#I truly do appreciate people asking - It is *extremely* flattering that you like my art enough to want to commission something!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hello! I was wondering if you’d be willing to take commissions someday 👀. No pressure tho! I just love your art so much

The short answer: "not at the moment, but it is very possible in the future'!

The slightly longer answer: I would have to figure out a good pricing and payment system! PD-MDZS is also where most of my free time goes, so until my life settles down a bit, I would be on the slow side to complete them.

[taegularities]

hi lovely rid! 

maybe it's because i've always been moved by art in general and the feelings a painting can convey; or maybe it's because of cmi... idk, but to me your trademark is art? or maybe watercolour? 

now let me explain myself, you know how when you paint something you need to mix the colours, find the right hue and with them create different figures and things? i feel like in one way or another you craft your words and create amazing stories that can move people just like art does

i honestly don't know if any of this makes any sense, i always get too intense when people ask these kind of things LOL

love you lots <3

-lidia

you're comparing my stuff to art? lidia, i will smooch 🥹 your explanation absolutely makes sense!! and it went straight to my heart. whether it's because of cmi or how inspiring art is to you in general, i'm so extremely flattered and honoured. thank you so much for being here, loving my stuff and supporting me the way you do. and truly, this series really made me appreciate the colours and their meaning, too.. after all, the world's a canvas, isn't it 🤍

—

what's my trademark? <3

[dragonboi2000]

Hey!

I just wanted to say that I am absolutely obsessed with your art, you are insanely talented!

I don't mean this to sound rude, but can I ask why you do so much fan art? Your original works are by far your best stuff, I genuinely want to see so much more of it! Seeing you draw masterpieces worthy of the Lourve and then just some Marvel guy is honestly really funny, it's like watching Michelangelo draw South Park characters 🤣🤣

Hello, anon!

First off, I just want to start by saying I genuinely do appreciate your compliments, and I'm actually insanely flattered that you obviously love my original work so much.

To answer your question though, drawing my original work often takes a lot out of me. My work is extremely personal and between that and certain physical limitations, I am simply just not capable of doing intense, detailed, and wholly original work all the time. Sometimes I just want to draw gay porn of my favorite supervillain, I have a lot of fun doing it and fanart has always been one of my favorite hobbies, it really isn't any deeper than that lol.

Also, to be perfectly blunt, compare the notes I get on any piece of my original work:

Vs. The notes I get on my fanworks:

Seeing as being a freelance artist is one of my few means of income, exposure like that is quite literally how I end up putting food on my table. I truly aspire to be able to support myself on original work alone, but people on Tumblr just. Really do not like interacting with original work a lot of the time.

In the meantime though, I hope you at least enjoy the fanworks while waiting for more original stuff, thank you again for the lovely compliments 🐉💚

[indiaalphawhiskey]

I respectfully disagree with your last post (as an author). I’ve been in this fandom for 6 years and noticed it’s a little bit toxic when it comes to certain issues that should be normal and obvious to anyone.

I don’t get the “I choose the people I want to take criticism from” part. Ok, so why posting your work on a public page for independent writers where every subscriber will be able to read it and comment on it? Just send it to the people whose opinion matters to you and have a discussion about your work with them. If you post your work on a public page made specifically for independent writers, you are automatically posting it for everyone on that site. And every person has opinions on things and feels invited to express it if that particular thing is public and comments are open (I’m talking about respectful opinions, not slurs and offending someone).

If it was only for you and the people you actually want to get feedback from then wouldn’t it be easier to create an “élite” group where you read your work and then discuss it together? Because your post sends a very negative and exclusionary message to people that are reading your work for the first time or without knowing you as an author. It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.” Then don’t post it. But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post. And constructive criticism is just an opinion too as long as it doesn’t contain vulgarities, you don’t have to listen to it. Other’s opinion shouldn’t change the way you feel about your work but you also shouldn’t make them feel uncomfortable and bad for expressing it in a respectful way on a public page.

I know that authors on AO3 aren’t paid and that’s just for fun, but that’s what every page like AO3 is about: putting your work out there for other people to read with the possibility to express their personal opinion in a respectful way (I mean, you CAN disable the comments). Why making it public and then complaining and making other people feel bad for expressing their opinion on it? It’s not a diary or a personal Instagram profile.

So, first off, thank you for saying you respectfully disagree with me. I appreciate that you’re trying to be polite. 

There are many different ways I can answer this ask, because there’s a lot to discuss here, however, I’m exhausted by this conversation and have tackled it many times before, so I’ll link things when I see fit and get straight to the point.

My question for you is this: What is the purpose of you posting negative  (even though well-worded, polite, and tactful) unsolicited comments on a person’s fanfic? Why do you do it?

That’s not a rhetorical question, I really want you to think about the answer, because, for something to be called “constructive criticism” (which is specifically what we’re discussing here, versus the opposite “destructive” criticism) there has to be a point beyond just the fact that “it’s a public forum” and therefore, you feel entitled to express your opinion, whatever it may be. (That reasoning, btw, is called entitlement. No one said you weren’t allowed to have an opinion, but if you’re saying it to the author with no constructive, bettering purpose behind it, then at worst, your intent is to hurt them, which is just mean, no matter how politely you word it, and at best, you’re saying your opinions and preference take precedent over the author’s own.)

There are three reasons that I assume one can have when posting constructive criticism on work/art:

1. You want to help make them be a better writer, both now and in the future. 

I, and other fellow authors, explain why this doesn’t work here and here, and there are more posts about it like this one, if you need to hear it from voices that are not from the Larry fandom (which I assume you do, since you said this is a little bit toxic here particularly.) 

I encourage you to read all those posts, to get a better explanation in context, but the gist of them is this: for something to be truly constructive (synonym: helpful), the source, the timing, and the tact is key. Let me demonstrate: There is a difference between telling a friend while shopping, “I wouldn’t buy that dress, it’s not the most flattering on you,” and saying, while you’re out at a club, “Oh, that dress isn’t the most flattering on you, I wouldn’t wear it again.” -- Both are honest, worded politely, and both will achieve the same outcome: she will not wear the dress again -- but only one of them will cause undue stress, embarrassment, and self-consciousness (under the guise of being helpful), and that is all due to tact and timing. At the store, she can change into something else, and won’t assume you think she looks awful the entire day while you’re out. At the club, the damage is done, there is nothing she can do to change it, and you’ve just ruined her night.

The same goes for writing. I have seen people gracefully and willingly rewrite their entire first drafts based on astute and even harsh comments on their work, by their betas. I have never seen someone take down a fic and edit it based on a piece of constructive criticism given by a stranger on AO3. What I have seen based on that scenario, is people taking that criticism to heart and reflecting on whether or not they ever want to write again, because when they made themselves vulnerable, some people looked at it as an opportunity to ask for what would cater best to their own tastes, instead of appreciating the work as a true product of the author’s personal feelings and experiences. That results in less writers for the fandom, less content, and a whole lot of undue discouragement which is not something we want (nor is it actually constructive).

2. You want to engage the author in a deeper discussion of their work.

This is in direct answer to this part of your ask:

It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.”

You feel passionate (both positively and negatively) about my work? That’s lovely. I say, start a discussion with me. Ask me questions. Learn why I made those decisions. A discussion starts with an invitation to have a conversation (two ways, you say something, I say something, rinse repeat). It doesn’t start with “I didn’t like” or “This could have been better if”, and it certainly doesn’t start in a public forum, like the comments on AO3, where the writer runs the risk of looking like a defensive asshole. 

But India, you say, what if I don’t have the means to have a private conversation/the writer doesn’t have tumblr/they’ve long since been inactive in the fandom? The answers are, respectively: leave a polite comment asking if they’re willing to discuss, if they are willing to discuss, leave a polite comment asking how to contact them, and if they’re no longer active, find other friends with which to discuss your feelings in private.

But India, that seems like so much work. It is, flat out. But if you really felt that strongly about something I wrote, you would make that effort to understand it. Otherwise, why not just walk away?

3. You don’t know better.

I found this part of your ask extremely interesting:

“But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post.”

The reason I found it interesting is because it means that there are people who assume that all work that is public was made for them, to suit their tastes, which is, frankly, a bizarre way to consume art. I do not go into The Louvre, look at the Mona Lisa and say “I don’t see the hype, it’s not something I would hang in my living room.” I look at it and think “What does this piece say about Da Vinci and his life? What has this brought to the world? How has this helped people/art/culture?”

(No, I am in no way comparing my talents to Da Vinci, I am not delusional. But, I don’t think my work deserves any less thought than that of a professional artist, simply because I’m an amateur and it’s on the internet and not in a gallery, and you have the superpower of anonymity.) You asked me what the point was in posting my work publicly if I didn’t want to hear every single person’s personal (negative) take on it, and the answer is this: I post what I write publicly, because I hope it helps someone. I hope my thoughts, feelings, experiences, loneliness validate someone, entertain them, help them through a tough time, bring them comfort. I post because I want to invite people to lose themselves alongside me, heal alongside me, dream alongside me. 

(Notice how I said “someone” and not “everyone”. How I said “someone” and not “an élite group that discusses my work”, because yes, I do hope that my work positively impacts someone outside of my betas, my friend group. Does that mean someone can leave negative comments on my work? Yes. But should they? That’s a different question.)

I know my work won’t be a positive experience for every single person, but my goal was never to be relevant to every single person. So, my question is, if I’m not relevant to you personally -- if my work doesn’t touch you personally, heal you personally, entertain you personally, why not just walk away and find something that does? Who does your negative opinion really help? How is it constructive? What is its purpose? Why do you do it?

I will apologize for this, though: I spoke on behalf of all writers, and maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have been clear that though many writers feel this way, not all do. There are some, such as, I assume, yourself, who do view negative comments on AO3 as constructive, whether or not they are solicited, and I’m sorry to have spoken on behalf of you. However, I do still stand by this, though: it is much better to be kind than be right, and that definitely goes for comments on fic.

[musette22]

hey, it's the anon that sent in the thing abt rpf being iffy. i understand your points, and i don't have a huge problem with it if it stays in fandom spaces. i think my issue just comes from my own stance that celebrities deserve to not have their private lives speculated or written abt, even if it is just a fantasy. but i don't think you're necessarily being immoral or wrong, and i know that the speculating and writing abt celebrities is so widespread now that it probably won't stop. i sometimes just feel bad for the people that might feel violated by it. and, for the record, i also rlly don't like the "self-shipping" with celebrities either, as it seems pretty invasive. also, someone replied to my ask that you answered saying that i probably just don't like that you ship two men rather than a man and a woman, and that is absolutely not true, i'm a lesbian lmao. anyways, i just thought it was worth it to clear a couple things up. i hope you have a good day!! <3

Hi, thanks for sending another messages and clarifying a few things, I appreciate it! I also appreciate your stance about the private lives of celebrities and I do understand where you're coming from. Just for the record; you explained your issue well in your first ask and there was nothing that made me think you had a problem with same sex shipping!

The way I see it, most celebrities more or less willingly renounce some of their privacy just by becoming a celebrity - I'd even say that's inherent in the concept of celebrity/fame. Off the top of my head, I can't think of anyone, at least not in the entertainment industry, who is famed merely for their art or profession, and has never talked about their personal life or thoughts publicly (whether in interviews, at fan meetings, in their songs, etc.). If you're famous, people will know certain things about you, unless you try really hard to keep your private life completely private, but even then idk if that could ever be achieved. Of course, no one is entitled to know anything about celebrities - it all depends on what and how much they want to share with the public. And if they want to share some things and keep other things private, that's their prerogative and we should respect their boundaries in that regard. I would never demand (or even ask) information about a celebrity's family, relationship status or sexual preferences, for instance, if they didn't volunteer that information themselves.

But I can't imagine celebrity culture without a certain amount of fascination with and/or lusting after said celebrities, whether by their fans or the general public. I don't think it's possible to separate the two completely. So I don't think it's wrong or weird to privately think/speculate about their private lives, as long as you observe certain hard boundaries, which I've explained in reply to your previous ask.

If I'm not mistaken, the self-shipping you mention sounds like reader insert fic? If so, I wasn't even necessarily talking about that tbh, I just meant like, when you're on a train and you start daydreaming about meeting your favourite celebrity and what they'd say to you and how they'd fall in love with you and how they might kiss you etc. etc. That's something I think a lot of people (not everyone, but a lot, especially people who are 'fans', with more than a casual interest in a celebrity) have done at some point in their lives. And I don't really see how that's different from putting it down on paper, as long as you make sure the celebs never get to see it, just as they'll never see the thoughts in your head.

Basically, what happens in both cases is we put words in their mouths and make them do things in our imagination - in a way, they're almost just as much characters as fictional characters are, because at the end of the day, we don't truly know these people, and we certainly can't control them. I don't know if you saw what someone else in the notes of the other ask said as well, about Sir Ian McKellan? @misspluckyplum said that "Ian McKellen was asked on his website what he thought about 'real person slash'. He remarked, and I'm paraphrasing here, that those who were writing RPS didn't know the real him, therefore weren't depicting the real him, so how could he begrudge creative expression that had nothing to do with him anyways?"

That's how I personally see it as well. I met Sebastian once, and it was acutely clear to me that he was a stranger. Sure, I know a lot about him, but that's not the same as knowing him personally. The things I know about him are what I use to write my stories, but what I inevitably end up with is a character of my own making with lots of personal projection, sprinkled with some real life facts and mannerisms of actual people bearing the same name as my characters. I do see how that could entail a risk of objectification/sexualization, but I personally fantasize just as much if not more about these guys shyly confessing their feelings, holding hands, and raising babies together as I do about them having sex. For me, it's really much more about creative expression, and an outlet for personal romantic feelings, thoughts and desires, than it is about me wanting to completely know or - god forbid - control Chris or Sebastian or have a say in their lives.

I know you also mentioned that you would be weirded out if you knew people were shipping you with a friend of yours, and I understand what you mean. Some people will think it's extremely strange and invasive and it would be especially strange and invasive if you're a non-famous person. But like I said, by far the majority of celebrities will be aware that they've signed off some of their privacy in becoming famous. A few of them clearly hate that (which I think should be respected as much as possible) and some may be more protective over their personal lives than others, but generally speaking, I think if you habitually agree to do photoshoots, interviews and public performances or events, you're used to, and to certain extent even okay with, people being fascinated by you and wanting you/wanting you do do things.

Moreover, I've also heard about quite a few celebs who have endorsed or encouraged RPF shipping because they think it's fun or flattering, so in the end I think it depends on the person whether they'd consider RPF shipping invasive or not. I personally would not mind at all if I were famous and people would write stories about me and my best friend falling in love if that brought them comfort or happiness for some reason, as long as I didn't have to read the stories and people would not harass either of us about it. But again, that's a personal stance, and of course we can't know who is or isn't okay with it, unless they tell us. If they do know and they hate it, and they tell their fans to stop, I would of course respect their wishes in a heartbeat. But until then, I think it's okay to operate on the assumption that "what they don't know can't hurt them", especially if it's coming from a place of love and respect.

Sorry this got so long, it's just something I have a lot of thoughts and feeling about! I hope you have a lovely day as well! <3

[deathisanartmetzli]

Two for One || Bex & Metzli

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @inbextween @deathisanartmetzli​

SUMMARY: Metzli gets more than just a donation from Bex, and they really don’t like it.

CONTAINS: TW- Mentions of Child Death, Mentions of Parental Death, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Homophobia and Transphobia, Vampire Compelling-

It wasn’t technically nerves that coursed through Bex as the uber pulled up to the art gallery, but there was a sense of excitement tingeing her cheeks. On Bex, it could have easily been mistaken for anxiety or nerves, as she stared wide-eyed up at the sign above the doors. There were so many things she didn’t know about White Crest and it’s people, and she found herself almost desperate to know them. Desperate to know the world she was always supposed to be part of. Anyone who offered even a morsel of that was on her list of people to talk to, to befriend, to know. Metzli was at the top of the list, if only because they hadn’t beat around the bush with anything, and Bex appreciated the candor. As well as the shmoozing. It wasn’t necessary, she’d write them a check for whatever amount they wanted, but it was still...flattering. She was still letting herself get used to being okay with being openly out, and it felt nice, she supposed, to be seen in that way. Not that she needed it! Mina was more than enough, and Bex wasn’t that daft (though she still was holding out hope that maybe Metzli was just being nice, maybe they were just trying to butter her up and just wanted to be her friend), but as she always did, she wanted to give them a chance, first. She couldn’t help it, it was as much a flaw as it was a strength. She supposed it was only a matter of time before it bit her in the ass, but she was really hoping that wouldn’t be the case here.

Pushing the front door open, Bex glanced up as the bell chimed to announce her arrival. It was quiet inside, no one else was really around, and she was grateful for that-- she still had a hard time in crowds, fearing the magic that pulsed beneath her fingers, and what harm it could do to people. But Metzli was a vampire, and her magic was mostly harmless against the undead. Which, again, both good and bad. Sai hadn’t taught her any barrier spells yet, so she really had no way to defend herself, other than the can of mace she always carried in her purse. It was a last resort only, though.

Bex perked up when she heard footsteps approaching and grinned, smoothing down the fringes of her dress. “Hi! It’s-- you’re Metzli, right? It’s me. Bex. But you probably already figured that out. Sorry. I’m much better at talking online.” Held her hand out. “It’s nice to finally meet you for, like, real!”

The prospect of meeting Bex in person was one that Metzli looked forward to greatly. Not only was she going to donate to the gallery, but she was a possible fun friend to get…close to. Needless to say, when Bex walked through the door, the vampire was excited, no, tantalizingly thrilled. “Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bex.” They took Bex’s hand, their hand firm and extremely cold. Acting on their dated customs, they bowed and laid a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. Their smile was one that could win the hearts of most, and could melt even the coldest of them.

Metzli always wore suits to the gallery, but chose the best ones this week in anticipation of this meeting. Today they sported a blue suit with a plaid pattern, a black tie, and black dress shoes to complete the ensemble. Trying to “put their best foot forward,” if you will. “You’re certainly an energetic one. I like that.” Their smile grew wider, not too wide as to cause alarm, but enough to make the warmth grow. “Welcome to my gallery,” Arms extended as they gestured to the open building. “Would you like anything to drink before I give you the tour? Water, wine?” They asked, adjusting the cuffs of their shirt.

“I keep an assortment of reds, but I have some sparkling whites if you prefer,” Metzli continued, trying to be the best host possible. Though Bex did say she would donate regardless, the vampire had to put on a show.

Bex had eyes, good eye sight at that, and they stuck on Metzli’s form as they approached, on the rather suave suit they were wearing, and she felt her inside begin to vibrate. Maybe this was a bad idea. This could go bad very quickly. Really, all she had to do to solve her problem was tell Metzli she had a girlfriend, but how was she supposed to insert that into casual conversation? And why was it that the words still stuck in her throat? She glanced around the gallery again and found it still empty and wondered how long it would take her mind-- and her body-- to stop sending alarms to run away when confronted publicly with her queerness. But it was just...looking. Nothing would happen. She could look. And so she looked.

“Oh, well, don’t get too excited. Sometimes my energy can be a lot. I don’t shut up half the time and then most of the time I don’t even realize I’m not shutting up or talking too much. It’s really kind of a drag. Blessing and a curse? It’s-- see? I’m kind of already doing it.” She took Metzli’s hand to shut herself up and felt a chill run up her arm, into her spine. They felt like Morgan’s hands, cool, soft, but where Morgan’s grip was always gentle, Metzli’s was firm. The swift kiss to the back of her hand just as cold, despite the warmth now in her cheeks. “I-I’m okay right now! Why don’t we just save the drinking for later?”

Her dress-- a nice dress, but certainly not her nicest-- was a blue number, with a floral pattern and frilly, short sleeves. She liked to dress up nice-- an old habit she didn’t really know how to break-- but now she was wondering if, maybe, a more casual outfit would’ve been a better idea. “So how long have you been doing art? Did you own a gallery before this? Where did you live before this?”

Metzli could always tell when they were being checked out, which was often. Confidence emanated from them as they ogled back, a little more subtly. The way Bex stuttered only made them feel empowered, like they had her right where they wanted her. It was something they enjoyed a lot, maybe too much. “As you wish, cariña.” They replied flirtatiously and motioned for her to follow them.

“Please, follow me. I’ll answer your questions along the way as I lead you through the current showings, and maybe if you want, I can show you…the secret gallery. But that’ll have to wait until the end.” Metzli guided Bex down a hallway that led to a large, open room filled with sculptures and paintings. “In this section, I have a collection of works by local artists. Several of which were donated, and many others purchased right from the artists themselves. And if you look in the back corner, you’ll see my most recent painting.” A large painting of a decaying crow was on display. So far it had received much praise and was one of their favorites as of yet.

“As for your current questions, I’ve been practicing art, painting in particular, for about 90 years. After roaming for a bit once I left my clan, I decided to open my first gallery, this very one. I traveled all the way from Jalisco, Mexico. I resided there until I heard of White Crest. It took a while, but I finally made it here. Word travels far when it comes to special places.”

It was just Metzli being nice, Bex told herself. Obviously that’s all it was. They were just being nice because people could just be nice without any ulterior motive. Bex truly believed that. She really wanted to believe that right now. She could convince herself of that. Why would anyone want to flirt with her anyway? Especially a vampire who owned their own art gallery and had probably seen so much in the world. Someone like Bex wasn’t worth that time or effort. They were just being nice because Bex was donating to their gallery, that was all. Surely that was all.

She followed behind Metzli and stepped into the large room that displayed, as they explained it, the local works. Her gaze traced across all the different pieces on display, mouth slightly agape. She hadn’t known there were so many talented people right here in White Crest, but, really, what did she know about White Crest? Not much. It had been stolen from her. She was drawn towards a sculpture in the middle, of some sort of nightmarish, amorphous creature. Her eyes skated over the piece and she longed to reach out and touch it, but held herself back, looking up again when Metzli pointed out their own work.

“Oh, you painted that one!?” She moved quickly towards it, drawn in by the glowing red eye of the crow. It looked half dead, perhaps decaying, encompassing the canvas, and Bex stared at it in wonder. She’d always wished her hands were disciplined enough to put down onto paper what was in her mind, her dreams. Drawing maps of made-up worlds hardly counted. She glanced back over at Metzli, realizing how close she’d gotten to the painting and stepped away. “It’s beautiful.”

Bex had almost forgotten Metzli’s undead-ness, and balked for only a moment when they announced they’d been at this for ninety years. Her grandmother wasn’t even that old. Hands skated over the ridges of the painting, only touching the air in front of it as if she were a ghost. “What did you do before, then?” Looked back over at Metzli, eyes wide with wonder. “Ninety years is a long time. I can’t even imagine being alive for that long, let alone practicing something for all that time…”

Metzli watched as Bex marveled at their painting. Their skill always did a number on women. It was one of the many benefits of honing it. “Before? Oh, well…I didn’t do much of anything besides what my master commanded. Going into those details is not something I will do, though.” Their arms rested behind their back as they spoke, and their voice took on a more serious tone. Memories of that time flooded their mind, making them squeeze their eyes shut to push them away.

Once their eyes opened again, they slapped a smile on their face and turned to face the other pieces in the gallery. “Thank you for your praise. It’s always a pleasure to see my art taken so well.” Metzli continued walking away, motioning Bex once again to follow them. “Next I’ll show you the works I’ve collected nationwide, and even internationally. The collection is smaller, but still striking.”

They felt a little off. The flashes of memories long past made their facade wane slightly and they used the short walk to collect themselves. Showing the gallery to Bex was supposed to be an easy way to get money and possibly a fun time for the night. It was not supposed to make them feel any sort of way. Especially not sad. Lucky for Metzli, the moment of sorrow quickly passed and they moved on. “Do you have any further questions?”

Bex drew her brows in concern, worried she might’ve said something that upset Metzli. She had never been any good at telling people’s emotions from their faces, but the one thing she could recognize aside from anger-- perhaps even more so than-- was sorrow. It passed briefly over Metzli’s face and Bex turned her gaze away, pretending to have not seen it at all. Sorrow was something felt in solitude. It didn’t need to be looked at the way art was. She shifted her gaze back up when Metzli spoke up again, and Bex moved away from the painting and towards them. “It’s incredible,” she said again, stealing one more glance at it before they exited the room. “You’re incredible.”

As they walked, Bex wondered. She couldn’t help it. Her mind raced away with thoughts all the time, and Metzli’s words were making trails through her mind like a flood. Their master, whatever that meant, had made them do things. Probably things they hadn’t wanted to do, from the sound of it. Bex could understand that. Maybe too closely. Her parents had controlled everything about her life, so much to the point that the freedom she now enjoyed felt wrong. She didn’t know what to do with it. She blinked from her thoughts when Metzli spoke up again and found herself in a new room. “Oh, um-- you mentioned that you do, like, community stuff. Art classes. What kind of classes are they? And how often? Do you do them here? If you need a bigger space, I could probably give you the money for that. And supplies. Really, just, whatever you might need. I think a place like this is worth investing in.” She smiled, gently, sweetly. Her father would’ve called this a waste and her mother would have scolded her, but they weren’t around anymore, and even if Bex didn’t know how to feel about her new found freedom, she wasn't going to waste it.

Bex’s comment didn’t go unheard, but with their ego, they were just going to gloss over it so they wouldn’t blow their cover. “Oh, the art classes are held in these two rooms.” Metzli trotted over to two doors next to each other. “Currently only one is being used for now. I’m setting up the other for sculpture classes. Everything has been purchased out of my own pocket, so it’s taking longer than I’d like. But, the painting classes are held every Tuesday and Thursday. Rookies on Tuesday’s and Novices on Thursday’s. With your donation I’ll be able to hire a sculpting teacher and continue to purchase the supplies necessary.”

The excitement in Metzli’s voice surprised them. Crest Works Art was their pride and joy. It was their dream to use art to heal, only themselves and maybe a few others inadvertently, but that was something for them to know, not anyone else. “I was honestly only expecting a donation of five grand, which is more than enough.” The truth of the matter was that they were lowballing in hopes of getting more. The money would help the gallery but the leftovers would go to them. But the more they discussed the matter, the more they wanted it for the gallery. What the hell was going on?

“Whatever you see best though, is just fine. It would be an honor to take a donation from Miss Not-So-Fragile.” Metzli referenced an earlier message the two shared, clearly turning on their charm again. It was an attempt to get back in the zone, get back to what they were supposed to be doing. Which was not getting lost in pointless emotions.

“Out of your own pocket? Wow, you must really love this place,” Bex sighed, a bit of a dreamy tone to her voice as she did. She reached out and slid her fingers along the cool wall, between two of the paintings. Sometimes, she liked to believe she could feel the energy in the world, she was supposed to be able to, as a spellcaster. When she was outside, she could swear she could hear the thrum of the earth, as energy flowed through it, like invisible rivers. It was in everything. She wished she could feel that all the time, like the moonlight with Sai, and the warmth with Mina. “White Crest is lucky to have you here,” she said again, smiling.

“Oh, only five-thousand?” Bex didn’t really know how much was a good donation amount, but in the end, she’d decided she didn’t really care. If it meant keeping a place like this open and running, she’d give whatever. If she could be the person helping someone achieve their dream, then of course she would help them. She turned away from the wall and headed towards Metzli again, in the middle of the room. She chuckled, hiding her face behind her hand for a moment. “You know you don’t have to keep buttering me up,” she stated, pulling her wallet out, “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t like you or didn’t want to do this.” Because she had the ability to choose to do that now. No one to tell her how to live her life. “How’s 50k?”

“It’s not buttering up if I’m enjoying it.” The way Bex just didn’t see how Metzli was laying it on super thick with the flirting was astounding. Completely baffled, they chuckled and were going to continue to flirt when Bex gave her offer. 50k? 50k? They were expecting a higher amount than five thousand, but that? “Holy shit,” was all that was muttered in that moment. “A-are you sure?!”

Metzli didn’t mean to be so loud, but the plan had gone well, too well in fact. Sure they were confident, but it never got them something of this magnitude. “Sorry, sorry. Just wasn’t expecting that.” They chuckled out of pure disbelief. Fooling Bex had obviously paid off, but it was much more than that now. Having a donation of that amount meant they could do more than just the few things they mentioned. This could be the breakthrough the gallery needed to be as successful as they had dreamed. Their master, just like Bex’s parents had no hold on her, had no hold on them. Not anymore.

For a moment, the facade fell again, and actual gratitude showed on Metzli’s face. Bowing like before, they took Bex’s hand and pressed another kiss to the back of her hand. This time though, their hold was gentle, maybe even hinging on being soft. “Thank you, Bex.”

That look right there was what Bex cared about the most. Through the astonishment, it was the look of hope that made Bex’s heart soar. She wanted to give people hope. Hope that they could finally have something good. It was like she’d told Bly-- hope was never bad, it couldn’t be, by nature. Bex wanted to truly believe that. She did. It was nice, too, to watch Metzli trip over their words and stutter, instead of her. She was usually so bad at talking, but something about this place had rendered Bex relatively quiet as she observed the space around her. The paintings, the sculptures, the pictures. They were worth investing in, they were worth giving back to. “I’m sure,” she answered, smiling. She scribbled on the check, before tearing one out and handing it to Metzli. “I really hate saying this, but that’s barely even a dent in the wallet. Like I told you, no one needs this much money. I’d give you more if I didn’t think you’d pass out, or the government wouldn’t try and take it all for taxes.”

Bex wasn’t expecting another bow, and she stayed frozen a moment as Metzli leaned down to kiss the back of her hand again. It felt somehow gentler this time. She felt her face flush and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, chuckling nervously. “Y-you don’t have to thank me! Honest. I’m not doing this for the thanks. I just want to give back to the community and the town and-- and people. People who deserve it.” This was just what people did, right? This was just being nice. People had different customs, was all. “I-- I do expect special treatment when I show up to the beginner painting classes, though.”

And just like that, Metzli knew they had done it again. Another successful event that flustered the naive woman. That was what they were trying to twist it into at least. Gratitude filled their cold heart, but they were determined to believe this was all according to their plan to seduce a millionaire. “Special treatment for you? You’ll get that any time, anywhere, cariña.” A flair of their accent came through and they cleared their throat to breeze past it.

Taking the check, they eyed it with amazement before pocketing it into the inside of their suit jacket. “Maybe we can leave the secret gallery for another time. After such a gracious donation, I believe I’d like to celebrate with a drink. What do you say? The Bloody Stake is calling to us.” Metzli’s charm was subtle and had an air about it that made people want to listen, want to do what they said. Or was that just their compelling? No, that wasn’t it, not now. That was for very special occasions. This was just their natural personality.

Metzli just hoped their luck continued into the night. Having a woman like Bex at their disposal would prove to be beneficial. They’d have to monitor how they approached everything. A one night stand may not be in the cards if Bex was as sweet as she appeared to be. Not to mention that could ruin any chance of them reaping the benefits of having Bex on their side.

Bex stared for a long moment, pretending that the word was just a common thing people from Mexico said. It was just like when people called her sweetheart or darling. That was all. The heat in her cheeks was just from her anxiety, she was always anxious, Morgan said she needed medication for her anxiety. So, clearly, it was just that. She heard the tint of Metzli’s accent and wondered why they tried to cover it up, but didn’t want to ask.

“You know, I’m only a little worried about what might be in this secret gallery,” she finally said, clearing her throat, “more so curious, though. But-- you know, drinks sound nice, too. I could do drinks.” Metzli was smooth, Bex had to admit it, but she was still clinging to the idea that this was just two people getting drinks and nothing more. Like they said, they just wanted to celebrate. Bex could get on board with that, and the idea of drowning the stupid thoughts in her head about her mother for just one night was the most compelling part of it all. But there was also just something...compelling about Metzli, that made Bex want to just say yes and follow them and ignore the alarms going off in her head. They were stupid alarms and she wanted to stop listening to them. She was free now, she could do what she wanted.

After a moment, once the check was tucked safely away, Bex curtsied slightly as she motioned towards the door. “Shall we? Is it close enough to walk?”

The crimson on Bex’s cheeks was noticeable on visual alone, but Metzli heard the rush of blood after her heartbeat picked up. With a bright smile, they walked over to a light switch, and turned it off. Upon this action, a blue light was activated, subtly revealing a door. Due to the light from the windows and other fixtures, it was a little hard to see. “The secret gallery is right behind this door. There’s nothing to worry about, though. Many protective measures have been taken so that the cursed works stay put. Maybe after drinks, we can come here and I can show you.”

As instantly as the door appeared, it disappeared just the same with another flick of the switch. “The bar isn’t walking distance, but I have a car that I can drive us in, if you’re comfortable enough. It’s the black Mercedes out front.” Metzli said, using a tone as smooth and sweet as saccharine. Clasping their arms behind their back, they guided Bex back to the front so they could get to their office. “Give me a moment so I can dress down a little.”

Metzli faded into their office for a moment, removing their tie and suit jacket, and unbuttoning their shirt to their sternum. It revealed a portion of their clan tattoo, a custom ankh with three strikes through it. A tattoo they were ashamed of, but figured there was no use hiding it. With a shrug, all the lights were shut off and they exited their office. “Have you decided whether or not you’ll ride with me, Miss Not-So-Fragile?”

Bex felt that insatiable tug of curiosity again when the lights flickered out. Her heartbeat quickened even more as she looked at the door, now illuminated in blue light-- even took a step towards it-- before the lights were turned back on and Metzli was ushering her back towards the front. “Cursed!?” she asked, brows raising. She wanted to see those, she definitely wanted to see those. She wanted to know if they felt like magic, if she could sense the magic infused in them. She wondered what kind of curses they were. She wondered who put them on them. There was so much she wanted to know.

Instead, she stood and waited patiently while Metzli changed, her eyes flicking back and forth between the office door they’d disappeared behind, and the hallway that led to the room with the secret door. She perked back up when Metzli returned and beamed a smile. “Well, considering I didn’t drive here, I think that might be the best idea.” She didn’t need to mention that she couldn’t drive, and a small part of her worried how she might be getting home later, but a bigger part of her just didn’t care. Maybe the walk would be nice. She headed towards the door, motioning towards Metzli, hands clasped together as she leaned back against the door, hearing the little bell chime once again when it opened slightly. She glanced one more time towards where the secret door was. “Ready?”

“Ready indeed,” Metzli said, following Bex out the door, and promptly locking it. The alarm was set and they were good to go. As per usual, they opened the passenger door for Bex. It was another dated custom, but it always did well with the female population. “Your chariot awaits,” They joked, and went on to the driver’s side once Bex was set up.

Metzli never bothered with a seatbelt, there was no point. The only thing that could hurt them right now was that damn sun, but they would be rid of that monstrosity in a matter of minutes. Turning over the engine, they shifted the car into drive, and began the commute to the bar. “We’re not too far by car, so we’ll be there soon.” A smile spread over their lips as they moved their hand towards Bex’s thigh, no, the gear shift actually. With a flick of their wrist, the gears changed and the car sped closer to their destination.

Just like they said, the two arrived quickly and Metzli winced at the exposure to the sun again. “Let’s get in quickly. The sun…stings.” Thanks to the time of day, which was 5pm, the toxic sphere would linger for a few hours more. But soon they’d be greeted with a dark room and the perfect drinks, with a woman they had just taken 50k from. Happily, they gently pressed their hand to the small of Bex’s back and guided her towards the door.

It was just polite, really, for someone to open the door for her, right? Bex slid into the car, just as suave and nice as she thought someone like Metzli might own, and folded her hands into her lap, adjusting the edge of her dress to rest over her thigh. She swallowed. This was fine, it was just someone taking her for a drink, it didn’t have to be anything more than that. She kept telling herself that. She would never do anything to be unfaithful to Mina, she loved Mina, this wasn’t anything like that. After all, all Bex wanted was a friend.

She kept her eyes on the road, barely noticed Metzli’s hand moving towards her, as she tried to keep her mind calm. It kept going back to that secret room, or to the way Metzli looked at her, or to Mina back home, still frightened over the warden. Or to her mom. They were all things she wanted to forget about for tonight. She just wanted one night where she didn’t have to think about anything stressful, anything painful, anything hard. Finally, the car pulled up and Bex felt her body loosen, not even realizing how tense she’d become.

She slipped from the car and adjusted herself again, feeling a shiver run up her back when Metzli’s hand came to rest on it. She shuffled slightly, but didn’t move away, instead moving quickly towards the door and slipping inside. Metzli’s chivalry was a little old-fashioned, but that was what Bex had grown up with. The inside of the bar was dark, and red-- a lot of red. Bex glanced around, as eyes turned on her. They could smell her, she realized, her humanness. Could they smell her magic, too? She looked back at Metzli. “Where uh-- where should we sit?”

The effect Metzli was having on Bex was obvious in every flutter of her heart, and every hitch of breath. She didn’t need to utter a word of her attraction, they already had it confirmed. With eyes on the two, they bent down at the waist to whisper on Bex’s ear. “No one will touch you so long as I’m around. You don’t have to worry, okay?” They attempted to reassure her, knowing she was probably a little nervous. No. It was to show their dominance in the bar. It was an attractive trait. That’s all. “We can sit in a booth in the back corner. I see that it’s free right now, but let’s get drinks first.”

With their hand still in place, they guided Bex to the bar and requested a special red wine for themselves, and then motioned to Bex. “And you? What would you like, cariña?” An elbow propped them up as they leaned on the bar, removing their hand from her back finally. The bartender made Metzli’s drink as they waited for Bex’s request.

It was comforting to know and Bex felt herself relaxing a bit more. She wondered if it was the check in Metzli’s pocket that was providing her sanctuary here, or something else. Not that Bex was scared-- it wasn’t fear of someone trying to hurt her, she’d been attacked by a vampire before, but that woman had been cruel, perhaps feral, and she wasn’t going to let one incident color her views on vampires-- but the attention drawn to her made her anxiety rocket. She wasn’t used to being perceived like this, it made her stomach churn a little. She wished she wasn’t always so self-conscious. Did they know? Could they see? Could they tell?

She shuffled closer to Metzli subconsciously and looked across the bartop towards the bartender. “Uh, vodka cranberry,” she ordered, leaning against the bar. Drummed her fingers on the bartop. This is where Kyle had worked. In fact, the alley behind it was where he’d attacked her, causing the scarring that was probably visible on her chest. She tried not to think about that. “So you come here a lot? I can see why. Totally has that vampy vibe. Do they serve actual blood here?” she asked, curious.

“Yes, they do. That’s what makes my wine special, actually. Makes partying much more fun when the drinks taste divine.” Metzli replied, sipping on their wine. Instantly, their eyes turned red and fangs extended from their canines. “Hope this doesn’t put you off. It feels like taking off a mask when I can do this freely.” They smiled and requested a special shot and a tequila shot for Bex. Gathering the shots and their wine, they pointed with their head and walked towards the booth they mentioned when the two first entered.

Metzli sat across from Bex and carefully placed all the drinks down. “Okay, I got these for us. Don’t drink this one though. You’ll hate it,” A small chuckle escaped their lips as they scooted their shot closer to them. “To art and to new friendship,” They raised their shot, which prompted Bex to clink hers with Metzli’s. Today had been fantastic so far, and they hoped it would only get better. Much better.

“You did say you wanted to get too wasted, right?” Another chuckle escaped right before taking their bloody concoction of inebriation.

“Can you taste normal food? I know a zombie and they say they can’t taste like, normal human food anymore. Is it like that for you?” Bex was blurting the questions before she could help herself, staring perhaps a little too excitedly as fangs formed in their mouth and eyes shimmered red. She remembered how the other woman’s face had looked when Bex had seen her outside the library, eyes glinting through the dark at her before teeth sunk into her neck. She blinked and looked away. “Oh, no! You’re totally fine! I don’t mind at all. I think it’s actually pretty cool,” she said, smiling. If she could trust Milo, she could trust Metzli. She was trying to get over all that, anyway. If she could trust Kyle, she could trust others. And she did, trust Kyle. “Is it, like, painful? To hold it in?”

She already felt more questions bubbling in her throat, but held them back for now, following Metzli back to the booth they’d pointed out earlier. Her eyes fell from Metzli’s face to the drinks and the shot that was handed to her. She had said that, hadn’t she? “To art and friendship.”Lifted her shot glass and clinked it to Metzli’s before downing it in one gulp, wincing only a little. “Tequila always burns more than I remember,” she admitted, chuckling slightly as she bit down into the lime that had come with it.

“Do different blood types taste different?” she asked, watching Metzli partake in their special wine, eyes wide, once again, with curiosity.

“You sure have a lot of questions, don’t you?” Metzli teased with a smile, and continued on to answer everything once the shots were taken. Bex’s face at the shot made them laugh right as they answered. “Can’t really taste normal food. Haven’t been able to since I was…I guess 20? I don’t remember. I really do miss conchas and coffee though. They were my favorite.” Memories of the late night sweet bread and coffee made them smile to themselves. Some memories were just too sweet to not smile at. “As for different blood types, yeah they do taste different. Blood from slayers tastes especially euphoric.”

Even more memories raced through their head, until a particular memory made their face fall. The one and only slayer they had killed themselves wasn’t even a slayer yet. Their master convinced them it was for the betterment of the clan, that it would save countless of vampiric lives. “But I’ve only ever had a few tastes,” Metzli attempted to shake free of the sorrowful hold the memory had on them. It frustrated them that they kept behaving this way.

“Um…are you going to finally tell me what you are? It’s only fair since you know what I am.” Their signature smile wasn’t as strong, but the attempt was there. They just wanted to move on.

“Oh, s-sorry! I can totally stop if it’s making you uncomfortable, I just kinda always do this,” Bex stumbled through the explanation, “I ask a lot of questions. I don’t mean to! I just get-- excited?” She gave a sheepish grin. “I like learning about new things and people and, well, I mean, you’re just such a fascinating person! I’ve met a lot of people here that I think are interesting or amazing, but none like you. I do even know another vampire, but they’re kinda new to it.” She paused, stopped herself from rambling more by picking up her drink and hovering it by her lips as she took a large gulp. That felt better. She needed to stop being so annoying. Fingers wrung together for a moment. “Sorry. I ramble a lot.”

The mention of slayers made Bex stiffen. She didn’t really think about how vampires-- and zombies, in turn-- could hurt hunters in the way the hunters themselves tried to keep them from doing. She swallowed. She wanted to ask more, but that distantly sad look was on Metzli’s face again, so she clenched her jaw shut instead.

When the subject turned on her, she welcomed it, even if it made her heart beat a little faster again. “What? You haven’t guessed yet?” she teased, smiling, hoping to lighten the mood after her slip up. “Obviously I’m some sort of human. A special kind.” A kind she was still learning to love, but her magic didn’t have to be a terrible thing-- that was the lesson she’d finally learned. Her magic could be special, if she let it.

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. You know what?” Metzli groaned, feeling like they were behaving like a vampire with a stupid soul. What they did was nothing. It was in their nature, so what did it matter in the long run? “Rambling is good. At least what you have on your mind will get out. Better that way.” Before continuing, they motioned for the bartender for refills and two more shots. Drinks would help, they were sure of it. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just—and you know, we’re gonna get back to what you are, but—“ They cut themselves off with a sip of their wine.

“Look, I don’t have a soul. And I did that by killing a slayer. But the kid wasn’t a slayer yet. Actually, they weren’t a slayer at all. My master said they were though. Greater good for my clan and all that. My master wanted me to believe that, so I did. I’m not supposed to feel bad, and for a stupid second, I did. What’s a stupid kid’s life matter anyway?” Metzli practically spat the last few words out, sounding like they were trying to convince themselves more than anyone else.

As they always did when they were frustrated, they combed their hand through their hair, making it fluff up a tiny bit more. Metzli was feeling. They were actually feeling. This wasn’t right. “Now I’m rambling. Puta madre.” The drinks came at just the right time and they downed the wine in their hand before reaching for the shot and taking it. “You can leave now if you want. Nice vampire facade over.” For once, they had actually given up and didn’t care about an easy lay or even about the benefits they could reap. What the hell is going on.

Bex was quiet was Metzli explained. She didn’t really know or understand what it meant to not have a soul, or that vampires could get rid of them. Could zombies? Could fae? Could humans? What was a soul, anyway? Was Bex just a soul whenever she left her body? What did a soul give a person, or make a person? She ruffled her brow, tapped her fingers on the side of her glass in thought. “I don’t want to leave,” she finally said, and, really, there’d never been any point in Metzli’s explanation that had made her want to. Maybe that was the wrong response, but like Bex had said several times before, she wanted to give people chances. As many as they needed. And Metzli had done nothing to Bex to indicate that they wanted to hurt her or anything like that. So what reason did Bex have to leave? “None of what you said makes me want to leave.”

She smiled gently, licking her lips as she took another sip. “I don’t, I mean-- that’s a lot. That you just-- told me. And, really, it feels nice to know you trusted me enough to tell me that. And I don’t think any of it makes you, like, a bad person? If-- if someone made you do it, it’s not your fault, you know.” They were words she’d said to MIna, as well. It didn’t matter how many people her father had led her to help kill, that blood wasn’t on Mina’s hands. She had been manipulated by someone who she thought she loved, and she had been a child. None of that was her fault. None of that sounded like Metzli’s fault. “It’s not bad for...believing in something someone you trusted told you to do. If it was, then I guess I’m bad, too, because I spent pretty much my entire life doing whatever my mom wanted me to do, only to find out that she wasn’t even my real mom.”

And then, in a relatively bold and perhaps stupid gesture, Bex leaned forward and reached across the table, putting her hands over Metzli’s on their glass. “People are just people,” she shrugged, “nice and good and bad are circumstantial things.”

Bex’s little speech made Metzli want to rip off their ears and end their misery. It was a load of bullshit. They couldn’t do that though, and so they continued to suffer. Having no soul made them have no empathy and not feel much of anything really. But somehow, someway, Bex made something snap. “You’re crazy, you know that? Having no soul means I have no remorse. I have no empathy. Everything I do is self serving.” They tried to get that point across, more so to see what she would do. The curiosity won over any want to keep her around for the benefits.

“Even knowing that, you don’t wanna run?” It baffled them, but it also amused them. Bex was so naive and innocent. Her touch only further proved that, and fed into the want to do more with her. “Frankly, it does make me a bad person. I do bad things with no remorse. Hypothetically, I could kill you now and it wouldn’t bother me. I’d feel nothing.” Knowing this might incite fear, Metzli rose from their seat and got into her booth. “Does that not scare you, even a little?” Their brow arched in curiosity and their arm swung around the top of the seat, letting a hand rest on Bex’s shoulder.

“Sometimes people aren’t just people. Sometimes, they’re cold monsters.” This was the most honest Metzli had been all night, but were fairly positive it would fly over Bex’s head.

“Empathy is a learned skill,” Bex said, tracing her finger along the rim of her glass. Everything Metzli was describing just sounded like the kind of person her mother was, but her mother had chosen to be that way, even with a soul. She didn’t know what it meant, that Metzli seemed better even without one, but it crinkled her brow and made the anger that was always in the pit of her stomach taste sour. She took another long sip of her drink, ready to feel the buzz. “Even if you can’t feel it, you can still know it and understand it. I think you...want people to think you’re a bad person.” But Bex didn’t believe bad and good were so simple, so easy. Maybe society told Metzli they were bad, but, really, what made them bad? She drummed her fingers on her glass again. The more she drank, the less anxious she got. The more bold. She licked her lips.

“If that’s how you want to live your life, then that’s fine. I don’t really have any room to judge. It doesn’t matter to me, anyway. Not really. So, no,” she stated firmly, her eyes watching as Metzli stood up from the booth, “I don’t want to run.” Even if her legs began to tingle and her heart pounded as Metzli slid into the booth next to her. She turned her face away and took another drink. “If you really wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it right after I handed you that check.” She pointed towards Metzli’s breast pocket, knowing it was in the suit jacket they’d left back in the gallery.

“I don’t think you’d kill me,” she said, “I’m not afraid of you.” She turned to look at Metzli, meeting their eyes. “People choose to be monsters. With or without a soul, it’s still a choice.”

Brows furrowed at Bex’s speech. Not out of annoyance or even anger, but actual understanding. How much Bex had gone through was unknown to Metzli, but it was becoming abundantly clear that the two were more similar than they had initially thought. They didn’t like this. They didn’t like how her words were having an actual effect on them. “Some choices come easier to others. The harder choices. The ones no one wants to make. The—” Words got stuck in their throat. Metzli felt incredibly flustered even with the agitation building. Bex was being the firm and confident one. She had successfully flipped the script right in front of them.

Lost for words, and lost in thought, Metzli’s free hand fell to their sternum lightly grazing their tattoo. “What are you anyway? Besides all this confidence in knowing my character, you’ve got to have some form of power that makes you feel safe, right? You’ve asked all the questions, it’s my turn.” They hoped the attempt to get back on track would work. It felt so off to feel. How on earth was she doing this? Might as well ask.

Metzli waved for another round that was brought swiftly to their booth and they took their shot, scooting the two untaken ones to Bex. “You’ve missed out on two,” they tapped on the drinks, feeling better now that it seemed the conversation was being swayed another direction.

“Sure, yeah,” Bex nodded, “but that’s just life, right? Some of us have to make harder choices. I guess what I believe is...what choice we make is who we are.” And while she’d made the wrong choices at first, she was making the right ones now. She was choosing to fight for herself and her own life, and she was free now. She would always be free. She even felt relatively satisfied when Metzli was lost for words, and she grinned over the rim of her cup. Her eyes followed their hand as it traced along the tattoo on their chest, and after only a moment of staring, Bex realized herself and turned her gaze back to the table and the drinks on it.

“I’m a spellcaster,” she finally answered, reaching out to take one of the two shots that were still calling her name. It warmed her stomach and she licked the lime off her lips. “I sort of just found out recently, but I’m getting better at it. And, to be clear, it’s not that I have magic that I’m not afraid. I just...don’t think of the world in the way other people do, I guess. I’m not afraid to die, if it’s for the sake of learning. My mom used to always say my curiosity was insatiable and that it would ruin me one day,” she breathed in and picked up the last shot. “Probably the only thing she was right about.” She downed the shot and felt her fingers begin to tingle and her head became lighter. She smiled.

“Better?” she asked, scooting the two empty shot glasses toward Metzli.

Bex definitely had a way with words despite how naive she first appeared to be. Hell, she’d somehow moved Metzli a little, and completely baffled them. “You’re not afraid to die? I guess you and I have that in common. Most of the time I just think existence is pointless. Some parts are fun, but most are so mundane or…painful,” The last word came out a little strained, like it hurt to say it. Quickly though, they glossed over it and teased Bex. “You staring at my chest? Perv.” It was a lousy effort, and she could probably see right through it. But probably not too. Metzli wasn’t sure anymore and it could honestly go either way at this point.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” With widened eyes, they watched as she took her shots and caressed her shoulder with the hand that draped over the top of the booth. “Spellcaster, huh? That’s impressive. Sucks that most magic is useless against me though. But you did say you’re not scared, right?” More teasing. But now, they wanted to prod more. See if she felt anything other than compassion for the vampire.

With their compelling in full effect, they locked eyes with Bex and continued to speak. “Tell me though, are you as gay as you give off? ‘Cause my gaydar has been going off from the moment we spoke online.” They figured they might as well see if she’s even interested before they move on to more interesting questions.

“Not really, no. I-- don’t want to die, of course. I have people who would mourn and be hurt if I died, but I don’t think I’m afraid to. It’s just a part of life, right?” Bex explained, still unsure herself what it truly meant or why she felt that way. There were so many other things to worry and wonder about in life, death didn’t seem like something she needed to fear. Maybe that was the problem with it all, but she couldn’t bring herself to. If she died right here, right now, then that was simply it for her. There was probably nothing after. She’d probably never know. It wouldn’t hurt her. She didn’t fear her own death, she feared other people’s death. She feared loss. She swallowed, barely aware of the hand on her shoulder through the haze of alcohol now in her stomach. Cheeks tinged and she shook her head. “No! No, I-- I was just-- your hand--” she stuttered out, hiding the blush behind her cup again, subconsciously leaning over the table.

She opened her mouth to say something more about her magic, but those weren’t the words that came out. Instead, she said, “I’m gay. Very gay. I just sort of recently came out, it wasn’t safe before, but it is now. Sort of. Mostly. I think? It’s-- complicated. Because I’m also trans and not everyone is, um-- okay with that, even in the queer community.” She swallowed back the rest of the words. Why had she said all that? She did seem to have looser lips the more she drank. Still, she took another drink. “Do I really give off that much gay vibes?”

Metzli could relate to that, too much even. Their master frowned upon their sexuality, and even forced them to keep their hair long. Finding their identity didn’t come until after they left their clan. That was a freedom that only they could attain by escaping. “Well, you’re very much safe now. And you’re a beautiful woman. Anyone in the queer community that isn’t okay with that is not truly a part of the community.” Every word was honest, and even had hints of sympathy to them. Being who you are can come with a cost, and it looked like Bex had paid that in more ways than one.

“Your gay vibes are off the charts, but that isn’t a bad thing. Not to me at least.” A charming smile was strewn on their face and they gently laid their hand atop hers. If it was out of actual sympathy to comfort or to continue to flirt, they weren’t sure. Not anymore. They wanted to believe it was the latter, so that’s how they approached it, still compelling. “Tell me though, is it just me, or have you actually wanted me to be this close all night? To maybe even kiss you? And if so, just do what you’ve wanted to.” Metzli continued, thinking out loud this time. “I find you attractive, very much so, and you find me attractive too, so why hold it off?” It was rather bold, but now was as good a time as any. Especially with the buzz they had going now.

Bex felt her cheeks growing more flushed at the compliment. She couldn’t ignore it anymore-- Metzli was coming onto her. Suddenly, her heartbeat picked up and her fingers tingled and the alcohol mixed in with her nerves and she felt exposed, in this corner, in this booth. The idea that people could look at her and know, sense it, that she was queer, frightened her. It shouldn’t have. She wanted to be brave. She’d told Mina she could be brave, that she wanted people to know. But not like this, not like this. Still, something compelled her to stay seated as she looked over at Metzli. “I-- I’m glad it’s not a bad thing. Not that I thought you would think that! But, y-you know. It’s-- a lot. Being visible. Knowing that people know.” Especially when she’d tried so hard to hide it. She didn’t have to hide it anymore. She was free. She let out a long breath.

Her body stiffened again at the words. A hand over top hers on the table. Her mind raced, every thought landing on Mina. Still, she said, “I have. You’re very attractive and maybe I did want you to, a l-little.” The words tumbled from her mouth and she felt sick saying them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. “I have a girlfriend!” she squeaked finally. “So I shouldn’t want any of that and I don’t know why I said that and I-- I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing, but she was. She pulled her hand away and clasped them together. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Metzli wouldn’t simply like her for her. Why would anyone?

Bex rambled some more, and it overwhelmed Metzli this time. The feeling of victory didn’t last long as they saw how all of their actions had actually affected Bex. Fuck. What in the fuck was happening. Did that actually care? No. Yes. No. They saw themselves in her. That’s why they cared. “Girlfriend?” The next few words were important. Especially if they wanted to keep her around. Why did they want to? “Should’ve known a woman like you would be taken. Sorry for the advances.” Moving back to the other side of the booth, they gave Bex space.

“You’re a good person. One of the only truly good people.” Their words were trembled and unsteady. Was this disappointment from feeling like they lost, or because they actually began to genuinely like her? There were way too many questions. None of which had answers. Not answers that came easy, or that Metzli would like. “I should go, shouldn’t I? Don’t mistake this for anything but…but embarrassment, okay? I’m not being nice here. I have no soul, I feel no remorse. Got it?”

“I-- no, it-- it’s okay.” Bex wasn’t sure if that was true, but the disappointment was palpable. She bit her lip and held on tight to her drink, wondering if it might shatter under her grip. She knew how to make it shatter if she wanted to, she was getting good at that. She looked across the table at Metzli. “You didn’t-- you didn’t know. I should’ve just said something earlier. I’m sorry, I just--” but she stopped talking, because she didn’t actually know why she hadn’t said anything earlier. Fear? Anxiety? Or something else? Maybe she’d like it, the attention. She shouldn’t have. She really shouldn’t have. But she had and it tinged her cheeks and she looked down at her lap. “I’m trying to be better, but I’m not really comfortable being so out yet.”

Then Metzli said that thing that so many other people had said to her-- that she was good, maybe too good, truly good-- and Bex let out a long huff of air. “I’m not,” she mumbled, and this was proof, wasn’t it? Because she didn’t want Metzli to leave. She liked them. She wished they’d liked her, too, in a ‘let’s just get drinks’ way. Why did it always have to end this way? Bex wasn’t used to this happening with people who weren’t guys. But Metzli was like her, they understood a side of the world that most people couldn’t. Not even Mina. She met their eyes as they began to stand from the booth.

“I don’t believe that,” she said to them, but it was quiet, and she wasn’t looking at them anymore. “But I can pretend to if that’s what you want.” She swallowed. “And this doesn’t-- change anything. Not for me.” She downed the rest of her drink and pulled out her phone. “Do something good with that money, okay? I like your gallery, I think you deserve the chance.”

The disappointment in Bex’s voice was evident, and again, somehow she tugged at whatever humanity was left in them. “How do you do that?!” Their tone was frustrated but not inherently angry. Usually once Metzli had gotten such sensitive information, they could use it to their advantage. But this information was sensitive in a way that meant something to them too. Both of them were two different results of the same tragedy. And even though tragedy came in different ways, it hurt the same.

“Stop being so…fucking similar! I—I keep seeing the similarities and I just want to actually…whatever!” Metzli wasn’t yelling, but they were whispering loudly in frustration. Sitting back down, they locked eyes with Bex and sighed. “I’m…I’m sorry.” It was a sincere apology. If anyone deserved one, it was Bex. “I think I’m still gonna go, but I want to make it clear that I guess—I guess I want to be friends. No more flirting either.”

Bex was surprised by the sudden outburst, and while it wasn’t loud or angry, she still startled, sitting up straighter. Metzli was grumbling things at her, about her, something about being similar, but Bex had a hard time concentrating through the haze in her head. The shots were hitting her quickly. She needed to be careful about this, or she’d say something she regretted. Like, ‘Don’t go!’ or ‘I don’t mind the flirting’. Because she did and she should, but alcohol made things like that seem okay. Seem better. She blinked, nodded. “Sorry,” she said again, the word a bit slurred. “I do really like you. I want you to be my friend, too.”

There was a genuine surprise at the apology, though, and Bex couldn’t help but smile. It seemed like she was right. Metzli could blab all day about how they had no soul and didn’t feel remorse or guilt, but here they were, apologizing for making advances on her, for possibly ruining something. Not that it would have. “We can be friends,” she agreed. That was what she wanted most, anyway. “You can go, if you want, though. I’ll be okay.” She tapped her fingers on the table, little sparks of magic dancing on her fingertips. The other vampires in here didn’t scare her. The tequila shots had emboldened her, drawing a lazy smile on her face. “No one touches me anymore unless I want them to.”

If Metzli had a heart, it would probably jump a little, but luckily they didn’t. “Ah, fuck. Look, I’ll take you home. You’re drunk, and I—I guess I would feel a little…a little bad if anything even remotely happened. Lurking in the dark is my job. But this doesn’t mean I feel shit. Okay?” They extended their hand, hoping she’d take their offer. There would be no funny business either. She’d get home safely and that would be the end of it.

“You can also visit another time for the secret gallery. Promise.”

Bex took Metzli’s hand. She trusted them, and maybe that would bite her in the ass, but Bex truly believed that they were a good person, at least by her definition. Maybe other people thought they weren’t, but Bex didn’t care about that. As she was becoming a part of this world, she was figuring out for herself what everything meant to her. There were too many different things about, human morality, human values could be applied to much of it. And even if Bex was human, she wanted to understand. She wanted to know. She would let her curiosity guide her to her death. She took Metzli’s hand and stood up, wobbly.

“Well, you did make me take 3 tequila shots in rapid succession,” she slurred, smiling. She prodded Metzli’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that promise,” was all she said, before she headed for the exit. No one else had to know about this, she decided. This could just be hers.

[lucifers-trash-stash]

Sweet Indulgences

Summary: Ellie is requested to stop by after hours to help Chancellor Palpatine with paperwork. When wine and honeyed words are exchanged, she can't help but indulge in what comes next. 

Word Count: 5252

Warnings: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. Extremely Non-con/dub con smut situations, alcohol/drunk sex, gaslighting and emotional manipulation, boss/employee relationship, age difference, loss of virginity.

It wasn’t unusual for Ellie Reeshe to be called to assist Chancellor Palpatine with his workload. Even though she was Vice Chair Mas Amedda’s intern, Palpatine would request her assistance from time to time. He wasn’t the kind of man that would be able to make time to teach his own intern, not to mention that he was much too powerful of a man to trust his information to just any young intern. Yet he trusted her enough from her work with Amedda that he granted her as a sole exception.

But being requested after hours was unusual. Palpatine had typically asked for her help when he attended meetings and otherwise couldn’t keep up with the copious amounts of paperwork that piled up in his absence. He didn’t let anyone visit him at night unless they were a trusted colleague. And yet here Ellie was, walking into his office with her datapad clutched to her chest nervously. It wasn’t like she didn’t trust the Chancellor, but she found the arrangement to be unusual to say the least.

When she didn’t find him the expansive main office, she felt her mouth dry slightly. Ellie always did her work there. It was this public office, and the fact that he wasn’t here made her uneasy. He must be in his private office, where she had never been invited before. But if he wasn’t here, process of elimination dictated that she had to wander deeper into his office. The thought created butterflies in her stomach, and a subtle fluttering even below that.

Ellie harbored feelings of desire for the Chancellor. As often as she tried to push those feelings aside, they still arose within her. She knew they could never be fulfilled. He was Supreme Chancellor for kriff’s sake. Even though he was a bachelor he would never look twice at her. Especially if he knew how inexperienced she was. Ellie had never laid with a man before, and she couldn’t help but fantasize about the Chancellor. He was everything she wanted in a partner; insanely brilliant, skilled in his position, and quite handsome as well. He held an air of regality and his traditional clothes he had tailor made from his home planet of Naboo only enhanced his heightened status.

With a deep breath, she pushed those lustful feelings aside. The Chancellor needed her help tonight. She needed to stay focused and do her job dutifully. Shaking her head to rid herself of her deeper feelings, Ellie made her way through his side hallway and approached the door to his private office, which was already open and beckoning her to enter.

As she passed the threshold, Chancellor Palpatine’s gaze flickered up from his work. He smiled warmly at her, urging her inside. “Miss Reeshe,” he said, her name rolling gracefully off his tongue. “Please, come in. I apologize for asking you to come in so late.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Chancellor.” She sat down on the sofa that Palpatine gestured to. He was sitting in his own chair in front of his console, reading over what looked like walls of text about whatever important matters needed his attention this time.

She took a moment to admire the room. Unlike his main office in red, this room and its furnishings were sleek black. The wide window encompassing the room allowed for the beautiful night life of Coruscant’s many skyscrapers to shine brightly through. She couldn't even begin to imagine what waking up to this view every morning must be like. If anything it reminded her of the societal divide between her and the Chancellor.

Palpatine wasted no time sending her the documents to her datapad, where she looked over the files and parsed out the most important information. Ellie found it much easier to relax when she was doing paperwork and felt less distracted by the Chancellor’s presence when she was able to occupy her mind. However, as the minutes turned into hours, she felt her attention faltering little by little. She did her best to stifle her yawns, but Palpatine noticed immediately.

He stood up from his chair with a short sigh, bringing her attention back to him. “Perhaps it is time for a short reprieve, wouldn’t you agree?” Ellie nodded and Palpatine glanced down at her briefly with a warm look in his eyes before turning to retrieve something from a cabinet in the corner of the room.

Palpatine returned with two crystal wine glasses and a bottle of wine, sending Ellie’s mind into a tailspin. “Chancellor, I really shouldn’t,” she began to protest.

“Nonsense,” Palpatine said, waving her anxieties away with a comforting expression. “It is really no problem at all. Besides, this is blossom wine from Naboo, it helps to relax the mind.”

As Palpatine sat beside her on the sofa and popped the cork from the wine, Ellie insisted, “Please, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You work so diligently, Miss Reeshe. Even you deserve to       indulge     now and then.”

She silently watched him pour a small amount into each glass. It really wasn’t that much, she told herself. A few sips wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, how could she turn down the Chancellor? She really didn't want to disappoint the man she admired so much.

When he handed her the glass and she took a sip, Ellie felt the flavor slowly bloom over her taste buds. She had never tasted anything like it before and had to hold herself back from gulping the whole glass down. It was smooth and comforting, like sinking into her bed after a stressful day. Her muscles relaxed and she felt herself meld into the couch and simply enjoy the moment she had here.

“This is very delicious, thank you,” Ellie said, nodding in appreciation to her superior. Palpatine’s eyes glimmered in amusement and took a sip from his own glass.

It wasn’t long before Ellie felt relaxed enough to open up to the Chancellor, discussing things other than politics. Her love for the arts for one, which he shared as well. Palaptine had pointed to many of the pieces around the room, explaining to her their histories in wonderous detail. He told her of the most recent show he attended, her attention focused entirely on his expert storytelling, his voice drawing her in and creating such fantastical pictures. She hadn’t even noticed how often Palpatine had offered to pour more blossom wine for her, and how often she accepted because she was finally having a pleasant evening with a man she so desperately desired but couldn’t have.

Palpatine paused for a brief moment in the conversation to sip his wine. Slowly and methodically, he changed the topic and asked her, “And how long have you held desire for me?”

Before Ellie could even realize the question she was being asked or think of the answer she was giving, she giggled and told him, “It was before Vice Chair Amedda formally introduced us, I always saw the HoloNet coverage of your work and I just-”

She froze. Her hand slowly crept over her mouth as she looked at the Chancellor in horror. Had she really just said that? She couldn’t believe herself. “Chancellor, I apologize,” she began before Palpatine interrupted her with a smile and a flippant wave of his hand.

“Come now, Miss Reeshe, we are both adults here. We can talk about such things in a civilized manner.” He chuckled briefly before continuing, “And it isn’t as if it is uncommon for others to find me intriguing in one way or another. Now, be honest with me. What about me strikes your interest? I’m curious to know what someone as young as you thinks of me.”

“Well I, uh,” Ellie stumbled over her words. “I find you quite… handsome, I will admit. And your presence when you hold meetings is incredible.” She paused for a moment to think while Palpatine simply drank more of his wine. “I think I’m attracted most by your intelligence. You always know the answers for everything even if all appears lost. I admire that about you.”

Palpatine pondered this answer for a moment before speaking again, “You have certainly thought about this in great detail, haven’t you?” When Ellie didn’t respond out of embarrassment, he continued. “I’m flattered. Truly. You have excellent taste. It shows your own intelligence in the best light, you know.”

Before Ellie had a chance to speak, Palpatine shifted himself so he better faced her, his attention fixated completely on her. “If you weren’t intelligent, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have been hired to be Amedda’s intern, and you certainly wouldn’t be here with me right now. I don’t place my confidence in many people, but I know you to be loyal and hardworking.” It was like he was able to read her insecurities with ease and used them to reassure her.

Before she knew it, Palpatine reached out for her, his fingers gently stroking along her cheek and up under the point of her chin, lifting her eyes to his. Sparks flew across her skin where he made contact, but she didn’t dare lean into them. Ellie’s eyes focused entirely on his, breathless as she listened to him speak.

“You’re quite the talented young woman, Miss Reeshe. Light Years ahead of your peers. You deserve to be in the company of those who fully appreciate the depths of your mind. No fool among your peers has managed that, have they?”

He continued without letting her answer. “And yet you still have much to learn.” His fingers gently traced along her hairline, brushing the stray strands behind her ear. “Your dedication to your studies have bourne you much fruit, but it not always the academic fruits which are sweetest. There is still so much yet you have to experience. Am I wrong?”

Ellie shook her head.

“This is what I have suspected. What lacks have you seen in your peers? You know they are not worthy of you.”

She struggled with the words. “It sounds terrible to say.”

 “Say it.” Palpatine’s voice sounded icier.

Ellie gulped. “I felt as though I was… beyond them. That while I was trying my best to succeed all they cared about was greed. They didn’t get me. Not in the way someone with more experience could.”

“There is something to be said about how we grow with our experiences. For those that have experienced little, it’s hard for them to truly appreciate how precious life can be. And how to engage someone like you in the way that you deserve.”

“Yet it sounds like I’m being egotistical.”

“There is nothing wrong with a healthy confidence in one’s capabilities.” Palpatine pulled his hand back from her face as he took the empty glass from her hand and set it on the coffee table. “And to desire someone who would see you as you really are. More than just a companion to share a bed with. An intellectual equal.”

Ellie couldn’t help the blush that arose on her face. She tilted her head down, embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Thank you Chancellor.”

“No need to thank me, Miss Reeshe. I would find it an honor to be your mentor in this.” Palpatine gazed over her for a brief moment, the hairs on the back of her neck standing when placed under his scrutinizing eye. “You’ve grown quiet.”

Ellie shifted slightly, trying to figure out the best way to phrase her answer. “I just… Never know what to say. I don’t feel like I deserve praise of any sort. I just exist. And I desperately wish I could be confident enough to actually interest someone.” Ellie knew she should stop herself but she kept going, the words pouring out like a wishing fountain. “I just want to be noticed by someone. I want someone to think about wanting me in the same way I think about the men that catch my attention. I want an outlet but I can’t because no one would ever look twice at me. I’m nothing special.”

Palpatine leaned forward, and Ellie felt herself lean towards him as if pulled by a magnetic force. Slowly, he explained, “You say no one would look twice at you. Does this mean you haven’t noticed Amedda’s flirtations towards you?”

A shocked look flit across her face. How would Palpatine have known that? There were some lingering glances Amedda had given her over the past few weeks, but nothing more than that. She had to admit that those glances had left her mind wandering, but she wasn’t sure if it was simply desire or something more.

“If you were to ask me,” Palpatine began, gesturing with his hand. “I would say that I believe there was an inkling of compatibility between the two of you.” Ellie was prepared to sputter a response, but Palpatine stopped her. “I know he might not be the most appealing candidate considering his cold attitude and sharp sarcasm, however he is quite dutiful and serious with his job and he would do the same for you if given the opportunity.”

“But I don’t want Amedda!”

“Perhaps not. While he has his charms, he has not the wit to keep up with a mind such as yours.” A dangerous glint flit across Palpatine’s eyes for a brief second as he whispered, “Then who      do     you want?”

Realization crossed Ellie’s features. She had somehow walked into this line of questioning. Unsure of how to change the topic, she softly replied, “I have no one in mind currently.”

“Don’t lie to me. I remind you that we are adults, and there’s nothing stopping us from speaking honestly with each other.” He tilted his head to the side, looking at her as if he was chiding a small child. “Now, tell me.”

Ellie screwed her eyes shut in frustration and embarrassment. She couldn’t bear to look at him. Her emotions ricocheted off the walls in her mind, desperately trying to calm herself. And yet, she felt herself growing wet from the notion that she would have to tell him. He would know her secret desires for him. And perhaps he would do something about it.

“You.” She spat the word out as soon as she was able to conjure it. When she heard his long exhale, she quickly opened her eyes and stumbled over her words, “I know such feelings are wrong and that nothing can ever happen. You’re Chancellor, and I’m simply an intern. It would be scandalous and a stain on your career-”

Palpatine gestured his hand to quiet her, and surprisingly it worked. He held the silence for a long moment, watching as she twisted her hands in her lap, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Finally, he spoke, “You are correct in your being an intern. You’re here to learn and be taught by the greatest minds the galaxy has to offer. And you’re desperately looking for someone to mentor this spark for knowledge within you.” His eyes flit up to hers, his voice low. “I was not lying when I said I would find it an honor. You have great potential and I see more than a little enjoyment for myself in the arrangement.”

His hand now cupped Ellie’s cheek, tilting her head to face him as he continued. “I should hope you would trust me enough to teach you more than what you would learn behind your datapad. In order to keep your desires in check, it would be pertinent for you to have an outlet to indulge in them freely and without judgement. Do you understand, Ellie?”

She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips. Her head was swimming and her inhibitions were lowered by the wine. Ellie’s nervousness wouldn’t get in the way even if she wanted it to. Nothing could push the idea that this was wrong out of her mind. All she wanted was Palpatine, and he was offering all of that to her and more.

Ellie couldn’t help how quickly her mouth sought his, how her body pressed so close to him as he returned the kiss with vigor. His mouth tasted like the wine, tangy and sweet on his tongue as he explored her mouth. His free hand gripped her hip, pulling her body closer to his as he wrapped his other arm around the back of her neck, holding her in place.

Ellie gasped as his kisses trailed lower, her fingers gripping onto his robes as he pressed fevered kisses down her jaw, her neck, and stopping above the collar of her shirt. It wasn’t until her back was pressed against the couch that she realized he had laid her down and was on top of her now, his hands slowly lifting her shirt up.

She couldn’t help how her hips canted up to meet his, her fingers tugging at the fabric of his clothes in a desperate attempt to pry them open. Ellie whined pitifully as she couldn’t figure out the complexities of how his robes were fastened, and Palpatine simply chuckled at her attempts.

With her shirt rucked up over her stomach, Palpatine’s fingers had room to work on the button of her pants. She barely registered how quickly his fingers slipped inside her panties, rubbing her bud so tenderly. She cried out, the sensations too much to handle. The wine had left her so needy, and he knew this all too well, his fingers skillfully working in the ways that he knew she needed to be pleased.

“So wet already,” he mused as his fingers drifted lower, finding her entrance. She jolted in his grip as he let one finger roam inside, pressing against her tight walls while his thumb continued to rub her clit with fervor. “You’ve waited so long for someone to do this to you, haven’t you? For      me    to do this to you.”

Ellie could only whimper in response, her eyes shut tight as she struggled to keep herself from coming too quickly. However, the effort was in vain, as he was simply more knowledgeable in this subject than she would have ever dreamed. She saw stars behind her eyes as her knuckles grew white with how tightly she clung to him. Her back arched to meet his body, demanding more even as she shuddered beneath his touch.

When she opened her eyes, Palpatine smiled down at her, his mouth finding hers as she eagerly returned the kiss. His fingers still pressed lazy circles on her clit, just enough to build her desire back up again. When he pulled away, he brought her up with him. She clung to him on shaky legs, afraid that if she let go she would fall flat on her face. He glanced down at her with amusement but continued to hold her in his arms, letting the last few waves of pleasure subside before beginning to lead her to another door. “Come along, my dear. You don’t deserve to experience the things I am going to do to you while lying on a couch.”

She let him guide her into his bedroom, every inch bathed in a deep red color. The walls, the furniture, the satin sheets on his luxurious bed. The color overwhelmed her, filled her with passion that she wasn’t sure if it was aided by the wine or not. She felt lightheaded, her mind swimming contently as she allowed Palpatine to guide her where he wanted her.

Ellie clung to his shoulders as he made quick work of her clothes, swaying gently as her legs trembled beneath her. She let him pull down her panties and remove her bra so she was completely bare before him. The only reason she didn’t cover herself in embarrassment was because she was too busy holding onto him for stability. He gazed down at her body in reverence, ghosting his fingers over the curves of her body, almost as if he was keeping his desire under control and waiting before fully giving into his own needs.

He slowly backed her into the bed behind her, the feeling of the mattress on the back of her thighs sending chills down her spine. With his wordless insistence, she sat down on the bed in front of him, looking up at him in curiosity with what he had planned for her next.

“Relax, and lie down for me.” He said, stepping back for a moment to allow her the space to scoot up his bed. His eyes roamed her prone form laid out before him as he began to unfasten his robes, murmuring, “Good girl. So very eager.”

Ellie watched as he slowly shed not only his robes, but his underclothes as well. She felt the blush crawl up her cheeks while he maintained eye contact as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chest speckled with silver hair that she longed to run her fingers through. He worked to remove his pants, and she tried to sit up so she could help him. Before she could he responded with a firm, “Keep still. Be patient and wait. You will get your pleasure soon.”

Ellie reclined again, watching him pull down his pants while her thighs pinched together in need. While she had never been with a man before, she could tell he was above average in some respects, as even when he was not fully hard he was a sight to behold. She wanted to kneel down in front of him and please him, but that would be for another time.

Instead, Palaptine gripped her thighs and pried them open, a beguiled expression on his face as he watched her whimper. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he said, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “I imagine you’ll enjoy this immensely.”

He dipped his head to meet her sex, his tongue flicking out tentitively to test her sensitivity. Ellie twitched, her body arching as she craved for him to do more to her. At her invitation, Palaptine leaned forward, his tongue moving up and down her slick wetness and returning once more to her bud, pressing a kiss there. When her legs tried to instinctively shut around his head, she was surprised that she didn’t budge. His grip on her was so tight that she couldn’t even move. It made her want to panic, but more than that it made her want him to simply take her. To strip her of her innocence and ravage her.

“Watch,” he commanded, waiting until her eyes met his before returning once more to her core. She wanted so badly to throw her head back in pleasure, but Palaptine kept her gaze all while he worked his tongue against her clit, flicking and sucking and making her desire pool even more. He made quick work of her growing wetness, lapping up the juices at her entrance no matter how much she whined and writhed in his grip. She was at his mercy, and she loved every second of it.

She was almost embarrassed at how easily she continued to come from his touch, how every time she thought he might stand up and give her a reprieve, he chased her next orgasm quickly and with reckless abandon, setting her nerves on fire each time. The sounds that came out of Ellie’s mouth were so vulgar and unlike her, but she found it freeing to let go and indulge, just as Palpatine had told her to.

Finally, after melting into the bed from her previous orgasm, Palpatine released his grip on her thighs, allowing her to relax. He stared down at her for a brief moment, admiring his work as she panted and whined beneath him. She was so tired but she needed more. She needed all of him. Ellie was too embarrassed to say the words so she let out a pitiful, “Please.”

His eyes lit up as he stepped closer to the bed, deciding to let her have what she craved. He lifted her legs and gestured for her to scoot further up on the bed. He crawled in after her, his body hovering inches from her as he set up the pillows behind her to prop herself up on. While Ellie made herself comfortable, Palpatine nudged himself between her thighs, propping them up against his own and she wrapped them around his waist instinctively. His body caged her, keeping her from squirming away from him even though she knew she could never, not this close to getting what she wanted.

When he slid his cock up and down her slit she shivered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he stared down at her and watched her reaction. Finally, his cock stopped right at her entrance, the head already pressing against her eagerly. “Are you ready for me, Ellie?”

“Please, Chancellor,” Ellie whimpered, pressing her body closer to his. “I need you.”

He hummed gently as he pressed in closer, his cock slowly entering her. She winced at the discomfort, but so far everything was all right. She trusted him, after all.

Palpatine leaned over her, pressing his forehead against her neck as he sought to go deeper, her walls tight around his member as he gasped softly at the sensation. “You may call me Palpatine if you prefer.”

And as he bottomed out inside of her, Palpatine was what she called out when he held still inside her as she adjusted to him. Ellie had never felt this sensation before, and she so desperately wanted to cling to the moment for as long as she could stand to. Her head flooded with stimuli and she clung to him desperately for stability. She felt his member throb inside her, so tight against her and all she could see was red everywhere and her mind was frantic with desire. All she wanted was Palaptine and here he was, deep inside her as she held tightly to him in the silent, intimate moment they shared.

He began to move slowly, pulling back ever so slightly before rocking himself back into her completely. Ellie whined as he did it again and again, each time slowly pulling out even further before rutting back inside of her. Before she could get used to it, it became rhythmic, the sound of their bodies against each other echoing through the room, her gasps and moans echoing in her own ears. Palpatine buried his face in the crook of her neck and gripped her hips, growling low in his throat.

Suddenly, he pulled up from her grasp, holding onto her hips tightly as he began to set a ruthless pace. From this angle he could rock into her faster and faster, the bed creaking beneath the both of him. Her body swayed in time with him, her hands finding his as she held onto him for dear life. Her back arched off of the bed, his head dipping down to place sloppy kisses along her breasts, one of his hands wrapping around her lower back to hold her in place. Then his fingertips brushed against her clit, lighting fireworks inside of her as she cried out, holding on desperately to him as she felt his warm release pour into her, his groan mingling with hers.

Before she knew it, Palpatine was resting on top of her, the two of them simply lingering in the limbo of the moment. She held onto him, running her fingers through his hair as he placed soft kisses against her collarbone. Eventually he pulled away from her, leaving her empty again with their combined juices dripping out of her. Ellie rested her eyes as he shuffled about the room, listening to the water run for a brief moment before he returned to the bed.

She opened her eyes when she felt his hand nudge open her thighs and pressed a warm cloth against her, cleaning most of the mess he had made of her. He wore a red bathrobe now, and he actually looked more chipper than usual. He always looked so stressed and tired normally, but where sex had made her utterly exhausted he looked revitalized. He practically glowed.

When he moved away again, she allowed her body settle, feeling her eyes shut on her even though she was too tired to draw the sheets up over her cooled down body. Ellie drifted for a brief moment before she jolted awake when Palpatine entered the room again, this time the sweet smell of tea wafting around him.

Ellie shifted in bed as Palpatine sat up, setting the tea on the side table as he pulled the sheets up over the both of them and offered her a cup. “How are you still awake,” she mumbled, which made Palaptine chuckle.

“Your stamina will improve over time, I assure you,” he said with a wink. “Drink. You’ll regret not having it when you wake up tomorrow with a sore throat after all the screaming you’ve done tonight.”

With a whine and a growing flush of her cheeks, she sat up in bed propped against Palpatine for support while she sipped her tea. He took a sip of his and flipped through his datapad, reading various articles as her eyes tried to keep up with him but he read much too fast for her. “Do you ever sleep?”

“Of course,” he responded. “Just not for very long.”

Ellie hummed in response but said no more. Her eyelids kept drooping as she leaned her head on Palpatine’s shoulder. He took the tea from her hands before she had the chance to spill it. He wrapped his free arm around her body and pulled her closer, her head resting on his chest as she sighed in contentment.

“I enjoyed tonight,” Ellie mumbled just loud enough for Palpatine to hear.

“I’m glad,” he said, an alluring tone in his voice. “There will be many opportunities to thoroughly enjoy each other in a multitude of ways.”

She whined. “I don’t want to have to work tomorrow. Too tired.”

Palpatine hummed. “You won’t have to. Tomorrow morning I will be informing Amedda of your switch. You’ll be my intern now.”

Ellie immediately sat up and looked into his eyes. She tried to see if he was kidding, but he looked as serious as ever. “But what would people think? They know me as Mas Amedda’s intern, I can’t just-”

“Do you forget that I’m Chancellor?” Palpatine stroked her chin with his fingers. “No one would dare question me even if they did have suspicions. If anyone asks, I will simply tell them that I needed the extra help, which would seem suspicious to none.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips softly against hers. “No one needs to know what else I am teaching you.”

Ellie slowly nodded, her heart fluttering in her chest at the news. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, however she knew right now that if she wasn’t exhausted she would have gushed and thanked him up and down for the opportunity to serve him, in more ways than one. Instead, she pressed another kiss to his lips before whispering, “Thank you.”

She wasn’t sure when Palpatine finally went to bed, but all she knew was that she fell asleep on his chest shortly afterward, curled up by his side while he lovingly caressed her hip as a way to lull her to sleep.

[legend-icon-and-star]

BenDeLaCreme Has Something to Stay (originally linked via reddit)

Dear Drag Race “fans” (not the real fans),

I’m not Jasmine Masters, but I’ve still got some stuff to say.

Tonight is an exciting night for a whole new crop of queens, and I want to celebrate them. But you may have noticed I have not yet congratulated the winner of All Stars 3. Or weighed in on the final episode at all. In fact, I’ve steered clear of social media for the last week. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I have discovered that anything I say will lead to an attack from a small but vocal minority of “fans” who have been using social media to harass and bully the queens.

If you have tweeted, commented, posted or DMed anything negative to any of the queens, this message is for you. Try and stick with it — it’s more than 140 characters.

I think a lot of you will find yourselves happier if you assume we are all humans trying our best to varying degrees of success at various times. The black and white thinking that people can be minimized to “good” or “bad” is both reductive and destructive.

Now that the season is over, let me clarify some things.

Firstly, let’s dismantle this “you knew what you were getting into” narrative. I can’t speak for the other girls, but I know I am not alone in this: Drag is my one true love. It is not just my job or my big plan to get rich and famous. I started drag when you had to love it so much that you were willing to withstand hate from the straight AND gay communities and devote your life to a demanding art form that almost guaranteed you would be permanently impoverished and disdained. Drag is who I am. It is deep in my blood and necessary to my happiness. I come from a long proud tradition of people with that same deep need for this art form, and we all now live in a moment where Drag Race is inextricably tied to any drag queen’s career, whether they engage with it or not. It provides amazing opportunities for both cast members and viewers. The culture surrounding it also takes some things away.

When I was first asked to be on All Stars 3 I said no. Then they asked some more. While I was flattered they wanted me back, I wished they would stop. I knew that no matter what I chose, there would be some unhappiness. There would be some regrets. It was the first of what I knew would be many decisions with no right answer. But thus is life - those of you who think you will ever have an objectively “right” or “wrong” viewpoint have a rocky road ahead. At the end of the day I decided that despite my issues with the format, I’d be able to change more from the inside than I could from the sidelines.

Also, the kid I once was needed to see the adult I am today.

Also, my career is everything to me.

Also, financial security is rare for an artist.

There is no one reason for anything. Nothing is entirely selfless, but that doesn’t mean none of it is.

I had no plan to do what I did, but it was not some incomprehensible decision that was “right for me” and I reject that narrative.

I did not leave the competition as any sort of favor to the other girls. I did not leave the competition because I couldn’t hack it. I did not leave the competition for “my mental health” or because a producer put me up to it. And I have never claimed any of those things. I left the competition because, in a situation where I had felt trapped choosing between “success” and what felt right, I had an epiphany. I saw an opportunity to make a statement to the producers, and in turn to you, the viewer. And also to myself. Stop accepting what “authority figures” have told you you have to do. You do not have to consent to compromising your values or personal boundaries, whatever they may be. You do not have to push people down to lift yourself up. This society has indoctrinated us with certain beliefs at a great cost to our own humanity. Some of you are angry I questioned those beliefs. If those beliefs can’t withstand questioning, then they are not structurally sound.

I’m disappointed with those who can’t see through the smoke and mirrors to the heart of drag, which is a message of love and inclusivity. Our culture has embraced bloodlust, and for some, reality TV has become our coliseum. The creators set up impossible situations for us to navigate without any of the support systems of the real world. Situations that cause some of us pain and anger and sadness. They don’t do it because they are monsters, they do it because they are under the impression that’s what you, the viewer, demands. Is that what you demand? Do you feel ok with demanding that?

I’d like to think that there are more people, like me, who love the part of this show that allows us to see amazing people do amazing things.

I’d also like to address this concept of being “fake” or “calculating.” If being “fake” means not thinking or feeling the same way in one moment than you thought or felt in a different moment, then lord help us all. If being “calculating” is thinking through your words and actions and modeling the behavior you would like to see in the world, even when it is difficult, then I hope more of you will become calculating.

No one is born kind. It takes work. That work requires thought, intention, and sometimes it means not indulging in everything you feel. Anyone who does that work will sometimes fail because failure always goes hand in hand with trying. My anger stems from the throngs of people unwilling to do the work.

Being kind when you feel inclined to be kind is not a measure of your kindness. Being kind when you are actually sad or angry or frustrated or resentful—or just DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO—that is being kind. Some of you embrace your id as if spouting every thought that goes through your mind is equivilent to being genuine. It is not dishonest to strive to be better than you are.

I love and respect Trixie. I love and respect Shangela. And all of the queens. I don’t think those who have not been through the reality TV machine will ever understand what the experience is like and how that might affect choices and actions in any given moment. I think some of you going to jump to wild assumptions about what I mean by that last sentence. You don’t know. You. Don’t. Know. Sometimes in life you will not know. Sometimes in life you will not understand. Or agree. And if you pick a fight every time that happens you’re going to tucker yourself out real quick.

Recognize that this show is a platform for all of these queens to share their work post-show. It is a stepping stone not an endgame. The crown itself has no bearing on the queens happiness, success or finances. This is evidenced by the fact that you regularly tear the winner to shreds. It is also evidenced by the reality that any queen who gets close to winning $100,000 will make at least $100,000. Anyone who thinks a queen’s bookings will suffer just because she didn’t win is deluded.

How about you all just focus on being wildly appreciative that these people have chosen to share themselves and their artistry with you, to bare themselves and be vulnerable despite the knowledge that many of you will be extremely cruel in return?

So: Congratulations to Trixie on winning the crown. Congratulations to Shangela for her incredible performance on the show. Congratulations to Kennedy and Bebe on being fierce queens who have earned fans and respect all over the world. Congratulations to the rest of the queens for being brave and fierce enough to share themselves despite the “fans” who attempt to chip away at their self worth. Congratulations to the cast of Season Ten; you are all brave and amazing. I truly hope the “fans” get their act together and see that. Finally, congratulations to the real fans - the ones who actually show love and support. You will always be a part of this family. You will always be loved and appreciated. And by giving, receiving and sharing that love, you will always know what it means to “win.”

DeLaCreme out.

((source))

((the comments about this on reddit are pretty positive and great too))

[bluriginals]

Quest for the Northwest Review

@gfdeepwoods @mysteryseeker

Sorry to keep you waiting!

It's been a long time coming, but it finally came! Not only since the last Blu Blogs (all the way back in March; yikes!) but since I made the promise to provide a review of Quest for the Northwest for a member of its crew (all the way back in June). Now I know what you're thinking and I will tackle these thoughts in order of importance:

1.) What's Quest of the Northwest?

It's the first installment of Gravity Falls: Deep Woods, a fanimatic based series chronicling some adventures in between the normal episodes of Gravity Falls

2.) jesus /march/

yes i know i'm awful

3.) Someone requested you to review their stuff?

i know it's so exciting!

ok maybe none of you were thinking that but i was and it was so flattering and cool and stuffs

4.) Does this have anything to do with the Mystery Hut review?

Only vaguely; MysterySeeker (who I'm assuming is running the project) saw it and thought I was apparently good at this so they asked me to throw some of my...'me' their way.

5.) You promised this review in mid July and it's almost October. What do you have to say about that, HydroPants?

Uuuuuuuuh...there's my ride?

Now in my defense, the first part was released January 16th and the second Hirsch Day and that's a 5 month wait so if anything I'm like, 3 months fashionably early!

Read and weep, boys.

Alright alright, in all seriousness deepest apologies for me taking SO long to get to this. Getting that feedback on time is likely important for whatever you guys are doing with Deep Woods moving forward and it's just plain unprofessional. Really sorry to you all! But enough apologizing, let's get to the review of...

If you haven't already watched it, you should check out part 1 here .

As I stated before, I might not have known about this or looked into without my Mystery Hut review and as I stated there, I was really hyping that project up. Since then I've learned to abolish hopes/dreams and reject happiness, but the thumbnail did give a good first impression. It had a well-crafted quality to it and had been made specifically TO be the thumbnail. This really contributed to my gut feeling that Quest for the Northwest would really be something special. And let me tell you it is DEFINITELY really good. However, rather than talking about it on its own, allow me to spend the entire review judging it not only by its own merits, but by comparing it to Mystery Hut. Naaah, just kidding I'll leave that ol' coot alone. Before I we go in on the story, let's talk about the presentation. Oh my.

Presentation

This presentation is just /amazing/. It's really like taking a step back into Gravity Falls as if nothing's changed (as much as you can in an animatic sense). Starting off with the sound direction, Quest for the Northwest has a distinct element that truly gives it the GF edge any project attempting to emulate the original series needs: the music and audio cues. Brad Breeck's music fills the scenes it needs to and adds to the atmosphere so much. However we aren't dealing with Johnny Test or a 4Kids dub here; the fanimatic knows when to stop talking and deliver some golden silence.

This example from early in the episode where Mrs. Northwest discourages Pacifica from playing with the commoners utilizes sound cues in a way that emphasizes what happens in it

I can't think of a true example of silence off of the top of my head, and it's likely that many scenes use a more lowkey part of the OST, but that works towards the same objective: quieter, more somber moments that appropriately juxtapose the louder ones. It never feels like these silences are too long, awkward, or the result of someone flubbing a line or not being able to think up some dialogue to put in the place of said silence. Speaking of flubbing lines, there's basically none of that: the casting and voice direction are extremely solid. I feel as though some of the people from Mystery Hut (THIS AND TWO THINGS LATER WILL BE ONLY COMPARISONS I SWEAR) may be 'reprising' their roles in Quest for the Northwest (which will hence forth be abbreviated as QftNW) and if they are I gotta give some shout outs to them and the voice director because the delivery and inflections of every line are just right and more. You really get a sense of the emotions and mindset of the characters with every word they say and on the whole the inflections feel very reminiscent of GF. Dipper, Pacifica, Jeff and Preston while not perfect matches are honestly good substitutes and deliver every one of their lines the way you'd imagine the real VAs to. Soos is honestly spot on aside from not being as deep but the real star of the show is Mabel. Though she isn't a near perfect match like Soos, whenever I hear her voice actress speak I can actually feel those Kristen Schaal-isms in her; not just through her dialogue but how she says certain words and just her voice in general. There's even special attention to detail in some places like when Jeff's voice breaks when he's pepper sprayed and in some instances, you can even tell what a character is saying based on their mouth in a single frame.

You can EASILY tell that Jeff's saying something with an 'L' sound, and while you don't have to mark little things like this in boards unless they're really important, I appreciate it a lot.

The only gripes I have with the sound (and they're admittedly minor) is that I feel like Part 1 is a bit quiet, even at max volume and Snadger's hiss audio in part 2 is loud. Like, if you have it at 100% prepare to get that faux jumpscare chord feel. But these really are nothing in comparison to the great sound in this fanimatic.

Upon my first viewing of the episode I was blown away at how well-crafted and consistent the art was. I could NOT believe that there were that many boarders; 4 at most. But I found myself shocked to see a plethora of different artists names flash on screen during the credits (16 to be exact; 4 times as many as appeared). On the second viewing, I was definitely able to distinguish more than 4 styles, but 16 is still WAY more than I'd ever guess. It's just so consistently good, on-model, and expressive, its many artists are able to carry it together with pride.

This shot in particular is really pretty, so I wanted to highlight it :)

Sure there'd be occasional hiccups like Dipper and Mabel's heads being squarshed in some frames or the first portion of Jeff's beast slaying plot but you still get a genuine sense of effort from each and every frame/artist and (Mystery Hut comparison incoming) not ONCE does it ever stoop the low, haphazard inconsistencies and disregard of the Gravity Falls artstyle as Mystery Hut did. In fact, it goes so much further beyond that. Just...take a look.

(Nearly) Every. Single. Face in this project oozes with the Falls. I absolutely loved it and it was a pure joy to look at. Not a second goes where something isn't moving and it's in the best way: each frame is logical and compliments the one preceding and succeeding it. I can honestly imagine so many of these frames transitioning smoothly from one to the other in animation and this level of attention to detail and desire to express a genuine Gravity Falls experience is commendable to say the least.

They remembered dramatic, shading using close-ups and in some shots they even bothered to put in unique towns people that fit the style! Cute!

But the biggest thing of all that propels this to new heights artistically has got to be the understanding of the characters.

QftNW has such a great understanding of Gravity Falls' characters not only in how they talk but equally as important: how their physical body works in relation to other objects as well as themselves.

Dipper's (audience) right hand has such a nice depth to it and the way Pacifica's hair bends on the bench looks like it jumped straight outta the show.

But there's on example that stood out to me above the rest. Just...look at this beautiful  8 frame scene where Dipper and Mabel take off their Pacifica costumes.

Forgot how tumblr shrinks wide images like this, so here: bask in the full glory of these frames!

Whoever drew this is my Super Star, the 1-Up Boy (or Girl). It's on model, it understands how the individual 'pieces' of Dipper and Mabel work (hair, arms, face etc.), it has touches like their changing facial expressions and Dipper turning his hat forward. I just can't do it justice this scene is so /good/. MysterySeeker when you get to this, please give that boarder special shout outs. I love this scene so much aaaaaaaaaah

Alright that's enough gushing about the glorious art and sound. There's one last remark I'd like to make about the presentation. The episode managed to get in a special monochromatic full version of theme which is great, but in the end the episode totaled out to /27/ minutes. Now, if that's what they want to go with that's absolutely fine. Nothing wrong with having your Gravity Falls fan series run a couple over the normal limit. But if they really want to go for that Gravity Falls feeling they should cut 5 of those minutes.

Story and Characters

Quest for the Northwest's basic premise is that Dipper and Mabel decide to go out to a parade being held to honor the election of the holder of the best running gag, Tyler Cutebiker. However upon seeing a miserable Pacifica in the parade Dipper and Mabel (mostly Mabel) callout to her and try to get her away from the parade and by extent her parents. All isn't right however as with Jeff's role as leader being questioned due to his inability to find a new queen, the town's precious princess may find herself in more trouble than she's bargained for. The basic story definitely shows lots of promise, particularly in the idea of having an episode where the Pines twins both interact with Pacifica. But before we really go in on that let me talk about the structural elements that hold up this story.

As stated in the presentation section, the visuals here are on point and they really propel the episode forward with great action based gags, both subtle and dynamic. Jeff rubbing his eyes after being pepper sprayed and Preston's reactions to all of the filthy commoners being near him (Soos especially) added to the scene SO much.

Don't touch me, PEON. And on a similar note...

Don't touch me phone, PEON.

The characters aren't just moving through each scene as lifeless dolls, occasionally making flanderized quips that are supposed to remind you "YUP THAT'S THEM". That wasn't uh, that wasn't supposed to be a Mystery Hut sneak diss either I just wanted to say that the characterization is great. Speaking of that third Mystery Hut diss, it's finally time to get to it as we talk about the characterization. Mabel's characterization is MILES better than it is in Mystery Hut. There she was a spouting faux-Mabel non-sequiturs and generally being a flanderized nuisance. But here? Her dialogue isn't substanceless; it's endearing, and smart, and feels SO Mabel. And being that this is QftNW, it's not just her dialogue. It's her actions. How she moves and the things she does: licking the beard hair twice (and ultimately eating some at the very end), her "balloon sense" in scene 2, picking the cotton candy off the bench when they hear people calling for Pacifica and then sliding next to them when they look behind the wall.

It culminates into making Mabel feel well represented and because she's one of our two protagonists, it's pretty important to have her on point. And that my friends is that LAST you'll hear of Mystery Hut for the rest of this review. Probably ;)

I think that Pacifica was handled really well too! Some fans would've had her be a complete 180 from her appearance in Northwest Mansion Mystery, having her be all nice, and kind, and forcing Padippica down our throats in a way that feels unnatural, Pacifica still retains a lot of her personality. She's clearly only JUST learning to be better person and it's the gradual type of character development that I love to see.

Pacifica says "It's ok, most people are terrible at what they do." and not only is this a funny line but it feels perfect for a kid who's only steadily learning to drop her rich girl tendencies.

Sort of reminds me of the Steven Universe episode "Beta" where Peridot is showing Amethyst and Steven the Beta Kindergarten and making remarks about the gems that emerged there that really bring out her more Homeworld-like habits.

Jeff's pretty well-handled as well. Due to him being more of a recurring character in the series he's got nothing that really stands out but he's still well represented, especially in relation to the show. Basically all of his dialogue feels right at home with him. Though there is one action he takes in the story that particularly stands out, and that's retrying the Norman scheme from Tourist Trapped. I know this seems like the type of thing that'd I normally whine about and call forced reference/fan-pandering, but the way it goes about is such a unique parallel to Dipper and Mabel's encounter. The Gnomes are NOT the smartest creatures in Gravity Falls, so it makes perfect sense for them to double down on such a make-shift plot. It further expands on the parallel by having the plot fall apart very plainly. Him stumbling over his words, dropping the hand, and just coming on too strong coupled with Pacifica not buying it at any point and eventually fighting her way out is a serves as a smart subversion of Mabel's encounter with them, helps advance the plot in a unique direction. On the topic of throwbacks that brings us to Dipper and well...

For the most part I believe Dipper's also himself. At first I was thinking he was being a bit of a downer but honestly, it fits Dipper to be resistant against things like going to the parade. Him not thinking about Pacifica's huge milestone in Northwest Mansion Mystery (NMM) where she disobeys her parents is a little bit harsh but things really go over the edge when after the twins manage to get Pacifica off the float, Pacifica mentions that while appreciative, she doesn't want to be caught with them for fear of more punishment from her parents. Dipper replies to this by saying "See Mabel, she hasn't changed at all. And here I thought you were gonna start trying to break the world's worst chain".

Barring the fact that reprising the "world's worst chain" in the context of demeaning Pacifica comes off as absolutely brutal seeing as the line was such a landmark part of NMM (it was the thing that made Pacifica finally consider a change of heart), it feels very forced. Dipper didn't need to say something that cut so deep AGAIN especially after Pacifica saved ALL of their lives not out of obligation but out of wanting to do the right thing. And that's just the world's worst chain part; the fact that he says she hasn't changed at all? Way too much. And considering that she's just doing something as little as running away from a boring parade and not tricking Dipper into exorcising a ghost it was really unwarranted for him to go nuclear on her like that. Honestly this is the only instance of bad writing in this entire fanimatic. Like, Pacifica not wanting to consistently disobey her hella strict parents again makes sense. Has the Fear of God never been put into this boy by Mr. and Ms. Pines?

But don't let this minor blemish make you think it's NO good. The episode's writing is honestly SO good. And it's referential/injoke humor definitely isn't a hit or miss in most cases. You know, based on the fact that I gave 1 hit example and 1 miss example; I didn't want it to come off as QftNW being a crapshoot when it comes to reference jokes. It's very subtle but you can catch things like 'Dope Dog', an obvious reference to Cool Cat who we all probably know from YMS, Pizza Guy being jibbed YET again,

Shout outs to whoever boarded the first montage too btw

Alex Hirsch's face being on the TV and name somewhere else in the episode, the former Mayor's honorary statue and the fact that it has 2012 on it,

You guys KNOW they would've had to vague the date if this was a real episode.

And best of all Pacifica's response at the end when asked if she wants to visit the shack. If you don't get it, listen to how she responds to Dipper. You'll get it. QftNW is just plain good at balancing the worlds of emulation and fandom. I salute you fair fanimatic.

As you could guess from how much I've gushed about the characterization, the writing is a joy. The jokes are very much Gravity Falls and from start to finish this episode is doing its best to give you that feel when you have GF.

On first viewing this had me /ROLLING/, oh my god. What a great way to start off an episode.

And it keeps this kind of stuff up throughout its entire run. BTW shout outs to one of the guys who said "MS. NORTHWEST" while they were looking for her. This is so random but the way one of them said it honestly sounded like professional VA work. He knows who he is. Alright that's enough goofing around. How do I feel about the actual plot, the meat of the story separated from the writing/art framework? As stated before I truly believe this to be a great fanimatic. Its production efforts are high for a fanmade project and you can just tell lots of love and heart were put into every aspect of it. But if I'm being quite honest, I found the actual plot sort of weak. The writing itself was top notch so that did it a lot of favors but if you take a step back, you realize that not a lot really happens. Like, a lot HAPPENS but not a lot of substance happens. The episode deals with two primary conflicts: Pacifica trying to take a break from her daily routine and avoid her parents and Jeff trying to prove he's a worthy leader. Both are handled in a pretty straight forward manner: Pacifica avoids her parents all day and worries how they'll react, Dipper and Mabel come up with a valid excuse less than half way through the episode; Jeff tries to kidnap Pacifica, fails, the kids pity him and help him out by doing the classical costume farce and all is well. It's lacking the strong character plot (ex. Mabel questioning if she is a good person in Last Mabelcorn, Dipper confessing his crush in Into the Bunker, Dipper and Mabel wondering if Stan is really what he seems in well, Not What He Seems, Soos learning how to deal with girls/the fear of being alone in Soos and the Real Girl etc.) present in nearly every Gravity Falls episode. Even the segments within Bottomless Pit! and Little Gift Shop of Horrors managed to place some significant character plots that easily feel just as strong as the real episode's despite them not actually happening. Here minor conflicts arise, but they're never anything that hard to surmount or quite frankly, that interesting. After letting it sit with me for a while, I realized that

1.) The episode has two montages. Not that having two is some abominable sin they should've avoided at all costs, in fact montage 1 is great for giving an abridged showcase of the kids day together. Montage 2 on the other hand doesn't exist to parallel montage 1 (showing an advancement/decline), or show anything of interest in general. It's just your normal training montage. It has funny jokes but it seems sort of excessive. Montage 2's results are a total flop and result in them having to think up a b plan. The fact that montage 2 is ultimately not important isn't even lampshaded, in fact it's more played as unfortunate with how Jeff nearly cries. I'm not saying that montage 2's failure should've been played for laughs, especially since in episode the failure is punctuated by a gag, just that in the end montage 2 was a bit cliche and unnecessary.

2.) Pacifica's presence in the second half feels sort of extra and as if it's there primarily so we can get more Dipper, Mabel, Pacifica relationship-growing-time fanservice. Which is not to say that is at ALL a bad thing (the bit in the last scene before the credits scene is SO cute and not forced at all I love it), but when you're trying to write a good story, particularly a Gravity Falls one, having a strong central conflict to carry the episode is pretty imperative. One easy example I can think of off of the top of my head? There could've easily been parallels drawn between Jeff and Pacifica and the pressure from the obligations they have to their families. Jeff on his only simply isn't that compelling a character and making him into a compelling character that late into Gravity Falls isn't that beneficial. He isn't locked out of development due to being a recurring character, but having him have his own little arc that ultimately contributes to Pacifica's (a major character) would've been a better choice. There's obviously more than one way to do things, but that's something I thought would've worked out well.

3.) The title "Quest for the Northwest" doesn't reflect the episode's contents. Jeff's easily apprehended by Pacifica so there's no such quest to speak of and it isn't a clever bait-and-switch title like "The Ricklantis Mixup" because Pacifica defeating the gnomes on her own isn't the big bait of the episode, it's just a nice little parallel to Dipper and Mabel's encounter. Had it actually been about Pacifica being kidnapped and Dipper and Mabel going on a quest to save her whilst say, Pacifica decides to help Jeff out of pity after she breaks free on her own, eventually coming into her own as someone who's taking the first steps to being a better person, THEN it could've been called Quest for the Northwest. It would have the double meaning of not only Dipper and Mabel being on a quest to save Pacifica (the Northwest), but Pacifica being dealt her own 'quest' in helping Jeff out. But that's just me spitting out a specific theoretical I liked, there's tons of ways the title "Quest for the Northwest" could've been justified. The episode's plot just isn't one of them.

4.) Last and certainly least, the black eyebrowed Gnome who's clearly trying to usurp Jeff really isn't relevant. He's shown as the leader of this growing insurgence, but all he really does is talk mad game in two scenes and get absolutely destroyed in an admittedly funny scene. He didn't need to be his own character and the gnomes dissatisfaction could've been more properly represented with a mob rather than a man...urr, gnome. But really, this is a drop in the bucket compared to the bigger issues presented in #1 and #2. Had those been more refined this would just be an outlier rather than a cherry on top of a problem cake. A single layer problem cake mind you, but still a problem cake.

But enough of the negative: in the end Quest for the Northwest is a satisfying episode that captures the soul of Gravity Falls magnificently well despite its faults. An absolute must see for Gravity Falls fans, and if you for some reason read this review without watching it, check it out part 1 and part 2 here. There's plenty to see both writing, visual and gagwise that I didn't spoil, and honestly? Not seeing it is a disservice if you like Gravity Falls a lot. Definitely worth a watch. 8/10; MUCH better than Sonic Lost World.

th-that's my thing now guys. any time i give a number rating it's also quantitatively compared to sonic lost world u

Anyway enough of me babbling, if you enjoyed this fanimatic like I, you should check out their tumblr page for updates on whatever they have in the works . Pretty sure the next episode coming is being titled "Deep-Rooted Misunderstanding" so look out for that, cause I know I will! And while you're here, you might as well check out some of the rest of the this blog and see if you find anything you like. Stay tuned because next week, we're going to be talking about Sonic Forces and/or Mario Odysse-- on second thought let me not get back on my bullshit and promise next week, see you guys in june lmfao

[pinklinksandkinks]

Meredy Incarnation AU: Blue Pegasus

Age: 21 Dress: She tends to wear a very chic, flattering red dress with a black leather jacket and belt and heeled boots. Her headwraps tend to change with the flow of the “fashions” but are some variation of red and black to match her outfit. Her fingernails are always painted, she wears makeup to highlight her features and uses jewelry as her favorite accessory. Personality: Cheerfully cunning but overly excitable and sometimes loses her cool because of it. She does put up a Dumb Blonde front fairly often because she’s well aware she’s good looking, so she’s also mildly manipulative and extremely flirty. However, she also has a bad habit of going through guys “like tissues” according to Jenny. Relationships: Jenny is her mentor and closest friend, the Trimens are her big brothers, Ichiya is an honorary uncle and she views Master Bob as the best guildmaster in the world. When FT comes back, she re-kindles her friendship with Juvia (and Gray) instantly. Lyon is the easiest mark she’s ever seen and she can’t resist teasing him. She and Sherry are on good terms but she hates Chelia. Magic: While Meredy is part of LS, she’s registered as a non-practicing mage and doesn’t go on missions. However, while her good looks make her an excellent model, it’s her magic that makes her the perfect host. Her large, specially customized bangles cover both wrists completely and mask her magical signature. 

Amazing Art: Here and Here and Here

The prickly sensation didn’t go away, making the man feel itchy and ill-at-ease, which was not a new feeling in this guild, but it was definitely more intense since Jenny and her protege returned.

“Kindly desist,” he finally said, turning slowly, with dignity, to face the young woman leaning over the bar with her chin in her hand. Leisurely, she twirled a lock of hair on her index finger, emerald eyes sparkling with mirth and intense focus that made him squirm internally and straighten externally, “From staring.”

“Studying.”

“Pardon?” Freed’s eyebrow went up, not expecting the answer, eyes fixating on the strange, glowing runes wrapping around his wrist. The matching set was blatantly just across from him, rotating with each twirl, lazy and sensual.

“I’m not staring; I’m studying you. You’re fascinating, Freed Justine, and I want to know more about you. Don’t you know the secret to being a good host is knowing what makes people tick?”

Finger twirling, lips pursed, she considered the offer for a long moment before breaking into a charming smile that took Cana by surprise.

“I’d love to have my fortune told!” leaning forward she added happily, “I had no idea Fairy Tail’s mages dabbled in such things!”

Brow scrunched and face darkening, Cana shuffled the deck, hard, before putting the cards out with excess flourish before ordering, “Take two.”

Face shifting from annoyance to apprehension, Cana ordered a reshuffle, and then another reshuffle, making Meredy’s face cloud over with worry.

“Ha! Now who believes in such things?” Cana smirked at the pink haired woman earning a sheepish grin and an apology.

To say the man was uncomfortable was a gross understatement, as he was backed against the wall (flat against it really) and doing his best to look unaffected by the fact a woman in a really skimpy bikini was hitting on him.

“Do you - must you - why are you in a bikini?” he finally managed to get out, nodding internally at how reasonable and calm the question sounded, ignoring the most minuscule squeak at the end as she pressed against him to get a closer look at his hidden face.

“What… oh, Jenny and I are going to that new waterpark with the guys. Do you like it? I said it makes me look fat, but Hibiki assured me that’s not the case. But I really feel like I should ask a stranger’s opinion because, well, you know how older brothers are, right? I mean, it’s so sweet, but he doesn’t look at me that way, you know? You look like a man who has a good eye…”

Jellal had two good eyes in addition to the knowledge that Ultear did as well, and there was only one safe way to answer this question.

“Hey! Come back!”

Natsu’s blank look didn’t change despite her best attempts, and frankly, Meredy had never been good at pursuit of a man who didn’t seem interested in the sale. However, no one could begrudge her a little cheating lubricant in the middle of a battle right? It was a battle…

“Okay, I give up,” she smiled flatteringly, the small, glowing circle growing on her wrist. Natsu froze mid-grin, eyes widening, before dramatically dropping to the ground clutching his stomach and howling in desolation.

Brushing off her hands, she smirked, “Guys don’t know true pain. I expected better, to be honest.”

“I don’t see why Natsu is being such a big baby about it. It’s not like she stabbed herself in the leg or anything. Now that hurt like hell. What could possibly be worse than that?” Gray grumped, leaning over the balcony railing with his chin in his hand and an unsympathetic scowl on his face.

The two older women of Team Natsu, however, had expressions of elated horror and deep sympathy, subconsciously rubbing their own bodies soothingly.

“Well Gray,” Lucy began when a particularly vicious howl emitted from the arena and Natsu thrashed forcing her to wince, “Ooo, Erza, can you imagine fighting a battle right now?”

“Indeed. It is a nearly impossible task, but I believe she has used it to her advantage quite nicely,” Erza replied before adding off-handedly, “Of course, it would not be nearly so effective on another woman.”

“What… hey, what are you two even talking about?” Gray straightened, not liking he was missing out on the joke. “What’s that chick doing to Natsu? Isn’t she just hungry or some shit?”

“Just… hungry…” the scandal that saturated Lucy’s voice made the last word rise a bit in outrage, “Just hungry, he says.”

Erza’s look never wavered but she pointed out in fairness, “It is a plausible pain for Natsu.”

Wendy looked between the three and asked, “Is that what I think it is?”

Nod.

The small Dragonslayer paled and squeaked, “Oh.”

Silence fell over them as Gray digested that little bit of information, his face paling to match Wendy’s and his eyes wide. Swallowing, he ventured, “So it… hurts that much…huh.”

Down in the stadium, Natsu’s wails had finished as he fetal curled into whimpers and Meredy dusted off her hands,  “Guys don’t know true pain. I expected better, to be honest.”

“I think you’ve got something in your eye…” a slow wink, pursed lips, fluttery eyelashes, it should have been obvious what was going on yet the man looked clueless. Just how old was he that he didn’t know when someone was flirting with him? Still, she was undeterred because he was hot and surprisingly sweet, in a doofy sort of way, not to mention she liked a challenge, “Never mind, that’s just your sparkle~”

Pausing, she took a moment to appreciate that all of him sparkled, finally taking the hint and lighting up with confidence and… sparkles. Real sparkles. Reaching forward, her fingers brushed towards them wondrously, before catching herself.

“Tell me when heaven wants you back because the sky seems to be missing a twinkle~”

Puffing up, he muttered, “Well, I am a star…”

“You know,” the young woman mused, staring openly, “You are quite pretty. Oh, no, not like that! So suspicious… or is it hopeful?” Tongue-clicking playfully, she leaned up to rest her elbow on the other woman’s shoulder, “I was just admiring your hair; how silky and smooth it is.”

Kagura expression flickered with confusion at the compliments and casual touching as she tried to duck beneath the arm without much success.

“Oh, and a bit of color would rosy up your complexion nicely,” Meredy gushed with a friendly pinch to the cheek. “Jen, what do you think?”

“I think there’s enough women in Blue Pegasus without your recruitment, Dee.”

Meredy blinked, thick lashes brushing against her cheeks rapidly, at the large hand thrust beneath her pert nose.

Curiosity made her tip her chin back, way back, to look the owner in the face. Totally serious, he wiggled his fingers under her nose to remind her of the task at hand.

“Sit, sit!” she gestured flamboyantly, tugging his muscular arm and earning a dark glare from the woman in the green dress. “Give me your hand. Oh, lovely! Ever, why didn’t you say your boyfriend has such gorgeous hands? I bet they can do magical things~”

Smirking at the nose tweaking of the other woman, she went to work on Elfman’s nails with precise and practiced strokes and snips.

Gray and Natsu were hovering slightly to the side, huddled together, suspiciously shuffling their feet and muttering. Meredy ignored them, humming as she finished with a pat to the hand.

“Isn’t that like… girly?” Gray finally offered, and Meredy arched a well-manicured brow, “There’s nothing girly about good hygiene. You’re confusing it with godly, which is understandable. There is something divine about a perfect manicure, right Elfman?”

“MANLY!”

“Right, so who’s next for a man-icure? On the house, so you boys can realize what it’s like to truly slay and feel fabulous while doing it.”