Shawn bends down to her height and presses his lips right on the shell of her ear,

“Do you want to go through the front door or the back? I don’t know,” he hiccups a little, “If there’s anyone out there waiting for me.”

“I don’t care if people see me, but if you have to stop and say hi, you can,” Iris shrugs, resting her head on Shawn’s shoulder for support. His lips quirk into a small smile, admiring her drunken state before feeling worry creeps into the back of his mind,

“You sure you wanna do this?” She heavily rolls her head away from Shawn, quirking an eyebrow at him and tilting her head to the side. She can’t help but notice how dense her head feels and the way her legs ache from the angle in which her feet are in her platforms but still smiles, a signature Iris grin, at Shawn.

“Is that even a question?” Her precise eyebrow quirks up even higher if possible.

“Just checking, darling,” he returns, kissing the side of her head again. Shawn looks around the room, grabbing the attention of his bodyguard and flicking his head towards the door. Jake understands the message, grabbing Shawn’s leather jacket from the booth they had been sitting in earlier with a smirk on his lips and meets the two at the door.

“Oh, I need my bag,” Iris hums, pressing her head against Shawn’s chest. The alcohol is making her lazy and sleepy and cuddly in a way she doesn’t like to admit she likes. She fumbles for her phone in her pocket, sliding the coat check slip out of her phone case and getting ready to go collect it.

“Can you go get Iris’s purse from coat check and then check and see if there’s anyone outside waiting?” Shawn asks Jake and he nods wordlessly, dropping his left eye into a wink at Iris and taking the paper, slipping into the crowd again slipping out the front door. Shawn moves him and Iris out of the entrance and to the side, waiting for his bodyguard to return. Iris is looking up at him with blown pupils and a lazily, confident smile and Shawn can’t help himself when he leans down and captures her lips with his. He initiates the movements, which are slow against her lips because this time, they’re not in a rush.

Shawn stands in front of her, craning his neck to reach her small stature. He feels her stand on her tiptoes in the way that her height changes and he can’t contain the grin that crosses his lips. She’s somehow adorable and unbelievably sexy at the same time. He grabs at her waist, steadying her and pulling her even closer to him. Her curvaceous chest is pressed against his firm abdominals and her toned tummy is flush against his straining cock, giving him some relief of the tightening in his jeans, but not enough. She runs her nails up his chest and around the back of his neck, interlinking her fingers in his curls and keeping them there. The push and pull of their lips are gentle, careless and yet, sultry.

Shawn gently pushes his tongue against her bottom lip and she accepts, sucking on the tip of his tongue with slow wanton and his fingers grasp even tighter at her fleshy sides. When she releases, she meets her tongue with his and allows him to press his own into her mouth. Their movements are languid and a little bit romantic. Shawn’s head is floating, his body fully consumed and his mind submerged in what is Iris. The way her mouth moves against him, the way her body is firm against his, the smell of her perfume, the silkiness of her dress under his fingertips.

And Iris’s mind is coming out of the fog of intoxication, being awoken by his electric fingertips and his utmost attention to her lips. She permits herself to bask in the finality of the end of her teasing. She accepts the affection from his mouth and the press of his body against her. And she loves every second of it. Her calves begin to pulse with her being on her tiptoes for so long, but she can’t focus on the pain when the only thing occupying her mind is pleasure. Scratch that, the only thing occupying her mind is Shawn.

The kiss doesn’t break until both of their lungs start to burn at the lack of oxygen, but neither can find the strength to break apart. It’s Jake who ends up separating them with a clearing of his throat. Shawn groans as he pulls away and Iris can’t help the smile and small laugh at his reluctance.

“We’re good to go,” Jake says to Shawn, handing Iris her clutch and Shawn his leather jacket so he can cover his hard shaft and leading them out the front door. There’s only a couple of fans awaiting Shawn, their teeth chattering and their legs pressed together to keep their heat in. Iris’s attention turns to Jake who’s guiding her away from the group of girls, where Shawn approaches them, giggling and his jacket in front of his middle. The cold, Dublin air awakens Iris from the slow, sluggish movements of her intoxication with a bitter nip to her bare skin. Iris unintentionally shakes her head at the fog rolling off of her. She nods at Jake with a smile, looking at Shawn who’s laughing and talking to his fans. She turns away to avoid their curious glances and whatever questions they may have for Shawn. She looks at the Liffey River and the lights gleaming off the water in the night air.

Dublin is alive in this hour, the old and new streets intertwining, carrying drunk, high and sober people home or to their next destinations. The air doesn’t smell of seawater, but rather a clean, unmistakable cold chill and happiness that is Ireland. She can hear various clubs, bars and pubs playing so many different genres of music while people enter and leave, passing through or staying for hours, depending on where they are in their lives. Iris feels a small smile growing on her lips at the thought of how fortunate she is to live in a country where she is safe and secure and happy.

Shawn approaches, slinging an arm her shoulder and startling her slightly,

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just wondering when you’re gonna get the gall to bring me to your hotel,” she playfully responds, not willing to admit she was a person who took her time to admire the simplicity and beauty of the world. Shawn quirks his lips into a smile, kissing her silky hair and beginning to lead them down the old cobblestone road to the main road, parallel to the river.

“You up for a walk?” Shawn asks, wanting to enjoy the city when he was so easily hidden in the dark, “It’s only a couple blocks.”

“Where are you staying?”

“The Spencer.”

“Ooh, lush, but then again you are a pop star,” she teases, helping guide Shawn along the roads she’s incredibly familiar with. Jake walks in front of them, minding his own business as the night air engulfs Iris and Shawn in their little conversation before the air finally gets to Iris and she shivers. Without a second thought, Shawn grabs his coat from where he was holding it against his crotch and slides Iris’s bare arm in one of the arms of the jacket and moving to help her into the other one.

“Thank you,” she smiles, biting her lip and looking up at him with a kind look in her eyes. A wall is coming down, Shawn thinks to himself and he can’t help but place a gentle kiss on her forehead,

“My pleasure,” he hums, throwing his arm around her shoulder again. She leans into his touch, the night awakening her senses and her steps become steadier and evener.

Shawn had immediately felt the alcohol leave his system when he saw his fans standing outside of the club. He knew he was still intoxicated, but he did his best not to show it. His giggling was a dead giveaway that he had certainly been drinking, yet wanted to put his best image forward for the girls who had been waiting for what could have been hours to meet him after the show. He took his time, chatting with them, allowing their conversations to snap him out of his haze and their pictures to remind him that they’d cherish this moment for months and he couldn’t disappoint them.

Jake can sense the dynamic between the two shifting, the apparent lust has faded into the background whilst they cuddle up against each other like a couple. He smiles to himself, keeping his back to them as he directs them down the streets and to the hotel. It is quiet whilst Shawn admires what Iris had been admiring moments before he interrupted her. She closes her eyes, basking in his expensive scent and letting sleep crawl into her cheeks as she lets out a yawn.

The sound interrupts Shawn from his thoughts and he cracks a joke, “Gonna fall asleep on me, eh?”

“You’re comfy,” she admits without thinking, “I like it.” She adds. Shawn felt his heart thud at her admission.

“Good, you’re cuddly.”

“Don’t tell anybody,” she jokes, half meaning it and half not.

“Swear,” he repeats from earlier in the night and he gets a crack of laughter out of her. He beams to himself, holding her even tighter as they get closer to the luxe hotel. When they step in the lobby, the warm air is a sigh of relief.

“Do I take the same elevator with you or a different one?” Jake jokes and Shawn can tell he’s being serious. Iris laughs at Jake’s comment,

“You’ll be fine. As long as this one,” she jabs a thumb at Shawn, “Can keep it in his pants.”

Jake laughs in return, guiding them to the elevators and pressing the ‘up’ button. Shawn’s arms never leave Iris’s shoulders as silence envelopes the group until the ‘ding’ from the elevator sounds and they step in the awaiting doors. When they shut and begin to lift the group, Shawn looks down at Iris in his leather jacket. It swallows her whole and makes it look like she has nothing on underneath it. It falls to her midthigh and covers her hands and Shawn can’t tell if he’s turned on by the sight of her looking like she’s wearing nothing but his jacket, or completely smitten with the way the jacket gives her sweater paws. When the elevator doors open on his floor, Jake leads them to the very end of the hall, sending them a wave as he enters the room closest to them. But, Shawn motions to the door at the end of the hall, facing the elevator doors. It’s a suite and Iris can’t help but roll her eyes with a smile.

“Of course, Mr Popstar has a suite,” Iris coos, turning to look up at Shawn. He laughs before shushing himself.

“You have the door key, princess,” he mimics her tone. She rolls her eyes and turns to the door, searching the leather jacket’s pockets for the key. When she finds it and slides it through the door, they enter the hotel. The undertone of the scent is familiar to Iris from when she had spent a week in this hotel before moving to Dublin. But what overwhelms it is Shawn’s distinct smell. His cologne, his laundry detergent and his skin chemistry mix with the undertone and bask the room in a gloriously rich and delicious scent that sends Iris’s blood rushing.

Shawn shuts the door behind them, locking it, flicking on a light switch that turns on the lamp next to the bed and Iris turns to look at him. She kicks off her platforms and tosses her bag somewhere, looking up at Shawn with eyes that have lust slowly leaking into the corners. Shawn nearly growls at the sight. When she’s shuffled her shoes to the side, she’s a full foot shorter than him and he can’t help how unbelievably attractive it is that she’s short and curvy and fucking gorgeous. She slowly saunters up to him, his leather jacket squeaking with her movements and slides her hands up and around to the back of his neck. She purses her lips and cocks her head,

“We’re here. What are you waiting for?” Iris’s voice is sultry and something in Shawn’s chest snaps. This time he does growl and pushes his lips against hers without a second thought. She opens her mouth without prompting and allows his tongue to caress her own. His grip immediately finds purchase on the curve of her ass, underneath his jacket but over her silky dress. He kneads the flesh, causing her to mewl into his mouth. He swallows it with his lips, backing her through the entrance of the suite and into the room. She shrugs the jacket off her shoulders, moving her arms before her hands connect with the skin that’s been exposed to her hungry eyes all night. She marvels at the way her tongue connects with his and the piercingly cold metal of his necklaces against his firm chest. Her senses are lit completely on fire and she wants nothing more to have Shawn set her entire soul ablaze too.

Her cold hands run down his warm abdominals, causing them to flex at the sudden temperature change and she sighs into his mouth again. He smiles, moving his lips away from hers and she whines, something Shawn quirks his eyebrow at but doesn’t say anything while he brushes his lips along her cheek, to her ear, leaving a gentle peck and descending to her neck. She tilts her head back, her hoop earrings resting in her hair as welcomes his movements. Shawn moves his hands and caresses them up her sides, over her ribs and to her chest, where her cleavage had been apparent all damn night. His large hands almost swallow her breasts, but they bulge and leak from beneath his grip and he groans because she has such nice fucking tits.

Iris lets out a sigh, fumbling to unbutton his silk shirt and slide it off his broad shoulders. Her hands don’t move from his skin, brushing against the hairs on his chest and over the smooth skin of his traps and removing the fabric. Shawn begins to mouth and suck and bite and kiss her neck, removing his hands to rid himself of the shirt. His hands are back on her breasts before she can comprehend that he ever moved his grip. She looks behind her, before moving and pressing her ass against the desk which is closer to the door then the bed. Shawn moves his hands to hoist her against the surface and immediately uses his hands to spread her legs, his fingers ghosting dangerously against her inner thighs and pressing them apart. His hips settle in between hers.

He’s leaving mark after mark on her neck, not letting up as her hands smooth over the soft, hot skin of his back, trailing her nails every so often. He bites and licks and soothes and sucks an even trail down her neck, one after another after another. She sighs and moans and whimpers with each scratch of his teeth, each suckle of his swollen lips and lap of his skilled tongue. All she wants to do is give him the same attention back but he has her so weak under his touch that she can’t even think about moving or disrupting him.

With small pants, Shawn moves his lips to trap hers, their lips pushing and pulling against each other as Shawn’s eager fingertips move from her breasts and to the straps of her dress. She’s scratching down his torso with her acrylics and Shawn melts on the spot, the inevitable strain is his jeans growing with each heartbeat and pulse and movement of Iris’s body against his. He pulls at the spaghetti straps of her dress, guiding them down her bare arms, alighting them with goosebumps, his calloused fingertips a stark contrast to his gentle movements. He’s taking his time, memorising every part of, what he considers to be the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

She concentrates on every movement of his lips, the ripple of his muscles underneath her touch and the way his hips grow closer and closer to her own with every second that passes. She shrugs her straps off, letting half of the dress fall and bunch at her waist, exposing her light pink lingerie top to Shawn. He pulls away, sucking in a breath at the way her breasts are pushed up and together by the bra. He exhales and groans, causing Iris to smile to herself, his eyes never breaking from her chest. But he briefly glances up at her, looking for permission. She nods and Shawn’s glance is right back where it is, his hands moving along her ribs and to her back, where he grasps the clasp in his hands and tries to undo her bra. It takes him a moment, but he unhooks it and her breasts bounce at the removal of its confines. He slides the bra straps down her arms and throws it somewhere in the room, cupping the tender skin in his hands. He doesn’t hesitate to purse his lips around one of the peaks, sucking on it and sucking a sigh out of Iris’s mouth. She moves to lightly thread her fingers through Shawn’s curls, digging the tips in slightly and eliciting a moan from Shawn.

He’s mouthing at her nipple like it’s his last meal, licking and suckling, nibbling and soothing, kneading the other breast in his hand, admiring how full and heavy they felt in his hand. Iris’s sitting against the desk, her back arched into his touch and basking in the sensations Shawn is caressing her with. With her head thrown back and eyes shut, she traces her fingers down his stomach, landing on his belt buckle and fumbling with it. She releases the belt, undoing the button and zipper on his jeans. She pushes the hem down his legs, tracing patterns over his briefs, trying to provide him with the same kind of attention he’s undividedly given her.

When he switches to the second breast and has left love bite after love bite on her chest, she pushes him back slightly. He pulls away in confusion about to ask a question before she pushes herself off the desk onto her knees in front of him.

“Oh,” Shawn whispers. Iris looks up at him, the lust leaking into her eyes earlier fully dominating her pupils and the hunger she watches him with makes his stomach jolt. It’s unadulterated and so unbelievably sexual and Shawn can’t believe he has a woman as attractive as her on her knees for him. He watches with eager eyes when she leans forward, running the tip of her tongue along the outline of his cock in his Calvin Klein briefs. His breath hitches, feeling her small puffs of breath along the wet patch that had formed in the cloth. But then, his breathing picks up, as she licks him over and over again, adding pressure each time.

“Fuck, Iris,” he whispers again and she opens her eyes to look at him, not realising she had closed them, enjoying the way his hips are unintentionally pressing further into her face and the way his thick thighs are tensing at her touch.

Eventually, she teases the waistband of his briefs before slowly pulling them down his legs. Shawn’s breathing is so laboured that his heart has begun pounding in a way that only happens when he’s bounding off stage after an amazing show. His cock is released from the cloth and unceremoniously bounces, nearly hitting Iris. She bites her lip to stifle a giggle, but her eyes trace along his length and admire the man he truly is. He looks painfully hard and she wonders if she concentrates hard enough, if she could see the blood pulsing through his cock. She licks her lips, leaning in and allowing her breath to cast along the tip. He sucks in a breath before she leans in and mouths slightly, before sucking him into her mouth. She wraps her lips around him and protects him from her teeth, slowly testing the water as she bobs her head once.

“Oh, my, fuck,” Shawn stutters out, pressing his hands against the desk behind her, not wanting to touch her until she’s ready. She bobs her head, again and again, slowly gathering more and more of his length in her mouth. She takes one of her hands and wraps it around the base. She strokes what she’s unable to fit, taking him leisurely, shutting her eyes and enjoying the heavy taste of him in her mouth.

“Holy shit, Iris,” Shawn groans out, his grip on the desk edge growing so tightly his knuckles turn white. Then, she flattens her tongue in her mouth, running it along the base of his cock and he gasps. The hot, wet sensation of her mouth bobbing up and down on his cock makes his mind blank, his heartbeat racing with pleasure that he’s unsure any blowjob he’s ever had before has amounted to.

“Shit, fuck,” he curses, his stomach churning with an orgasm a lot sooner than he wants it to. But he keeps it at bay, allowing Iris’s mouth to work him in a way that has his knees shaking and thighs jolting with every delicate movement of her tongue at the bottom of his cock and her lips around his tip. She’s humming along him, savouring his taste and the way that he’s shamelessly moaning and sighing. She takes her free hand and guides one of his hands that is clutched to the desk to her hair and signals him to guide her. He threads his fingers through her hair and takes her suggestion, pulling and pushing, testing her each time to see how much of him she can take. When he begins to hit the back of her throat, feeling the way it clenches and presses against him, he tries to restrain himself, but she gladly lets herself choke on his cock.

“Iris, cm’ here,” he mutters, biting down on his lip as she looks up at him with doe eyes. She bats her eyelashes, once, twice, before suckling particularly harder on his tip, causing his knees to buckle. He pulls her up to him, pressing his hands against her jaw and kissing her harshly. She returns the movement, pressing her lips and tongue to his. Shawn doesn’t care that her tongue now tastes salty from his precum. This woman just sucked his soul out of his cock and now he wants to eat her pussy until she’s so fucked the only thing she can say is his name.

Shawn spins them around, leading her towards the large, silky bed. He picks up Iris and almost tosses her up the bed. She hits the bed with a soft giggle, looking up at Shawn who’s removing his jeans from his thighs and taking off his socks. He’s fully bare in front of her, crawling onto the bed and settling in between her thighs. She rests on her elbows, watching with a calm look in her eye, ready for whatever Shawn was about to give her.

He kisses her right knee, then her left then runs his lips down her shins before running them back up, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Her breathing starts to grow heavier, her lips covered in her saliva from sucking off Shawn glisten with each breath. Shawn’s watching every movement of her face, testing for her weak spots. When his lips reach the tops of her thighs, she’s sucked in a breath and holding it. Shawn’s eye drops into a wink before he gently removes the band of her thong. His fingers don’t leave her skin, tracing the fabric down her silky legs, before letting her kick off the fabric. He traces his fingers back up her legs, using his palms against her thighs to part her legs.

Her head falls back onto the bed as Shawn exposes her glistening cunt to his hungry eyes. It’s so pretty and perfect and Shawn can’t even bring himself to tease her as he licks a fat stripe along her lips.

“Oh, shit,” she whines, sighing out and tilting her head to look at Shawn. He has his eyes closed, his tongue savouring the sweetness, yet bitterness of her taste. He licks up again, over and over, causing Iris to sigh out and thread her hands in the silk sheets of the hotel bed. But, when he suckles her clit into his mouth, it’s game over.

“Oh, Shawn,” she whines, her hips lifting off the bed. One of Shawn’s arms threads under her thigh, lifting it over his shoulder and pressing his palm flat against her pelvis. He uses his other hand to gently tease her entrance. He’s suckling over and over again, using the tip of his tongue to lick over her clit and she’s whining so hard, unable to keep quiet.

When he slides a finger into her soaked core, that’s when she loses all sense of self. She’s simply being worked so easily by Shawn’s mouth and fingers. He curls a finger against her front wall, feeling for the rough patch when he finds it and gently caresses it.

She lets out a soft yet high pitched sound, somewhere between a moan and a whine. Her hips try and lift to meet his mouth and finger, but Shawn keeps it firmly pressed against the bed. His hips rut into the bed at the sound of her crying out because of what he’s doing to her. And then, he adds a second finger, moving his fingers to stretch her out. Iris is moaning so hard, her eyes are clenched shut and her fingers are digging so far into the mattress, it’s lucky a nail doesn’t break. She’s trying to rock her hips against Shawn’s delicious mouth, but he holds full control. Suckling and mouthing and never once taking a break because he wants her to cum before he’s even inside of her.

His fingers continue to gently rub at the spot in her heat, so incredibly well that her thighs begin to shake, and Shawn’s legs are tensing and untensing, trying to relieve the intense strain of his cock. And Iris can’t help the sounds spilling out of her mouth. Shawn’s mouth is wrapped tightly around her clit and she can’t help but feel the orgasm building and building and building in her lower tummy.

“Shawn,” she whimpers, moving one of her hands that were threaded in the sheets to the curls. She pushes them off his forehead, opening her eyes and watching the way his mouth completely unravels her. She is so unbelievably fucked and spent, sweat beading at her hairline and behind her knees as she gets closer and closer to her peak.

Shawn can feel the firmness of her g-spot increasing and the way her pussy flutters around his two fingers. He pumps his fingers, curling them right where he knows she needs it. He stops sucking on her clit, beginning to spell his name with his tongue,

“I’m- I’m gonna cum, Shawn,” she whines out, continuing to look at the way his mouth is making passionate fucking love to her cunt.

“Mhm?” He hums, his tongue leaving her clit momentarily, curling his fingers in her entrance, almost coaxing the orgasm out of her, “C’ mon, honey, cum for me.”

She tosses her head back, her back arching and hips lifting off the bed, feeling the spiral of her orgasm finally reach the peak. And then it drops, exploding and her legs shake. She can feel the vibrations of her orgasm rake through to her toes and the calm euphoria that washes over every muscle. She’s chanting Shawn’s name like a fucking prayer, not that she knows because she swears this is the best orgasm she’s ever had in her life. Shawn observes her like a hawk, the way her mouth drops open and the way her pussy clenches so tightly around his fingers and he can feel the fluid of her orgasm gushing along his fingers. And he’s so fucking proud of himself.

Shawn doesn’t remove his lips from her clit until her back hits the bed and she’s panting, pulling at his hair to get him away from her oversensitive clit. He removes his fingers from her throbbing, pulsing cunt and gently runs them along her soaked pussy. She sucks in a breath, fluttering her eyes open as her hips jolt away from his touch. He leans down to her entrance, licking up her release that’s begun to leak from her entrance. He brings his fingers to collect some before kneeling and bringing his fingers to Iris’s mouth.

She takes them in her mouth without objection, suckling on them the way she suckled on his cock earlier and Shawn quickly removes his fingers, the need to be buried inside of her unable to grow any larger. He gets up from the bed,

“Where are my jeans?” He asks breathlessly, thoughtlessly bringing a hand down to soothe his pulsating cock.

“I’ll tell you,” she breathes out, still catching her breath, “If you stop touching your cock.” She can’t help but admire the man that stands at the end of the bed, hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. His chest is heaving, the necklaces moving with each breath, his abs straining with every breath he takes. His face and neck are flushed red and she mentally reminds herself to mark up his neck when he’s buried inside of her. His veins are popping out of his arms as he moves his arm and she can feel her orgasm seeping into the sheets underneath her.

“Fine,” he removes his hand, his eyes flickering along the ground of the hotel room, looking for his jeans so he can get his fucking wallet.

“They’re-”

“-Ah-ha! Found it!” Shawn picks up the denim from the ground, fumbling for the wallet and the condom inside of it.

“We don’t need one,” she says, looking up at him honestly, “I’m clean. And I have the coil. Come on, I want to feel you,” she almost whines and Shawn without second thought drops his jeans and crawls back over her. He’s watching the way she watches him, their eyes never leaving one another. Her neck and chest are littered in forming bruises, her hair splayed out in a fan underneath her and her eyes are piercing.

Her hands reach out for him, smoothing the skin of his forearms and biceps, wordlessly begging him to get as close as possible to her. He settles in between her thighs, his cock slipping against her slick folds and he sighs out. He’s so close to being buried where he wants to be. Iris bites her lip, using one of her hands to guide Shawn’s lips to hers. He happily connects his lips to hers and she can taste her orgasm on his tongue and she recognises a slightly bitter taste that is similar to Shawn’s. Shawn uses one arm to hold himself up and then the other to hitch Iris’s leg against his hip. He then uses the same hand, grasping the base of his cock and searching for her entrance.

He presses once, twice and then the third time, his tip slips in and their moans are captured in the other’s mouths. Shawn moves his hand from his cock to her thigh, gripping it tightly as he slowly eases himself into her. She moans at the stretch, a loud, unfiltered moan and Shawn can swear his cock twitches. Her tight, warm walls welcome his length like they were made for him and Iris can feel his thick, full girth stretch into her cunt and her eyes water at how good it feels. Shawn tries not to rut his hips as she adjusts, but he’s panting and wants so badly to fucking move.

“Fuck, Shawn,” she cries out, her fingers digging into his back as he fills her up to her hilt, leaving an inch or so of Shawn’s cock uncovered. Her back is so arched her chest is pressed against Shawn’s and her lips move away from his to catch her breath. Shawn’s tummy is filled with heat and desire and finally, Iris gives him a signal to move.

He wastes no time, pulling out and sliding back in. Her walls contract around him and he tries to fill her up with his entire warm, bare cock. He hitches her other leg around his hip and thrusts a little farther, bottoming out and causing Iris to cry out.

“Fuck,” she cries.

“You feel,” Shawn pants, “so fucking incredible. So, fucking perfect,” he begins thrusting, finding a rhythm that has Iris digging her nails down his back so hard he’s certain she’s drawing blood. Shawn’s hips start to crash against her, picking up his pace as he buries his head in her neck. With each thrust, Iris lets out a loud, incredibly pornographic moan, unable to contain how Shawn is ramming into her sensitive heat. It feels so good all Iris can do is just lay there and take the pounding that Shawn is unapologetically delivering to her. She buries her head in his neck too, mouthing at his neck trying to silence herself. She’s leaving hickey after hickey, biting down, but Shawn’s hips are still unrelenting as he pounds into her. He’s sweating, his pleasure heating every single nerve in his body, and he’s probably dripping onto Iris but her sweat collects with his and soaks the sheets.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, sweetheart,” he mutters, their lips and teeth clash against one another with each soul pounding thrust. Each of their moans mixing with the other, and Shawn and Iris aren’t sure who’s moans belong to who but they don’t fucking care. Shawn swears up and down he’s never felt so fucking good in his entire life and all thoughts besides Shawn, Shawn, Shawn, Shawn have left Iris’s mind.

“Shawn,” Iris can’t bring herself to say anything else except his name because no fucking curse word or word could describe how good he’s fucking into her right now.

Iris can feel the tip of his cock at her cervix and it’s hitting it, almost painful but the way his girth is stretching her and the pace of his hips has her from ever focusing on it. Her moans escape her throat as she eventually gives up on trying to silence herself, throwing her head back and exposing her neck to Shawn. He’s so focused on pistoning his hips into hers, that he gets up on his knees, lifting her hips with him and thrusting even harder. Her mouth falls open and she can’t even make any sound. His chest is bulging, abdominals flexing so tightly and head thrown back. His eyes are squeezed shut as he thrusts over and over and over into her.

Shawn can feel his orgasm creeping up his stomach without any sort of signal other than the heat and the intensity building and building and he opens his eyes, setting his eyes on the most incredible fucking woman in front of him and thoughtlessly presses his thumb to her clit,

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” she jumbles together, her hand tangling in Shawn’s hair and the other now scratching down his chest, relentless. She clutches onto the silver of his necklaces, trying to ground herself with absolutely anything around her.

“That feel good, darling?” He pants, his curls bouncing along with her breasts with each slap of his hips against hers.

“Ye- yeah, Shawn, oh fuck-k, I’m-I’m, Shawn,” she’s stuttering, looking at the way Shawn’s focused on her body, her reactions, her face and she cries out before arching her back again. Her orgasm slams into her without warning and she goes so unbelievably numb, the wave of pleasure soaring through her veins and down her muscles, vibrating through her joints and she’s still, her mouth still parted so she can let out an actual scream of Shawn’s name.

Feeling her walls contracting and pulsating and hugging his cock sends Shawn over the edge, his own high crashing down on him and spilling into her. His mind goes blank and his fingers dig so tightly into her thighs he’s sure he’ll leave bruises, but fireworks burst in his stomach as he releases. His hips stutter and falter, doing his best to ride them through their highs and draw out as much of him as he can, but his body grows weak and trembles at the intensity of the orgasm running through his system.

They’re both panting, eyes shut before they open at the same time. Iris sends him a goofy smile, Shawn laughing a little, before unceremoniously falling on top of her. She smiles, curling her arms around his back, keeping him inside of her for just a little longer. She runs her fingers along his sweaty skin, trying to soothe him, and herself, as their bodies recover from their highs. She begins to feel herself leaking and she scrunches her face up. Shawn must feel it too because he lifts himself from her, gently pulling out, leaving her whining and gushing onto the bed.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” she whines, closing her eyes and running her fingers through her sweaty scalp. She moves to get up but has no control over her muscles. She’s been fucked into the mattress.

“I’ve got you, darling,” he smiles, getting off the bed and walking into the bathroom. He comes back with a warm, wet cloth cleaning in between her legs and holding it there for a moment or two. He bends down and leaves a couple of pecks where the red spots from his fingers laid. She smiles at him, running her fingers through his hair. She can feel the sleep that originally taunted her earlier crawling into her mind and she hopes that she can fall asleep here.

“Hey, Shawn?”

“Mhm?” He hums, removing the washcloth and bringing it back into the bathroom.

“Can you get my purse?”

“Are you leaving?” He asks quietly, his voice emerging from the bathroom.

“No, I need my makeup wipes,” she smiles at him sleepily and Shawn can’t help but smile unashamedly, grabbing her bag and searching for her makeup wipes. He grabs them and gently tosses them to her. They land on her stomach and she can’t even move to pick them up.

“Can I ask one more favour?”

“Of course,” Shawn patters over and crawls onto the bed, in his naked glory, looking at her with so much fondness and kindness and attraction that Iris melts.

“Can you take off my makeup?” And without another word, Shawn helps her take off her lashes and wipe off her makeup, putting her lashes neatly on the bedside table next to her and throwing the makeup wipe in the bin near the bed. He helps her under the covers and pulls her towards him, her warmth smothering him in a way that is so comforting he could die. She curls up against his chest, her fingers mindlessly tracing and fiddling with the necklaces as Shawn leans over with a grin and turns off the bedroom light.

+++++

And when he stirs in the morning, he can’t help but smile with his eyes closed because he can feel her still pressed up against him. He tightens his grip and kisses the top of her forehead, before falling back asleep.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #sm #smtt #my writing

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