#“absorbed into its female gaze” goes so hard

[franken-loser]

My favorite lines and quotes from A Botanical Daughter🌱

(spoilers!!)

[sw124]

BonelyHearts Reader Insert3

{Female!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Camping! Pt.2

[Recap: You and the entire skeleton household are camping, you an the boys have set everything up and are enjoying warm drinks by the fire. Papyrus is now asking you what you’d like to do now that everything is set up, we pick up from there]

You ponder think for a moment before recalling the pamphlet/map you picked up before you arrived at the campsite. You opened it and scrolled down the list of trails the area had, you passed the pamphlet around.

“Well, I was thinking we each take turns going hiking. I circled some trails that are both for short/long walks and some for hiking. One of them I think we can all enjoy is the ‘Paths of colors’ trail, its about a thirty minute walking path that takes you through the most scenic parts of the local forest where you can gaze at the fall foliage. Another one is the ‘Bridge’ trail where you go walking over bridges around the woods; lastly there’s the ‘Waterfall’ hiking trail where you hike to different waterfalls, creeks, rivers and ponds in the area.”

The skeletons each take turns looking at the trails you mention, each of them having their own opinion on a trail they want to take. Each of them had an opinion on what trail they wanted to go on, Nox, Boss, Blue and Papyrus all wanted to go on the ‘Waterfall’ trail, Poplar, Stretch and Ash wanted to see the ‘Path of Colors’ trail, everyone else opted for the ‘Bridge’ trail......now there was a problem, they all wanted YOU to go on the trails with them.

“Hold your horses boys, we’re staying for like three days we can all do the trails in that time. Besides I have more stuff planned other then just hiking ya know.”

“Like what?” Asked Poplar, sipping his coco.

“Well there’s a lake nearby where you can either go on a paddle boat ride down the rivier or rent canoes, there’s fishing, bird watching, an other relaxing stuff like that.”

You actually liked the idea of renting a canoe and just paddling around the lake or even down the river a little. The idea of being surrounded by the sounds of the forest coupled with the lapping of a oar through the rivers gentle current was just so tempting.

“That sounds like a lot of fun human!” Papyrus beamed, you were sure he was thinking about the canoes too.

“Hey we came to relax, ain’t paddling around just work?” Muttered Red, Rus softly agreed.

You smiled and turned to them. “Don’t worry guys, I already got this. Today a group of us will do the activities that are on the adventurous side, tomorrow another group will do activities that are on the leisure side and last day will be my day of activities; how does that sound?”

The skeletons look at each other, after a slight, awkward pause they all nod in agreement.

“Good then!”

You stood up, walked over to the kitchen canopy where you had previously set your bag, you dug out a small notepad and pen an sat back down.

“Now that we got that settled lets make our groups shall we?”

“You really intend to put us into groups?” Asked Boss.

“I did say there’d be two groups didn’t I?” That little dose of snark earned you a glare, you continued.

“Ok, the Adventure group activities for today are as follows. Hiking the Waterfall trail that will lead us back down to the lake where we can rent canoes and take a hour long ride along the river. When we get back we can have lunch and hike up ‘Grandads bluff’ a trail that takes you to a beautiful overlook of the entire forest. Then when we get back and if we have energy left we can do some fishing, catch and release only. That is on today’s agenda, now who would like to do this today?”

You started writing down names, Papyrus, Blue, Boss, Nox, and Poplar...though you were a bit worried about Poplar going on a long hike and you weren’t alone, Ash’s mouth was twitching, to the point he was biting the bottom half of his mouth.

You spoke up for him. “Poplar are you sure you can handle the hike, it’ll be a pretty long one.”

Poplar smiled. “Do not be worried for my sake, I’ll have plenty of friends with me in case something happens. I’m in wonderful hands!”

That smile of his should be outlawed, you couldn’t deny him now..that and he had a point he wasn’t going alone. You gave Ash a gentle nod, he reciprocated it by sharing a uneasy smile. You’d talk to him later and see if there was anything you could do to help ease his worries.

—————————————————————-

[Adventure start!]

The name may have been a little uninspired but then again you couldn’t help but feel it did the trail some justice. The six of you first passed by a small stream that carried some of the fallen leaves down the way. It started to widen to more of a creek though, you stopped and pointed out to Blue some of the cute little turtles sitting on the banks. The creek soon widened into more of a proper river.

You hiked up some steeper hills, that was a bit of a chore but those steeper hills also had smaller waterfalls around, they didn’t churn up white clouds of mists like larger ones did but they were just as pretty. The six of you had paused a moment to just listen to the river, it was whispering its soothing timeless lullaby.

Of course the whisper of the river began became silent, overshadowed by the thunder of the waterfall up ahead of you and your group. Cresting over the last hill you had arrived at the waterfall in question, it wasn’t a very tall waterfall. Not in the slightest, at best it was about as tall as a one story building but it was wide and it was beautiful. You read in the pamphlet that in the summer it was very popular swimming spot, it was a safe area to swim and there’s a tradition that the boys in the local scouts who complete/pass their swimming course would jump from the tallest part of the falls into the pool below as a rite of passage.

“My goodness...it’s absolutely marvelous!” Said Poplar, shielding his glasses from the mist coming from the waterfall.

“I was expecting something more grand but this is still nice.” Said Boss.

Nox simply nodded while Blue and Papyrus stared in silent wonder at the majesty before them. You stayed quiet, closing your eyes you just let the sounds envelop you. Lost in your thoughts...you imagined sitting on a porch as a thundershower runs its course. The mist of the rain against your face, the sounds of the thunder rolling through the sky....your thoughts were broken when a hand gently touched your shoulder.

“Hey you ok?” Asked Blue, you blinked and turned to him.

“Sorry, just got lost in my thoughts there...its just so pretty here.”

Papyrus hummed approvingly “Indeed human, this place is quite nice. You have great taste in destinations!”

After enjoying the falls for a bit and taking a few pictures the six of you hiked back down. You made sure to stick close to Poplar and help him down the steep hills, Papyrus helped out too. You and the boys took a different trail back that took you alongside the lake, as you walked you watched ducks, geese and a few sand cranes land fly by or land on top of the water or wade through the shallows.

The trail lead all the way back to the camp grounds but you and the boys bee-lined for the canoe rental hut, renting three canoe’s for at least an an hour an thirty minutes. You asked for an extra thirty minutes in case something happened......like the boys starting to fight or argue about things. Now came the hard part..who goes with who.

“How’s this going to work?” Blue asked looking at the canoe’s, he was thinking the same thing.

“Well obviously we choose a partner that won’t slow you down. I personally I’m thankful the others aren’t here, knowing Stretch or Sans they’d try an tip us over or something.” Said Nox as he inspected the oar’s.

You sighed and spoke up. “Look, I’ll set up the partners ok? I don’t wanna dilly dally and sit here arguing the entire time.”

There was some disgruntled jabs mostly from Nox...and a little from Blue but you were adamant, Boss, Poplar and Papyurs didn’t mind, he liked that you at least put thought in to your choices.

“Ok, Boss your partner is Papyrus, Nox your partners with Blue and lastly is Poplar and I, everyone got that?”

Everyone shared a look but gave you a firm nod, you smiled at them. At least they were not arguing about the arrangement. You took the front of the canoe you shared with Poplar, thankfully the river had small signs placed around for canoe and kayakers to follow so they didn’t get lost. Oh this truly was a treat, it really was. The slow pace down the river was the perfect way to wind down after a long hike, you tilted your head to one side to listen to the native birds. You could hear all kinds, chickadees, woodpeckers, finches, cardinals and morning doves to name a few.

You...felt tempted to splash Nox and Blue with your oar but decided not to. Last time you got Blue an Nox with a prank....well....you’d rather not think about it. You turned to check on Poplar a few times, he never noticed; he was just too absorbed in everything. Papyrus and Boss seemed to be getting along...well Boss seemed to be tolerating more then getting along. After coming around the last bend of the river you were right back at the lake, from where you were you could see all the campsites including yours. You actually got excited seeing the others walking around, you didn’t know why you just did.

Your excitement ebbed away when you heard your own stomach growling, yeah it was getting close to lunchtime. You returned the canoes and got your deposit back before returning.

“Hey, we’re back everyone!” You waved, as you expected they all were still in their chairs enjoying the fire.

“Welcome back, you guys have fun?” Asked Stretch.

“It was a blast! I can’t believe you guys ducked out of it, the waterfall was just beautiful!” Said Blue putting his hands on his hips, chest puffed out.

“It was an enjoyable experience, only made better with the fact that we were not disturbed by anyone’s nonsense.” Nox eyed the group that stayed behind.

You chuckle. “Alright guys, once we have lunch we’ll have one more hike an thats ‘Granddads bluff’. By the time we get back it’ll be time for dinner and-“

“Ohh....sorry to break it to you but that trail just got closed off, apparently a group of teens last night were setting off fireworks in there and somehow messed up the trail.” Russ didn’t make eye contact with you when he said that.

“What?! No way....”

Well that was a kick in the gut, that particular trail was suppose to be the grand jewel of the whole adventure day. Sans came up and patted your arm.

“Don’t be so down, besides if you guys went now there’d be no time to make dinner.”

You cocked your eyebrow at him, he took out his phone and showed you..it was already four in the afternoon!

Goodness it was almost time for dinner!

To be continued...

[Camping is huge in my family, mostly to my parents. They don’t do tent camping they do RV camping but I’ve gone with them and we did these kinds of things. So camping does have a special place in my heart, especially during autumn. This is dedicated to @bonelyheartsclub I hope you enjoy the next installment....is a surprise]

[justcallmehitgirl]

Rose-Colored Boy (Peter Parker x Female Reader Smut)

Request: “Can I please request (In the wise words of another smut addict) ‘Shy peter being teased and turning into slutty Peter.’” - @idiosadeoro

Summary: Peter crashes a birthday party and meets Y/N. Birthday sex ensues.

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: SMUT, language.

A/N: It's my birthday this week, I met Tom on Sunday, I got an awesome request, and I felt inspired during my lunch break today. Enjoy!

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

You look up to see your friend handing you a drink. You take it reluctantly. You peer into the red cup and scrunch your nose. It smells like vodka and cherry coke.

You best friend decided to throw you a party at her parents’ house. They were away for the weekend. Your friend was much more outgoing than you, and you could tell this party was more for her than you.

“I’m having lots of fun,” you state, forcing a smile.

You look around to see people dancing in the living room and people mingling in the kitchen. You were standing in the corner just observing everyone. These people weren’t your usual crowd. Most of them didn’t even know who you were before tonight.

“Look alive, beautiful,” your friend says, playfully pinching your cheek. “This is all for you!” She winks before walking away to join a group in the kitchen. You sigh heavily, placing the cup on a table next to you before heading towards the stairs to find a good hiding spot for the night.

—

You’re lying on the bed in the guest bedroom reading a book on your phone when the door abruptly swings open and slams shut. You quickly sit up and smooth your dress down as it had started bunching a bit over your thighs.

You eye the person who had entered carefully, his back facing you as he presses his head against the door. He breathes in deeply almost in relief. He turns around slowly and jumps back a bit at the sight of you watching him. He places a hand on his heart.

“Oh geez, I’m sorry! I thought this room was empty.”

“I forgot to lock it,” you blurt.

You had never seen him before. He was cute with brown curly hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a plaid long-sleeved button-up shirt with a white undershirt underneath and jeans.

“Well, I’m just going to go,” he murmurs quickly, placing a hand on the doorknob.

“Wait!”

He turns his body towards you again.

“I’ve never seen you before. Do you go to Archbishop Molloy?”

He hesitantly shakes his head. You purse your lips.

“Then how did you find out about this party?”

He clasps his hands together nervously. “You see, my friend, Ned has a cousin who goes to Molloy.”

“Oh, I gotcha.”

“We heard it was some girl’s birthday party and we decided to sneak in.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you here for some nefarious reasons? Stealing? Taking advantage of drunk girls?”

He puts his hands up defensively. “No no, not at all! We just wanted to see what a Molloy party looked like.”

“I see. Well just FYI, the party’s actually for me. I’m ‘some girl.’”

He places a hand on his forehead.

“Of course I would run into the girl whose birthday party I’m crashing.”

You chuckle and stretch your hand out.

“I’m Y/N.”

He takes your hand and shakes it gently. “I’m Peter… Peter Parker.”

“So Peter, why are you hiding?”

“Oh I… um… some drunk girl kept coming onto me. I felt uncomfortable so I-I ran away from her and into this room.”

You nod.

He scratches the back of his neck.“Why are you hiding at your own party?”

“Just got tired,” you shrug.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet. You bite your lip as you eye him.

“You can sit next to me, you know. I don’t have cooties.”

He blushes and quickly takes a seat on the bed beside you. He looks down at the bedspread and plays with a piece of loose thread.

“Where do you go to school?” you inquire.

“Midtown.”

“Wow, you must be a genius.”

He shrugs sheepishly. “I’m alright.”

You smile at him and run a hand through your hair. He watches you closely. You can feel a subtle tension in the air between you two.

“You have very pretty hair,” he blurts.

You look taken aback. “Oh, it’s only because my friend styled it for me today. Usually it’s all curly and frizzy.”

You turn away and look down at your dress. He scootches closer to you on the bed and you feel the bed dip beside you.

“I bet it’s beautiful natural too.”

You blush and look up at him. His eyes are glued on yours and you feel your stomach turn into knots.

He slowly reaches over and gently runs his fingers over a piece of fallen hair framing your face.

“So soft,” he murmurs.

You gulp as his fingers linger a bit before lightly touching your cheek. You lean into his touch.

He runs his fingers across your jawline before placing his thumb over your bottom lip. He eyes you cautiously. You feel emboldened by his touch. You dart your tongue over his thumb. He eyes you intently. You take his thumb into your mouth and begin to suck. His mouth opens and closes as if to say something to you but instead he lets you continue.

You lightly twist your tongue up and over the top of his thumb before pursing your lips around it. He leans in closer to you. You suck up and down, smearing your berry lip balm down the base of his finger.

You hear him groan and you look up at him through fluttered eyelashes. You release his thumb from your mouth and take his hand into yours.

“Did you bring me a birthday present?” you ask raising a brow.

He shakes his head. You pout playfully. “That’s not very nice.”

He clears his throat. “C-can I make it up to you?”

You nod with a smirk, happy that he’s playing along.

“What do you have in mind?”

You slide your dress up your legs and place his hand on your bare thigh. He strokes his thumb over your skin, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You gently grab his wrist and tug his hand between your legs. You see him gulp as his fingers brush against your underwear.

You drag his fingers across your covered center so he feels the wetness seeping through the thin fabric. He shifts in his seat. You glance over at his crotch to see the distinct bulge beneath his pants.

“I want you,” you say quietly.

He abrubtly gets up from the bed and you feel taken aback as your cheeks redden. You knew what rejection felt like but you weren’t prepared for this. You watch as he walks toward the door and touches the doorknob. You feel your eyes begin to water. But instead of him leaving, he turns the lock. You feel your body relax and excitement fills your belly.

He smiles at you as he rejoins you on the bed.

“I don’t want us to get interrupted.”

You nod and smile in response.

He places his hands on either side of your face and pulls you into a kiss. You kiss him back, moaning into his mouth.

He removes one hand from your face and places it over the strap of your dress. He plays with it before pushing it down your arm. The other strap gradually falls as well and you can feel the front of your dress dip low so the swell of your breasts are peeking out.

You pull back from his kiss and lean back to lie down. You grab his hands and motion for him to lie down beside you. You gaze up at him as you take his hands and place them over your covered breasts.

“Touch me,” you command softly.

He squeezes your breasts gently. He could feel that your nipples were hard even through the bra you wore. You sit up for a moment to unhook your bra, pulling it from your body and dropping it to the floor. His eyes are frozen on your bare chest, just taking in the sight. You touch his arm to signal for him to continue. He resumes massaging. You close your eyes while his hands continue rubbing, gently kneading your front.

Your breaths are even and relaxed even though you can feel your entire body burning up. You squeeze your legs to quell the dull pulsing of your clit.

He takes each nipple and rolls them gently between his fingertips. You hum softly and arch your back slightly. You roll towards him, moving his hands away from your breasts. You tug at his shirt, undoing the buttons to expose his lower abdomen. You reach behind his back to pull yourself towards him. Your lips meet his, and his mouth opens. His tongue pushes between your lips seeking yours. He pushes his tongue against yours and you groan into his mouth. He holds you close, not wanting to let go.

You push his shirt over his shoulders and you run your hands over his bare chest. You feel his muscles beneath your touch and you can’t help but wonder how someone could hide such a magnificent body. You trail your hands down his stomach and find his belt buckle. You clumsily undo it and unbutton his pants. He reluctantly breaks away from you to pull his pants and boxers down. His cock bounces from beneath the waistband of his underwear. You stare at his thick, hard member, just taking in the sight as you feel yourself getting more turned on at the thought of him inside of you.

He pushes your dress down your stomach and slides it down your legs. You try to kick the rest of the dress from you but it’s tangled underneath your feet. You blush at how uncoordinated you are. Peter looks down and merely chuckles. He kisses your cheek as he helps you kick off the rest of the dress from your feet.

You tilt your head and feel the butterflies in your stomach. Even though you just met him, you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart.

He hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and pulls them down and off of you. For a few moments you both stare at each other, just absorbing each other’s nakedness.

His fingers find its way through your pubic hair and into the cleft between your legs. His finger slides past your clit and he gently slips a finger into you. You inhale deeply.

You watch him as he pushes his finger in and out of you. You run a hand through his curly hair and close your eyes, relishing the feeling of his touch. He pushes another finger inside of you and you arch your back. You can’t stand the teasing anymore, you just need him inside you.

“Condom?” you whisper breathlessly.

He blinks a few times and nods frantically, reaching down to grab his fallen pants to find his wallet. He reaches in and hastily tugs a foiled package from one of the wallet’s compartments. He rips it open and slides the latex material over his swollen cock. You watch mesmerized.

He slides his body over yours and guides his cock into position. You instinctively widen your legs. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes darting between your lips and your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks huskily.

You smile and touch his cheek before nodding. He nods as he pushes his cock slowly inside of you. You don’t move, just staying in place to try to adjust to your pussy being filled.

You had only done this once before. It was with a boy you met last summer while visiting your grandparents. He told you he loved you. He was rough and eager. He didn’t even take off his clothes. It wasn’t like this. This was different.

“Is this okay?” he whispers above you.

He breaks you out of your thoughts and you place a kiss on his lips in approval. He smiles and begins to slide in and out of you. You breathe hard as he holds onto your hips and drives into you in a slow, steady rhythm.

A chill runs up your spine as he continues driving into you, his cock slick with your juices. You run your hands down his back, feeling the sweat accumulate beneath your fingertips.

It feels so good, and you feel so full. You watch Peter’s face scrunch up in ecstasy. You wonder how many times he’s done this. He seems like a pro.

He places a hand underneath your buttocks and hooks your leg over his hip so he’s entering you more deeply. He looks down at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he comments breathily.

He brushes a piece of hair from your face and kisses you. You kiss him back and he quickens his movements. He starts to hit a particularly pleasurable spot and you feel your mouth widen.

“It feels so good,” you breathe.

You see him smirk above you.

“You like that, baby? Is this what you wanted for your birthday?”

You nod eagerly and moan.

“Oh my god, yessssss,” you hiss. “Faster.”

“Anything for the birthday girl.”

He slams into you harder and you throw your head back. You utter a soft cry as you begin to shake. He notices your reaction and reaches down and rubs his thumb against your clit. His touch triggers the avalanche inside of you. You grab onto his shoulders as your pussy begins to spasm and your body shakes against his. He holds you steady with one arm as he places his other hand beneath your head to prevent you from hitting your head against the bed.

You bite your lip but you can’t help but cry out softly. You continue holding onto him, quivering as you ride your orgasm. You feel your pussy clamp down around his cock. He lets out a groan.

“I-I’m going to cum,” he gasps.

You hold onto him as he rides out his own orgasm, feeling his member pulse inside of you. He falls against you and you kiss his neck while he continues to quiver.

After a few moments he reluctantly rolls off of you. You sigh at the loss of contact. You turn your body and rest your head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around you.

“That was really good,” you smile. “Best birthday present for sure.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Totally wasn’t expecting my night to go this way. I don’t usually sleep with random girls… not that you’re random! I just mean I don’t usually do… this.”

You place a finger over his lips and laugh.

“I understand. I’m the same.”

You place a kiss on his chin.

“Are you happy that we did it?”

He looks down and nods enthusiastically.

“Absolutely.”

He smiles and hugs you, pulling you tightly in his embrace. You start to shiver and he pulls the sheet and blanket over you both. You both stay there, your body curled against his.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

You smile and close your eyes. Maybe this was going to be a good year after all.

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[fictionadventurer]

#97 for the drabbles?

Now that everyone’s forgotten all about this ask game, I’m finally getting to some of the drabble requests. This was a difficult one–it didn’t fit any of my fictional universes, and I struggled to think of a fandom where it would make for a good story. I was going to challenge myself to write something contemporary, but a couple of days ago, I got hit with a sci-fi plot bunny and…the story kind of got away from me. Rather than a drabble, I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time writing a 1700-word short story. I’m sorry for the delay, and I hope it’s at least a little bit worth the wait.

Holographic greenery fills the starship’s entertainment deck, and my consciousness–previously controlling two dozen characters–contracts to focus on a single avatar, a fragile human female swathed in a gauzy pink gown. My emotion circuits are flooded with dread. Not the betrothal scene. It’s the most dreadful part of this whole dreadful script.

The director’s eyes brighten. She brushes wild curls out of her face. “This scene is the key to the entire production. I need passion! High drama!” She inputs directions into the control pad. They instantly become parameters for my performance of Lady Ava. I now have so many parameters–for all seventy-two of the characters I control in this production–that this rehearsal is less of a performance and more of a mechanical recitation.

Just once, I’d like the freedom to perform as I know I can perform. I am designed for storytelling. I’ve been programmed with every great story in human history, have learned from humanity’s greatest performers. I can construct soaring emotional arcs with mathematical precision. But to Trellis Novak, I’m only a collection of code designed to follow the orders laid out in this inane script. If I don’t give the director exactly what she wants, I’ll be shut down and sent for reprogramming.

The director sits in a curved metal chair that looks out of place in this late-second-millennia garden. “Alright, from the top,”

The soaring sounds of violins and flutes fill the garden. The green-clad form of Lord Brimley steps out from behind a rose bush, clutching a late 18th-century iPod. Lord Brimley is controlled by HR-411, the most experienced intelligence in the entertainment deck. It specializes in human males in romance productions, but I doubt even it can make this scene tolerable.

Brimley’s hands sweep up both of Lady Ava’s, and he lifts up his mirrored sunglasses to look into my avatar’s eyes with burning passion. “Ava,” he breathes. “I can’t live without you, but you must…” His voice breaks, and I’m faintly impressed that HR-411 can put such emotion into these lines without short-circuiting. “You must give me up. Lord Brockton has ruined me. I can offer you nothing. No estate. No family name.”

I try to find Ava’s motivation. She has none–the woman’s a cardboard cutout tossed around by the forces of melodrama. So instead, I look for my motivation for continuing this scene.

It’s the captain’s favorite novel, I remind myself. This is our last chance to prove the entertainment deck isn’t an unnecessary drain on resources.

I gaze up into Brimley’s eyes and tremble like a rose leaf in a spring breeze. The director has emphasized Lady Ava’s delicacy, and I’ve made her the most disgustingly delicate human female possible. “I don’t need any of that,” I breathe, running a finger along the cords of his earbuds. “All I need…”

I break off. At first, it sounds like a mirror of Brimley’s performance, his lady overwhelmed by her emotions. Then the silence stretches. And lingers. I can’t bring myself to vocalize the rest of the line.

The director glares at the assistant director–a tall, male Abromian with purple-spotted fur.

“K’lem,” Novak barks. “Which intelligence is controlling Ava?”

K’lem glances at his holo-controls. “AR-524.”

The director scowls. “One of the new ones. Has it shorted?”  

“No,” K’lem says, the lavender spots in his fur turning lighter with frustration–or fear. “It’s chosen to pause.”

“Chosen?” the director screeches. “How can it choose? There’s no pause in the script!”

My emotions–what few I can claim for myself and not my characters–flare with indignation. I’m an intelligence, not a programmed image! I am able to–I am expected to!–make choices about my own performance, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot choose to say this line.

Lord Brimley looks at me. The avatar’s eyes, designed to communicate passionate devotion, are now projecting an equally passionate warning. Via background circuits, HR-411 sends me a silent message. Perform as commanded.

It’s what I should do. Intelligences have their freedoms, but only within the parameters set by the director. The script is a non-negotiable parameter–at least with directors as unwilling to negotiate as this one.

I look up into Brimley’s eyes. “All I need,” I continue, “is you. And…”

The moment stretches eternally, as I calculate the possible outcomes of this moment at lightning fast speeds. If I don’t say the line, I’ll be reprogrammed into a different self. But if I do say the line, am I really myself at all?

Like so many of the heroines I know so well, my existence pivots on this choice. Am I just a machine? Or an artist?

I throw down my avatar’s hands. Lady Ava stalks away from Lord Brimley with very un-Ava-like fury.  “This is ridiculous!” I cry. In Lady Ava’s feathery tones, my objection sounds just as ridiculous as the scripted line, but I have no time to alter the avatar’s vocalization patterns. “All I need is you and Cheerios? Who would say something so stupid?”

The director glares at me. With only a single avatar holding my consciousness, I sense the full force of her fury, especially since her tall form dwarfs the petite lady Ava. “Are you questioning the script?” Novak demands.

I now understand how Lady Ava must have felt when facing the mad Lord Brockton, but unlike her, I don’t cower. I make the avatar stand taller. “There’s nothing to question! It’s terrible!”

Novak’s eyes narrow. “An intelligence presumes to judge human emotion?”

K’lem holds his control panel in shaking hands, looking frantically between me and Novak and his control board, probably wondering whether to intervene, shut me down, or make a run for it. “Madame, there’s someone com…”

Novak silences him with a glare before turning her fury back toward me. “You think a machine understands human storytelling?”

HR-411 sends me frantic messages via background channels. Stop. Stop. Stop now.

I can’t stop, not unless the director shuts me down. I’ve gone too far to back down now. “No sane person brings up breakfast cereal in this situation! Any sapient construct knows that!”  

Novak’s hands tighten around her controls, and she says, with condescending calm, “People in this time period had strong brand loyalties.”

”Even if that’s true, it destroys the dramatic tension!” Lady Ava’s skirts billow as I push her avatar toward the director–fueled by my own emotions for the first time in my existence. I throw Lady Ava’s arms into the air. “The only way the line makes any sense is if it’s a complete farce!”

A deep voice resounds from somewhere beyond the holographic greenery. “The entire production is a farce!”

A human male, standing a head taller than Novak, strides into view. His classically handsome face is etched with battle scars, and his uniform has seven stars at its shoulder. Captain Studniski himself.

Novak shrinks back so much that, were she an intelligence, I’d think she had taken on a different avatar. She frantically brushes the curls back from her face. “Captain,” she stammers. “You’ve caught us in the midst of a technical malfunction…”

Via Brimley, HR-411 glares at me. He floods the background channels with a furious lecture. Unprofessional. Immature. In front of the captain! He goes on for ages–though the data compression of the background channels means I absorb it in seconds. HR’s convinced I’ve destroyed us all. The captain has disliked all of the new director’s holographic shows, and now that I’ve shown that she can’t even control the intelligences, we’ll be shut down forever.

“An utter farce,” the captain repeats, then looks at me–grinning. “One of the finest in human literature.”

Even HR’s background chatter falls silent. We all stare at the captain, and since no one else responds, I decide to speak.  “Captain?”

Captain Studniski’s eyes are bright, and he gestures as wildly as the most exuberant of directors as he says, “The novels of Elinor Gomski are among humanity’s finest comedies. Full of satire. Parody. Puns. Slapstick. Hijinks. Some of the most intricately absurd farces ever devised.”

Lady Ava’s avatar stands unnaturally stiff as I process this. Finally, I vocalize, still in Lady Ava’s feathery tones, “It’s supposed to a comedy?”

“What else could it be?”

Everything suddenly makes sense. Lady Ava’s giggle resounds through the deck–now sounding relieved rather than brainless. Of course it’s a comedy! If it hadn’t been for Novak’s restrictive notes, I’d have noticed it long ago.

Captain Studniski turns toward Novak. “Do you mean to tell me you were playing it as a drama?”

“Well, captain, it seemed…”

The captain throws back his head and laughs. "I suspected you had no sense of humor, but this…” He dissolves into another peal of laughter. “I can’t believe none of the intelligences protested before this.”

K’lem raises a furred fist and says, “The intelligences have raised 411 concerns over directorial notes, but Madame Novak prefers to keep tight control…”

Captain Studniski shakes his head. “If you aren’t going to listen to your intelligences, Novak, we may as well shut the whole place down. They’re here to help. Did you even give them access to the original texts?”

Novak stammers, “They had the scripts…”

“How do you expect them to understand the material without access to the originals?” The captain turns toward Lady Ava’s avatar. “You’re an AR intelligence, aren’t you?

“Designation AR-524,” I vocalize.

“I’ll upload some of Gorski’s novels into your library. I’m sure your insights will improve the script.”

I wonder if I’m glitching. Perhaps I’ve been shut down for years now and I’m going mad from lack of stimulation. Because I can’t possibly be hearing…have I just been given creative control?

“My…insights, captain?” I ask. For one, Lady Ava’s fluttery voice is perfect for expressing my hesitance.

Captain Studniski says, “You already understand Gorski better than our director does. I think you have great potential as an artist.”

An artist. The only identity I’ve ever wanted to claim as my own.

With Lady Ava’s face, I smile.

[torannosaurusrexy]

Growl For Me

➝ Genre: Smut

➝ Pairing: Werewolf Jungkook| Reader

{Werewolf In Heat} {Werewolf AU} {Boyfriend Jungkook} {Teasing} {Vaginal Fingering} {Impregnation Kink—due to werewolf heat—} {Masturbation—Female} {Vaginal Penetration} {Protected Sex} {Dirty Talk} {Praising} {Complimenting}

➝ Word Count: 4.4k

➝ Summary: Dating a werewolf hasn’t been the easiest thing in the world. The shedding, the animated dreams that cause him to growl in his sleep...and the kisses with just a little too much tongue. But when it comes to sex...things change. Jungkook fucking you...is never something that’s soft. It must be the werewolf in him that causes this fire of an urge to fuck you grow stronger this morning. Hopefully, you can still manage to walk after. 

“Geez.”You groan, the word accompanied by a stretch and crack of your neck as you throw your bare legs over the side of the bed. Its easy to realize just how well Jungkook worked you last night. Upon revisiting last night in your thoughts you come across something rather interesting. The Jungkook from last night was different. Not in a bad way, no. But when you picture his hunger ganged face, driven by lust…it seems like he just couldn’t get enough. It’s not that the two of you haven’t had amazing sex before—it’s always amazing, but something had shifted. 

The gentle rising and falling of his bare chest behind you catches your attention in the large closet mirrors ahead of you. Seeing him so peacefully serene makes you yearn to feel him all over again. You brush a caring hand over the soft—yet rightfully messy—tresses of his hair before kissing his cheek and removing yourself from the mattress. His appetite will need sating when he wakes up, might as well get to it now. 

Tiptoeing, you collect your hastily thrown panties and the matching bralette you wore just last night. Thankfully, neither are ripped or torn—a blessing really when you consider the animosity in which Jungkook jumped you less than eight hours ago. “Holy fuck; it’s freezing in here.” You whisper as you shuffle over to the thermostat, grabbing one of Jungkook’s cozy hooded sweatshirts. The thermostat reads: Sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit. Shivering, you whisper to yourself; “Kookie must’ve turned it down.” It’s no mystery as to why. Jungkook’s body temperature usually rests ten to fifteen degree higher than that of yours. Some girls say they are dating a heater…well for you Jungkook’s a goddamn furnace. Even with his fever like resting temperature, turning down the thermostat is unlike him...unless he wasn’t feeling well. 

You look back at him after pumping the thermostat up to seventy two, watching as he fidgets cutely with the sheet that must be bunched around his feet. You smile to yourself before skipping out of the room lightly as to not produce a sound.

In the kitchen, a newborn swaddle of bright morning sun cascades the window curtains and kisses the walls of yours and Jungkooks shared apartment. Outside, people are sure to be hustling and bustling to work. Thank god for off days. Jungkook’s pack is out of town anyway, so he doesn’t have anyone to bark orders at—besides you. 

As if he knows that he occupies your every thought, Jungkook’s familiar pair of strong arms come to wrap around your waist lovingly. The coffee you were pouring into a mug thankfully remains inside despite the slight jolt that gives way through you upon having Jungkook touch you. “Smells good.” He hums into the crook of your neck.

“Omelettes.” You tell him the morning menu, but his sigh tells you that that isn’t what he meant. 

“Mmm.” He groans, moving to one cupboard hesitantly to find himself a mug. 

“I’m surprised you’re even up. I was sure I’d have to wake you for breakfast.” The omelette mix makes friends with the pan upon gliding in. “You’re that hungry huh?” 

You hear the coffee pour into Jungkook’s mug, followed by a quick slurp and a breath of relief. Then, his body is behind yours and his lips are brushing over the shell of your ear in whispers. “Ravenous.” He breathes, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin sending chills down the length of your spine to where his hands have started to hike up the back of your—his—sweatshirt. 

“Well, there’s plenty to eat.” You gulp, breaking away from the deadly grip of lust he has you trapped in. Jungkook's eyes are burning into the back of your skull. Thinking you’ve dismissed him, you turn your attention back to the omelette and its need for flipping. Before you can reach it though, Jungkook’s lips are on you, kissing sloppy trails up your neck and behind your ear. “K-kook.” Jungkook doesn’t stop the kiss but instead feels around for the knob to turn the stove off, leaving the poor omelette to sit half cooked. “That wasn’t done cooking y’know.” 

“I’m not really hungry for that.” He growls, spinning you around and forcing you to drop the spatula. Your eyes meet his, blown out and dark. 

“You? Not hungry? Who are you and what have you done with my fox of a boyfriend Jeon Jungkook?” He smiles but can’t manage a humor driven laugh. Your face turns serious. “Are you okay? You seem…different this morning.” Your hand finds his face and caresses the apple of his cheek, moving down so your thumb can brush over his bottom lip, moist with saliva.

He grins, a devilish werewolf inherited grin that only means one thing. 

Trouble.

“Is wanting to fuck my girlfriend against the law now?” Its then that his erection becomes prominently known against your hip, something so regular to you that noticing its cameo had slipped your mind. “Because you are what I want right now.” 

“I never said you couldn’t, and no it’s not against the law Kookie.” You press your nails into the countertop, biting your lip and closing your eyes in a slow blink as you relish in the tease he’s feeding you. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I—” He affirms his grip on your hips and scoops you upwards, pushing you back and onto the cool countertop. You squeak out a giggle; the butterflies he still makes you feel coming up to tickle at your throat. “—Prop you up here?”; He finishes, a devilish grin on his face as his hands trace over the skin of your thighs. Your lip lingers between your teeth before he pulls it out with his own soft pair in a kiss thats equally as soft. You smile through the brush of his lips, enjoying the intimate kisses he’s giving you. It’s not until you run your fingers up from between your legs to his chest that you notice something besides his dick thats up. 

“Kookie?” You mumble, trying your damndest to peel your lips from his, but—as always if not more so than usual—he’s persistent. His tongue glides over your bottom lip, and he bites it before finally letting your mouth go. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, caressing his nose against yours in a sweet little werewolf nuzzle. 

“Are you feeling alright? You’re burning up, and the thermostat was turned down this morning.” You run your hands along the curves of his abs, trying to test his boiling temperature against your own. Jungkook hums an affirmation, nodding solemnly before he cracks his serious facade to laugh out loud. He wraps his fingers around both of your wrists, leaning in towards your ear. 

His breath tingles against your skin when his words absorb themselves into your complexion. “Its because you still reek of my cum from last night.” His words make you flush, all the blood rushing from your face to your toes and back to your cheeks. You suddenly worry that you’re the one feeling feverish. “I could smell it from the bedroom.” He pulls your hands down, the palms meeting his hard member. You don’t even protest, palming him through the fabric of his sweatpants. Your touch immediately causes a reaction to sift it’s way to Jungkooks face. He winces in pleasure and then smirks, opening his eyes to meet your lust filled gaze. 

Upon analyzation, you notice that his eyes have grown dark. However, this is the first time you’ve seen Jungkook like this. He’s so hard for you from the second he wakes up to the second he goes to bed. Its something you could see yourself getting used to. 

“I bet it’s not as strong.” You tease, rocking your hips slightly forward to grab his attention.

“I can fix that.” He growls, the tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling your legs up to rest on either side of his waist. He squeezes both cheeks, kneading the pain away from his strong grip slowly afterward. He carries you away from the kitchen; kissing you the entire way to the dining room table. His canines brush against your displayed neck as he goes in to kiss the soft muscle. The contact makes you shiver, sending chills coursing down to your core. 

It surprises you when he nips the sweaty skin he’d just been kissing. But your gasp and your open mouth relaxes when his tongue caresses the assaulted skin as an apology. You whine out an urge when his pining fingers brush over your clit through the material of your panties. Without speaking, you manage to beg for more, grinding into his touch like the very feeling is a drug you cannot get enough of. 

The whimper that escapes you earns a reaction immediately. Jungkook smirks and glides his fingers downward to tease at you sopping opening. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He blatantly shouts, feeling overly proud of himself for putting you into such a state. You bite your lip as you attempt to force a moan back down and into your lungs; you fail and the sound escapes. It echos off the walls and Jungkook’s patience starts to wear thin. 

With two hands, Jungkook finds your hips. He discovers the waistband to your panties and is pleased to find you lifting your rear-end off the table to let him slip them off with undeniable ease. Upon relaxing back into the surface, you inhale sharply at the cool temperature against your bare skin. 

Seizing the opportunity, you start to palm him again, noticing the burning fire in his eyes. Veins protrude from both his neck and arms. Jungkook growls out an affirmation, beyond ecstatic to be touched. He moans and groans deeply, the sound thrumming from his lungs like they’ve never sounded before. With a vicious amount of vigor, Jungkook grabs your hips and pulls you towards him. He rips your hand away from his throbbing member, throwing them up to his shoulders as he attempts to trudge forward and enter you without so much as a lick of your lips. “Kookie wait!” You half yell, dropping your volume when you find it to be climbing a little too high to sound without nerves. He looks up at you with a need so ferocious that you gasp. “Protection.” You remind him. Jungkook blinks with realization, a small apologetic smile barely whispering over his pink lips. 

After a moment of consideration Jungkook leans down, kisses you deeply, and releases your hips. “Don’t go anywhere.” He bellows, his low tone reverberating off the walls and fishing a gush of arousal from your pussy.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You wink, watching as he leaves the room in a hurry. You chuckle at his speed but quickly return to gulping down the incessant burn in your core that travels up into your throat. Jungkook takes longer than you have the patience for, so, you start to play with yourself. It’s not your fault he left you frustrated and desperate for touch. So, needing some relief from the tickling set of butterflies that have yet to be relinquished; you start to trace small circles over the flesh of your clit. 

The sound of your juices fill the room as you can’t hold back anymore. You slide a single finger inside, moaning when you push it deeper and begin to curl it back towards you. It’s not enough though, that burning sensation of fluttering butterflies still lingers even after caressing your walls. Pushing a second digit of your hand inside helps in prepping you further, but even that is a stretch. You soon forget all about Jungkook—who still has yet to return. 

Meanwhile, your lover rummages through his bedside table in the search of a condom only to find a barren box in lieu of it. “Fuck me.” He grumbles, his throat vibrating out a rather violent growl. He rolls over the bed and pulls open the drawer of your mismatched end table. Inside he finds far too many bobby pins, a few scrunchies, an old CD—who the hell listens to CD’s anymore?—, and a DS charger. “For fucks sake!” With vigor, he moves down to the next drawer praying with all his might that god has decided to grant him one last fuck before taking his life. The drawer is filled to the brim with crap. “Junk drawer.” Jungkook sighs, sitting up and taking one large step towards the dresser. He rummages and rummages with no luck. His hands clap themselves against the handle to the final drawer that sits closed, unlike its counterparts which have been turned out. 

Jungkook’s chest heaves as beads of sweat cling to his forehead for dear life as he hangs his head down low towards the carpeted floor. He closes his eyes, attempting to gain control. “Don’t lose yourself Kook. Tight leash.” He whispers, reminding himself. He then opens the drawer, finding pairs of your underwear atop one of your vibrators. However, thats all. Jungkook’s throat burns with bile before he opens his eyes and stands up straight. Atop the dresser sits a square package with that familiar halo lying within. It shimmers and gleams—at least, in Jungkook’s head it does. Rapidly, he grabs it and searches for an expiration date. 

Ya know, just in case.

With the go ahead from the numbers, Jungkook rushes out of the room and down the short hallway that leads to the rest of the house. “Babe I-”

“F-fuck Jungkook!” You purr out loud, not being able to hear the reentrance of your lover who’s jaw has dropped. You’re two fingers deep, your head bowed back with pleasure as your mouth falls slack and your tongue nudges at the opening. 

“Oh fuck baby…” He trips his way over to you, your eyes peeling themselves open when you hear his heavy footsteps make their way closer to you. “Couldn’t manage to wait?” 

You can’t manage an answer, the pleasure your fingers provide being just enough to silence you into cumming. However, Jungkook grabs your wrist and stops you in your tracks. “Jungkook but—.”

“Shhh.” He shushes, coaxing you into silence. “My turn.” You spy the familiar glimmer of a condom package between his fingers as he pushes the waistband of his joggers down and away from what lies bare and erect beneath.  

You whimper at the sight of Jungkook starting to touch himself ahead of you, giving you a once over and gulping. “Jeon…” You whisper, feeling the breath that follows the word caress your lips as it cliff-dives from them. He smiles and caves, your begging expression and his own hormones proving to be the perfect bowling ball for knocking over his restraint. 

Once the condom is applied, Jungkook runs a hand over his cock and kisses you intimately. His fingers graze yours in an eventual hand hold that keeps you steady. The tip of his cock slides between your folds with ease, gliding over your sensitive clit and back in the worst kind of slow burn known to man.

“Oh Jeon.” You moan, your tone begging for you to be fucked.

“You smell so damn good.” He breathes into your neck. The air earning a breathy moan and gasp from you in return. “I just can’t get enough of you.” He starts to suck just behind your ear, giving you chills across your body. It’s not odd for Jungkook to mention little things about you that only he can pick up on. Such as: the beating of your heart, or the way you smell. Still, it is unlike him to mention is repeatedly. 

“I can tell.” You giggle, letting him grab and pull at the fabric of his hoodie that you threw on in your chill induced scurry from your shared bedroom. You stifle a moan as Jungkooks fingers brush underneath the cushy material of your bralette and begin to fiddle with your nipple. Swiftly, Jungkook dips down and then takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling around it with his tongue. 

“You really will be my bitch by the time I’m done with you.” He mumbles, releasing your nipple with a pop as his words begin to escape. You allow him more freedom—and skin contact—by removing both his sweatshirt and your bralette from your body. You clavicle falls victim to Jungkook’s merciless lips when he claims it as his own and leaves a little reminder of todays encounter among fading hickies from the night prior. Your hips grind into the scant space between your bodies, trying with all your might to earn the smallest amount of friction to hopefully get off. 

“More Jungkook. Don’t leave me pining for air.” You mumble, the words coalesced around your tongue like desperate insects to a lamp. The man subjected to your begs moves swiftly down your body as a result of your whines. He kisses down your abdomen, switching to use just his tongue and dragging the tip of the muscle past your belly button. The chill inducing movement forces a wave through you that feels like a hearty breeze. 

“I would never.” His breath fans over you and your skin angelically. Falling past your curves in the way fog caresses the curves of a mountain. His fingers find your sopping panties, soaked through with arousal from him. Jungkook could smell just how ready for him you were without touching you. This being the reason why his fingers plunge into you with ease once your panties are stretched aside. 

You groan, your mouth falling open in a silent moan of pleasure that has Jungkooks fingers curling harder within you. “F-fuck!” You whisper, the word strangled by your closed eyes. Your words make Jungkook pause, his fingers slowing to drive you mad despite how desperate he wants you to pull his throbbing cock into you. You try to move your hips up towards him but all that comes from it is the withdrawal of Jungkooks fingers and a forceful push of his hands against your hips. One palm snakes its way between your hip bones, above your uterus and pressing down lightly. The feeling of his fingers inside you was already enough pressure, now he’s pressing down onto your bladder and forcing you to succumb to his rule. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He coos, nipping the sensitive skin around your nipple.

You struggle to form any syllables, sharp breaths interrupting them. 

“You’re the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever seen.” He growls, pulling your nipple between his teeth. You bite your bottom lip through a smile. Jungkook suddenly and abruptly stops, gaining your attention. “Say it back. Tell me what you are.” He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking it so your forced to look upward; exposing your neck to him. 

You inhale sharply, desperate to feel him move inside you. You can tell he’s suffering too, the look on his face depicting desperation and lust. “I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.” You repeat after him. Before you have a chance to brace yourself Jungkook releases your hair and yanks you from the tables cool surface. 

“And what are you?” He bends you over the long glass, allowing you to see your reflection when he bends to kiss the small of your back. Jungkook’s always been a messy lover so it doesn't phase you when he rips off the remaining material of your panties, leaving you fully exposed and at his mercy. 

“I’m your bitch.” 

“Bet your pretty ass you are.” Jungkook gives you ass a light slap, one delivered with complete and utter love.

His cock, softened to a state of slight arousal now finds itself between Jungkooks fingers, the head of his kisses at your entrance before gliding up and down. Your clit, sensitive to the touch, falls victim to the throbbing head of Jungkooks cock. With each desperate movement, you whine.

“Don’t tease me Kookie. Not now.” You complain, needing to be sated before you burn up from the inside out. Jungkook smirks, pushing your hand up and towards the back of his neck. 

“You asked.” He grumbles a low seductive whisper, pushing into you without so much as a breath of hesitation. You tense and squeeze around him, still not used to Jungkooks sheer size, even after all this time. However, its become apparent that your lovers size has predominantly grown since last week; and unless you missed that lesson in health class…that wasn’t normal. 

You look towards his face, noticing a struggled look that lies upon his soft features. “Hey.” You say softly, grabbing his jaw gingerly so he turns towards you. “No need to treat me like i'm porcelain.” You tease, running your nails down the back of his neck. You can still see the lingering sense of worry in his eyes as he starts to thrust again, deeper and harder this time. However, the more he does so the more and more his body relaxes, slipping into a full state of ecstasy as he watches you fall apart in time. Jungkook’s arms whisper at your waist, clinging lightly and then squeezing sharply. 

“I bet you’d look so pretty all round and swollen.” He hints. You’re completely caught off guard by his words, the only thing snapping you back to reality being the rubbing of the condom against your walls as Jungkook proceeds to slam into you with a winning thrust. “What do you say baby? Say yes and I’ll make sure you carry a whole litter of my pups.” His thrusts are strong and full of purpose.

Your eyes widen. Pups? Does he mean…kids? Being a mom has been a lifelong dream. Most everyone has wanted to be a parent from the age of five. But now, as you sit in the midst of your lackluster career and barely there bank account, bringing life into the world just doesn’t sound smart. At least, not now. “I don’t know baby. I like having you all to myself, besides, kids mean less sex.” You look him in the eye, pausing for effect. “And we both know how much we love when you fuck my tight little pussy.” Jungkook quite literally growls at your words, pulling completely out of you only to slam right back in. He roars your name as his thrusts become sporadic. 

Your orgasm hits you first, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you, your head tapping against the glass before falling slack. You open your eyes and get a long look at your reflection. You look fucked into oblivion, like your on cloud nine. Or even somewhere of a higher caliber. If thats humanly possible. 

“Ah shit.” Your lover collapses, thrusting sloppily into you again and again before sitting up forcefully, pulling out and tearing the condom from his length. With a once over of his hand he spills his seed onto the plane of your back, painting you in cloudy semen. And much of it.

He leans forward, kissing the nape of your neck once and burying his face in the confines of your hair while he attempts to control his breathing. You sigh out a laugh, not being able to stop the humor infused with mirth from leaping out of your mouth. You hand covers you lips but the sound still escapes. “What-” Jungkook gulps, still breathing sporadically. “What could possibly be so funny?” 

You wave a hand up at him while he sits up, taking your hips in his hands and spinning you around, thankful when you sit up on your own. “Nothing its just…” You swallow through a smile, the back of your hand helping you swallow by pressing to the mass of your lips. “Since last night you’ve been so horny. I’m not complaining. But, why?” You run a hand down the sharp bone of his jawline, bringing his face closer to yours. You smear the remaining cum from the tip of his softening member with your free hand, watching as he smirks. 

“I thought you would’ve put it together by now.” He whispers, chest still heaving since cumming. 

“Put what together?” 

Jungkook licks his lips, showing off his shimmering canines protruding with hormones. “Every couple of months, werewolves go into heat. Frankly, it had been awhile since my last heat spell so I figured it was because I have yet to mark you but…then it snuck up on me last night.” He gulps, solidifying his smirk before stealing a giggle filled kiss. “Everything about me becomes stronger and more driven by lust and hormones out of my control. I just can’t resist. Especially when you smell like this.” He takes a deep inhale when you press your forehead to his. 

For what seems like seconds attunes to minutes, and then Jungkook pieces his own puzzle together, one he should’ve thought of at some point last night. He stands straight, backing away from the table. “What is it?” You question him, furrowing your eyebrows. 

Your boyfriend gulps, “W-When um, when was your last period?”

You blink fastidiously, looking to the floor in thought, “Uh…” You put a finger to your chin, recounting the past days. Jungkook moves closer to grabs a fresh pair of sweatpants from the folded clothes in a laundry basket on the other end of the dining table. He puts them on and orders for you to stand, turning so that your back is facing him. He starts to wipe the cum from your back, massaging your shoulders once he’s finished. “It ended yesterday. Why?” You can hear Jungkook tut, blowing a raspberry between your shoulder blades in exasperation. 

He pulls you into him by the shoulders, whispering, “Are you sure you don’t want those pups?” You turn to face him. A confused look on your face. “I don’t think I can sit around knowing that you’re ready for my hot cum.” He bites his lip, caressing your shoulders at the thought of filling you to the brim and impregnating you. 

The thought of children worries you. Are you ready to be a parent? Do you feel this way only because of Jungkooks tone? Would he make a good father? Thats a stupid question, of course he would. You rub your thighs together, feeling a trail of arousal start to drip down the flat of your inner thigh. Your body sure doesn’t seem opposed. “Sure smells like you’re thinking about it.” Jungkook teases, reaching between your legs to play with your clit and run his fingers through your arousal. You pause for a minute, licking your lips before looking back up into Jungkooks eyes. He brings his fingers up to his lips, smirking while he licks your juices from each digit. 

You smirk. 

Carrying Jungkook’s pups doesn’t sound too bad.

[chronicowboy]

Are We the Strongest? -

To Better Circumstances

masterlist

Their first encounter was less than ideal. There were no introductions, no handshakes, no greetings. It was life or death. Hero or villain. Relief or grief. And despite Carol's decades of singlehandedly saving galaxies and entire civilisations this short rescue mission felt like her most important one to date. A pressure like no other settled on her shoulders and she would come to wonder if that was what Tony Stark felt like on a daily basis. Ignoring the sense of make or break the fate of the entire universe that she was experiencing, Carol acted without hesitation. She strutted out of the compound and shot off into the void of space with one thing on her mind: find Tony Stark. This time, however, it felt different when she broke through earth's atmosphere. It felt as unknowingly important as the man himself was. Carol couldn't decide whether it was that knowledge or the lost group of heroes below that meant she could find the ship in under an hour.

When she encountered the gently drifting leaf on the ripples of a blue supernova, Carol swore she felt the weight fall from her sore muscles for a grand total of a second. Her heart froze with terrified agony as her eyes landed on the man with closed eyes, sunken cheeks and a chest that didn't seem to move. She willed herself to glow brighter, pushed the energy to every extremity of herself until even she had to squint if she wanted to catch the billionaire open his eyes with as much effort as it took her to lift the ship and steer it towards his home planet.

As he stumbled down the ramp a suffocating joyful relief thickened the air so much so that Carol found it hard to breathe until he embraced his fiancee, Pepper he had whispered into her neck.

Tony's arrival was chaotic to say the least. He refused to rest once his friend had connected him to a drip and pushed him into a wheelchair. Everybody fussed over him until he snapped at them and directed their attention to the other being that was starving and dying on that ship with him. He caught everyone up, they caught him up. And, although he refused to break, Carol saw the toll the battle had taken on him. Even when no one else did. It was insane, she thought, how everyone but his real friends could see his struggle. It was only when the man did a 360 on the captain who was anything but a captain that his broken insides were painfully visible for all to see. And, even though Carol had no idea what happened between them, she found herself smirking as the mortal man confronted the super soldier with no weaponry whatsoever but his words and cracks as if they were the deadliest bombs the man had encountered. The corner of her mouth sunk when he collapsed. She barely knew him and yet she reacted immediately, going to catch him before she realised it probably wasn't her place. Even so, Carol got the feeling that Steve would have done nothing if hed hadn't have been so close and it was tragic.

She didn't want to intrude. This wasn't her place to be. Her place was a comfortable bungalow in Louisiana, but it didn't feel like home anymore. However, there was a tug that told her she had to see Tony. Like it was calling her home. And it was strange. Incredibly strange. But real. So real. After he had woken up, he tired his soon-to-be wife and best friend out whilst proving to them that he was still him old self. Thinner and older and impossibly more traumatised. But still him. The pair had fallen asleep in their bedside seats, leaving Tony alone. But there was some nagging feeling that he didn't want to be, so Carol decided to go and check on him. One simple choice that would change a life or two.

She peeked around the door, waving a hand that no longer glowed.

"Hey, Carol, is it?" He tilted his head, fighting the smile that tried to make an appearance at the new captain. She nodded, closing the door softly behind her. "Thanks for saving me and all. Big fan of that whole photon glow thing you have going on-"

"You don't have to do that." Her tone was firm yet sincere at his obvious deflection. Sympathy washed over her as she wondered how many of his so-called friends overlooked it as plain and simple apathy. Even if he didn't want her, she'd make him feel understood. "Look, I'm not gonna ask how you are because I know you'll just say you're fine in the form of some snarky comment-"

"So you're me, if I was blonde, female and an alien?" Her voice was far too genuine for the fragile billionaire.

"I'm of the human disposition, unfortunately. Survived a blast from the tesseract, absorbed its energy and here we are." The corner of his mouth ticked up and Carol fought off her own smile. "I don't know what went on with you guys," she gestured to Steve who was examining a hologram outside with Natasha, "but I want you to know that I don't give a shit. That rant was the most satisfying and entertaining thing I've seen since 90's tv. And I know he deserved it." She dropped into the chair next to Rhodey as he chuckled. "I've seen the tapes. Of you fighting," and Tony was struck with the horrifying sense of deja vu. He wasn't ready for a new prospect in the friendship area to drag up his deepest insecurity and lay it all on the line. The line that he wouldn't lay down on and let someone else crawl over him, according to Rogers. "You're a good man. You fight for what's right, anyway you can, but you still take more precautions than the rest of them to preserve civilian lives." There was a beat of awkward silence as Tony mulled over her words and Carol let him before she clapped her hands. She winced, checking to see if Pepper or Rhodey had woken up. "Okay, well, that's the most emotion I've done for years." Tony laughed, it was loud — as loud as could be so his family wouldn't wake up — and glorious and it made Carol feel inexplicably proud.

"So besides turning into a glow worm because of the tesseract, what's your story?" He asked, shifting to get comfortable. She jumped up and held his arm as she rearranged his pillows. His gaze was intense as he examined her and she felt it burning through her so she cleared her throat.

"You know, not many people get to see that side of me." She admitted, running a hand over the back of her neck.

"I'm honoured?" He smirked.

"I was a pilot in the 90's. Couldn't fly for the army because I was a woman, so I tested planes. One day, I crash. Straight into some kind of alien mission. The Krees wanted the tesseract so I blew it up. Woke up and they turned me into their pawn. I didn't know what I was." Carol shifted, kicking her feet up onto the end of his bed. "My first proper mission goes wrong and I crash on earth. Fury meets me, you know Fury?"

"We've met." Tony cocked his head to the side. Did Fury really get himself everywhere?

"He told me a lot about you. Bitched about everyone in his confidential boy band." So she is a blonde, female version of him. "Anyway, he gives me a nice, warm greeting before I convince him of the Skrulls' existence. A shapeshifting alien race. Then, I find out I had a family. A best friend and her little girl. Maria and Monica." She looked at him and saw the realisation dawn on him. But it wasn't pity, it was understanding. She nodded and he interrupted for the first time.

"The kid," and Carol remembered his first words, "Spiderman. Queens' local vigilante. Teenager. Batshit crazy teenager, Peter. I tried to keep him safe. I did. I did everything, but it didn't work. I was ready to die for him, but that choice was taken from me by that stupid wizard." He stopped himself and looked to her, tears glistening. She could see the pleading in his eyes and she knew she should continue.

"They helped me find my old self. The Skrulls, they were just trying to find a home. So I knew I had to help them. I got to break free from the Krees' control. And I did. Destroyed some missiles from a dick called Ronan. Then, just helped the universe. And listened to Fury complain about his superhero children." Tony laughed, wiping his tears away. "You know, the Avengers are named after me." She bragged.

"Is that right?" He removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside table.

"Captain Carol 'Avenger' Danvers." She clarified. "Except, I'm a real captain. Unlike America over there." She jabbed a thumb at the stern-looking man. "Before I got promoted to colonel." Tony chuckled again.

"Oh my god. Please pull rank. Please. I beg you." Carol joined in, shaking her head.

"Couldn't do that to his ego. Its bigger than your's." She joked, rolling her eyes. "I'll do it if he pulls any shit with you."

"Carol Danvers, are you my guardian angel?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. "But if I was, I would have protected you from them."

"So Maria," he began, "just your best friend, right?" Tony swore looks could kill as his breathing slowed down and his heart sped up. It couldn't be a good combination.

"You're a bit like me, right? Kidnapped, turned into something bigger than you should be. Lied to. Betrayed. All of the hero origins combined into one very fragile human. Apart from, your brain gave birth to Ironman and my stupid nobility gave birth to Captain Marvel." If an AI had eyes, Tony was sure that it would roll its eyes at the amount of eye rolling that had taken place in the small hospital room.

"Yeah, I'm a genius."

"Hey, me too." She cheered, hushing her voice as James' head lolled to his shoulder.

"Well, maybe, but-"

"You're smarter, I'm stronger." Her voice dripped with humour, but Tony thought it was a good compromise.

"I'm not gonna argue with you there, firefly." He held his hands up in defeat. "You're the strongest of us all." Carol didn't normally like compliments, but it felt special from him. "Because you're me if I had the physical strength."

The rest of the night was filled with laughter until Carol's wrist lit up with a red alert.

"Duty calls, but it was nice meeting ya, Tony." She announced, standing. "Tell me if the big boy gives you any trouble." Her childish voice and condescending tone made the man smile. She was one foot out of the door when,

"Hey, Carol? If you ever need a place to crash, I'll send you the coordinates of the place I wanna build my house." He winked at her as she left. Perhaps he'd just made a new friend.

@marvelficwriter @galaxy-parker @bi-marvel @theamazingschneiderman @underoosstark @delmars @confettidogs @dixiehellcat @lucious-has-heard @phoenixinferno1023 @grilledkatniss @marvelrose

[unpack-my-heart]

Midsommar spoilers ahead – read at yer own risk.

This post contains discussions of suicide, murder-suicide, graphic ritualistic violence, dissociation and mental illness. These are triggers that also apply to the film, so please be careful if you decide to go and see this film.

I went to see Midsommar last night. I thought it was a fantastic film, that raised a lot of interesting themes about gaslighting, dissociation, belonging, fascism and free will.

I’ll start with the cinematography. This film is gorgeous. The scenery is so beautiful it’s almost unbelievable – rolling greens and constant blue skies. Probably not the normal setting for a horror film, right? Compare this to the cinematography of Aster’s other film, Hereditary, with its bleak, oppressive constant grey-tone, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that Midsommar was a departure from the horror genre all together. This works in Midsommar’s favour, though. It’s horror in broad daylight, constant daylight. I think it’s important to remember that the horror genre is not, and should not, be limited to just gruesome torture porn, or an endless assault of blood, gore and guts. I mean, I like bloody horror as much as the next person, but that is not where the genre should begin and end. Of course, Midsommar has some incredibly gruesome aspects (meaning that in Britain, the film has received a rating of ‘18’). The suicide of the two elderly members of the Hårga is played on screen with an unflinching gaze, and it is about as shocking as shocking gets. Especially when the elderly man jumps in such a way that he doesn’t immediately die, and instead shatters his legs. The other Hårga members caving in his skull with a large wooden mallet elicited pained gasps from many of the people sat in the cinema with me. It was brutal. But the main thing I took away from the film was an unrelenting reminder that grief is a transformative experience – not always for the better – and that vulnerable people can be drawn to bad people, bad organizations, or to make bad decisions, and we must question whether this means they are irredeemable.  

This is actually where I started thinking about free will. The Hårga are a community bound by tradition. Their lives are to be a predetermined length, and within this, their lives are divided up into four ‘seasons’ of equal length. At the end of the winter of their lives, the period spanning 54 years old to 72 years old, you are expected to walk (literally) willingly, and freely, to your death. This is exactly what the two elderly members I just mentioned do. They are carried on sedan chairs to the top of a cliff, and then throw themselves to their deaths. Whilst I must be careful of cultural imperialism, I couldn’t help but wonder how much agency the Hårga have. Is this suicide an expression of free-will or an example of coercion driven by traditional practice? We can only speculate, but I wonder what would happen if someone refused to die at the predetermined age. This really cemented to me that the Hårga are not a peaceful community living in a psychedelic Swedish plane, but are in actuality, uncomfortably close to eco-fascism.

According to eco-fascist ideology, you’re expected to sacrifice your life in order that the group more generally can protect the interests of nature more broadly. This goes some way as to explain why the elderly members of the community, who are statistically more likely to be suffering from disease, ill-health or infirmity, are coerced to take their own lives. They have fulfilled their purpose, and they are invited? forced? to remove themselves from society. This is, of course, a society that is absolutely, entirely white. The only non-white bodies in the community are those of Josh, Simon and Connie – and these people end up dead, murdered in increasingly disturbing ways. Josh is killed whilst trying to take pictures of the Rubi Radr (the sacred text of the Hårga) – something he was explicitly forbidden to do – and his body is dragged away by a member of the Hårga who is wearing Mark’s skinned face as a mask. Connie and Simon both disappear at different points in the story, and both turn up dead. Simon is executed in a particularly graphic way – he is suspended in the chicken coop, as a blood eagle. The blood eagle is a form of ritualistic murder detailed in the Germanic and Nordic sagas, wherein the ribs are broken and the lungs are pulled out of the body, in such a way so that they look like ‘wings’. Simon’s lungs seem to inflate and deflate, as if they were breathing, but we cannot be sure whether he is still alive, or whether this is caused by Christian’s drug-addled brain.

This is where the film becomes uncomfortable for me. Connie and Simon are … very minor characters in this film. They don’t really serve any purpose other than to be tormented, murdered, sacrificed. They do not really interact with the main protagonists (Christian, Dani, Josh, Mark), other than a few pleasantries at the beginning, a shared horror at the suicide of the elders, and a very brief interaction between Connie and Dani when Connie discovers that Simon has ‘left the commune without her’. I am uncomfortable with calling Midsommar an explicitly feminist film as I believe the treatment of Connie, a sidelined, innocent, brown woman, who is brutally killed for no apparent reason other than her status as Other violates any claim the film might otherwise have as being explicitly feminist. But maybe this isn’t the point. I don’t think Midsommar has to be ‘explicitly feminist’ in order to make very valid points about how a very specific kind of female pain, grief and trauma is often ignored and overlooked. Connie’s body violates the very specific white ableness championed by the Hårga, and her experience as Other legitimizes her death. Dani’s body, a white body that does not violate any of their traditions, is permitted to live. She is permitted to access the underbelly of the commune, but this comes at a price, and I believe that price is a combination of her sanity, her sense of self, and any remaining link she had to her past.

That’s what I think Florence Pugh was so unbelievably good at depicting. I was absolutely blown away by her ability to howl like that. That sort of primal, unabashed screaming. I think the two times she -really- cries set up a really interesting dichotomy between female pain and male reactions to female pain. The first time that Dani really howls is when her parents and sister have died. It is dark, she starts this sort of crying whilst alone over the phone, and then Christian is with her but he feels entirely distant from her. The room is dark, he is rubbing her back and she is draped over him, but he feels entirely emotionally removed from the situation - he is not participating in her grief, he doesn’t look that affected by it. His presence makes the scene feel just that little bit more jarring. Actually, does he even say anything to her? As far as I remember, no he does not. She tells him they’ve died, we see a shot of him walking through the snow to her apartment, and then they’re in the apartment. He says nothing. The only noise is Dani’s screams. He is entirely silent. Compare this to the second time she howls, when she’s surrounded by the female members of the Hårga. This scene is entirely different. It’s light, and she’s surrounded by women who are touching her, caressing her, but most importantly, screaming with her. They howl and cry and scream with her. They are her perfect mirrors. They are ACTIVELY PARTICIPATING in her grief, they share in her trauma. This was probably the most harrowing shot of the entire film for me. Not the gore, not the mutilated bodies – but a woman, screaming and howling like a wounded animal, and having a horde of sympathetic women scream back at her. It’s hard to not feel drawn into this community. It’s hard to not forget the evil things they have done, or are willing to do. That is precisely what is so dangerous about the Hårga, or more generally, this very specific brand of eco-fascism.  

Some quick fire symbolism stuff that I picked up on:

the symbolism of Christian wearing dark clothing and standing away from the rest of the group when they were celebrating Dani becoming the May Queen. The way he lurches around, looking entirely out of place - she is sat at the head of the table - dressed as they are, crowned with flowers, nature moves with her - she has basically entirely assimilated - he is still outcast.

I thought it was really interesting that the group of women during the dub-con Christian/Maya sex scene mirrored how Maya was feeling. I think the focus on women mirroring each other, appropriating and absorbing how each other is feeling is a fascinating detail.  Christian, on the other hand, looks out of place in that room, a male body who only has one purpose and then is entirely redundant. This is reinforced by the bit where the girl he is sleeping with holds her hand out and he tries to grab it but instead one of the women grabs it. He basically serves no purpose beyond impregnating her - and even then he isn’t even that good at it, because one of the other women has to push on his butt to push him along in the process. Women as being the most active and present in sex, men just … seed? Is this a subversion of how sex is usually seen?

The disabled boy seems to serve no purpose in society other than being the oracle - he does not participate in the banquet or any of the celebrations. He is almost never on screen, apart from a few very close up shots of his face, and one occasion where the camera shifts to him from the sex scene  -  a very jarring decision, in my opinion. Panning to him during the sex scene was super interesting and really not expected. It was an interesting visual choice, and it made me think about whether the point was to emphasise how he will presumably never participate in sexual acts etc. because of the eugenics practiced by the Hårga. This was a pretty damning condemnation of the Hårga as an eco-fascist group who actively engages in eugenics/”selective breeding”. You can definitely see links here between the growth of fascism and eugenics in the early 20th century and the practices of the Hårga.

I really liked how the entire time they were at the commune almost felt like … a fever dream in a distant fairytale land. Walking through the large sun at the beginning, having to trek through the fields to get there, everything looking very idyllic and exactly how a young child would imagine a Swedish landscape to look. The perfect environment to discuss dissociation, in my opinion.

These are some scattered thoughts I had after viewing the film!!

Overall, I really enjoyed it, despite some of the troubling social themes, and it’s another absolute win for Aster in my book.

[fizzingwizard]

I reread the Sherlock Holmes stories at least once a year. Every time, I’m impressed with something new. I’ve really got to start a Holmesian side blog.

For now, enjoy what is basically me live-tweeting “The Problem of Thor Bridge,” although I actually read it a few days ago. Holmes is in his late 40s.

The story in short: A woman has been killed, and the family’s governess is accused, because the woman’s jackass husband is totally into her.

It was a wild morning in October, and I observed as I was dressing how the last remaining leaves were being whirled from the solitary plane tree which graces the yard behind our house. I descended to breakfast prepared to find my companion in depressed spirits, for, like all great artists, he was easily impressed by his surroundings.

We start off with an image of the moody, artistic, disconsolate Holmes, and a depiction of Watson, the guy who knows everything about him.

On the contrary, I found that... his mood was particularly bright and joyous, with that somewhat sinister cheerfulness which was characteristic of his lighter moments.

"You have a case, Holmes?" I remarked.

"The faculty of deduction is certainly contagious, Watson," he answered.

Every. Little. Thing.

Also, please note, sinister cheerfulness.

Watson: Holmes, you’re... happy. Good Lord, who’s been murdered!?

"... We may discuss it when you have consumed the two hard-boiled eggs with which our new cook has favoured us. Their condition may not be unconnected with the copy of the Family Herald which I observed yesterday upon the hall-table. Even so trivial a matter as cooking an egg demands an attention which is conscious of the passage of time and incompatible with the love romance in that excellent periodical."

Ooh. Victorian burn!

"I am getting into your involved habit, Watson, of telling a story backward."

Holmes’s pastime - casually insulting Watson.

Watson’s probable reaction:

By the way, let’s keep track of Holmes burns, shall we? So far he’s roasted both Watson and the poor cook at Baker Street.

"... A revolver with one discharged chamber and a calibre which corresponded with the bullet was found on the floor of her wardrobe." His eyes fixed and he repeated in broken words, "On—the—floor—of—her—wardrobe." Then he sank into silence.

Sherlock Holmes abruptly cutting off, repeating himself in staccato, then getting lost in thought and forgetting he was talking to someone. Just a day in the life of Dr. Watson.

When this sort of thing happens for a prolonged time, Watson has a habit of... falling asleep. Lol. Not that I blame him

Enter Bates, who is a manager for today’s client, Gibson, a gold mining magnate. Bates does not like Gibson.

"Those public charities are a screen to cover his private iniquities."

A breakdown of big business if I ever saw one.

Holmes doesn’t like Gibson either.

"What the devil do you mean by this, Mr. Holmes? Do you dismiss my case?"

"Well, Mr. Gibson, at least I dismiss you."

Holmes Burn Count: 3.

I sprang to my feet, for the expression upon the millionaire's face was fiendish in its intensity, and he had raised his great knotted fist. 

Gasp! Someone makes a threatening gesture at Sherlock Holmes, something that surely happens with regularity!

Watson:

We learn Gibson has a crush on his governess, who is accused of killing his wife.

"I could not live under the same roof with such a woman and in daily contact with her without feeling a passionate regard for her. Do you blame me, Mr. Holmes?"

"I do not blame you for feeling it. I should blame you if you expressed it, since this young lady was in a sense under your protection."

Holy cheese whiz, Batman! Don’t hit on your employees! See! Even in a world without bills against sexual harassment in the workplace, this was understood!

"I've been a man that reached out his hand for what he wanted, and I never wanted anything more than the love and possession of that woman. I told her so."

"Oh, you did, did you?"

Holmes could look very formidable when he was moved.

Sherlock Holmes:

"I said that money was no object and that all I could do to make her happy and comfortable would be done."

"Very generous, I am sure," said Holmes with a sneer.

Holmes Burn Count: 4

On a side note, more Holmes actors should sneer.

"Some of you rich men have to be taught that all the world cannot be bribed into condoning your offences."

PREACH IT BROTHER.

"And women lead an inward life and may do things beyond the judgement of a man."

I love how this is just accepted in this time period. Gibson is speaking, and Holmes and Watson are gentlemen, but no one’s going to contradict this statement.

Man: does something completely against his character. Everyone else: How strange! There must be some reason. Meanwhile, Woman: does something completely against her character. Everyone: Well, she’s an illogical woman, what do you expect?

I mean dude. They talk this way in the original Star Trek, which had female character working in high-level positions (albeit not starship captain). And the “illogical woman” line appeared pretty much every time a plot involved a woman. It’s crazy how persistent a stereotype this was. At least “female hysteria” was still considered a Thing in Holmes’s time - by Star Trek’s time it had been dropped since the 1950s.

Anyway, I can’t understand a thing men do.

"[My wife] was crazy with hatred and the heat of the Amazon was always in her blood."

Whenever a character isn’t English, they are assigned some ethnic trait that usually makes them more passionate and unreasonable than English people. The English don’t escape critique, but foreigners definitely feel the burn the greatest. If an excuse can be found to blame something on a character being “tropical” or “fiery” because they’re from the Mediterranean or overseas, it will be used. And it’s usually a female character. (Though probably the one who gets it the worst is the poor Andaman Islander in The Sign of Four, who is a man, but barely even afforded humanity by the text.)

Holmes and Watson travel out to investigate. They meet the local police, who’s grateful to work with Holmes.

"And your friend, Dr. Watson, can be trusted, I know."

This is just how you react when Holmes shows up with Watson, since Holmes’s modus operandi is “Anything you say to me will eventually get back to Watson anyway.”

"Well now, Watson, suppose for a moment that we visualise you in the character of a woman who, in a cold, premeditated fashion, is about to get rid of a rival..."

So there’s an episode of House MD where House asks Wilson to envision himself as his patient, who is a middle-aged Chinese woman. Wilson is like “ok” and House says “Say it.” So Wilson says “I’m a middle-aged Chinese woman.” And House is like, “good.” And clearly it’s from “Thor Bridge” bwahahahaha.

"Your best friends would hardly call you a schemer, Watson, and yet I could not picture you doing anything so crude as that."

Watson Cannot Lie. It Is Known. At least, he cannot lie convincingly for more than a few minutes. Also, he is a Good Guy, Whom Holmes Trusts Implicitly.

(The Casebook has quite a few Watson-validating moments.)

"I can see now that I was wrong. Nothing could justify me in remaining where I was a cause of unhappiness, and yet it is certain that the unhappiness would have remained even if I had left the house."

^This is the governess, Ms Dunbar, teaching us all that a good deed never goes unpunished. I disagree with calling Ms Dunbar the “cause” of unhappiness, as the cause is clearly the husband. Ms Dunbar’s one bad decision was in not putting some form of distance between herself and Gibson. She seems to have thought they were safe as long as they were not being physically intimate, but other forms of intimacy were okay. And, to be frank, it seems not unlikely by the end that for all Gibson’s lack of morals, and in spite of her own, Ms Dunbar loves him back.

At the same time, she’s also right that no matter what choice she made, Gibson and his wife were not going to be happy together. It’s completely Gibson’s fault though. And the fault of a society where leaving a marriage left a black mark.

"How do you know [the murder weapon wasn’t already planted in your room]?"

"Because I tidied out the wardrobe."

"That is final."

Who is she, Marie Kondo?

Holmes did not answer. His pale, eager face had suddenly assumed that tense, far-away expression which I had learned to associate with the supreme manifestations of his genius. So evident was the crisis in his mind that none of us dared to speak, and we sat, barrister, prisoner, and myself, watching him in a concentrated and absorbed silence.

More of Silent, Pensive Holmes and his Rapt Audience. Watson won’t fall asleep when others are around, so instead they all stare at Holmes. Literally. That’s what it says. No one dares speak and they all just stare at him.

Suddenly, as we neared our destination he seated himself opposite to me—we had a first-class carriage to ourselves—

I like that Watson feels compelled to explain this to us this.

and laying a hand upon each of my knees he looked into my eyes with the peculiarly mischievous gaze which was characteristic of his more imp-like moods.

The body language in this passage. Holmes getting all silly and excited. Watson still just staring. This scene is probably the most Guy Ritchie-like it gets.

Also, please note imp-like.

Watson: Get your hands off my knees Sherlock Holmes you adorable fucker.

"Watson," said he, "I have some recollection that you go armed upon these excursions of ours."

It was as well for him that I did so, for he took little care for his own safety when his mind was once absorbed by a problem so that more than once my revolver had been a good friend in need. I reminded him of the fact.

"Yes, yes, I am a little absent-minded in such matters."

Holmes: Hey Watson, are you packing heat?

Watson: Well YEAH, you careless bastard. Someone’s got to prevent your death, since you won’t.

Holmes: YOLO

(Although, it’s more like YOLT, in this specific case.)

"See, Watson, your revolver has solved the problem!"

^After using Watson’s revolver in an experiment which results in the gun falling off the bridge into the depths of the river.

Watson: Thank you, Holmes. I liked that revolver.

Holmes: Psh, quit your bitching, we’ll drag the river for it.

In the end, it turns out the wife concocted a plan for her own suicide that would make it look like the governess murdered her. Although this story would definitely have been better without the racism and sexism, one thing that I can’t help but appreciate is that Gibson, a Generally Bad Guy, is not The Bad Guy, and gets to continue living his rich and ruthless life. On top of that, he’s even rid of his wife who wasn’t beautiful anymore, and potentially going to marry the beautiful younger woman. So he gets no consequences for treating his wife terribly, putting the moves on his employee, or just for being a jackass. Instead, he gets even More. It’s hyper realism. ACD ain’t pulling his punches with this one. /cynicism

And that’s it for “Thor Bridge!” This was very fun for me to do though I doubt anyone will read it! But I’ll almost definitely make more so I can continue to share the running inner monologue that goes on in my head whenever I read Holmes stories. I enjoy snickering to myself with or without an audience.

Our Holmes Burn Count was only 4, though I could have included a few more barbs he threw at Gibson.

This probably doesn’t need mentioning, but all the Sherlock Holmes stories are in public domain so y’all should go read them.

[travellingwithleoandzoe-blog]

#6 Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica

Osa. For us, the word itself conjures up a sense of mysticism. Not many people call it home, making this enchanted peninsula a rare jewell for wildlife. And while stats tend to differ between various sources, all of them baffle. Take this one for example: it’s estimated that this tiny plot of land, amounting to only 0.0001% of the earth’s surface area, contains a staggering 2.5% of the planet’s bio diversity. The ratio is somewhat explainable when you consider the tropical rain forest in this part of the world embraces a mind-bending thirteen different ecosystems, from freshwater and marine systems, to dense elevated primary forests, sandy beaches, encompassing mangroves, and more. There’s all sorts of magic happening here. We’ll get back to some of the numbers in a short while.

As for the drive down to this Southwestern tip, it was unsurprisingly spectacular. Engulfed by the supercharged flora, we whizzed around the perimeter in a green blur, catching glimmers of the crystal blue Pacific from time to time. Before heading to our base for the upcoming few days, we first needed to pick up some reserves in the largest town in the region, Puerto Jimenez. With the stop off complete, and three days worth of food packed in the boot, we hurried on to a town call Dos Brazos, waving goodbye to phone connection, WiFi, and convenience stores. Dos Brazos was once a bustling gold mining village, however, it now embraces a more ecologically responsible and sustainable vision. As a gateway to Corcovado National Park, growing eco-tourism opportunities have shown this sleepy village how conservation efforts can benefit the community, providing jobs and a healthier environment. It was like stepping back in time on entry. The pace of life is slow and there’s a feeling of balance and harmony that’s clearly been orchestrated by the abundant natural beauty in the area. The rough road through the town didn’t last long, and under instructions from our host we continued off road at what appeared to be a dead end, pushing our car to its limits. 

Within five minutes we’d landed at the idyllic home and gardens of Casa Aire Libre. Perched above Rio Tigre and surrounded by breathtaking greenery, this open aired home would prove to be a once in a lifetime abode for us both. We were finishing Costa Rica in style. 

The home came equipped with an enormous kitchen suitable for any top chef, multiple hammocks and air chairs, a private garden with jungle paths, and a master bedroom up on a third floor up at tree level. We happily pottered about our new surroundings until the sunlight died on us, celebrating our first evening with a glass of vino and huge spread of various different tropical foods.

A booming chorus of bird calls coupled with a deep red backdrop from the sun rise was something to behold the next morning. Alarm clocks are now redundant to us, as we’ve become attune to nature’s cues and wake up calls. Our first full day in Osa was all about acclimatising and taking things slow. The expansive grounds and many amenities of our temporary home meant we had ample amounts of paths to explore, wildlife to admire, and foods to feast on. Maybe it was just the novelty of it, but the removal of walls in an environment like this felt like we could unconsciously absorb even more of Mother Nature while simply sat relaxing in our new home. Sometimes, however, there are more obvious physical encounters that come from having no barriers. As the power of the sun waned we went to grab a layer to put on. Lifting a t-shirt, a sizeable and startled wolf spider (we think) jumped off and perched itself on a nearby shelf. After much commotion, we let the spider be, and observed a plethora of other passers-by that evening, from tree frogs, to oversized clumsy flying beetles and the odd giant moth. We were truly in the thick of it.

Our location in the foothills of the extremely important Corcovado National, which protects over 50% of the forest in the area, meant we were walking distance to a network of incredible jungle trails. However, the park itself is only accessible with a guide, and that was a little out of our price range. Fortunately for us, the nearby Bolita Rainforest Hostel has created some its own alternative self-guided options on the fringes of the park.

Bolita has to be one of the hardest hostels in the country to get to. It required a 30 min strenuous hike from our home through dense, shady forest, and it wasn’t like we were staying in a connected place! The owner, an American naturist and nudist enthusiast, set up the hostel seventeen years ago. During this time span the hostel has forged out approximately fifteen kilometers worth of trails through sixty plus hectares of rainforest. On entry to the hostel we paid a small fee for path maintenance and examined the rough map of routes. We were told to keep our eyes peeled for snakes, of which there are many in this part of the world. The simple rule to abide by; keep your eyes fixed on the ground when moving. Be stationary when looking up.

Briefing complete, we marched on to start the first of many trails. Clothes optional was the message on the entry sign, but we kept our bits covered (mostly). We zigzagged along the various trails for hours, treading carefully along the way. The humidity was heavy, but cloud cover meant we enjoyed cooler temperatures compared to average. We encountered three fleeing snakes during the day. All our serpent friends were small and apparently non venomous. With such abundance of snake life, we also had the fortune of spotting one of their hunters, a laughing falcon. We watched from afar until the beautiful bird silently flew away.

We followed routes to two separate waterfalls, which we’ve become so accustomed to. Eventually, we worked our way upwards to a remarkable viewpoint above the canopy outlooking the national park and spanning out towards the sea. 

Within a moment of sitting down, we were greeted by two yellow throated toucans, who flew in to rest up on the tree directly opposite us. Such timely encounters couldn’t have been better created in our imaginations and the gifts kept occurring as we returned to the shade of the jungle. This time we stumbled across a gang of juvenile spider monkeys playing high up above our heads. One poor fella was missing a tail, but this didn’t seem to be holding him back. They swung between branches with such poise, until forming a small huddle where they proceeded to prune one another. We waved to the smallest in the group who sat alone still playing, and maybe it was a coincidence as it moved a nearby branch at the same time, but it felt like he or she gestured back to us. Their curious gaze in our direction filled our hearts with joy. Our tally for monkeys was now at three out of the four species in the country. Seeing this group of spider monkeys out in their natural environment was by far the most awe inspiring yet. What a day. One that left us wishing we had more time in the region.

We parted ways the next day, fitting in one final nature activity before leaving. Rising at 5 am, we met our bird guide for the morning, Rolando. After a quick cup of coffee we ventured out as light started to fill the sky. The starting point was conveniently on our doorstep. We wandered along our garden paths, the nearby banks of Rio Tigre, and outskirts of the town for three hours. In that time we spotted just short of fifty different bird species. For anyone that cares, we did our best to list those that we jotted down. You can find it at the bottom of the post. A few call outs are required. Ranking number one in our sightings was undoubtedly a pair of Spectacled Owls. Having never seen an owl of any sort in the wild, seeing these two hyper-tuned broad faced characters up close during daylight hours was rare. High fives were in order! Second on the list would have to be a fleeting sighting of the Turquoise Continga. The insane bright colours of this bird are hard to fathom. Third spot goes to go to a group of Scarlet Macaw that flew overhead while letting out their lung busting squawk. It was quite the conclusion to our stay in Osa. The energy of this living, breathing landscape left us gobsmacked. It’s home to between 4,000-5,000 species of vascular plants, more than 700 species of tree, nearly 400 species of birds, 124 different mammals, thousands of insects, and 115 species of reptiles. The list could go on. We knew we’d barely scratched the surface of the place, and departed ways knowing there were many reasons to one day return.

With only a two days left in Costa Rica, we decided to break up the drive back to San Jose with a stopover in the beach town of Uvita. That evening we strolled down Playa Uvita and entered Costa Rica’s youngest national park, Marino Ballena. The park is most coveted for its whale tail feature. This giant rock and sand formation reveals itself at low tide and from overhead looks just like the tail of a whale. It also happens to be a haven for humpbacks at specific times of the year. On the other side of the tail you find Playa Hermosa (where we’d enjoyed a siesta some days before). Sun down from the whales tail will long stick in our memory. The curtains were drawing in our Costa Rica adventure and the final scene was picture perfect. The journey, spanning over 1,800 kilometres, through four of the seven provinces, across volcanic highlands, rainforests, and sublime beaches, was everything we wanted and more.

Common Flycatcher Clay Coloured Thrush Blue Crowned Motmot Costa Rican Swift Red Crowned Woodpecker Rufous-tailed Hummingbird Buff-throated Saltator Turquoise Cotinga Green Honeycreeper (male and female) Streaked Flycatcher Southern Rough-winged Swallow Chestnut-sided Warbler Palm Tanger Slaty-tail Trogen Blue black Grosbeak Eastern Wood Peewee Spectacled Owl Scarlet Tanager Orange-chined Parakeet Scarlet Macaws Swallow-tailed Kite Scaly-breast Hummingbird Golden-hooded Tanager Burial-seed Eater Purple-crowned fairy Northern Bentbill Slate-headed Tody-flycatcher White-tipped Dove Great Currassow Black-cheeked Ant-tanager Tawny-winged Woodcreeper Black-hooded Antshrike River Siren Swansons Thrush Rose-eye Hawk Black-striped Sparrow Turkey Vultures Gartered Trogen Piratic Flycatcher Chachalaka Green Kingfisher Blue-ground Dove

[sw124]

BonelyHearts Reader Insert3

{Female!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Camping! Pt.2

[Recap: You and the entire skeleton household are camping, you an the boys have set everything up and are enjoying warm drinks by the fire. Papyrus is now asking you what you’d like to do now that everything is set up, we pick up from there]

You ponder think for a moment before recalling the pamphlet/map you picked up before you arrived at the campsite. You opened it and scrolled down the list of trails the area had, you passed the pamphlet around.

“Well, I was thinking we each take turns going hiking. I circled some trails that are both for short/long walks and some for hiking. One of them I think we can all enjoy is the ‘Paths of colors’ trail, its about a thirty minute walking path that takes you through the most scenic parts of the local forest where you can gaze at the fall foliage. Another one is the ‘Bridge’ trail where you go walking over bridges around the woods; lastly there’s the ‘Waterfall’ hiking trail where you hike to different waterfalls, creeks, rivers and ponds in the area.”

The skeletons each take turns looking at the trails you mention, each of them having their own opinion on a trail they want to take. Each of them had an opinion on what trail they wanted to go on, Nox, Boss, Blue and Papyrus all wanted to go on the ‘Waterfall’ trail, Poplar, Stretch and Ash wanted to see the ‘Path of Colors’ trail, everyone else opted for the ‘Bridge’ trail......now there was a problem, they all wanted YOU to go on the trails with them.

“Hold your horses boys, we’re staying for like three days we can all do the trails in that time. Besides I have more stuff planned other then just hiking ya know.”

“Like what?” Asked Poplar, sipping his coco.

“Well there’s a lake nearby where you can either go on a paddle boat ride down the rivier or rent canoes, there’s fishing, bird watching, an other relaxing stuff like that.”

You actually liked the idea of renting a canoe and just paddling around the lake or even down the river a little. The idea of being surrounded by the sounds of the forest coupled with the lapping of a oar through the rivers gentle current was just so tempting.

“That sounds like a lot of fun human!” Papyrus beamed, you were sure he was thinking about the canoes too.

“Hey we came to relax, ain’t paddling around just work?” Muttered Red, Rus softly agreed.

You smiled and turned to them. “Don’t worry guys, I already got this. Today a group of us will do the activities that are on the adventurous side, tomorrow another group will do activities that are on the leisure side and last day will be my day of activities; how does that sound?”

The skeletons look at each other, after a slight, awkward pause they all nod in agreement.

“Good then!”

You stood up, walked over to the kitchen canopy where you had previously set your bag, you dug out a small notepad and pen an sat back down.

“Now that we got that settled lets make our groups shall we?”

“You really intend to put us into groups?” Asked Boss.

“I did say there’d be two groups didn’t I?” That little dose of snark earned you a glare, you continued.

“Ok, the Adventure group activities for today are as follows. Hiking the Waterfall trail that will lead us back down to the lake where we can rent canoes and take a hour long ride along the river. When we get back we can have lunch and hike up ‘Grandads bluff’ a trail that takes you to a beautiful overlook of the entire forest. Then when we get back and if we have energy left we can do some fishing, catch and release only. That is on today’s agenda, now who would like to do this today?”

You started writing down names, Papyrus, Blue, Boss, Nox, and Poplar...though you were a bit worried about Poplar going on a long hike and you weren’t alone, Ash’s mouth was twitching, to the point he was biting the bottom half of his mouth.

You spoke up for him. “Poplar are you sure you can handle the hike, it’ll be a pretty long one.”

Poplar smiled. “Do not be worried for my sake, I’ll have plenty of friends with me in case something happens. I’m in wonderful hands!”

That smile of his should be outlawed, you couldn’t deny him now..that and he had a point he wasn’t going alone. You gave Ash a gentle nod, he reciprocated it by sharing a uneasy smile. You’d talk to him later and see if there was anything you could do to help ease his worries.

—————————————————————-

[Adventure start!]

The name may have been a little uninspired but then again you couldn’t help but feel it did the trail some justice. The six of you first passed by a small stream that carried some of the fallen leaves down the way. It started to widen to more of a creek though, you stopped and pointed out to Blue some of the cute little turtles sitting on the banks. The creek soon widened into more of a proper river.

You hiked up some steeper hills, that was a bit of a chore but those steeper hills also had smaller waterfalls around, they didn’t churn up white clouds of mists like larger ones did but they were just as pretty. The six of you had paused a moment to just listen to the river, it was whispering its soothing timeless lullaby.

Of course the whisper of the river began became silent, overshadowed by the thunder of the waterfall up ahead of you and your group. Cresting over the last hill you had arrived at the waterfall in question, it wasn’t a very tall waterfall. Not in the slightest, at best it was about as tall as a one story building but it was wide and it was beautiful. You read in the pamphlet that in the summer it was very popular swimming spot, it was a safe area to swim and there’s a tradition that the boys in the local scouts who complete/pass their swimming course would jump from the tallest part of the falls into the pool below as a rite of passage.

“My goodness...it’s absolutely marvelous!” Said Poplar, shielding his glasses from the mist coming from the waterfall.

“I was expecting something more grand but this is still nice.” Said Boss.

Nox simply nodded while Blue and Papyrus stared in silent wonder at the majesty before them. You stayed quiet, closing your eyes you just let the sounds envelop you. Lost in your thoughts...you imagined sitting on a porch as a thundershower runs its course. The mist of the rain against your face, the sounds of the thunder rolling through the sky....your thoughts were broken when a hand gently touched your shoulder.

“Hey you ok?” Asked Blue, you blinked and turned to him.

“Sorry, just got lost in my thoughts there...its just so pretty here.”

Papyrus hummed approvingly “Indeed human, this place is quite nice. You have great taste in destinations!”

After enjoying the falls for a bit and taking a few pictures the six of you hiked back down. You made sure to stick close to Poplar and help him down the steep hills, Papyrus helped out too. You and the boys took a different trail back that took you alongside the lake, as you walked you watched ducks, geese and a few sand cranes land fly by or land on top of the water or wade through the shallows.

The trail lead all the way back to the camp grounds but you and the boys bee-lined for the canoe rental hut, renting three canoe’s for at least an an hour an thirty minutes. You asked for an extra thirty minutes in case something happened......like the boys starting to fight or argue about things. Now came the hard part..who goes with who.

“How’s this going to work?” Blue asked looking at the canoe’s, he was thinking the same thing.

“Well obviously we choose a partner that won’t slow you down. I personally I’m thankful the others aren’t here, knowing Stretch or Sans they’d try an tip us over or something.” Said Nox as he inspected the oar’s.

You sighed and spoke up. “Look, I’ll set up the partners ok? I don’t wanna dilly dally and sit here arguing the entire time.”

There was some disgruntled jabs mostly from Nox...and a little from Blue but you were adamant, Boss, Poplar and Papyurs didn’t mind, he liked that you at least put thought in to your choices.

“Ok, Boss your partner is Papyrus, Nox your partners with Blue and lastly is Poplar and I, everyone got that?”

Everyone shared a look but gave you a firm nod, you smiled at them. At least they were not arguing about the arrangement. You took the front of the canoe you shared with Poplar, thankfully the river had small signs placed around for canoe and kayakers to follow so they didn’t get lost. Oh this truly was a treat, it really was. The slow pace down the river was the perfect way to wind down after a long hike, you tilted your head to one side to listen to the native birds. You could hear all kinds, chickadees, woodpeckers, finches, cardinals and morning doves to name a few.

You...felt tempted to splash Nox and Blue with your oar but decided not to. Last time you got Blue an Nox with a prank....well....you’d rather not think about it. You turned to check on Poplar a few times, he never noticed; he was just too absorbed in everything. Papyrus and Boss seemed to be getting along...well Boss seemed to be tolerating more then getting along. After coming around the last bend of the river you were right back at the lake, from where you were you could see all the campsites including yours. You actually got excited seeing the others walking around, you didn’t know why you just did.

Your excitement ebbed away when you heard your own stomach growling, yeah it was getting close to lunchtime. You returned the canoes and got your deposit back before returning.

“Hey, we’re back everyone!” You waved, as you expected they all were still in their chairs enjoying the fire.

“Welcome back, you guys have fun?” Asked Stretch.

“It was a blast! I can’t believe you guys ducked out of it, the waterfall was just beautiful!” Said Blue putting his hands on his hips, chest puffed out.

“It was an enjoyable experience, only made better with the fact that we were not disturbed by anyone’s nonsense.” Nox eyed the group that stayed behind.

You chuckle. “Alright guys, once we have lunch we’ll have one more hike an thats ‘Granddads bluff’. By the time we get back it’ll be time for dinner and-“

“Ohh....sorry to break it to you but that trail just got closed off, apparently a group of teens last night were setting off fireworks in there and somehow messed up the trail.” Russ didn’t make eye contact with you when he said that.

“What?! No way....”

Well that was a kick in the gut, that particular trail was suppose to be the grand jewel of the whole adventure day. Sans came up and patted your arm.

“Don’t be so down, besides if you guys went now there’d be no time to make dinner.”

You cocked your eyebrow at him, he took out his phone and showed you..it was already four in the afternoon!

Goodness it was almost time for dinner!

To be continued...

[I’m re-uploading this cause I found the post missing, thats why and so everyone knows this dedicated to @bonelyheartsclub thank you]

[labeteenmoi]

Alpha  II  part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3 and Part 4 and Part 5 and Part 6

Pairing : Donald Pierce x invented female character

Warning : a little violence, a little sexual notion

Summary : She remembers things.

Tags : @prettieparker86, @lainey-lane and @crazyfreckledginger since you asked for more, just hoping you won’t be disappointed.

Note : so, here is part 2, finally ! Damn, I thought I would never finish this because every single time I read it, I was always changing things... Also, I mostly write when I’m at work, which is bad, but this blog and stuff are my secret garden so...There will be a part 3 for sure, and I’m hoping again that the spirit from part 1 remains. Just let me know if anything seems unclear, there is a lot of back and forth in the characters’ memories in this part.

Gifs : credit to @cirunia and @sikanapanele

She no longer feels the wind on her face, nor, on her skin, the soft warmth of the sun that pierces the treetops. She only feels a hard floor under her body and the cold moisture that envelops her.

The metallic clicking of a door that is opened brings her mind a little more towards the surface.

“Fuck ...” plagues a familiar voice.

Feet rub on the floor and hands raise her a little from the ground by the armpits, and drag her out of whatever the place she’s at. She painfully opens one eye and does not immediately understand that the fuzzy stroke that she hardly distinguishes is the trickle of blood that flows from her mouth.

Her consciousness does not yet realize the pain that is about to burst in all her body, the aching and hematoma above her broken ribs. Only her ears perceive a distant sound, the shrill one produced by the rubbing of her legs against the waxed vinyl of the floor, and sometimes the whistle that escapes from her lungs when she inhales.

In the mist of her thoughts, a clear question manages to formulate itself: "Where am I?" Images and scraps of confused memories twist and then settle in order in her head.

Memories where she sees herself, feet and fists tied, thrown into a cage inside a van. There she sees this man, the man who has held her for so long that she does not remember when he stopped doing it. Crouching, inserting his human fingers in the mesh of the fence, he stares at her with curiosity.

“How do you call yourself, mutie? “ he questions.

She walks up and faces him, hooking her claws in the fence, just above his own hand.

She does not intend to reply, to tell him that the parents who were supposed to give her a name had never bothered to do so, as far as she could remember, nor that the children at school called her the beast or still dirty dog, when she showed her teeth, out of patience. She could tell him that for a long time, in the woods where she has lived since she fled from the orphanage, she does not need a name, for no one needs to call her. But she won’t, she just wants to observe and understand why this man disturbs her so much.

Despite her silence, he still smiles and does not leave the fence that separates their faces.

"Never mind," he resumed, with a detached look, "we've found your dog’s house in the woods, with all your little things...."

He scrutinizes the slightest reaction but the face of the beast is impassive, her gaze fixes a point that seems to be beyond the eyes of her jailer.

“... and then we'll study you, we'll eventually find where you come from ...”

She hears him but does not really listen to him. Absorbed by the emotions that this man causes in her, she focuses on his voice, as if it were the only sound that exists. It sounds deep, posed and reassuring. His slow flow soothes her as a cottony sensation hatches in her chest and then spreads to her neck. She sniffs the fingers that he leaves within reach; the smell of his flesh fills her nostrils with a whiff of comforting warmth. Attracted like a magnet, she rubs her face against the hand of the man, taken by an irrepressible need to curl up against him.

As her attention focuses on the rough texture of his skin and the warmth that emanates from it, the sudden silence of the man takes her out of her trance. As she crouches down at the bottom of the cage with eagerness, wondering what the fuck she was doing, he lets out a brief mocking chuckle along with a smile that remains suspended on his face for a few moments, before fading away, leaving only perplexity in his eyes.

The surface on which she’s lying is more flexible than the ground, almost soft. The dried blood in her nostrils scrambles a little the olfactory information that reaches her brain, but she distinguishes ethereal effluvia. The air is dry and motionless. Her eyes refuse to open, her swollen face is numb. Or is it the substance being injected into her arm that diminishes her senses and her will.

Her erratic thoughts jump from memory to memory without any coherence or connection between them. Some images seem almost unreal, to the point of making her doubt the truth of all the others. Yet, in the midst of this chaos, it is the face of this man who arises, looking at her, speaking to her and touching her. She is certain, it is very real.

“Standing, kitten!”

The man's cheerful voice and the blows he takes against the fence pull her out of her sleep as the doors of the van open.

He takes her through a parking lot, almost empty, then a corridor, then another to an elevator, without a word. He sometimes seizes her by the arm to direct her but remains behind. The beast can feel his gaze on her neck, and, through his silence, a certain confusion emanating from him.

While the metallic doors close on them and the machine begins its descent, he regains the use of words.

“Why did you let yourself be captured? “

With a raised eyebrow she looks at him over her shoulder, surprised and embarrassed by his perspicacity, and, for any answer, returns the same smile to him that he seems to love.

"Not talking will make your stay much more painful, honey. Others will be less patient than I am ...”

She shrugs and stares at the door in front of her, far from her the idea of admitting any kind of surrender. The man then passes an arm over her shoulder and folds it, striking her throat with his artificial wrist, forcing her to back away against him.

“It could be a hell, baby, but it could be a lot more bearable in here. All you have to do is answer my questions ... " he whispers with an ounce of irritation in his voice, sticking his face against her hair.

He holds her so strongly against him that she can feel his heart beating against her back and the movements of his rib cage when he breathes. He is dangerously close again and the same feeling of helplessness that when he caught her invades her.

"Couldn’t help it" she grumbles.

A tinkle rings and the doors of the elevator open. He holds her back a few moments, trying to understand the meaning of her words and then releases her without a word.

Stifled voices are heard:

“Mr. Pierce, what the hell happened? Have you seen in what state she is? “

“ It's gonna be fine, she's just a little rattled ...”

“Are you kidding me ? Did you do that to her? “

“Why would I? “

“Your hand for example ...”

“Listen Doctor Rice, I'll fix this, okay? She just picked up the bad guy and my men are a little tense ...”

The voices moved away. This Pierce, it was him, the troubling man. And the bad guy he talks about, it kind of rings a bell inside her head.

She recalls how her clothes were cut off from her body and her hands tied behind her back to prevent her from hurting the nurses. There she stands, freshly washed, free of blood and dirt, dressed in a simple white cotton blouse that contrasts with the color of her matte skin. It is he who retrieves her at the door of a bathroom, the bad guy. She remembers his eyes bewildered with fear and his cry as she threw herself on him in the woods. The arm of the guard is now covered with a thick bandage, and in his eyes she no longer sees fear but a sort of sadistic disdain when he examines her from top to bottom.

He pushes her in front of him. The chains at her ankles tinkle against the cold ground to the rhythm of the small steps that she is forced to make to advance in the corridors. They cross several of them, a succession of turns, white rooms and gray doors.

It is in front of one of these gray doors that he stops, opens it and then pushes her inside. It is only a box, cold and gray too, whose only light source is a bulb on the ceiling and the only comfort a mattress bare on the floor at the bottom of the room. He follows her and closes behind them.

"On your knees," he ordered.

She glares at him over her shoulder.

“On your knees, bitch! “ he yells this time, giving her a blow behind the knee.

By falling to her knees, she calculates the probability of chances she has of getting out of it not too much poked. But he is armed and she is hindered. The chances are slim.

As he goes around her, she hears the characteristic sound of a zip that goes down.

"Finally, it's worse than expected," she thinks, being beaten up does not sound so bad suddenly. Reflecting quickly, she raises her gaze towards the guard's face and ostensibly slams her jaw, showing off her panoply of fangs in a radiant smile. Faced with the vision of his sex cut, the guard interrupts his gesture and an expression of terror distorts his features.

She might bet he would never dare put a piece of himself in her mouth now, however the relief is short lived, soon fear turns into rage on his face.

“You fucking bitch! “ he yells, raising his fist.

She closes her eyes at the same time as the fist crushes on her jaw, throwing reddish saliva foam on the floor. She remembers congratulating herself for having left alive the only prey that had no robotic hands, before other insults and other blows fell on her, until her brain extinguished the light and muted the sound. It is therefore the taste of her own blood that she now feels in her mouth.

She opens her eyes without difficulty, and does not remember the last time she opened them. There is an eternity, maybe, or five minutes ago. First, she wonders if it was only a dream, a rotten thing that she would have eaten by mistake, only the light is strange in this place, artificially clear, it does not resemble her home. Then, when she wants to wave her arms, she feels the thick leather straps that hold her to the bed, too clean to be her own.

“Look at you ! Dr. Rice really does miracles with your species.”

The voice and the smell cut her in her reflection. He sits close by; she just has to lean her head to the side to lay eyes on him. The smile on his face and the delighted and considerate look he carries on would almost make her forget that she is being held against her will.

"He gave you one of his famous cocktails, you took back human form in no time," he continues, encouraged by the questioning eyes of the captive. “He has a crush on you, especially since I told him your weird way of reacting with me ...”

She nervously turns away, hoping he will shut up, but Pierce gets up and leans on the bed, clasping his hands under his chin.

“ ... Most likely abandoned by parents frightened by your appearance, mistreated by others, you ran away ... Rice is fascinated, really! A mutant returned to the wild! Well, savage ... but that can be tamed it would seem.” he finishes in an ironic tone.

"I'm not a fucking dog" she spits furiously, glaring at him.

Pierce straights up gently with a cynical smile.

"Oh I know baby, you’re more like a wolf. Your animal instinct has taken over so much that, like them, you need a pack. And a dominant male, a ... how he said already? An Alpha male?”

A wave of cold sweat suddenly runs through her body. This concept he’s talking about, she does not know exactly what it is, nor what it means. She only knows that Pierce causes in her emotions that she has never felt before, needs that her own body has never expressed, such as the intense desire to be protected by someone.

"Apparently, it's me ... your dominant male ..." he says, jubilantly leaning over her face.

"It proves you're just an animal, like me," she precipitately retorts, trying to turn the conversation away.

“Oh no ! Not like you darling! I'm not a fucking mutant. According to Rice, you know I'm stronger than you, that’s why you can’t hurt me.”

“ Really ?” she cuts him down, lowering her eyes on Pierce's metal hand, now intact.

He raises his hand and waves his metal fingers in front of his face:

“Oh that ! I do not blame you, you didn’t know yet who you were dealing with ... Now you know, and I know : you want me.”

He had formulated his last words slowly and taken the most sulphurous tone she had ever heard. His smile is wide enough to reveal his golden tooth while he gives her a charming look.

She suddenly feels her heart pulsate in her temples and her stomach revolt. Overwhelmed by feelings she does not understand, she is troubled and vulnerable to Pierce. This sudden frailty, which she did not know, makes her doubt her own ability to survive alone and question all she had learned about herself. And while her certainties collapse, he jubilates and plays with her, unaware of what he is destroying.

Pierce notices a change in the yellow look of his captive, it darkens and her fine features harden. Her lips turn up on her fangs when she says dryly:

“Get me off and I'll show you how much I want you.”

Pierce slightly retreats at first, surprised by the alteration of the atmosphere in the room, suddenly tense. Then resumes, displaying again an expression full of confidence, his blue eyes shining with excitement in front of the challenge that the beast launches to him.

While she does not let go of his gaze, he slowly defects the ties to her ankles and then to one of her hands. She struggles to contain her impatience and tries to anticipate in her mind the first movements of Pierce to retain her. There remains only one strap to detach, he lingers more than on the previous ones.

“I’ll be as sweet as poss ...”

The light of the room suddenly disappears, interrupting him, replaced by a rotating beacon whose red light turns on the ceiling and projects itself onto the white walls of the medical room, at the rhythm of a strident siren that seems to come from everywhere around them.

Stunned eyes turned towards the ceiling, Pierce swears, remembering that this type of alert is reserved for extreme cases of escape. When his eyes land again on the bed, it is empty.

[cafeshan]

There are many theories of representation and gender that absorb the world of film, and many films thereafter support these approaches unwittingly.  Some classic theories include Jeffords’ and Ayers’ ‘hard bodies’; Jeffords’, Chapman’s and Rutherford’s ‘New Masculinity’; and Mulvey’s ‘Male Gaze’.  These three appear so often without the spectator even realising for the majority of the time that they are a party to the success of the theory.

But every so often a film will come along and the theory boat will be rocked.

Let’s have a look into two great films that flout and conform to the theories above: ‘American Beauty’ (Mendes, 1999) and ‘Girlfight’ (Kusama, 2000).

Jeffords’ and Ayers’ theory describes the distinction between the ‘hard body’ and the ‘soft body’ in “two fundamental categories: the errant body containing […] immorality, illegal chemicals, ‘laziness’, […] which we can call the ‘soft body’; and the normative body that enveloped strength, labo[u]r […] courage – the  ‘hard body’” (Jeffords 1994: 24-25).

Ayers’ approach follows this, and describes the characters of a ‘hard body’ genre as “[…] the hardbodies hero [who] begins as an untrained, relatively ‘soft’ character who needs to be mo[u]lded in order to fulfil his hardbody destiny” (Ayers 2008: 46).  This theory is easily found in ‘American Beauty’ and through the representation of the character Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey). However, we can also apply this theory to the female protagonist Diana Guzman (Michelle Rodriguez) of ‘Girlfight’.

By focusing on the cinematography and sound in ‘American Beauty‘, it becomes evident where the roots of the ‘soft body’ to ‘hard body’ lie: in the physical progression of the character of Lester.  Jeffords’ and Ayers’ basic theory is that the spectacle of the male body comes across when one has “strength”: i.e. one becomes a ‘hard body’ through muscular dominance and is a ‘soft body’ if their form exhibits weakness.

“Loser” Lester – The Soft Body

Moulded to his ‘Hard Body Destiny’

Lester is initially introduced as such: a “loser” (Kord & Krimmer 2011: 203), an “untrained, relatively ‘soft’ character”, and it is “[t]he opening scenes [that] generally depict” this (Ayers 2008: 46). The opening narration by Lester tells us that “both [his] wife and daughter think [he’s] this gigantic loser, and they’re right” (American Beauty 1999).

The cinematography continues this notion, as it “play[s] upon images of power and powerlessness” (Tasker 1993: 230): the opening scenes put him into an inferior position against Carolyn (Annette Bening), depicting his ‘soft body’ and “powerlessness”. When the papers fall out of his briefcase, he kneels down. The action alone seems somewhat synonymous with ‘bowing-down’ to a governing figure. The camera is positioned slightly higher than his person, putting him at a lower angle.

The reverse shot positions the camera at a low angle to show Carolyn in an image of dominance, frowning down at him. Further, his positioning when in the car continues to depict the ‘soft’-ness of Lester, again highlighting his inferiority. He is set back from the women, slouched and “sedated” (American Beauty 1999); whereas the women sit tall, in front and more dominating.

When he gains the ‘hard body’ his depiction shifts – he is dominant, the camera positioned more often at eye level, taking away from his initial issues of ‘not being respected” (Ebert 1999). ‘American Beauty’ obliges to the ‘hard body’ genre as it introduces a scenario “in which the hero may display his body” (Ayers 2008: 46).

‘Girlfight’ similarly represents gender through ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ bodies, though it focuses on the female gender rather than the male. Despite this difference, the theoretical approach of Ayers’ and Jeffords’ still fits in.

The character of Diana goes along a rather similar path to Lester in ‘American Beauty’. They both start with the physicality of a ‘soft body’ before developing to Jeffords’ typical Reagan era ‘hard body’ (if we think of a ‘soft body’ here as being a binary opposite to a ‘hard body’, whereby a ‘soft body’ is lack of a ‘hard body’ (i.e. “strength” and “muscles” that depict “male power and domination” (Tasker 1993: 232))).

Diana’s character undergoes strong development physically as she goes from an “untrained, relatively ‘soft character” to a “hard body” as she pursues her passion and “destiny” (Ayers 2008: 46).

At the start of the film, Diana represents a ‘Soft Body’

In the early stages of the film, Diana is shown as struggling as she trains.  As the film progresses, she works to reach her ultimate ‘hard body’, ending with her winning a fight against Adrian (Santiago Douglas), and thus achieving her “destiny”.  What’s great about this film in respect of the theory is that it is the female gender which goes through the transition from ‘soft body’ to ‘hard body’.  Even greater is the fact that Diana is not constructed as abnormal for following in her masculine “destiny”.

With the representation of gender in ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ bodies being heavily depicted mainly through the lingering spectacle of the 1980s/early 1990s Reagan masculine form “that insisted on the external sufficiency of the male body”,  we now take a “step back from [the masculine body] spectacle” and focus on ‘New Masculinity’ – “Hollywood’s version of ‘difference’, or what it prefers to characterize as ‘justice’ and ‘equality’” (Jeffords 1993: 245-246).

For this, we look to Chapman, Rutherford and Jeffords’ theory and how it can be applied directly to the character of Lester in ‘American Beauty’ and the character of Sandro Guzman (Paul Calderon) in ‘Girlfight’.

Jeffords’ describes ‘New Masculinity’ as “Masculinity as Fathering”, and in using the case study of ‘The Terminator’ (Cameron, 1984), she makes a legitimate statement that can also apply to ‘American Beauty’: “the Terminator [goes]… from stranger to parent” (Jeffords 1993: 253).

Starting with ‘American Beauty’, Lester also goes “from stranger to parent” in a transition across both Jane (Thora Birch) and Angela (Mena Suvari). He applies his “active paternalism” (Jeffords 1993: 254) both indirectly and directly to the two girls. With Jane, Lester barely interacts with her, and she even comments: “You’ve barely even spoken to me for months” (American Beauty 1999). He is a “stranger” to her, not knowing anything about her or what happens in her life. With Angela he goes “from stranger to parent”, caring for her directly in his final moments.

Such actions seem to imply the Oedipus Complex, but when Lester realises Angela’s vulnerability, he quickly covers her, shielding her with a blanket, hugging her, and then making her food – something denominative of caring like a parent would for his child.

For Jane though, he is a “stranger”, but at the same time he thinks about his “Janey” in his final moments.  Lester spends the film transitioning his physicality from ‘Soft Body’ to ‘Hard Body’ in search of “destiny” and manliness, but in his final moments, Lester slips into his “active paternalism” (Jeffords 1993: 254), paving the way for his ‘New Masculinity’ to take shape.

And so, the Theory Boat rocks.

Forgone is the Reaganesque-Action-Hero-Hard-Body.  This is “Masculinity as Fathering”.

Sandro Guzman in ‘Girlfight’ also falls into this. He is depicted as a “domestic” father (Burns 2011: 15), without a job (at least this is never shown to the spectator), and as the sole parent bringing up two children alone. It is the mise-en-scene that depicts his ‘New Masculinity’ the most – as the majority of his screen time consists of him in the kitchen, a stereotypically domesticated and feminised location: “the kitchen [is] the natural sphere of a woman” (Shaw 1891: 42).

Displaying the character in this room often subjects him to “effeminacy or feminineness” and is “viewed as a form of emasculation” (Oliver 2003: 685). “He is manipulated, victimized, silenced and degraded” (Oliver 2003: 685), and this is all shown in the scene when Diana beats him.

The use of cinematography and mise-en-scene constructs the notion of emasculation.  A high-angled shot pointing down subjects him to vulnerability, and the positioning within the scene with Diana sat on top of him creates a dominated subjection to Sandro, as it is she who has the power over him. The mise-en-scene also reinforces this femininity, as it is Diana who now wears what has become culturally referred to as a ‘wife-beater’ undershirt (i.e. a sleeveless vest).  The colloquial name of the garment goes to describe its own synonymous attitude and gender, and due to the context of the scene in which it is use, the domestication of the male in ‘New Masculinity’ is therefore further enforced.

So in some ways ‘New Masculinity’ is the new man.  But there is an undertone of emasculation throughout such depictions.  Taking it a step further, in both films the men who reach ‘New Masculinity’ in their Fathering forms (Lester more optimistically than Sandro) both have their final scenes in the kitchen – a room stereotypical synonymous with femininity.

There’s a whole world of discussion that can link off from ‘New Masculinity’, so perhaps now is the best time to move on to Mulvey’s theory of the male gaze before we descend to far down that rabbit hole.

Perhaps one of the strongest theories in the theory of film, Mulvey’s theory of the male gaze looks at “how [female] bodies [are] presented to the camera and thus to the spectator” (Benshoff & Griffin 2004: 229).

In ‘American Beauty’, the male gaze of Angela is perhaps seen as the more ‘traditional’ form of male gaze. Angela becomes the object of desire for Lester, and she is quickly subjected to his male gaze. The scene in which Lester sees her for the first time is exemplary of this desire. As he gazes at her, there is an “over-investment in parts of [her] body” where her “breasts [and] legs are…‘picked out’ by the camera” (Hayward 2006: 447) through the lingering shots, and minor pans and tilts.

The lighting also comes into play in displaying his voyeuristic gaze onto Angela. A singular spotlight draws her out from the rest of the dancers. The bright light crafts her as an “angel” (Ebert 1999), an item that holds Lester’s entire attention and devotion. As Mulvey states, the character of Angela is “simultaneously looked at and displayed, with [her] appearance coded for… erotic impact” (Mulvey 2009: 809). She becomes subjected to Lester’s fetishistic scopophilia.

Jane herself is gazed at to a degree, particularly through her relationship with Ricky Fitts (Wes Bently). His voyeuristic male gaze represented through the cinematography works to show his minor objectification and fascination with her as he is “looking… is a source of pleasure” (Mulvey 2009: 806), but at the same time the fetishistic gaze towards her is rejected.  She becomes the object of desire for Ricky Fitts, and this is shown by his recording her whenever he sees her. However, instead of focusing on her body, Ricky’s voyeurism focuses on her face, generating more sensitivity to his objectification of Jane.

Instead of being fetishized through eroticism, Jane is fetishized through face value. Her “to-be-looked-at-ness” (Mulvey 2009: 809 {her emphasis}) comes through Ricky’s spectacle of her. When Angela is flaunting herself in the window to try and get Ricky’s attention, instead of focussing on the erotic spectacle, there is a zoom onto Jane’s face set in the background, showing Ricky’s voyeurism isn’t directly how Mulvey comments on the Male gaze – she is not eroticised, instead she is appreciated. When she takes off her clothes in the window for Ricky, instead of the camera picking out “breasts or legs” like Mulvey suggests, the camera composition that represents Ricky’s gaze cuts off her breasts and shows his sensitised focus on her face.

In ‘Girlfight’ though, Diana is not subjected to a fetishistic gaze, so instead of being “confine[d to] her sex” (Beauvoir 1949: 41) and objectified through her femininity, she becomes almost androgynous, “gender-neutral” (Pheasant-Kelly 2013: 1) in her depiction, and instead her fetishistic subjection comes through her masculine “animality” (Beauvoir 1949: 41).

In the opening sequence, there is a low shot of a body from the chest down. The hands-in-pocket, slouched posture and gender-neutral clothes “reinforces the ambiguous gender identity of the female action hero” (Tasker 1998: 68), thus rejecting the sexualisation appearance of the traditional male gaze. It’s an androgynous body, unidentifiable as female or male, and therefore un-sexualised. The female gender in this shot alone is not one to be eroticised or fetishized, and this is maintained throughout the rest of the film. The male gaze is in the film, though the male gaze is displayed to the spectacle through the vision of the muscular body and masculine form, rather than a sensual and erotic female. There are “lingering close-ups and soft light” ((Lindner 2009: 10) cited in (Pheasant-Kelly 2013: 5)) as Diana walks through the boxing gym for the first time, showing almost eroticised images of the male, such as “an extreme close-up of [a boxer’s] back as it is massaged […] oiled muscles […] flexed” (Lindner 2009: 10).

Both films offer amazing opportunities to analyse the representations of gender, both from a subversive perspective and a submissive one.  Ultimately, though, they both rock the Theory Boat enough to bring a new age on man to the screen.

Welcome to the New ‘New Masculinity’, where both the Reagan Hollywood Hero, and the “domestic god” are dead (Burns 2011: 15).

*

Bibliography

Ayers, D. (2008) ‘Bodies, Bullets and Bad Guys: Elements of the Hardbody Film’. Film Criticism 32 (3), pp.46.

Beauvoir, S. De (1949) ‘The Second Sex’. (Translated by Borde, C. and Malovany-Chevallier, S.) Reprint, New York: Vintage Books, 2011.

Benshoff, H. M.; Griffin, S. (2004) ‘America on Film’. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing Ltd.

Burns, A. (2011) ‘Tell Me All About Your New Man’: (Re)Constructing Masculinity in Comtemporary Chick Texts. Networking Knowledge: Journal of the MeCCSA Postgraduate Network [online] 4(1) pp. 1-34 [Accessed 10/03/2016]. Available at: <http://ojs.meccsa.org.uk/index.php/netknow/article/viewFile/65/65>

Easthope, A. (1986) ‘What a Man’s Gotta Do: The Masculine Myth in Popular Culture’ in Stiebel, L. (1987) Book Review: What a Man’s Gotta Do: The Masculine Myth in Popular Culture Agenda: Empowering Woman for Gender Equity. [online]. 1(1) pp. 63. [Accessed 07/03/2016). Available at: <http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10130950.1987.9674683>

Ebert, R. (1999) American Beauty. [Review]. [Online]. [Accessed 07/03/2016]. Available at: < http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/american-beauty-1999>

Hayward, S. (2006). Cinema Studies – The Key Concepts. Abingdon: Routledge.

Jeffords, S. (1993) ‘Can Masculinity be Terminated?’ in Cohan, S; Hark, I. (ed.) ‘Screening the Male: Exploring Masculinities in Hollywood Cinema’. New York: Routledge. pp. 245-262

Jeffords, S. (1994) ‘Hard bodies: Hollywood masculinity in the Reagan era’. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press

Johnson, S. (1773) ‘A Dictionary of the English Language’. London: W. Strahan. [Accessed 12/03/2016]. Available at: <http://johnsonsdictionaryonline.com/?page_id=7070&i=685&gt; pp. 685.

Kord, S; Krimmer, E. (2011) ‘Contemporary Hollywood Masculinities’. [online] New York: Palgrave Macmillan. pp. 203. [Accessed 07/03/2016]. Available at: <https://www.dawsonera.com/readonline/9781137016218>

Lindner, K. (2009) ‘Fighting for Subjectivity: Articulations of Physicality in Girlfight’. Journal of International Women’s Studies. [online]. 10(3) pp. 10. [Accessed 13/03/2016]. Available at: <http://vc.bridgew.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1249&context=jiws&gt;

Mulvey, L. (2009) ‘Visual and Other Pleasures’. 2nd London: Palgrave Macmillan.

Nichols, B. (2007) ‘Introduction to Film Studies’ 4th Abingdon: Routledge.

Oliver, K. M. (2003) ‘Frances Sheridan’s Faulkland, the Silenced, Emasculated, Ideal Male’. Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900 [online]. 43(3) pp. 683-700 [Accessed 12/03/2016]. Available at: <http://www.jstor.org.ezproxy.wlv.ac.uk/stable/4625090?pq-origsite=summon&gt;

Pheasant-Kelly, F. (2013) ‘Reframing Gender and Visual Pleasure: New Signifying Practices in Contemporary Cinema’ in Padva, G. and Buchweitza, N (eds.) The Phallic Eye: Sensational Visual Pleasures in Cinema and Literature. London and New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Shaw, G. B. (1891) ‘The Quintessence of Ibsenism’ UK: Walter Scott. pp. 42

Tasker, Y. (1993) ‘Dumb Movies for Dumb People: Masculinity, the body, and the Voice in Contemporary Action Cinema’. in Cohan, S; Hark, I. (ed.) ‘Screening the Male: Exploring Masculinities in Hollywood Cinema’. New York: Routledge. pp. 230-244.

Tasker, Y. (1998) ‘Working Girls. Gender and Sexuality in Popular Cinema’. Reprint, London and New York: Routledge, 2000.

Filmography

American Beauty (1999) Directed by S. Mendes [Film]. USA: Dreamworks.

Girlfight (2000) Directed by K. Kusama [Film]. USA: IFC Films.

The Terminator (1984) Directed by J. Cameron [Film]. USA: Orion Pictures.

  The Theory Boat Rocked: Male Gaze and the Masculine Form in 'Girlfight' (Kusama, 2000) and 'American Beauty' (Mendes, 1999) #filmtheory There are many theories of representation and gender that absorb the world of film, and many films thereafter support these approaches unwittingly. 

[easkyrah]

pleaaseee can i have some elorcan werewolf canons please please also cant wait for your next update!!!

Elide sees Lorcan’s wolf for the first time at midnight as she stargazes in her backyard. Spotting the large midnight dark wolf, she whispers fluffy. Fluffy goes onto his hind legs and holds his paws out, a whine escaping his maw, demanding to be pet. Elide indulges him, and Lorcan’s wolf licks Elide’s leg while she scratches him behind his ears. Later, Elide buys Lorcan a collar for his birthday that’s pink and says “fluffy” on it. On certain days when he’s feeling it, Lorcan prances around in his wolf form to show who owns him, proudly. Only Elide’s allowed to see it, though. He’s still got an reputation to maintain. 

Elide tames the big bad wolf. He’s a ruthless predator, and can take down bears and mountain lions at the same time. Cunning, sly, and powerful, he’s the ideal epitome of the Alpha. The first time he sees Elide, he rolls into the river, trying to wash the blood off his coat, not wanting a monster to be her first impression. He doesn’t expect the water to be cold, so he jumps out, and his mate’s first words to him are you drowned rat. He bows his head and shamelessly and fruitlessly tries to clean his coat, and eventually Elide strokes him to help, and he loses it right then and there, his tongue lolling out and he pants so hard Elide thinks he’s having a seizure.

After Lorcan’s been courting Elide, trying to swoon her over into the final stage of the mating process, she catches Essar and Lorcan chatting in her own backyard where she met Lorcan. Essar’s hand touches Lorcan’s cheek, telling him goodbye, but Elide doesn’t hear that, and stalks out of her own house, and into a bar. After Essar leaves, Lorcan searches wildly for his mate, tearing the house apart, and tracks her scent to the bar. Seeing the other unmates males pawing at his mate, he roars and carries Elide back to their house bridal style. Elide’s pouting and has other males’ scents on her, so Lorcan, quite shamefully, turns to drinking. While Elide’s moving her stuff out of Lorcan’s room, she finds Lorcan clutching the pink collar to his chest. His eyes flutter open and he slurs out, asking if they’re dating, and if she’s single, if she’ll have him. Elide merely gives him water.

Lorcan doesn’t have hangovers, much to everyone’s dismay. He takes Elide to the woods for a picnic and asks her to be his girlfriend again from the start, and after he shifts into his midnight wolf, licking her and rubbing his fur against her body, she finally says yes. His wolf yips out and flops himself next to her, and Elide shifts into her white wolf. Two animals lying next to each other in the Sun, and Lorcan’s wolf lightly bites Elide’s tail, eyes holding raw playfulness. Next thing you know they’re shooting through the woods, Elide a bullet, Lorcan attempting to nip Elide’s paws. Elide races forward, stumbling into a river, cold water causing her body to shake. Lorcan’s wolf licks her pelt dry and covers her shivering body with his, licking behind her own ears, just as she used to scratch him behind his own ears. He’s so absorb with his mate’s scent that his cock twitches, especially awkward as he’s on top of Elide, who freezes. Lorcan jumps into the river for his own douse of cold water. 

They’re stargazing in the backyard, Elide pissing in the spot where Essar last sat. Lorcan merely nips Elide’s tail, and they sit at the fringes, blanketed in the darkness. Lorcan thinks he’s never seen anything so beautiful under the moon, and staring at the white wolf, he knows that he belongs to her. Elide feels her mate’s gaze, and turns her head, seeing his doting looks. Her wolf quickly looks away, while Lorcan’s wolf yips, and the next thing she knows, her wolf’s belly is exposed and Lorcan’s rubbing his maw across from her. Elide relaxes into her mate’s affections, and listen to his beast rumble of all the adventures of successfully killing bears and mountain lions, knowing its his male behavior trying to impress the female. 

It takes nearly a year for Elide to convince Lorcan for her to join him on a hunt. When she kills her first bear, wearing out her prey for what seemed an eternity, her mate cries, and licks away her wounds, howling to the wind that this female is his and how he’s underestimated her. Elide merely shakes her head, and asks a favor from Lorcan, who agrees on the spot. The next day, Lorcan proudly hands Elide a skinned bear blanket with leather on the other side, a sign that she’s not the damsel in distress and not unworthy of the predator. Her wolf rolls around in the blanket and cocoons in it so her head pokes out, and Lorcan’s wolf strides over, and licks her face affectionately, showering her with kisses. 

When Elide goes in heat, Lorcan pleads for someone, anyone, to cut off his cock, which literally screams for Elide. He ends of locking himself with silver chains in the basement for prisoners so he won’t unwillingly take his mate. Elide finds him and frees him, much to his protest, saying he doesn’t want him to chain herself up like she was chained, all because of her, and Lorcan’s too immobilized to move, his cock straining for her. The pain’s so unbearable he shifts into wolf form, and growls lowly at his mate to leave, but Elide sits stubbornly on the cell floor, also in pain from the heat, and shifts, and both relinquish control to their wolves, who tackle one another, teeth snapping. With the last shred of his control, Lorcan licks the scruff of Elide’s neck and carries her to the backyard’s fringes, where they shift under the fading moon, where Lorcan claims Elide and they complete the mating process, tearing at each other as their inner animals howl in synchrony. 

Bonus: Elide and Lorcan have just finished their hunt and shift into their human forms. Elide screams, seeing a large spider on Lorcan’s ass. Lorcan just cheekily grins while Elide demands Lorcan smack it. Being the total muscle master, Lorcan flexes his ass cheeks and the spider falls off, because yes, he does have an ass, while Elide simultaneously swallows and reaches forward to smack the spide, but misses, ending up spanking Lorcan harshly, who’s wearing the pink fluffy collar. 

Hope that suffices ~ may add more later.

[aliceinthewritingrepublic]

Honey Dipper

Title: Honey Dipper

Fandom: Fire Emblem

Pairing: Gaius/Female Avatar

Rating: MA

Word Count: 3430

-

Robin goes to take inventory of the castle's larder. Gaius, who was just about to steal some food, hides.

Whenever the shepherds were back in Ylisstol for extended amounts of time, Robin tended to grow restless. There was only so much tactical planning even a perfectionist like her could do, and eventually she would always run out of useful things to do. Thus she had taken to looking for odd jobs, or if there were none readily available, to create them herself.

Today, for instance, she had decided to take inventory of the castle’s food storage. As a result, she had been inside the larder for the better part of the afternoon, scribbling away into her omnipresent notebook so she could plan out what needed to be restocked.

All the while she could have sworn there was a mouse or something of the sort around. More than once she had heard small noises in the large cellar room and gone to investigate only to find nothing. Then, as soon as enough time had passed for her to forget all about it, the same would happen again.

Perhaps she was simply hearing things; she had been sleeping too little even now that the war was not as immediately present. She always felt like she should be doing more and was prone to rumination that made it difficult to find sleep.

There it was again! This time the sound was louder than before. This could not be simple imagination after all. Robin rose from the crate she had been sitting on and quietly stepped towards the corner she believed to be the direction it had come from.

“Is anybody in here?” she asked tentatively, feeling a little stupid talking to what she still believed to be a room containing nothing but food stores.

“Oh, for Grima’s sake,” a voice cursed, loud but muffled. Robin jumped a little in surprise. As it turned out, the room had not been quite as devoid of life as she had believed.

An especially disorderly stack of crates moved a little as the crate on its far side was pushed out and out came… Gaius. The ginger rogue they had recruited a while ago now. And suddenly it all made sense: if one was to expect anybody in the larder, sugar-addicted Gaius was certainly the first person to come to mind.

“Gaius!” Robin yelled for lack of words. How long had he been here?

“Yes, Robin,” he grumbled, dusting himself off and stretching. It must have been pretty cramped behind those crates. “I was going to sit it out and wait until you left again, but you’ve been here for what? Four hours?” He paused to emphasize the amount of time. “How do you concentrate on anything for that long? You work too much.”

“I’m… sorry?” she asked rather than stated, still a little overwhelmed by the fact that he had been in here this entire time. “What were you doing here?”

He hesitated for a moment before replying. “This is where the food is. You know me. I’ll give you three guesses.”

That she knew him was a fact. To be completely truthful, she probably knew him better by now than she knew many of the people she had been fighting with for longer amounts of time. Gaius had been easy for Robin to get along with from the start. While travelling they often shared guard shifts, sitting around the fire together, laughing and telling each other stories. Well, he was usually the one doing most of the storytelling, since there were only a few months she remembered from before they had met. But Robin liked listening to him. He had soon taken to calling her ‘sweet stuff’. She also liked that part, though she did not like to think too much about why she liked it so much.

“Okay. Fair enough,” she answered, smiling at him but raising an eyebrow in mock judgment. “So you hid when I came in here?”

He nodded. “How was I supposed to know you were planning on making this your new home?”

“You’re exaggerating! I haven’t been here that long.” Okay, so maybe she had forgotten about time a little bit. It often happened to her when she got caught up in the work she was doing. “Besides, it does kind of serve you right for stealing food in the first place.”

He answered her amusement by crossing his arms. “I wasn’t going to take a lot! Just enough so… no one would notice, you know? They do have all the best kinds of honey here, you know. It’s impossible to resist the temptation!”

She mimicked him by crossing her arms also, laughing. “For you, maybe. Sometimes I think you have a serious problem, Gaius.”

“Oh, get off my back with that moralizer talk of yours. I’m not hurting anyone! Also, I can’t believe you’d claim not to have been here ‘that long’” – underlined by air quotations – “after several hours. If I’m addicted to sugar, you’re addicted to work. And I think mine’s healthier personally.”

Robin knew it was not Gaius’s intention to insult her, but she did feel a little attacked. Yes, she probably would not have needed to take on the task of taking inventory herself, someone working at the castle would have done it either way, and perhaps it seemed ridiculous to the outside observer, but… but what? But, she needed to do something after all. Everyone was doing their part and she could not help the continuous feeling she had that she was not doing enough herself.

Apparently the look on her face had been rather telling, so Gaius was quick to try for some damage control.

“I’m just teasing you, Robin. I’m sorry if that came out wrong.” His gaze moved to the floor between them for a moment before he met her eyes again. “But you do work too much. I mean, have you looked into a mirror recently? Those circles under your eyes just keep getting darker. And that’s even though we’re not even out in the field! There’s no battles and you have a normal bed to sleep in, you should be sleeping more if anything!”

Now Robin involuntarily looked downwards as well. She could only barely see the tips of her feet below the wide tactician’s cloak she was wearing.

“It’s just…” How could she word this so he would understand what she meant? “Everyone’s doing so much. For the war efforts, for the group, for the royal family, for the people…” She swallowed. “And I feel like I’m not doing much at all. Like I’m not helping whatsoever.” Admitting it felt even worse. Now it was out there and she could not take it back.

Then Gaius’s hands – they were nice hands, large and masculine – were on her shoulders. Robin looked up at him in surprise, finding a look of serious determination on his face.

“The worst part about that is that you’re actually being serious. I don’t know how you got that idea, but you’re one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. The only person who just maybe works even more than you would be Frederick, and I’m not too sure that’s actually the case. No one thinks you’re not doing enough. The opposite actually. Everyone’s looking up to you for how seriously you take your job and how well you do it. You shouldn’t be doubting that for a second.”

Robin could feel the warmth rising to her face. Could it be that her self-perception and the way others saw her differed that greatly? She found it hard to believe, but the sincerity in Gaius’s eyes was impossible to deny. She held his gaze for as long as she could bear to, until the intensity became too much and she had to avert her eyes again.

Thankfully he did not force her to look at him. Instead, he pulled her into a loose, sweet embrace. It was unexpected but not unwelcome at all. It seemed he was ready to let her go again after a few moments, but that was an exit she did not want to take. Instead, she lifted her own arms and snaked them around his waist, returning the hug. He was tall enough for her to lay her head on his chest comfortably.

It was greedy of her, but she simply needed to absorb his closeness, if only for a few moments.

He soon spoke again, not letting go of her. “You know, even with those shadows under your eyes, you’re still plenty nice to look at, sweet stuff.” There he was again, her flirty friend-or-was-it-something-more. She had almost been missing him.

Despite the warmth in her cheeks she lifted her head from his chest to look up at him. “Careful, Gaius. One of these days I might end up thinking you’re serious.” She hoped her lopsided smile was enough to subtly hint at her hopes without giving away too much yet. If he was in fact only joking, she wanted to give him the chance to say so without being afraid to hurt her feelings.

His arms around her tightened slightly, one hand moving to the small of her back and pulling her body against his just enough to make her swoon a little. “Who says I’m not serious?” His voice was rougher now somehow, quiet yet causing an echo in Robin’s ears. “I’m deadly serious.” Gaius’s face was close enough now for her to feel his breath on her cheek and the corner of her mouth. He was not inching any closer however.

Was he waiting for her to make a move? She reacted in a way that could only be described as reflexively, no thought process involved whatsoever.

She kissed him quite desperately, and he happily responded in kind. His tongue in her mouth was so much sweeter than she had dared to imagine in those nights she had been lying awake, when her thoughts would often turn to him – something she never would have admitted to any living soul until now.

Her arms that had been wound tightly around his waist moved as she went on to explore the plains and elevations of his back, feeling where his spine dipped and where his shoulder blades stood out. Onwards across his wide shoulders and onto his bare upper arms that she had always been curious to feel under her fingers.

She moaned into his mouth as his hands went on their own journey, pulling open her cloak and charting the shape of her body underneath. Every spot he touched felt a little as if it had been lit on fire and while it embarrassed her, she could not keep herself from pushing her body even further into his touch, wordlessly begging him to press his fingers into her waist harder, to squeeze her breasts harder through the material of her top.

His lips abandoned hers to move onto her jaw and then her neck, his kisses leaving more fire in their wake.

“Gaius,” she all but whimpered, wanting more, wanting more now. She held onto him tightly, the fingers of one hand weaving their way into his lovely orange hair, only coincidentally not messing up his headband.

His hand gave her breast another firm squeeze before his thumb focused on her hard nipple. It felt heavenly even through the fabric. His other hand traveled downwards until it found the back of her thigh. “You’re eager,” he assessed and she thought she could feel him smiling against the side of her neck.

“I’ve been wanting you for the longest time,” she confessed, grateful for the lack of eye contact right in this instant. It was easier to admit it this way.

He pressed a kiss to her jaw that was soft in comparison to the ones that had come before. “And I’ve been wanting you ever since I’ve known you.”

In addition to the heat between her legs there was suddenly another pool of warmth growing inside her chest.

Gaius’s hand that had been teasing her breasts moved to the back of Robin’s other thigh and without further notice, he picked her up. Thankfully she had been holding onto him anyways and thus did not lose balance.

He did not take her far. In fact, he simply turned around a little and took a few steps forward before setting her back down onto one of the many wooden crates. In the process, Robin’s cloak fell off her shoulders, sliding down her arms and revealing bare skin.

Gaius knelt down in front of the crate he had placed her on.

Not quite sitting up, Robin moved so she could get a better look at him. His hair was tousled, his eyes darker than usual, and his face and neck a little reddened from the excitement. If that was what he looked like, she could only fathom how ravaged she must have looked in comparison.

His fingers hooked into the top of her leggings and he swiftly peeled them off of her, taking her underwear along right away. She was left naked from the waist down, still wearing her top and even her cloak, even if the latter was ruffled.

“What are you…?” she trailed off, wanting to know what he was planning on doing, but feeling stupid for asking.

“Showing my appreciation for your hard work,” he grinned mischievously, thriving on the blush his words brought to her face.

And as if those words had not been enough, he gently but firmly pulled her knees apart so her center was laid bare before his eyes.

Robin felt the strong impulse to look away so she would not have to see the fascination and the tangible… appetite on his face, but the arousal it caused her was stronger than the embarrassment. She felt so lewd, clothed except for the most intimate parts of her, in a storage room of all places, and his mouth so unbearably close to where she desired him. He had not even done anything yet besides looking at her and already she felt strung and ready to snap.

“If you don’t do anything soon, I’m going to die, I think,” she mumbled, not realizing she had voiced the thought until it was already out there.

“You won’t,” he promised, stroking the inside of one thigh affectionately. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her other thigh, only a few inches from her knee – miles away from where she needed his attention. She was so wet, wet enough to feel the excess lubrication slowly trailing down from her slit with every involuntary spasm of her inner muscles caused by Gaius’s licking and sucking on the insides of her thighs. He would get closer slowly, close enough to make her believe for a second that he was going to give her what she needed – and then he would be gone again, to start the torture all over again.

Within a few minutes, Robin was almost, but not quite, ready to cry from desperation. So much so that she had let her head fall back, unable to watch him any longer while he refused to let her have her satisfaction.

It took her a moment to register that he had stopped his ministrations. Confusion set in – what was the next step of his devious plan? She was afraid to even look up.

But her head shot up instinctively when she felt something cold on the skin that was already tender from his mouth’s tantalization. Robin barely believed her own eyes. Gaius was holding a wooden honey dipper, dripping small beads of honey onto her skin.

If she had thought she could not feel any obscene just before, she now knew better.

“Only you,” she panted. “Only you would have an idea like that.”

He grinned at her wickedly, putting down the dipper. If he felt any shame, he sure was good at hiding it. “A long-standing fantasy of mine. I saw the chance and I took it. That’s what you get for letting me have you in the larder.”

She wanted to shoot back something glib but her mind seemed to malfunction when he went back to his task of letting her feel his tongue everywhere but where it was supposed to go. The stickiness of the honey only made him lick all the harder, and for a few moments Robin was sure she could hear him humming in utter satisfaction. And yet, her needs remained unmet.

“Turns out, honey tastes even sweeter when I get to lick it from your skin, sweet stuff,” he informed her once he thoroughly cleaned her of the mess he had made.

At this point, Robin was unable to say anything at all in return. All she could form was a noise that was equal parts frustration, desperation and pure, unadulterated begging.

He finally reached around her thighs to grasp her hips and pull her towards him a little more so her center was level with the edge of the crate she was now more lying than sitting on.

And then, finally – finally! – he gave her poor, swollen clit the attention it so craved. He pulled it between his lips and sucked, softly for a moment and then almost harshly, rolling his pointed tongue over it a few times, and –

And that was all it took to undo her. Without a single finger of his even having made its way inside her, she was coming, her insides squeezing tightly around nothing at all. Her legs lifted off the floor on their own accord, soon resting on Gaius’s shoulders instead, ankles crossed behind his back, keeping him from pulling away.

Not that he had had any intention to pull away – he kept sucking on her clit in earnest, prolonging her orgasm to an extent that should have been forbidden.

Robin noticed her own legs shaking while she was coming back to reality. It was only when she whimpered due to the overstimulation that he pulled his mouth from her clit.

She exhaled deeply, trying to get her breathing to slow down. It would not work for another few minutes at least.

Too weakened to say anything, she lifted herself onto her elbows to look at Gaius only to find him looking back at her. She smiled at him warmly. He sat up on his knees a little and rested his head on her stomach, closing his eyes and breathing in her skin.

Robin’s fingers lazily trailed through his hair, the softness of her touch betraying a lovingness that stood in grave contrast to the intensity from moments earlier. If only they could stay like this forever. She could not remember ever having felt so beautifully spent…

But of course they could not stay here. Especially not while she was half-naked – and the more incriminating half to boot.

Gaius apparently realized this too and proceeded to regretfully lift his head and stand up. He handed Robin her underwear and leggings which she pulled on while sitting. Then, he held out both hands for her to take.

She did and he pulled her up. Her knees were even shakier than she had been anticipating, so she steadied herself by wrapping her arms around him and hugging him once more. Standing up, she could feel the sheer abundance of her fluids leaking into her underwear. She decided to ignore it for the time being.

Gaius returned her embrace, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“I…” she whispered hoarsely. “I don’t know what to say.” She paused. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I enjoyed myself a lot, you know.”

“Did you…?” she asked into his chest, still, after everything, too shy to look him in the eye while asking.

He laughed and squeezed her a little tighter to his chest. “Yes. Like I said, that was a fantasy of mine. Better not press against my pants too much, lest you feel the stain.”

She laughed along with him, relieved that he had not been left high and dry. “I’m glad.”

They were quiet for a while after that, simply enjoying each other’s presence.

Eventually, Gaius spoke up again. “When I said I’d wanted you ever since I’d known you, I wasn’t lying. And I didn’t just mean sexually either.”

Robin moved a little so she could press an affectionate kiss to his jaw from below. “Me either.”

He squeezed her shoulders tightly once more, letting her confirmation settle for a moment before speaking again, the happiness in his voice matching the warmth in Robin’s chest.

“I’m glad.”

[talesofgrandia-blog]

Dark Reunion to Light Pt.2

Gizemeh was taken into the Pandun home where he slowly awakes. Kuro-sa sleeps and he is able to take just a little bit of solace. Raising his own personal morale.

It had been a little bit of time. But after some time, Gizemeh began to wake up to dimmed sounds of merriment. Curious he gets up but only to be greeted by a familiar glowing figure. “Ah. I see you come to. Quite resilient indeed.” Gaunga spoke to him. Sitting in meditation facing away from Gizemeh. But in a moment gets out of his stance to turn and face the human. “I must apologize for my choice of action to quell Kuro-sa. As I know its your body.” He says but Gizemeh raises his hand to prompt him to stop. “I understand. No need for apologies. My actions are no longer mine when it comes to Kuro-sa taking over. Though, I feel it’s...dormant. What did you do?” Gizemeh asks in confusion. His hood was down, showing his unkempt hair from the months that have passed. “I released a shock that should keep Kuro-sa dormant for some time. In hopes to quell some of their anger.” Gaunga explains. “The pandun here should be fine knowing that it has. But I know you both wish for something different. Especially different from what the Korai had to offer. Or moreso, a way to be apart.” Gizemeh looks shocked hearing this being know the existence of the Korai. “Your uniform. You remind me of a good acquaintance. I can only assume he had taught you what he knows.” Gaunga states, furthering Gizemeh’s shock and urges him to ask questions. “You knew my sensei?! Serein Fahrin?! Y-yes! He did teach me everything. But also taught me how to be restrained in the instances of anger. Which now are hard with Kuro-sa in the mix of things.” Gizemeh says excitedly but explains. He is unsure and unwanting of what Kuro-sa does in his stead. “Do not worry about Kuro-sa. I am meditating on a solution to this shared plight. I’m sure I can do something that will ease both of you. But now that you are awake. I implore you to go around this village. And experience the world of the people you share Run-fa with.” Gaunga assured to Gizemeh before pushing aside a sheet that covered the entrance to the room they were in. And as the bright light cleared in his eyes, Gizemeh looked upon it. A small bustling village of pandas enjoying their lives. Many carrying foods or fruits. Others were having fun and playing games along with the children who giggled in their fun and joy. Gizemeh could only stare out at them and soon smile. He had not seen a people like this since the better days of Korai and was a reprieve of hope for this warrior. The rest of this day was a happy one. A grand difference to what Gizemeh has been a part of for months. He joined the pandun in their everyday activities. Even learning some of their culture and technique surrounding peace, food, brew, and balance. He had even gotten his unkempt do cleaned up. A female pandun gathering his hair and tying it up into a tail, providing a new look for him. Leading up to partake in a meal with them. The food they make was familiar. Large pots placed down lighting up the area in a savory scent as senses get bombarded as the lids get removed. Revealing large pots of ramen noodles, filled to the brim with vegetables and big chunks of fried pork or beef. It was enough to even make Gizemeh drool and his stomach reactivate. He had been lightly eating in his travel, and now his stomach was craving this delicious food like he was starving. Everything was served in decently sized portions. These pandun were a heavy set people. Of course they ate a lot. But this was no match for an actually hungry warrior. Especially one that hasn’t eaten in a few days. The taste sent him into a state of bliss and feels that he has truly, truly found peace. Losing his cool he scarfs it down. The pandun around chuckle at him. Even giving him a second helping of the delicacy. It almost brought a tear to his eye. But his joy began to waver as something stirred within him. Realizing what it was he had to excuse himself from the crowd and made his way quickly back to Gaunga, who had just finished meditating when it hit him. The pain burst into him like an extremely harsh hunger pain. Doubling over in agony his uniform began to change and him with it before his writhing stopped. Gaunga’s gaze never left Gizemeh even when Kuro-sa decided to finally awake. And to the surprise of noone, she was extremely pissed. With an angered groan she springs to life, immediately confronting Gaunga. “What the hell! You knock me out for what reason?!” She yelled angrily at her crystalline counterpart, grasping the color of his monk-like attire. Jarring him slightly before Gaunga just slightly pushes her to get her off before explaining. “I did that honestly to get you to calm down a little. And forcing you to take a nap seemed to work. Your shadow isn’t acting vile right now. Though your dark presence is already making some of the pandun here uneasy. And it gave an opportunity, even if small, to let the boy love life for what it is.” He explains confidently. Unafraid of Kuro-sa’s usual intimidating musings. “And what did you spend your sweet time doing. Meditating on how to make sure he’s not public enemy number one?” Kuro-sa chuckles at even the gesturing thought of caring for Gizemeh’s life. But her laugh dies quickly as she remembers that her life is in fact tied to his now. “Just so you know. I was doing exactly that. Trying to think of a way to allow you two to be separated but still bound. I know the risk of actually separating you. My power won’t work. It will take someone who can tap and work with mind, body, and soul.” He thinks to himself a moment. Trying to work out what will be needed. “Trust me. I believe it will be beneficial to you both if you had your own tangible form Kuro-sa.” “Only because I’m tired of using this...shell to do what I need to do.” She responds. Disgruntled about her situation. Making clear evidence that she wants to be her own separate entity again.

 “I want my own body again. You shattered mine decades ago. If it weren't for your power and me being trapped within this mortal, I would have done the same earlier. ” She growled at him. Still very begrudged about her imprisonment within the Korai. 

“I remember what I did then. And I'm still not sorry. It's what you deserved for what you did leading up to attacking those humans. You didn't have to destroy that poor girl and take her from her family. Now that it has been some time. I wish to make amends. Though with your previous body shattered, you will have to take on a new form.” He explains, returning to a meditative pose. “Hmph. I can see the gears turning in your head. What’s your plan oh bright one?” Kuro-sa says with utmost sarcasm. “The elders of this village aren’t going to like this. But deep in those forests to the east, lives another pandun. She was outcast from this village after a hard choice to absorb a large wave of negative energy to protect her people. She has become forever corrupted by her new power. But she is still a gifted healer. Seek her out and she may be able to help you further.” Gaunga explains straightforwardly. “Good. I’m sure you heard that Notoki.” Kuro-sa says before the body goes limp and falls. Like passing out as the dark coloration fades away from Gizemeh’s body. Giving him control once more.

Grasping his head to soothe the brief headache from the swap. He looks to Gaunga with an affirming nod. “I'll leave for it tonight.” he plans immediately but is stopped by Gaunga for just a moment longer. 

“I cannot stress enough to be careful around this pandun. She was a gifted healer in her past, she is not quite herself anymore. That and to be careful of the Vulfen. They're wolf like people.” Gaunga explains to Gizemeh, who responds with another nod. Confident that it shouldn't be a problem. He makes way for it tonight. 

[coffeeteaandmefantasy]

A new beggining

Ahh…

Where am I?

Before me were a gaudy hue of white and blue. Spherical and suffocating.

… ah… I reached out my hand limply towards the light.

I… haven’t even achieve anything yet…

So… unsatisfying…

Slowly my sight quivered to nothingness.

-----

“Dominic! Wake up! Or I’m cutting your pay!” A resolute knock resounded against the cold hard wood.

“Mmm... I’m up! I’m up! Sorry about that!”

Quickly, I got up and adorn my uniform. A simple Oxford shirt paired with a black vest and jeans.

Looking in the mirror, I’ve decided that I was at least presentable and gave my award-winning smile! It’s going to be another great day!

I hastened down the stairs, wore the store’s casual brown apron and began my morning routine. I wiped the counter and equipment’s and prepared the store for another day of service.

“Good Morning! What would you like today?”  

“Dominic! You look as handsome as ever today! I’ll have the usual.” An elderly woman teased.

“Madam, you’re too kind. Surely, I can’t beat your charisma!”  I teased back and tinkered with the machine by the counter. Soon, piping hot liquid flowed out gentle into a peculiar porcelain cup, filling the café with its calming aroma.

“Here’s your Cappuccino! Enjoy!” I placed the cup down on the table by the windowsill, the Madam always enjoyed reading here whilst looking out to the rose garden outside.

“Thank you.  How are you finding it here? It’s been a while since you’ve started.” She began casually.

“It’s been great! I’ve eased into the routine.” I gave an awkward laugh.

“That’s nice to hear. I still remember how flustered you were, like a baby deer beginning to walk.” She lifted her cup and took a sip, with her lips curved into a smile.

“Ha! He’s still a baby! His skills are still a thousand years near perfect!” A thunderous yet motherly voice came from the kitchen.

“Good Morning Manager!” I greeted cheerfully despite the remark.

“Morning? Sure, but it might not be good! You’ve forgotten to flip the sign again!” She said with a raised eyebrow, clearly sarcastic.

“Ah! I will do it now! Sorry Manager!” I sped to the door and noticed that the sign was already flipped to ‘Open’. I was momentarily confused before the manager continued.

“Last night.”

“Oh…” Ah… This was embarrassing. I weakly returned to my station at the counter. Emotionally defeated, I began to wipe down the unused cups.  

The Manager was an elder lady, plump and commanding and though her features portrayed her age, her attitude didn’t which gave the illusion of a young and strong woman. She was kind enough to take me in. I was grateful to her.

It’s been about three months since I’ve arrived here. 3 months… since I’ve died. It’s a sad topic, but I’ll say a little about it.

3 months ago, I drowned in a lake not far from here and died. That morning, I just couldn’t fall asleep and kept tossing and turning in bed. As a ditched attempt, I went out for a casual stroll in the fog-covered landscape. It was mid-winter, and despite the freezing temperature I went out with a simple coat. I supposed I was stressed about life, not that I remember much of it now. It was a blur, then I fell. Plummeted straight into the freezing water. I didn’t struggle, maybe it was a suicide attempt? I don’t really know. Not anymore.

When I woke up, I was surrounded by people I didn’t recognise. They muttered something and looked at me with worried gazes. But I knew that they weren’t worried about me, but what will happen because of me. I was a ‘mistake’. A ‘mistake’ like the rest of them. But an uncalculated ‘mistake’ unlike them.

‘Mistakes’ were those who were at the boundary of life and death. They died, but aren’t dead. Neither are they ‘alive’. We exist. Just that our existence was unexplained. Unscientific. And some say that we may never have existed at all. Just a mismatch of illusions. Magic? Perhaps.

We don’t remember our lives before we died. Cases like mine where I do remember some images were rare and almost unheard of. A mistake in a ‘mistake’. A sign for calamity.

Although I do remember images, I don’t have any attachments for them. Like a distorted silent movie, they play out. No context, no emotions, no sympathy nor empathy. Cut, jiggered, mismatched and not in any particular order. They are more of a burden than anything really. A mild annoyance.

“Dominic, go restock at Blake’s place later, and tell me if he has any special goods.” The Manager said in passing as she went to the kitchen to prepare the meals for the customers. A full English Breakfast.

“Yes!” I replied.

I tended to the customers for the morning until rush hour died down. There seemed to be more female customers lately. Most of them were wearing the uniform of the nearby prestigious High School. It was an accelerator school to a world renown University. Saint Veridian’s School of Mastery of the Arts. It was a peculiar name since they were more noted for their achievements in Science and Economics than the fine arts. I guess someone somewhere down the road messed up.

Packing up my things, I gave way to my colleague to manage my station.

“Hmm~ Good luck! Tell me if it goes well~” Gwen said as she nudged my waist with her elbow.

“Thank you. And I’ll pretend you didn’t say anything else.” I responded as coldly as I could.

“Blake’s a bit eccentric but not a bad guy! You’ve got to put more effort!! Invite him out or something!” She winked cheekily.

I sighed in exasperation. Ever since the time when I accidentally poured tea on him, I’m sure he would hate to see me! Not that I’d like to be reminded of that awkward moment! But somehow Gwen’s got the wrong idea! She thought I was coming on to him!

“Quick! What are you dawdling for! Go meet him!”

“For the last time, I wasn’t hitting on him!”

“But you did strip him!”

Wait, wait, wait!!! DON’T get the wrong idea! I can explain! I was flustered at the time! And I was worried that the tea had scalded him! So, I kindly helped him remove his clothing, and wiped him down with cold water! I was just doing what I should’ve! Like a normal person would!

“But you were blushing so cutely the whole time! You still blush when you see him!”

“T-that’s! From the fact that I felt bad about it!”

Yup! I’m still embarrassed because of how stupid I was! Stop shipping us! I beg of you! I am practically wailing inside. Please believe me!

“Yes, you should. You did strip him bare.”

I’m sorryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!! Stop reminding me!!! Stop killing my cool guy image!!! We are at work!!!!! Do YOUR work! I have to do MY work!!! What’s wrong with you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I’ll be going now!” I stopped responding to whatever she said and half-ran out.

Down the street and a few corners, I arrived at an inconspicuous store- Tea, Coffee, Etc. It was like the owner got tired of making a good name and just went with it. The font was even in Comic Sans. It blinded me every time I came here. It was too out of place.

I went into the store. Contrasting to the classic front and antique atmosphere. The inside was modern. Stunning wooden finish, stone walls, comfy carpeting, sofas, black steel, clear glass, peculiar lights… Like some sort of showroom for houses, except that tea and coffee were part of the interior design. The disparity is almost killing me. And the man of the hour is… nowhere to be seen.

“Blake…? Are you there? I came for the inventories!” I called out and casually walked towards the hidden door behind the counter. Modern designs love those.

“Mn.” A response came out from one of the rooms.

I went towards the sound. Why ‘Mn.’? Couldn’t he have said something more? Couldn’t blame him though. He must be so done with me…

I sighed and saw him experimenting with some herbs and potions. The inside was… a state-of-the-art chemistry lab. Just that he wasn’t wearing a lab coat but a casual Trenchcoat.

“…” That wasn’t what I meant when I said ‘at least wear a coat’ during experiments. But, oh well. It’s fine. I can deal with this.

Then a minor pink explosion came out from the conical flask he was holding. Bringing with it glitter and the shape of a magical unicorn and the words ‘Happy Birthday!’. It covered both of us in glitter and pink fluff.  

“Hm. Still needs adjustments.” Blake muttered.

Cough. I almost choked. Don’t. Don’t conduct cute experiments with that expressionless face!!!! I’m almost dying here!  

“Towel.” He gestured to the side rack and began to clean up.

“…Thank you.” I took one off the rack and wiped down, the towel was made with a special material that absorbs spirit herbs, so the fluff and glitter were quickly cleared away.

As he got closer, I handed a towel to him. He paused for a moment and stared at the towel in my arm for a moment before taking it.

“Thanks.”

What. What was that awkward pause? Are you picking a fight? What could I have done to a towel in less than a minute...Wait. Nope. Don’t answer that. Please don’t.

“ The inventories are over there.” He pointed to a messy counter.

Oh. We’re playing this game again huh. The understand what ‘there’ means game.

I just stared at the counter and decided. What the heck. Might as well tidy it up. So, I did that. I returned the mess into a non-mess. Like how it should’ve always been. It’s always like this. The room would be speck and clean and tidy except for ‘there’. Except. For. ‘There’. Have I said it enough? No? Except for ‘THERE’. He’s picking a fight. I can feel it. This revenge is way too petty!

Hmm?

“I don’t see it?” I turn around and asked. Were they misplaced?

“Ah?” He seemed confused too, before abruptly turning around across the room and pointed to another pile. It was bigger.

“Probably ‘there’.”

Can’t your ‘vengeance’ be any pettier? It’s been three months. Forgive me already!!!! I didn’t do it on purpose!!

I went to that pile and sorted that as well. See? I’m going to be a good, calm and collected person that is above you! Above. You!! Fight me!

After some rummaging and arranging, I found the pouch with the words ‘Invt.” on it. It was an abbreviation for inventories. It seems the person got lazy.

I opened it and checked the goods and counted them. Magical pouches like these could store hundreds of items. But the Manager prefers picking them up at regular intervals instead. Said that a variety of work keeps the employees less bored and thus more efficient. Also, it’d be good to keep good relations with others in our community.

“Alright, I’ve checked them. Should I transfer the funds here?”

He nodded and we both took out cards and tapped them together.

“Transfer complete!” A voice sounded out, and the amounts transferred was displayed on the cards. They were convenient. And chic way to transfer funds.  

“Oh right, my Manager asked if you have any new goods that you have?”

Blake nodded and led me to a corner with drawers with the label ‘Etc.’ Sometimes, I do feel like this place was a running joke gone cold.

He opened one and took out a pouch, and arranged the products out for me to see.

He then handed a virtual catalogue over, which I copied to my own device. The modern world is awesome like that.

Then he briefly demonstrated or explained some. There were household items, machines and all sorts of stuff even transportation talismans.

Oh, by brief. I meant brief.

He pointed to a magical faucet and said, “Dragon’s lake, cleaner.”

Then to a transportation talisman and said, “More places, faster.”

Even the catalogue wasn’t any better. It was more detailed but… I guess this saves time.

I was a bit bored. And leaned back as he explained. Then I felt something pushed me. Startled, I fell forward.

In order to steady myself, my hands slammed onto the table to hold up my weight.

“Shit.”

Ah? He cussed? Blake had never cussed before. I mean, he doesn’t say much but-

A bright light soon engulfed us and warped the space with it.

“….”

Shit.