#expectaance

[dykevanny]

I think will cares about his kids he’s just fucked up and strange about the concept of love and control and all that. Objectively he’s terrible to them but like . Abusers can still love their victims while abusing them especially if they don’t consider what they’re doing to be abuse.

[folkdances]

I HATE MY JOB

[dearanakin]

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode IV

Warning: mentions of grieving, injury, cursing

Word count: 3k

Previous chapter | Read on Wattpad

*

Anakin:

4 years earlier

I was standing right in front of his lifeless body. His head right next to it. My trembling hands were both holding crossed lightsabers; his and mine. I've been wanting to kill him since the day that he almost left me to die after Padmé gave birth to Luke.

Holding back the warm tears that were threatening to fall, I felt my breathing become shallow and the air felt condensed. Now I was facing Palpatine dead, but the feeling of relief didn't hit me. That feeling I was longing for, for almost three years, wasn't there.

All I sensed was a heaviness in my chest. For all I know, this is what I wanted. I didn't have a plan to escape his ship, so I had to be quick before the imperial army came after me. I was on a mission all by myself, it was something I wanted to do alone.

No one else would be there for me anyway, not even Obi-Wan. But I haven’t been in contact with him ever since Padmé died. That was when he decided he didn't want to go along with my idea, the one that was supposed to make me feel better.

It was two losses at once. Obviously, losing her was the most traumatic event in my life. But then right after that, what happened between me and Obi-Wan after spending years on his side left a hole in my heart.

And it was never healed. For a while, after that, I would sense his grief even from a long distance. But then he shut that down for me. I haven't felt his presence or sensed his emotions in a long time, and it was probably for the best.

I let go of Palpatine's lightsaber and kept a tight grip on mine. I took a few steps back, calculating what route I should take to exit the ship. By now, the army is most likely aware of what happened. The loud sirens went on and I could hear a lot of shuffling from afar.

My boots walked heavily across the room, and for the first time I noticed how my knees were wobbling. "Damn it", I mutter under my breath.

The adrenaline kept my mind balanced, but for some reason my body didn't want to collaborate. I forced myself out of the door, facing the fresh air that roamed through the corridor. There were soldiers in formation already, waiting for something to happen.

I was quick to deviate the blasts from the pistols with my lightsaber, using my metal hand for leverage as well. There were many doors around me, but I didn't risk my chances getting in.

They trapped me when I was getting closer to the hangar. I guess my anger was at its highest level, because I felt myself shoving all of them back with my Force and knocking them down.

I hurried to the first ship I laid my eyes on and hopped on it, turning on the gears. I flew out of there in a matter of seconds.

When all the adrenaline wore out, I started to feel numb and it felt like I was going to pass out. I took deep breaths and tried to stretch my body in order to keep myself awake.

Bringing my hands to my eyes, I noticed how hard they were shaking. Usually I don't feel the sensitivity on the robotic limb, but my flesh fingertips were tingling and then it hit me.

"Shit", I breathed in dread. I pulled the engine on autopilot and hoped for the best.

I was having a panic attack.

I also didn't have R2-D2 to help me fly back to Coruscant. Much to my dislike, I was inside a small ship with the smallest airflow.

I woke up disoriented, my mouth was dry and my head throbbing in pain. I had no idea how I was still roaming around outer space. I looked at my hands, noticing they were steady, as well as my fingertips that weren't numb anymore.

I took a deep breath and managed the engine to finally go back home. I lost track of time there.

I landed on the hangar and rushed to finally see Luke. He was starting to walk and could speak a few words completely already. I couldn't handle the thought of leaving him for more than I intended to.

Arriving at the Jedi Temple, I walked in my dormitory expectantly looking for him. He was sitting on the floor with one of the nursery Droids playing with him, while C-3PO watched out the window.

The three of them noticed my presence and glanced at me. I walked toward the child and pulled him in a tight hug.

"No need to worry anymore, son. Dad is here".

-

It's been a long way since then. Now I have to be more careful around Luke, and I need to reassure him a lot of things. When I go on missions, he gets worried a lot even though he doesn't feel the anxiety of what could happen.

I stand my ground each time, promising myself I always get back safe and alive. One of these days, I swear I'm going to go into cardiac arrest because of that feeling.

When I got back to my loft after training, I found him nuzzled into my pillow on my bed. R2-D2 scanning the room for further threats. Having a kid these days isn't easy anymore. After what happened four years ago, they kept running after me, looking everywhere.

It took them a while to give up on it, but I always had this feeling in the back of my head that they were always one step ahead, ready to attack. And I never feared for my life, I feared for Luke's. Cal insisted I should recruit him to become a Jedi.

It didn't cross my mind, because I didn't want him to become something I didn't expect him to. I didn't want him to become someone like me. I know how it is inside my head. I want to kill people all the time, the vengeful feeling that doesn't ease. My body is always on alert, I can't trust people anymore.

My conscience never let me step into the dark side, thinking of Luke. If it wasn't for him, I might as well have done that right after I lost Padmé. Wouldn't even have second guessed it for the matter.

In the shower, I pondered about that; like I used to do every night before sleep. Was it really worth it? Was it going to make me feel at peace? It was a hard decision. I leaned my forehead against the tile and inhaled sharply. If only I could see the future, I would've made a decision by now.

The next day I was feeling better, even though the painkillers were masking most of the pain. I dropped my boy off to his classes and headed to the tech room, still in need of having a conversation with (Y/N).

3PO asked me to forget it and let that go, telling me I should be more patient. See, I had an issue with letting things go, and I know it's my biggest flaw. But I just couldn't. I had a few conversations with Cal before and he told me doing therapy would help me a lot. Or even, meet Yoda a few times to help me get through those issues.

But I never did, never thought I should anyway. My stubborn ass wins over my conscience all the time.

I entered the room looking for her and saw her standing in front of an opened drawer. She looked distracted while holding what seemed like a lightsaber grip. My eyes scanned the piece slowly, and then I realized something.

It was Obi-Wan's. My stomach dropped and my throat tightened immediately. It was triggering to think about it, to think about him. To remember him even from the slightest piece of an object. I didn't notice when she turned to face me, her face becoming pale. She still had the piece between her small fingers.

I looked between the grip and her hesitant eyes for a few seconds and cleared my throat. "That's- It is Obi-Wan's?", I heard myself asking in a whisper.

She glanced at it and stared back at me. It was hard to describe her emotions, but it felt like she was probably just as confused. "Y-yes. They found it lying around after he left Coruscant".

I nodded. It couldn't have been long after our last encounter. He left Coruscant right after that, but I wonder whatever happened to the entire lightsaber. I couldn't breathe but didn't want to make it seem evident, so I took a long inhale and murmured "ok".

It took me a few seconds to snap back to reality, watching as she put the grip back in the drawer and closed it. I almost forgot why I was there in the first place.

When I noticed Luke's skyhopper on her table, I rolled my eyes and grimaced. Now there were two things I wanted to talk about with her. I huffed behind her, making her snap her eyes at me.

"What is my son's toy doing on your table? How many times do I have to make myself clear?", I try to be civil and not scare her right off.

(Y/N) glanced between the toy and me, her mouth agape while trying to find words. "They had to leave and asked me to fix it. But I know how you strictly made sure you didn't want me to".

She let her guard up the entire time, making sure she was standing a few feet away from me. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and raised my chin in superiority.

"Good thing, because I don't want you to get a finger near anything related to me or my boy anymore". My voice came out as a snarl, her body language shifted.

I took a step forward and she took a step back. "And while we're at it. Let me tell you something about another thing. This shit that happened to me was your fault".

(Y/N) shook her head and hit her back on the counter behind her. "I'm sorry, I- We did everything we could. The wires were almost molten".

I look down and chuckle in disbelief. You could tell she was beginning to feel scared of me. "No, you see - that's plain bullshit. Because I know how you are all very skilled and when we ask for a deadline, we expect it on time".

I closed the small gap between us, towering over her while my eyes intimidated her. She was reluctant to look back at me, so I made sure she did. I gripped her jawline forcefully and pulled her head up. "Look at me when I talk to you", I rasped.

"You know what happened because of your fucking incompetence. I could've died there, and then what? My son doesn't have a mother, you want him to become an orphan?".

My robotic fingers dug into her cheekbones, she was flinching really hard under my touch.

(Y/N) started to cry and I thought it was pathetic. She has been working around for ages, she should've known I don't have an easy temper at all.

She shut her eyes tightly and whimpered, my fingertips leaving marks on her skin. "I'm really sorry, Master Skywalker. I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to".

I was still towering over her, my forehead barely touching hers when I felt both of her hands grip around my metal wrist. "But you did anyway!".

My breathing was uneven, I felt a sudden headrush.

It was the trigger. Just the thought of Obi-Wan made me feel uneasy.

"Look at me!", It took her by surprise how loud my voice came out and it startled her. She immediately looked me in the eye and I pointed a flesh finger at her. "This is the last time I warn you. Stay the fuck away from me and my son".

Suddenly I heard the door burst and felt Cal's presence. "Hey, Skywalker! What the hell, man?", He sprinted to where we were standing and gripped my arms, pulling me away from her.

I was still staring at her dead. My bloodshot eyes were burning her skin from the eye contact as I watched her move her feet away from me. (Y/N) left the room within seconds.

I looked over Cal and closed my hands into fists. This always feels like someone is testing me. I could just lift my hand and punch him in the face, but I held back the urging.

"What was that?", His scowling tone echoed through the room. He pointed his finger at me, his nose was flaring in anger as well. "Don't ever touch her again or I'll take it to the Council".

Fuck the Council, for God's sake. I'm a fucking Master, not an apprentice anymore. If anything, I could own them if I wanted to.

I watched as he turned on his back and marched out the door, leaving me in a raging state. Next thing I knew, I was flipping a table across the place watching it break into several pieces.

Dude comes in thinking he was a knight in shining armor, what a lame character. I'm pretty sure this close friendship of theirs means something else for him but that didn't interest me anyway.

I let myself out and took my time to simmer down until the meeting happens. This time we were going to see General Grievous and I wasn't very pleased with the idea, but I carried on with it anyway.

When we all sat down on the desk, I shared the news with the others. They still had no idea what the new mission was about.

"General Grievous? That scumbag?", The man from across the table asks in surprise.

Did I stutter?

"Yes. We need to do some agreements that became pending", I nod. This wasn't exactly fun, I have a very strong desire to kill him as well.

Cal was always one giving ideas and usually plans escaping routes. This time he was just sitting in his chair with his arms crossed. His forehead was wrinkly and he had a pissed look.

He wouldn't dare to look at me and I hated him at this moment as well. So I cleared my throat and spoke up again.

"We're gonna need a few people back outside his trade federation cruiser and watch out. I was thinking of bringing Artoo as well" They all seemed to agree with the idea. The red head shuffled in his seat, not saying a word.

I try to disguise the disappointment but I expected this reaction after what happened earlier. I had to push him to the limit, because one way or another I needed him.

"Anything in mind, General Kestis?" I ask loud enough for him to shoot his head up and look at me. Still waiting for a response, I raise an eyebrow.

"No, you're leading the assignment, General Skywalker" He says in a snide tone. "I'm sure you're going to nail it".

Maybe the other men noticed his different demeanor, because I could sense they were looking at each other in complete confusion.

He would never not speak up. He liked to give advice and think through the whole situation, usually we would always have a plan B if needed.

I still wasn't satisfied, so I went through with it anyway. "Are you sure? You always have advice for us".

The others stared at him, watching as Cal stood still in the same position. He shook his head and twitched his lips in denial. I'm gonna fucking choke him.

"Not this time. I guess you boys have brilliant ideas though" He looked back at them and gave them the most fake smile I've ever seen.

Cal is all smiles and hugs, but I know when he's being sarcastic.

I didn't have anything else in mind. I didn't want to push it harder, I know I was losing my temper and it was a waste of time in all honesty.

I decided to ask someone else about strategies and we ended up spending the entire afternoon discussing them. My blood boiling every time I looked at the knight in shining armor watching as he stared blankly at all of us.

My wish this moment was to dismiss him and ask him to take his ass out of his face.

This is going to be a difficult mission and I was dreading the worst already.

I call out to Cal while looking through the papers, the pen still wrapped around my fingers. I feel him interrupting his tracks and freezing on his spot turning on his heels. He doesn’t say a word, waiting for me to speak again.

"Do you have anything to say now they're all gone?" I ask, eyes still focused on the desk.

I hear him sigh and hold his hips with both hands. "No, Skywalker. I already made that sure".

For the first time after a few minutes, I raise my head and give him a sarcastic smile without showing my teeth. He didn't seem fazed at all. I get up from my chair and walk toward him, still holding my pen, my hands behind my back.

"Look, we both know you're a very dedicated man and we also both know you don't wanna fuck this job up" I tilt my head to the side and lower my eyebrows.

He still didn't feel intimidated. That was a good thing, after all. I showed how he could stand up for himself, even though I'm the most insufferable person hanging around.

He gives me a smirk and closes his arms against his chest, raising his chin up. "Ah, when have I ever fucked something up, Master?".

Cal almost never fires back like this, but we weren't on good terms.

He reaches his hand upon my shoulder and gives it a tight squeeze, gripping my shoulder blade. "I can't tell you how much I'm willing to help on this mission. But not because of you. Right now, I wish I could just punch your annoying face".

He doesn't give me time to respond, as he shoves me back in a light push and leaves the room.

I heard the pen between my fingers crack. 

@jackie-on-the-loose @adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @himesuedi @cl0esblogg

[akookminsupporter]

Sometimes it really helps to just take a step back and try to observe things from a neutral and objective perspective. I find that too often, us shippers don’t realise that we let our biases clowd our judgement which makes it impossible to objectively analyze things to get more accurate results. I am thankful that in AYS we get both just Jikook and Vminkook as it really helps shed light into their dynamic more than anything else.

After watching all 3 episodes very closely, I took nitr of a few things that I would like to share.

First of all, I think it is important to consider the fact that Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung are not like a friends and two lovers dynamic that many people like to potray. It’s not your typical “how he would behave with a partner and how he would behave with a friend” and this is mostly because these three guys grew up together kinda like siblings and they have very different dynamics with each other. More importantly, the different duo dynamics have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Taekook’s relationship has nothing to do with Jimin. Jikook’s relationship has nothing to do with Tae and Vmin’s relationship has absolutely nothing to to do with Jungkook. Taekook or Jikook or Vmin could be on good or bad terms and that would have nothing to do with the rest. The reason why I am bringing this up is because I have seem so many shippers compare moments way too much forgetting that Taehyung cuddling Jimin has nothing to do with Jk because these boys have grown up untop of each other (literally) so trust when I say certain touches or moments among them don’t phase the others at all.

Even if Jimin and Jungkook are dating, Taekook’s hangouts wouldn’t phase him at all because he knows that outside of him they have their own friendship and bond. Same with Vmin. So Jk could attend as many premiers as he wanted with Tae or he could go on as many trips as he wanted with him but as long as that wasn’t eating into the time Jimin wanted to spend with him (Jk) it doesn’t matter because Jimin knows that those two have a bond that has nothing to do with him.

I cannot say for sure if any of the members are dating or have ever dated but if I had to bet on any pair, it would be Jikook. The reason for this is that, I cannot remember any single time when it was expected that Jk should be with the one who should be his partner and he was with Tae instead of Jimin. What are some of the times that anyone in the world expecta or thinks that lovers would prioritize being together over anyone else?

We have nights. Friends can hangout as much as they want during the day or even at night but everyone knows that at the end of the day, lovers would want some privacy to spend alone time with each other and it just so happened that out of all members, Jimin and Jungkook prioritized being in each other’s company at this time over anyone else’s. We can argue all we want but I think we all know that there is no way in hell Jk would have chosen to repeatedly go to Jimin when he needed company at night if he was dating any other member of the band.

We have special days like birthdays and couple holidays. I understand that this could be different with certain cultures and might also depend on schedules and stuff like that but there is no way in hell a couple will always prioritize spending days like this with friends instead of each other. I can understand friends meeting to wish each other happy birthday or even being together when one person’s partner is probably not available but what sense does it make to think that while Tae is very available, it is Jimin that Jk repeatly chooses to be with on these days while he says he doesn’t even see Tae at all on these days? Spending bdays and couple holidays isn’t something that is exclusive to couples but couples would always prioritize being together on these days than being with anyone else.

Taekookers can call the content we have watched for over 10 years scripted all they want but Jimin and Jungkook had consistently chosen to be together alotttt! Just watching a shit ton of content will show you how those two were always joined at the hip coming and leaving together, waiting for each other, staying back to watch each other perform etc.

This AYS episode made things clearer to me when it comes to Vminkook dynamics. For taekook, those two have an extremely playful dynamic and it is nice to see that Tae is back to his quirky and playful self. I feel like that is how Taekook connect the most. The have the most chemistry when they are just doing something they think is fun and they really enjoy. Other than this, they don’t seem to vibe very well when it comes to anything else so I can definitely see why after they hang out and have all the fun they can have, they don’t feel the need to hang around each other much. While I can see Jimin and Jungkook just laying by each other’s side in complete silence for hours, just basking in each other’s presence, i unfortunately cannot see this with taekook. There is also this gentle love that Taekook share. A love which definitely isn’t romantic but more filial. Tae enjoys babying Jk sometimes and Jk actually lets him (until he doesn’t want it anymore). They is this endearing love that you feel that they have for each other but it is completely platonic and reads more of siblings love than anything. Jk’s statement about Tae being weak could have come off as a Joke but I feel like that is exactly how he sees Tae so because of that, he sometimes feel this need to reassure him. Like him climbing the wall to reassure tae when Tae was scared to Jump. Jungkook has moments when he sometimes acts like a big brother to Tae because of how he sees him and Jungkook also has moments when he lets Tae act like a big brother to him. There is 100% no romance with taekook and I haven’t been more sure of anything in my life.

With Jikook on the other hand, these two are a bucket of complicated feelings. There is a reason why some of their interactions don’t come off as wholesome as the other duos. This is because unlike the rest, I think Jimin and Jk have always had and shared very complicated feelings for each other and under their circumstances, it is unrealistic for their dynamic ti not give people mixed emotions. You can tell that they really love each other but sometimes too, they seem a little overwhelmed by each other. There is a panic with them that I don’t sense with any other duo. There is this erotic energy in their touches that I don’t see with any other duo. Just compare Taekook’s little cuddle time in episode 3 to whatever it was Jikook were doing in episode 2. One look at Jikook and the way Jungkook liberally touches certain parts of Jimin and even the way they playfight and you can easily tell that those two go beyond what is allowed between friends. You will see Jk cuddle the other members, slap their butts and even caress their butts but with Jimin, there is a little something more than I cannot explain. It is one of those things that you can only understand but don’t really know how to explain. Even in this episode, did you see where Jk aimed his gun? He literally aimed his gun at Jimin’s “front and back” and I can understand the butt because they are butt people but no matter how much I think about it, I cannot imagine Jk aiming his gun at the “front” of any other member. Jimin is his hyung too but the fact that he literally has no fear speaks volumes. Even when Tae joined in shooting jm with water, he mostly aimed at Jimin’s back and sometimes his butt but my man Jk was determined to get the front and back. It’s the same way we have seen him touch Jimin in ways that he doesn’t touch others. He will slip his hands into Jimin’s shirt and caress bare skin, he will lick on Jimin’s bare palms, be would let Jimin bite on his neck etc. There is a familiarity in their touches that goes way beyond what we see that is normal with other members.

Jk would also let all his other 5 hyungs baby him from time to time but he would not let Jimin baby him ever. He would have never let Jimin cuddle him the way Tae did but he would let any other member do it (when he feels like it). It feels like there is this power struggle and he doesn’t want to feel like Jimin’s donsaeng which is ironic because actually likes to baby Jungkook and really tries to but Jk never lets him. Also, there is this authoritative tone that we get from Jk ONLY when it comes to Jimin. His demeanor and tone and facial expressions sometimes with Jimin always give “hunk oppa” while depending on the day, with his other hyungs, you can get baby Jungkook, brat Jungkook or mature Jungkook but we never see “baby Jungkook” with Jimin. I also love the way to Jimin and Jungkook, it’s not just about the playful and fun moments but also those moments where they can just sit together in silence or sit together and talk.

Sometimes relationships between people change and dynamics change too. I feel like somethings changed with Jikook in chapter two, maybe the different schedules, alot of time spent away from each other etc but I still feel like if any of the members have ever had something romantic going on, it was definitely Jikook.

Oh wow, anon, that was incredible. Thanks for sharing such a well-thought-out opinion. I agree with almost everything you said, and I'm sure I couldn't have said it better myself.

Gracias!

[lucuslavigne]

[01:20am] Richard Ríos.

espanhol duvidoso pq nunca estudei somente escutei pq tenho uma amiga venezuelana, thigh riding?, oral (m), size kink?, pet names e muito dengo.

Você estava sentada em uma das coxas do colombiano. Os braços agarrados ao pescoço tatuado enquanto sentia as mãos pesadas de Richard em sua cintura.

“ Está muy bela con esse vestido... ” sussurra em seu ouvido, sequer notando que havia falado no idioma nativo.

“ Richard... ” fala manhosinha, o dengo falando mais alto que você.

“ Fala, princesa. ”

“ Eu senti tanta saudade de você. ” escondeu o rosto no pescoço do Ríos, dando um cheirinho alí.

“ Eu também senti saudade de você, meu bem. ” te puxou para perto.

Amava ficar encolhida em cima de Richard, sentir os braços definidos em volta do seu corpo te deixa molinha, toda relaxada, sem preocupação alguma. Mas era difícil conter o desejo que percorria pelas suas veias quando escutava o colombiano falando espanhol, mesmo que por poucos segundos.

“ Qué sucedió? De repente se quedó en silencio... ” te fez olhar para ele.

“ Não é nada. ” sorriu enquanto movia os quadris devagar.

Richard sorriu. O corpo começando a esquentar.

“ Danada. ” começou a beijar seu pescoço.

O ritmo de seus quadris aumentava gradativamente, te fazendo soltar chorinhos e murmúrios no ouvido de Richard, esse que apenas sorria e te dizia elogios baixinhos enquanto segurava seu corpo.

“ Deixa eu mamar você? ” perguntou enquanto o encarava com olhos pidões.

“ Deixo, minha linda. ” ajeitou seu cabelo.

E você se levantou do colo do mais alto, fazendo um rabo de cavalo desleixado, ficando de joelhos no meio das pernas tatuadas do homem, fazendo carinho nas panturrilhas bonitas.

“ No me provoques, princesa. ” escutou, o sotaque te deixando ainda mais molhada.

Então abaixou a bermuda do uniforme que Richard usava, descendo a boxer em seguida, vendo o pau do colombiano bater logo abaixo do umbigo do mesmo.

“ Você é tão lindo. ” falou apaixonada, beijando a cabecinha do pau do Ríos.

“ Amor... ” te chamou como se estivesse fazendo uma das rezas dele.

“ Hm? ” o encarou.

“ Me mama logo, por favor. ” pediu.

E como você é muito boazinhas, colocou todo o comprimento de Richard em sua boca, usando uma de suas mãos para acariciar as bolas do mesmo.

“ Dios mio... Mierda! ” jogou a cabeça para trás, segurando o colchão fortemente.

Mamava toda bonitinha. Os olhos cheios de lágrimas porque era tão gostoso mamar Richard! A cabecinha do pau batendo bem no fundo da sua garganta, te tirando o fôlego te deixava molhada, sentia sua buceta pingando, então levou sua mão até sua intimidade vestida, brincando com seu clitóris por cima do tecido fino da calcinha.

Seus gemidos enviavam vibrações para o pau do colombiano, esse que tinha a mão direita apoiada em sua cabeça enquanto a mão esquerda buscava apoio. Os gemidos e grunhidos que Richard soltava eram como música para seus ouvidos, te deixavam cada vez mais zonza, procurando pelo seu próprio prazer.

“ Caralho, amor! ” engasgou nos próprios gemidos “ Con-continua... Ah! ” revirou os olhos quando você o chupou mais forte.

Estava motivada a fazer Richard gozar na sua boca, ou até mesmo na sua cara. Você queria a porra de Richard em você, independente de onde fosse.

“ Goza p'ra mim, amor. ” começou a masturbar Richard com sua mão direita.

Usou sua mão esquerda para abaixar as alças do seu vestido, deixando seus peitinhos de fora para Richard poder ver.

“ Amor! ” gemeu enquanto gozava por todo seu rosto e seios.

A respiração de Richard estava acelerada, a cabeça jogada para trás com os olhos fechados, apenas aproveitando o orgasmo recém atingido. Quando abriu os olhos e viu seu rosto e seios cobertos com a porra dele, ele ficou louco.

“ Mi vida, 'cê fica tão linda com a minha porra em você. ” falou, o sotaque te deixando zonza.

Richard te puxou para um beijo carinhoso, segurando seu rosto enquanto te levantava apenas para te puxar pela cintura para mais perto.

“ Quieres bañarte conmigo? ” perguntou com os olhos cheios de expectativa.

“ É claro, amor. ” beijou a bochecha do homem.

De malandro, Richard só tem a cara, por que só você sabe o quanto o mesmo gosta de ser tratado com dengo e chamego.

[insane-brit]

Royalty (Ch. 3)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulamte!Fem!Reader

Chapter Links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Next scheduled Royalty update (Ch 4.): July 30th, 2023.

Tags/Warnings: Enemies to lovers, semi slow burn, dark story/themes, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE (neck snapping, spinal shock), prostitution, attempted coercion, hatred, mentions of IRL Japanese history, slight misogyny, panic attack, blood.

A/N: It's finally here!!! Yay! Thank you all for being patient with me as these last few weeks have been hectic. I just got back from a convention and classes are a lot. I'm also going back through and adding (F/N) to the first two chapters with reader in it since I didn't do that before (I like to use it sparingly). So, be on the lookout for those edits.

I do want to say that I have a schedule planned for this series. Due to my classes and the upcoming semester I will update Royalty every other week to give me time to write properly. Other works such as requests will be filled/posted as they are completed.

Therefore, the next update (Ch. 4) will be on July 30th, 2023!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: 2.6K

The stench of rot permeated through the orifices of every human that he encountered. Death walked hand in hand with them as they decayed with each passing minute. Demons were much the same but dulled. Their aging halted and cells regenerated in a never-ending cycle until their head was severed or body burned. Flaws in his creations and himself.

Muzan’s carefully crafted work, hand-picked from the hundreds and thousands of demons over the ages, the Upper and Lower moons had defects in their own ways. Dismantling the Lower ranks proved to ease the spreading desperation in his subconscious. They were worthless beings. Unfit for their stations and yet the Upper ranks manifested to be just as disappointing as the rest. Failing for centuries at annihilating the family bound to him by blood and unearthing the blossom that would grant him the ability to conquer the sun. The amaryllis.

The only reason they proved to be of use was they kept the Kisatsutai on their toes. Terminating the lives of their most powerful and stripping them of their morality. Despite him wanting to rip the ranks to shreds and gnash his teeth on their bones, they were his strongest. He would let them carry on with their lives if they served and attested themselves to be worthy of the position so graciously bestowed upon them.

Walking the various winding concrete of Yoshiwara was not Muzan’s ideal pastime. Though it was vital to remind his Jūnikizuki where they stood and to oversee the progress, they had made both for themselves and his sake. Situating himself near a wall, his eyes observed the lowly human creatures. Their affairs exhibited in the confines of the residence they were assigned to and sought out. Women and men alike with their sultry gazes swept across the bodies that passed them. Muzan was no exception. The impure burn of their eyes had him clenching his jaw. It was revolting and he would rather them be looking upon him in other ways. They were ignorant, but one day they would understand. If they were capable of such a feat. A soft gasp from behind him had him tense.

“Aren’t you pretty?” A woman brushed the side of his arm before stopping in front of him. A smirk curled on her face as she tilted her head. Eye’s tracing over his features before going lower. 

“I know just the woman who may interest you,” her nail tapped her lower lip. “And she may be interested in return.” 

Muzan glared at her, expression stoic and lips in a tight line. “No, thank you.” 

She pouted, sticking her bottom lip out in a display that left him with a foul taste in his mouth. “Oh, come on. I promise we’re not that bad, and besides,” she drawled, smoothing out the front of her layered kimono. “I can show you a good time if the others don’t meet your expecta-.”

Her skull cracked against the building. Stone dug into her scalp as little pieces opened the skin, blood streamed from the wound. A choked sound bubbled up from her throat as Muzan tightened his grip. 

His face was mere inches from hers. “Courtesans just don’t know when to quit.” Her throat bobbed as she clawed at his wrist. Pupils blown and eyes swelled, she sounded pitiable. “Know your place.” 

His expression was callous. Complete disregard for the woman’s life. In one swift motion, her vertebrae splintered underneath the skin. The crack reverberated under his fingers as she paled. Sweat beaded near her hairline and her pulse dropped. The thrum lagged in intensity compared to moments ago. Practically tossing her against the wall, he stared down at the nearly unconscious body. The rise and fall of her chest ceased at the loss of function and urine trailed from under the slightly hoisted garments. 

Muzan stepped away from the body. A look of repugnance danced in his eyes as his shoes clicked against the alley. The sheer commotion of the streets and people engrossed in their activities served to cover the deed. No eyes to behold the barbaric and heinous force that now lay with the crumpled cadaver. Not that it made any difference to him if someone bore witness or not. The action wouldn’t beget any kind of repercussion. He had killed thousands and the sole individual who could strike him down for his immorality was long gone. 

Rounding the corner of the brothel yielded another side road. Livelier than the alleyway, but not as bustling as the main street. Muzan’s gaze swept over the scene. The mix of Chouchin and modern cast bronze lanterns emitted a golden tint. Shadowing the timber structures inlaid with ornate decor and carefully crafted sliding doors. In the time since his birth in the Heian Era, Muzan had seen the rise and fall of many and their attempts at jurisdiction. From the brutal Onin War between the Daimyō and Ashikaga shogunate to the collapse of the Tokugawa shôgun. Modernizing and progressing the country into the complex order it is today. 

He wouldn't normally immerse himself in the trivial matters of the government, especially with them being substandard compared to himself, however, it was vital to his continuity. Being knowledgeable in the ever-changing systems, inventions, and styles granted him more expertise in the art of blending in. Offsetting the swordsmen intent on his demise for over a thousand years.

Observing the bleary silhouettes of people through the translucent paper on the shoji windows, he tipped the edge of his white fedora to the side. Eyeing the Kyogoku House, where Upper moon six, Gyutaro, resided. Daki may be the outward appearance and has some finesse in fighting, but that is all she’ll ever amount to. A mere child whose sole purpose is to keep her brother under control. A pitiful feat that she thinks her lord cares for and believes in her. On her knees and practically drooling over his approval. It's pathetic.

Narrowing his eyes, Muzan strode down the street. He had more pivotal things to execute rather than linger in these vulgar places. A puddle splashed as his shoe struck it. The ripples reflected molten gold from the lanterns. He looked down at the undulating liquid before his eyes sharpened. The tightness in his wrist and the scintillating flicker of the cursed filament did not go unnoticed. Muzan felt the cavity of choler dig itself further as eyes burrowed into his stature. Halting his movements, he could feel the emotions coming off the person like waves. Kismet had its way of interfering with his aspirations as of late, and it appears no matter how hard he disregarded the incident many nights ago, resilience persevered. Nails sharpening, he turned and eyed the human ogling at him.

Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes wide. Skin pale as if she had seen a ghost. His gaze dragged over her body, and he glowered in realization. The all-too-familiar black uniform with white accents stood out like a sore thumb. The haori that encapsulated the kanji on the back of the uniform was a mix of snow and sable. Swirls of what looked to be smoke and other intricate designs littered the bottom, but Muzan didn’t put much care into what the woman was wearing. His sole focus was on what she was. A Sureiyā. A Hashira.

If there were any gods or Buddha in his thousand years of existence, they were surely trying his patience.  

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(F/N) felt like her blood had been turned to ice. The glassy veins froze her in place as she owlishly stared into the eyes of her supposed soulmate. Hearing shot, ringing reverberated in her ears and the thronging behind her sounded muffled. As if she had been pulled into the unforgiving deep as her lungs screamed and begged for an end. 

He did not move, and from where she stood, she could not discern an emotion on his face. It was phlegmatic. Unwavering, constant. It unnerved (F/N) as her feelings swirled and compacted into what felt like a ticking bomb. Fury, horror, uncertainty…. contentment? It was all too much and didn't do anything to ease her palpitating heart. Eyes darted down to the thread, soaking up every single fiber and shine it emitted as she stalked its trail. It ended at his alabaster skin. Gouging itself into the flesh, and if his eyes weren't enough evidence, that's when she noticed his nails. They tapered into an acute point where deep indigo melted into pale blue. 

Breathing ragged, she took a few shaky steps back. Gaze never leaving him. (F/N) was jolted out of her stupor as a body rammed into her hard. The force sent them both tumbling to the ground. Her head and elbow cracked against the pavement. Grit dug into her flesh and tore it open as her vision doubled. Groaning softly, (F/N) brought her other hand up to cradle her head. A weight was pressed onto her torso, and it felt suffocating as it moved around. Muffled voices resonated around her, and as her vision cleared, she observed the multitude of bodies surveying the scene. Beady eyes pierced her soul, and some looked on with pity. Others glared and whispered in hushed voices like secrets carried by the wind, and she felt her face flush in embarrassment.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” A voice hissed and handfuls of her uniform were jerked forward. A man hovered over her dazed form and shook her harshly. “How dare you wench! Where is your procurer? You should be punished for your insolence.”

(F/N) clenched her teeth and slammed her fist into his chest, effectively shoving him off her. Blood oozed from her elbow and stained his hakama as he fell into the surrounding crowd. Women shrieked and men howled with laughter at the display. She staggered to her feet, clutching the laceration, and glared at the man seething on the ground.

“Nothing is wrong with me.” she spat at him. Her nerves were firing. The adrenaline from the collision, that she laid eyes on the progenitor, and that he was her soulmate no less had her on the verge of a breakdown. Something that she had not felt in years. The feeling of all these emotions flowing had her choking back the ball that had formed in her throat. “Watch where you're going next time.” She hissed. (F/N) knew it was her fault but at that moment she could care less. Her eyes darted back towards the side street. People’s bodies presented to be an obstacle as she tilted her head frantically to inspect the spot where he once stood.

There was nothing. No trace that he was there and that only served to make her panic more. The only verification that his presence remained was the line connecting the two of them. It was slack, but barely compared to the tautness of it mere moments ago. Pivoting around she shoved people out of her way as she bolted down the road. The man on the ground cursed her form which was swallowed by the sea of people.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

(F/N)’s back pressed against the cool bark of a maple. She clutched the front of her uniform as choked sounds escaped her cracked lips. Her vision warped from the tears she held back; her hands shook with force and her feet tingled.

She didn’t know how far she had run from the district, but she had to get out. She ran until she couldn’t anymore and collapsed in the emerald grass and darkened trees. The thought of those eyes drilling into hers and the shifting cataclysmic ambiance that surrounded his physique had her struggling to breathe. The air came in short bursts as her chest tightened.

It was hard.

Breathing was hard.

The only relief she felt was the sight of the thread loose and gathered in ringlets on the swaying grass. He hadn’t followed her. She was out of sight of anything besides the surrounding fauna which she no doubt scared away with the distressed sounds pouring from her mouth.

Thoughts raced from Kibutsuji to her mission.

Her failed mission.

Grabbing the nearest rock, (F/N) screamed in rage and brought it down onto the blood-red tie. Beating it repeatedly into the ground. Each hit sent a shock wave of what felt like needles through her arm as a warning. Yet, it stayed constant. No fraying, no cut, no snapping. It remained in perfect condition, and she swore it glowed brighter, mocking her. Grinding her teeth together she continued to strike it until the palms of her hands bled from the grip she had on the stone.

Panting from the energy exerted, she chucked the rock at the nearest tree and watched it break into pieces and dust. Her nails dug into her slick palm as she sat there hunched over on her knees.

The thought of the pillars and her Master’s crestfallen, disgusted faces haunted her mind. If they were to see her in this state, abandoning a mission, and fleeing from their sworn enemy when she had every opportunity to launch an assault on him, well, she could only imagine the contempt that would stem from their hearts. (F/N) imagined Master Kagaya exiling her for breaking the oath she swore her life to the moment she passed Final Selection.

“I swear to battle valiantly, not show hesitation, doubt, or cowardice in the face of danger, and place the needs of the Kisatsutai before my own.”

She placed a quivering palm over her mouth as nausea threatened to overtake her. Everything she worked towards, dedicated her life to, everything, destroyed in minutes. Obliterated by her selfishness and pusillanimity. She was no valiant swordsman. The prowess she claimed to have died the moment realization sunk in. Snuffed like a flame.

A soft flutter and pitter-patter of feet landed near her as she held back the urge to purge the contents of her stomach. The crunching of leaves and soft cooing drew closer until she had no choice but to look up. Seiichi, her Kasugai crow cocked his head and ruffled his feathers at her. A small talisman was wrapped around his neck with string, engraved with designs and different Kanji. An item her grandfather gave to her before he passed that she then gave to her crow.

“Tengen, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke are almost to Yoshiwara. You must meet them!” he cawed and made her flinch from the sudden loud noise.

“No. No Seiichi,” she took in a shaky breath before reaching out and picking him up. “I can’t. Not now.”

Setting the crow on her lap, she scratched the top of his head. Effectively making him quiet down and simultaneously began to clear the haze of panic that had been clouding her mind for hours.

“Please, don’t go to the Master. Not yet. Just stay with me for a while.” she whispered and hung her head low, hair falling in front of her face.

Seiichi didn’t make a sound. Nor did he move from his position on her lap. Indicating that he heard her plea and complied with her wish, going against his orders.

The sky steadily grew a lighter shade. A blue hue cast over the scenery before her and a few birds chirped. Beads of dew rolled off blades of grass and she shivered from the chill breeze that blew through the canopy of trees. Her body felt heavy and the wound on her elbow had dried. Pulling the skin when she would bend her arm. (F/N) observed her appearance, her haori was dirty and had a few rips in it from her fall, but for the most part, she appeared to be fine.

The sound of something being sat down had her and Seiichi whipping their heads up to look for the source. The hair on her nape prickled and she sucked in a breath. Hand reaching for her blade. The sun had not come up yet. Any demon still had the chance to strike if they so desired.

“Oh, are you alright dear?”

Taglist: @shellseys @athalahild @stxrrielle @lulu-83 @nianre @sincerely-aaronette @kathleen7i @woozzz

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

21st Day of Christmas

Christmas Card Blues

Summary/Prompt: The reader reacts to getting Christmas cards from married couples with pictures of them with their smiling children.

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, infertility & miscarriages, implied smut

Christmas Masterlist | Masterlist

You and Jensen have been married for just over a year now and have been talking about and trying to have a baby for most of that time, but it just doesn’t seem to be in the books for you, or at least not yet. It doesn’t help that you only see each other every other weekend or a couple of times a month due to his busy filming schedule but you’ve been trying as often as possible anyway. After a few false positives and a miscarriage, you’re starting to lose hope. It’s difficult to handle the emotions on your own. You know he’s there for you and wants to support you but he’s often just too busy to be there as often as you would like or need. The pain of the loss and longing is always there but now, at Christmas time it all feels so much more intense. 

The Christmas photos and cards don’t help. Genevieve for one sent our homemade cards with a picture of their whole big happy family on the front. Of course, you love her, Jared and their little ones, so it earned pride of place on the front of the fridge. But as much as you love them it also makes you sad every time you look at it. You know it’s still early days but you just thought you would’ve at least been pregnant by now. You and Jensen had talked extensively before the wedding about how you dreamt of having a family together but now that you’re trying to make it a reality, it’s easier said than done. 

You’re standing in the kitchen with your hand on your stomach and tears in your eyes when Jensen returns from checking on the brewery. He’s been home from filming for a few days now but he’s had a list of other things to check on before Christmas in Austin. Part of you knows he likes to keep busy, but you also can’t help but wonder if he’s avoiding you since you’ve failed to make your and his Christmas wish come true. You’d both hoped you’d either have a baby in your arms for Christmas or at least a positive pregnancy test or ultrasound photos; instead, you have nothing. 

When he sees you he knows exactly what’s on your mind. He wraps you in his arms and pulls you into his chest as he kisses your head. “I know, Sweetheart. I’m right here. It’s gonna be fine. We’ll get our family one day. We can start looking into IVF and other options in the new year.”

“It’s my biological job to have a baby – reproduce – and I can’t even do that. I’m so useless.”

“Hey, hey. You’re not useless. This isn’t your fault. These things just happen. It could even be my sperm for all we know. But we will figure it out. Together we can get through this. I can take some time off early in the year, and drop back on my workload a little so I can be here with you. I know it’s hard doing this on your own.”

Your phone buzzes on the kitchen counter causing you to pull away and check it. Jensen looks over your shoulder knowing you won’t mind or would tell him if you did. As you tap on the notification a picture pops up of your sister, her husband and their young children. You tap the like button and then turn your phone off before placing it screen down. Jensen kisses your head again sweetly and wraps his arms around you from behind. “That will be us one day. We haven’t been married long. Just try to be patient. You’ll get to be a mother one day.”

“I’m sorry…You came home for a happy Christmas and here I am just moping around.”

“Don’t apologise, Baby. It’s hard and you’re hurting, and that’s okay. I’m here to help carry the load now. It’s okay to feel everything that you’re feeling.”

“It’s also just…I know your mom is gonna ask tomorrow when we get there…”

“Ask what?”

“Where her grandbabies are? We’ve had a year why haven’t we gotten on to it yet? You know I love your family, but your mom has high expectations and I always fall short and now I haven’t given you a baby yet when they know you want one. They know I’m a failure and that you should’ve married someone else.”

“You done venting yet?” he asks softly. You nod. “Okay. I know that’s how you feel, but that’s not how I feel.” He spins you around and lifts you on the bench so he can stand between your legs, be at face-level with you and meet your eyes. “You’re my stunning wife who works so hard to allow me to live my dreams while you stay here and keep everything afloat. The brewery, handling invoices with Steve for my music, this house, also being there for me whenever I need you, all while trying to do your own thing and now on top of all that you’re stressing about having a baby. I love that you’re motivated and driven and want to do all that. And as long as you’re happy, I’m happy, but you’re not happy. So, after Christmas, we’re gonna talk about lifting some of this workload and stress off you. We’ll negotiate. Also, us having children is none of my parent’s business. But if she asks I can take the blame.”

“You’re gonna take the blame for my miscarriage…We didn’t tell them for a reason.”

“They don’t need to know. I’m barely home. I’m working too hard. When would we have a chance to try? Put all of that on me. It’s true and I can take it.”

“But we have…We’ve been trying every time you come home.”

“A couple of times every other weekend? It’s been amazing, I’ve loved every time. But it’s still minimal. If I was home more often we could try every night. Get a lot more practice. But regardless, they don’t need to know. If mom says anything I’ll handle it. Having a baby isn’t supposed to be stressful, it’s supposed to be fun.”

“It was…in the beginning but now…”

“I know. I just want to get back to that fun.”

“Me too.”

“How about we just forget about it for now?”

“You’re finally home and you want us to not have sex anymore?”

“Did I say that? I don’t remember saying that,” he says teasingly. “I just mean, we stop putting so much emphasis on the why and just go back to making love or just focusing on the pleasure. Be in the moment more. If it happens, it happens. No more planning.” You nod in agreeance. “I’m glad you agree because I really want you to lay back on this bench for me.”

His hands squeeze your thighs as he kisses you deeply and then guides you to lean back. He sinks to his knees as his hands grip the waistband of your leggings and pull them down your legs.

[niobiumao3]

.

'TechPhee is rushed'

Nothing has been rushed because literally nothing has happened! The closest they've come is an awkward not-goodbye after an episode clearly showing them circling one another. What's there to have been rushed??? Phee attempting to express interest and Tech completely missing it? How do you rush the ground level, absolute first step of a romantic interaction?

'Phee needs more characterization'

Definitely! And yet somehow that's not a reason to not ship her with Fennec, whom she's never even met (that we know of), or Cid, who she's been on screen with for about 1/10 as much time as Tech. Those are the 'better' canon options for her despite little to no interaction with them. How does that make more sense than Tech??

'She was neurotypical at Tech in their last scene. '

As we all know, neurotypical people are immediately aware of how to interact with ND/autistic people, they're all taught from an early age about the differences, how to spot them, etc. <sage nod>

I'll come clean; what I saw in this scene was two people misunderstanding one another. That the reason is Phee is probably neurotypical was likely the root cause, but an autistic person in her position probably would have ALSO been frustrated, they'd simply have expressed it differently. Are you going to tell me any two autistic people are automatically better at communicating because, do I have news for you...

Phee is mildly concerned they're running off in the night, prods at Tech a little. Tech doesn't know what she wants/expects, so he offers her a briefing, which to him makes perfect sense. That's how you tell someone what your mission is about! But to Phee, it comes across as a distancing, a pushing away, which is why she reacts so negatively IMO. They've been there for, what, probably a month or more, helping rebuild after the tsunami, integrating into the community, and there's no goodbyes or anything, just a 'briefing'. So it upsets her, this cutting off that she perceives. Which is of course not at all what it is, just the entire Batch has literally no experience with telling friends/non-combatants 'going on a risky mission with little chance of returning, wish us luck!', and definitely Tech doesn't if his body language is any indication. (And yet he was standing outside the ship...)

And she tries to get through to him in the way she knows how, which obviously fails--you can practically SEE him thinking 'what does that MEAN' when she talks about not running off. What she means is, 'come back to us, to ME, in one piece'. But hey, she has her own reasons for being careful and not putting herself too out there, it's just Tech has zero context for her wording.

At which point she seems to realize there's still a long way to go in getting to know one another, in coming to an understanding about the differences in how they experience life and express themselves. So she stops, lets it go. They can discuss how friends--good ones, at least--do not go on do or die missions without at least an 'I hope I can come back' once they return. (*cough*)

I don't know how this scene could have gone differently without an implication of a lot of interactions happening which addressed some of their differences. Which would be the 'rushing' people are accusing the ship of--and it literally isn't implied! At all!! If anything this scene plays right into need to slow roll things. It's like the writing can't win; either it's rushed, in which case omg lazy writing, or Phee is being horrible to Tech for not knowing how to interact with him in more personal moments despite them still determining where they stand.

The expectation that Phee handle Tech 'more carefully' in this scene is both racist in its assumptions about her and infantalizing to Tech. Sure, she could have done better, but she didn't exactly do him some sort of irreparable harm, any more than Hunter did when saying Tech can talk for hours on a subject. But Phee is a black woman and suddenly the expectation she perform this interaction perfectly as acceptable by every fan (NT/allistic or not) is the only way for the ship to be even moderately acceptable.

No one says you have to like the ship or be remotely interested in it, but attributing characteristics to it that it clearly doesn't have reveals a need to negate it, to declare you're correct in not liking it.

You can just not like it. But claiming things with no actual basis in the writing or canon looks really suspicious.

[hellsite-detective]

Hello! Would you ever be able to track down the post that begins with:

“Whatever you do, don’t think about Achilles”

as a title? If so, or even if not, thanks!

a rather hard one to find. and quite frankly, i didn't know if i even found the right post. but either way, at least i was deliverin' something...

i actually found this one a while back, but got so busy i forgot to file it away. but it's about time i got around to it, eh? see, i went down to the Search Bar like i always do and asked Don Google for anything they had on this post. it took some real beggin' to get this one. askin' in several different ways. Google was makin' me look like a fool, and i resented them for it. either way, i eventually got them to cough it up. i grabbed it and filed it away.

here's the post! at least i hope. i'm not entirely sure this is the right one, but either way it's somethin'. i hope this is satisfactory! have a great day!

Post Case: Closed

[cinemaocd]

My april films list

The Scar/Blizna (1976): When I was in college my roommate was in a Polish class and she had access to a library of films and we watched a lot of Krzysztof Kieślowski and they are all good, I think. This one is about a mid level manager who inherits a white elephant of a project: clear a forest to build an industrial plant. The local people and the forest itself turn against him. It's magical realism with that Slavic touch of fatalism that always feels relevant.

Sweetie (1989): I saw this in the 90s at a film festival and so it was a bit of a shock when The Piano came out and it felt like you could not have two more different films at least on the surface, but both are directed by Jane Campion. Sweetie is a frank and often dark comedy about an ungovernable woman--a cautionary tale about the infantilisation of women, seen through the eyes of her long suffering sibling.  Akira (1987): Iconic anime with a beautiful smooth style. Copied so frequently it can look a bit basic to those who've grown up with its imitators, but the heart of it is a great score and atmospheric noir setting that make the set pieces like the night motorcycle ride through Tokyo the perfect accompaniment to millennial angst. Near Dark (1987): Katherine Bigelow's shot at the sexy vampire genre features most of the cast of Aliens as a troop of vampires who follow around a Confederate soldier. Bill Paxton does an entertainingly nasty turn as one of the baddies. Feels like an Aliens/Lost Boys AU and that is a compliment, really.

Cleo from 5-7 (1962): Not to be like this already in what amounts to a two sentence blurb, but the summary for this film describes Cleo as a hypochondriac? Excuse me but she is waiting around to find out if she has cancer. It seems to me that this is a movie about the way women are dismissed and not seen, even when they are famous and actually the center of attention wherever they go. On the surface she looks like a spoiled diva, but behind the scenes we see she is frightened and lonely. Anyway fuck the patriarchy and Free Cleo! Twelve Angry Men (1957): We rewatched this because my son is on some weird reddit sub thread discord where everyone rpgs as jurors from this movie...I'm not joking. Imagining a super niche fandom for Jack Warner. It exists. THe internet is a wild place. Anyway, this holds up. Don't mix up Syndey Lumet and Sydney Pollack like I did, lol. Embarrassing!

Ashes and Diamonds (1958): Polish film master, Andrez Wadja's be bop riff on neo realism, is a chronicle of the final day of German occupation, and a Hail Mary attempt by a young resistance fighter to wrest the country back from the Soviet Army which is already there. It's a hopeless mission, born of drunken desperation in smokey back rooms, one that comes apart in daylight. It's feels like Rebel without a Cause, but like...he has a cause? There a sense of tragic waste that mirrors Nicholas Ray's vision of restless American youth. Scoop (2024): A rather weak entry in the behind the scenes journalism drama genre that I seem to be unable to resist in any form. This has Billy Piper as a booking agent who manages the coup of getting Prince Andrew to sit down for an interview with the press about the pedophilia allegations. Your average episode of The Thick of It, probably has more meat than this made for TV film.

The Two Popes (2019): For those playing along at home this was my fourth time watching this. What can I say, two of my fave old lovies flirting away in Pope costumes. It's a comfort film. You are not immune to propaganda. Bulworth (1998): Featuring just about every working black actor of the era, this movie was kind of ahead of its time. About a liberal politician who is so depressed about the state of his party being owned by powerful business interests that he decides to commit suicide by hiring a hitman to kill him so that his family will at least get the insurance. Warren Beatty at his most ridiculous, this is underrated gem.

Great Expectations (1974) After revisiting this version, I went back to David Lean, which is no surprise. This is a made for TV movie that has a lot of familiar faces from 50s British film including Robert Morley and my boi Anthony Quayle. Michael York is Pip. Heat (1995): I might become slightly obsessed with Michael Mann after watching all this moody atmosphere punctuated with bursts of violence, with long passages set to a synth score that made Chris Fleming want to crash his car. Some beautiful lighting and camera work in the final set piece which takes place on an airport runway. Iconic and yet, bloated and overlong and I just don't know why I like it so much? Maybe it's Al Pacino's reactions which are just so off the wall in some scenes, and the disconcerting normality of the other people in the same scenes, ya know? Like they are in two different movies. I shot Andy Warhol (1996): Watched this for Jared Harris (who is adorable as always and terrific as always and completely sinks into the role as always) and came away remembering why Lily Taylor was a 90s icon/IT girl and boy can she act. Like wow. Andy Warhol is the title character, but it's more about Valerie Solanas the radical feminist lesbian who shot him because she believed he stole her work. (The movie implies that he did, a little bit...). Her SCUM manifesto remains controversial to say the least, but her story is a utterly heartbreaking, told with humanity and nuance. Actually a great choice for Pride month because it talks about gay history and it's not pretty or comfortable but it's necessary to learn. Hopscotch (1980): Delightful comedy starring Walter Matthau and Judy Collins as a spy couple. Combines actually decent spy thriller with actually funny stuff and it's romantic and sweet as well.

[orionsangel86]

Welp. Okay I watched the last episode of ofmd.

To sum up my thoughts on this season I will say that whilst I enjoyed it and felt the love and passion and respect for its queer fanbase throughout, it didnt hit me the same way the first season did. It felt like maybe a little bit of that season 1 magic was missing and for that I very much blame Max's cutting off 2 episodes and slashing the budget. They had a lot of story they wanted to tell that would have worked so much better in 10 episodes.

I consider the last 3 episodes of season 1 some of the best TV I have seen in my life. From the use of The Chain in ep 8, through the dramatic highs and lows of eps 9 and 10 it was edge-of-your-seat drama and I was in awe at the creators that put it together. But one of the reasons why those 3 eps were so good is because the drama and the pivotal moments were given time to breath.

If those 3 eps were given the same lack of time and budget as season 2, no doubt they all would have been crammed into 1 episode and it would not have had the same impact.

If anything that last episode should have played out across two, with Izzy's death being the half way point and cliffhanger ending leading to a final battle and somewhat happy resolution.

I'm not mad at Izzy's death. If anyone was gonna die, it was gonna be him. His status as Blackbeards enabler and sometimes mentor is over. For Ed to truly be free, I think Izzy always had to go. From a storytelling perspective it makes perfect sense, even though I am sure a lot of fans are absolutely heartbroken about it.

Another casualty of the reduced screentime meant certain original cast members weren't given anywhere near the amount of screentime they should have had. I was expecting a lot more focus on Jim as they were basically the third lead of s1 due to them getting the same backstory as Ed and Stede. All of the crew appear to have had drastically reduced parts which does feel like a big loss to me.

Its funny actually, OFMD S2 suffered from the opposite problem to GOS2. OFMD had too much story to tell in a limited timeframe, GOS2 had very little story to tell outside of the flashbacks and probably too much time given to it. Both shows season 2s suffered from tremendously bad pacing issues.

Also, the one thing the final episode made so obvious to me, is the uncertainty of getting a s3 renewal. It is so clear in the way they tried to wrap things up in a happy bow as best they could, so that if they do get cancelled it leaves fans at least somewhat satisfied. I hate this though. I hate that studios are so fickle and ruthless that creators have to gamble with good quality writing and avoid cliffhangers because of asshole executives who dont actually care about the stories.

Because of the fast pacing, and the fear of cancellation, it felt more like a rush happy ending instead of a part way point in a bigger story, with important character development still to come. Perhaps I need more time to absorb the story in a full rewatch, but im not exactly itching for more at this point, whilst also not really being satisfied with what I got either. I wish we had left Ed and Stede in at least some minor peril, like have them captured and threatened with hanging but at least in a good place romantically, so that we can start speculating about what kind of escape plan they will come up with in season 3. Leaving them in a dilapidated old inn somewhere just felt wrong to me. Instead of ending the season with the stakes sky high (like season 1) it feels like they left season 2 with zero stakes at all, instead of at least a happy medium. At this point we should be turning to fanfiction and wondering what happens next, but instead I'm left thinking "okay then. That was good. What can I watch next?" I don't need to bury myself in fanfic and fanart to feed the hyperfixation this time around, and that is where I feel the most loss.

I'm sure others will have hugely different reactions to me though. Perhaps my expectations were too high? Perhaps my GO obsession just isn't leaving room for OFMD this time? But then again, I think if GOS2 hadn't ended the way it did, I wouldn't still be so obsessed with that either.

Sigh. I dunno. It was a good fun show and will no doubt still be hugely popular with devoted fans, but for me I just can't say it cast the same spell over me as it did last year.

[sspacegodd]

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION

The park was filled with lots of guys who should have kept their shirts on. A barefoot blond dreadhead perpetually hopped from foot to foot whilst stroking and tapping a Pringles can like a Tibetan singing bowl. A bearded guy drummed on buckets. This really skinny kid did skateboard tricks while displaying a constant plumber’s butt. Don’t you have to be fat for that?

Food Not Bombs was all set up but not many partook. Feeding people is always better than blowing them up but no one seemed impressed. They would rather wait in line for a ten-dollar bowl of macaroni and cheese at Noodles.

All in all, it seems the general public will only accept food from earthy, nose-ringed, lime-haired leftist hippie punks if it’s inside a shiny co-op with sneeze guards.

A group of guys nearby were chatting entirely in Greek (at least that’s what it was to me) until they suddenly all started inexplicably singing (in English) Mad TV’s “Lowered Expecta-ations…”

There’s always a small group of youngsters, probably from a nearby unincorporated village, led by one guy all punked out with a mohawk, never-used leather cockrings around his wrist, and fresh razor slashes in his brand new jeans, swaggering around while the other incredibly normal keeping-the-status-quo kids follow behind at a respectful distance. I don’t really have a problem with poseurs. At least they’re trying.

And appearing as ubiquitously as always: the Cro-Magnon monkey lady in the dirty red Capri's and grey head scarf whose only activity seems to be purchasing cigarettes.

The same skinny black guy rode by three times: each time ON A DIFFERENT BIKE.

I looked around the smoke-free patio at all the people who probably wouldn’t have sex me and drank a warm half glass of beer that somebody had left. The guy sitting at the table next to me still hadn’t turned around or taken a break from his rapt attention on the single Pringle drum circle so I drank his beer, too.

The bucket drummer seemed to have come equipped with a bunch of the same song played at different speeds. It was okay but he had some really good musician sex faces.

Nobody in the small crowd seemed all that worked up, except the one guy who started looking around for his beer.

I made my way to the restroom and bought a whole bunch of novelty condoms. Just in case.

The dreaded hippie had just started the next version of the last song when I dove back into the sparkling hot city and dogpaddled away.

[systemtermz]

Expectaject/Expecta system

Reclaimed from an end0 term

Flag is meant to be redesigned if desired

An alter or system that does not meet the expectations of others or follow the stereotypes of being an alter/system and/or their role, trauma, etc. it could also not relate to being a system but their gender, sexuality, etc.

(This Blog was created to repost terms for the convenience and comfort of others. If you remake a reclaimed flag please tag me.)

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Congrats on the milestone!!

Could I get a 🦀 👑 drabble with the line ❛ is that my shirt? ❜ for Butch? Thank you :)

Ooh, this is cute <3

I hope you like it! 😁

Butch still felt like he was buzzing. He felt higher than when Paul Hannon had shared those pills with him when they were still in school, felt like he could fly up and bust through the roof of your metal-walled Megaton bedroom.

How he'd managed to get a wink of sleep after last night... last night with you, he'll never know. Now though, now he was up, he was up and he was ready for another day at your side, another day of being free, kicking ass, another day that could maybe lead to another night just like this last one... Damn, he hoped so.

If you felt half as good as he did today, then you had to be looking forward to doin' something like this again, right?

Footsteps echoed through the house as you came up the stairs, and even before seeing you, Butch felt his heart soar.

"You awake now, baby?" You peeked up at him as you made it up to the second floor.

A boyish grin overtook his face before he could stop it.

"Oh yeah, baby, I'm up."

Even from a few feet away, he could see the way your face heated as you made the final steps to the foot of the bed. He couldn't keep his eyes off you as you moved to sit in front of him. You were only wearing these little shorts, and a thin, white, long-sleeved--

"Say, Lone, is that my shirt?"

Your eyes widened as you settled on the mattress, but otherwise you showed no sign of hearing his inquiry.

"Here. I made coffee." You handed out a mug to him brusquely, and Butch happily scooted forward to take it, conscious of his bare form as he brought the blanket over with him and kept it settled in his lap.

"That's okay, Lone. You look pretty good in it, is all I was gonna say."

As his eyes met yours, you looked away sheepishly, an embarrassed grin playing at your lips.

It only made him feel more bold.

"Last night was good, huh?"

You nearly choked at the statement, hot coffee threatening to spill form you in your surprise.

Butch only laughed, and your face heated even further. There was no way the blush wasn't physically noticeable by now.

"Mmhm. Yeah... It was." You chuckled nervously, still feeling Butch's eyes on you as you wiped at your mouth.

"It was..." You continued slowly, almost unwittingly, maybe just to fill the silence, as your gaze roamed over Butch's bare torso, up to his lightly-haired chest, to his strong shoulders... "It was really good, huh? I've never..."

You swallowed as your eyes met his again, but this time you didn't look away.

"Never felt that way about anyone before." You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you finished.

"Me neither." He said, almost easily, and smiled, and you noticed the way his eyes creased and shone with genuine emotion.

"Man, I just mean... I mean, I woke up this morning feeling like I was on cloud 9 or something, you know?"

You smiled as you nodded to him, and you felt a subtle touch on your hand. It was like he hadn't even noticed, he was just absent-mindedly stroking over the back of your hand, up over your wrist, brushing at the sleeve of your shirt-- his shirt, as he spoke. Just needing to touch you.

A pleasant fuzzy feeling erupted in your stomach, right where the knots had been forming all morning as you'd waited for him to wake.

"Just makes me glad we left that vault." He continued softly, "Left all that behind us... Cuz, I mean, we never coulda gotten here could we? With Amata, an' the way she felt about me, an' Paul and them... The Tunnel Snakes... Didn't leave a lotta room for this, y'know?"

"Yeah... that was tough." You set down your mug on the end table, opting instead to crawl back into bed with your companion. He shifted to accommodate you beside him, pulling the covers up so you could slide underneath and join him in the pleasant coziness.

"I always knew I liked you, you know. But it just... it seemed like it could never be. With my father's expectations, and, yeah..." You trailed off, looking away.

Butch's arm wrapped around you, pulling you in, and you felt his warmth seeping in through your thin shirt.

"I was worried I would never have this with you. And then, when I was forced out, well, I don't think my odds really got better, huh?"

You both chuckled a bit at that, and you felt his breath spill over your head.

"Nah, I wouldn't say that." He jostled you playfully as he spoke, "The interest was there, baby, just... yeah, a bit harder to get to ya."

You hummed, resting your head against his shoulder as his arm stayed comfortingly around you.

"But you did." You said softly.

"Course I did." Butch almost snorted at you, his hand's grip tugging you into him further. "A Tunnel Snake never gives in. You should know that by now, babe."

[stephanmacro]

Brain scans reveal that mindfulness meditation for pain is not a placebo

[kaiserkisser]

guys my mom. Is forcing me to attend 6 hrs of coaching the day before the exams of eng and hindi and expecta me to get above 90 in both