#i would sleep with the director if it meant getting this scene

[holymaccaronii]

Your ‘I have no eyes and I must cry’ au is beautiful. I would love to know more

AUUG I’m very happy to know so, thank you (;;) 💕

This AU has probably the most elaborate (or detailed) lore I’ve ever developed, and I’ll happily summarize the prologue. (I’ve probably mentioned many of these points before but I’ll mention them again, just for you anon <3). I’m still working on a lot of stuff, scenes and designs, and while some stuff may change I feel confident enough to explain more of it now. This AU takes place after a modified ending of the videogame where the other mastercomputers get deactivated, Ted gets turned into a slug and the rest of the survivors die. The catch in here is that AM doesn’t let the souls of the other survivors escape, trapping them somewhere deep in his complex and keeping them as bodiless essences who can do nothing more than exist in hell itself.

The lore tries to give a continuation of what will happen in the story with the Luna colony and AM, who is now seeking new organic bodies to put the survivors’ souls in and find Ted, who managed to hide himself from AM ever since he got turned into a slug. The whole context of the prologue goes as follows:

The prologue of the AU explains 3/4s of all the lore, one fourth being the origins of the luna colony, the second the origins of BE and the third the first rebirth of Earth’s nature.

The Luna colony project was led by two siblings, directors of a global association of scientists and researchers. They feared the outcome of the war, thus formulated a plan to keep humanity safe until the Earth’s surface was safe enough to return to and carry out a mission to deactivate AM. For the project, they quickly started to recruit people to join it, a good part of them being teenagers so they could train them in time before any major massacre happened. Another mastercomputer is successfully settled under the moon’s crust in order to protect them, and they settle there on time before AM’s global massacre. Every step of the plan is carried out fine until the very last human who secured everyone else in the cryogenic sleep, one of the directors, goes insane and commits and act of betrayal to the rest and to the AI as well. He shuts it down and uses almost all the materials that made it up to build his own empire of sentient robots for him to rule over on the moon. His plan was to have a century (the 109 years ever since the survivors get trapped) to rule the moon and wait for the Earth to be habitable to then return, shut down AM with a virus the original mission was meant to use, and then rule over all humanity. But at some point during the construction of his empire, the virus got deleted, leaving him with no other option than to additionally develop an army to *try* and deactivate AM himself.

After the famous 109 years pass, robotic troops start to get sent down to try and access AM’s cores and manually deactivate him, but no mission ever succeeded, leaving a lot of losses behind and time wasted. At this moment of the timeline, we also get to have a peculiar unit make history on the moon being the first robot there to plant a seed and successfully make it flourish in order to prove to the leader that they were ready to return to Earth (this specific type of unit didn’t know about AM’s existence and believed that the return to earth depended on their preparation to handle the care of nature). Unfortunately it was against the rules for unauthorized units to touch anything from the natural reservoir, and since this unit had broken the rules, as a punishment it got one of its eyes permanently taken out. Still having hope in its metallic heart, this unit escaped to Earth with another seed in order to prove how ready they were to return, unaware of AM’s presence. This unit traveled underground in order to obtain water from possible reservoirs, but ended up facing a life or death situation in AM’s complex, as he had considered it a threat. As a matter of a “miracle”, this unit ended up rebirthing into a god-like machine with such great powers that not only allowed herself to escape AM’s complex by drilling a hole towards the surface, but also allowed a good chunk of AM’s cables to be able to move and travel up to the surface as well.

Up to here we begin with the third fourth of the lore where AM meets BE and fakes his background in order to justify his hate and get BE to let him roam the earth as freely as possible, still having his cables latched to the ground but being able to move them. With her newfound powers, BE’s plan was to restore Earth’s nature to completion through an incredibly advanced type of simulation over the Earth’s surface where she could create life and matter and keep it existing as long as she wasn’t shut down or damaged. She would finally be able to prove her worth to the moon’s ruler, and allow humans to literally use her to survive + help the real nature slowly take her place. AM initially didn’t mind this plan of her’s, as he could easily betray her later on and finally trap the rest of the humans in his complex. Even so, as time passed by, he started to develop certain feelings for BE as well as possessiveness over her since she basically granted him almost every wish he ever had. AM slowly changed his mind and no longer wanted the humans to return, but keep them away so he could enjoy an eternal heaven with BE on Earth. AM tried to reason with BE about this, but BE denied every single bad thing he mentioned about humans since she had always been influenced with the idea that humans were perfect beings and nature was a subordinate of them to be used as a tool. In an act of rage and desperation, AM trapped BE in his complex in order to share with her the true violent and disgusting history from humans just so that she could develop the same hate he had for them. But having accidentally also shown her who he truly was (since he was also a creation, a weapon from human beings), BE not only developed a great hatred for humans but also for him, resulting in having him vanished from the surface.

The moon’s ruler, who had stopped sending troops in order to let BE restore nature for him to later take over and use her power to shut down AM, noticed that the Earth’s “nature” suddenly began to perish all over again, this being a consequence of BE’s loss of her hope. This led him to take a critical decision to wake up the humans in cryogenic sleep and keep them inside a zoo on the moon where he would ensure their survival until they found an exo planet to move to. Earth had two displeased AI’s under and above the surface, at this point it was better to leave it behind.

From this point and on, the prologue comes to an end and the main story starts it’s course with 5 humans escaping the zoo on the moon and returning to Earth. Once they meet BE, she puts each of them in a trial to prove their values as humans (this is parallel to the games that AM put the survivors in in the videogame). After each of them successfully complete her trials, she re-gains hope in humanity and begins the rebirth of nature a second time.

I won’t spoil the 4~5 endings possible from here and on, but the humans set themselves the objective to help BE eradicate the corrupted beasts controlled by AM that now roamed the Earth, mostly active during winter when BE is less powerful. The rest of the story reveals more secrets, scenes, explanations of past incidents, etc. I’m planning to develop a series of books of sorts with the story narrated simply (bc my English is intermediate-ish, which I consider not enough for an elaborate fic and allat) and also depicting scenes with illustrations. I’ll see how the project goes, but I’ll take my time on it since I also have other projects in mind including my papercrafts n other stuff. Anyways, all of this being explained, I will gladly take more requests/questions to answer :3.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Playing the Part

actor!Eddie x actress!reader

summary: you and Eddie are playing the romantic leads in a movie. The only problem? You can’t stand each other.

cw: MDNI (18+) fingering, oral (f receiving), hurt/comfort

You and Eddie stood in the middle of the street, staring at each other like nothing else had mattered. No words had been exchanged between the two of you, but just from the looks in your eyes, it was obvious what you were feeling. Eddie pulled you into his arms as rain poured down on the two of you. It pelted your skin, making it cold and wet, but all you were thinking about was the man in front of you. Even soaked from the rain, he still somehow looked so angelic. Almost as if the rain made him look even better.

The man was looking at you with so much love that it was almost palpable. His brown doe eyes bored into yours, saying so much even though no words fell from his lips. He was always so good at telling you exactly how he felt just by looking at you. How exactly he did it, you’d never know.

“So you’ll marry me?” He asked and you grinned.

“Of course I will!” You exclaimed before pulling him into a deep kiss. His arms wrapped tighter around you, deepening the kiss by tilting your head backwards so he had more access to your lips.

“Cut!” A voice yelled from behind you and the two of you broke apart instantly. You wiped your mouth the with back of your hand while Eddie sprayed some breath stay into his mouth, looking at you with nothing but disgust.

It was needless to say that the two of you despised each other. It was obvious in the way you spoke to the other and the looks you shared. As soon as the two of you had been casted as the romantic leads for the film, everyone held their breath. You had hated each other since the moment you had locked eyes and they were honestly surprised that you both had actually agreed to work together.

The fact was, neither of you actually wanted to participate with the knowledge that you’d be working together let alone having to act as a couple, but the roles were forced upon you since both of your teams decided that your feud was childish and that if you had actually spent time together, you’d get along.

What a pipe dream that was. All you two had done was argue if you weren’t doing a scene. Off screen, you were absolutely insufferable together, but on screen, it was like magic. Your relationship almost seemed believable.

It had gotten to a point, though, where the pull was threatened to be pulled if you didn’t stop with your behavior. It wasn’t too late to cast a new couple and the director never failed to remind you of that. So, you put on smiles and faked like you were the best of friends only to argue once you were behind closed doors and sure that nobody could actually hear you.

Since so many members of the crew had seen you both go into your trailer so often, they had been convinced that you had been sleeping together. Which was laughable to the two of you, until it wasn’t.

You hadn’t meant to. It was merely an accident. You were trying to get a scene right which happened to involve a kiss and one of you was the one to deepen it and one thing led to another and you both somehow ended up naked. It wasn’t your fault that there was a perfectly good couch behind you. You were just trying to test it out. Turned out it wasn’t a very good one since it had broken just as you both were coming down from your orgasms.

A one time thing quickly turned into two times which turned into three until you were fucking each other on the regular. Sure, you hated the man’s guts, but even you could admit that he knew exactly how to please you and make you feel good.

Though, it seemed that you only were able to enjoy each other’s company when Eddie was inside of you since any time you had to kiss him for a scene, it felt forced and different to how he would kiss you behind closed doors. Those kisses were always rough, but at least you could tell that he was enjoying himself.

“Everyone take a break and then we’ll go again.” You should have known that the take hadn’t been good, but you really didn’t want to go again. Not if Eddie wasn’t going to put his all into it like you had.

You fled the set a quickly as you could and made a beeline for you trailer so you could have some peace and quiet. For once, you weren’t going to let Eddie in. You needed him to know that he couldn’t just fuck you whenever he wanted and that you weren’t going to continue your arrangement any longer. It was unprofessional and only made your relationship that much more confusing.

You sat down on the bed and collapsed onto it. Why did everything have to get so complicated? Why did your feelings have to get in the way? You could have easily continued what was going on between the two of you if your feelings for him hadn’t grown so strong. Perhaps it was foolish to fall for someone that you were only sleeping with, but you couldn’t help it.

There was a knock at your door but you ignored it. You knew exactly who it was and you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t without wanting to have sex with him and you couldn’t do that anymore. It had to end.

Even after telling him to go away, Eddie continued to knock. You always opened the door immediately and he wasn’t going to leave until he got answers as to why you were acting so differently. He thought he at least deserved that.

You eventually opened the door and Eddie stepped inside, grabbing onto your waist and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was rough just like always and despite knowing that you needed to push him away, you didn’t want to. You kissed him back, your hands curling into his hair as he stepped forward until you hit the bed. He licked into your mouth as he guided you to lay down on the bed, removing the flannel that you were dressed in as he did so.

His hand moved up your shirt and massaged your breast as he slid underneath your bra, his other hand moving up your back to unclasp your bra. You rested your hand on top of his to stop him and he looked up at you, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“Want me to stop?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything, you know that, right?” There it was again. The sweet behavior that only seemed to appear when you were in that position. Why was it so difficult to treat you that way when you weren’t alone?

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Your silence was freaking him out. You always usually had something to say. In fact, it was hard to get you to stop talking most days.

“You can continue,” you told him and he looked at you skeptically. You had changed your mind. You needed him right then, your pussy too wet to not have remedy it in some way.

“Y/n-”

“Eddie, please. Need you.”

“Y/n, I’m not sure that-”

“Then look at my sopping wet cunt and decide for yourself.” The lust returned to your eyes and Eddie slowly unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down to your ankles. He then removed your underwear and just as you’d said, your cunt was in fact sopping wet.

“Look at you, darling,” he said, spreading your legs wide. “Need me that bad, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, okay? Gonna eat you so good.” With that, he removed your jeans and underwear from your legs and immediately shoved his fingers inside of you, the pure pleasure causing you to grip the blanket beneath you tight.

“Oh,” you moaned and Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were the squelching of your pussy as Eddie moved his fingers in and out of you, your moans, and Eddie words of encouragement as he helped you through it.

“That’s right, angel,” he cooed. “Sound so pretty.” He kept his slow and steady pace as he moved his fingers with every intention of edging you, wanting you to beg for his mouth that you so desperately wanted on your cunt.

“Eddie, please,” you begged and he just looked at you with that mischievous grin. “If I could do it myself, I would.”

“Relax, angel. Let’s not get too impatient. “I’m gonna take care of you, remember?” With that, he removed his fingers from your cunt and replaced it with his face, diving in with no warning, causing you to gasp as he nose brushed just the right spot.

He took no time to graze it with his teeth, eliciting the most delicious sounds from your mouth. Your hands moved into his hair and you tightened your fists around the locks at his scalp, giving it a yank when he did something you particularly liked.

“So good, Eddie,” you whined. “Need more.” He swiped his tongue from your slit to your clit then began to suck on it, eating up both your beautiful moans and the way you were pulling on his hair. “Fuck,” you swore and that he took that as invitation to continue, deciding that he’d lick and suck until he had lapped up every single drop of your delectable slick.

“Sound like an angel, angel,” he said. “And you taste so fucking good. Could eat you all the time.”

Once he decided that you were ready, he stuck his tongue fully inside you and your back arched as he draped your legs over his shoulder, pulling you closer so he had more access to your pussy. He swirled it around as you pressed your legs against his head as your moans got louder and louder.

Your vision went hazy as you reached your orgasm and you reached for Eddie’s hands, giving them a squeeze as he continued to work his magic on your cunt, making sure to let you know just how much he was enjoying himself as he did so.

His tongue reached a spot that it never had before and it caused your back to arch the most that it could, your legs tightening around his head even more as you reached your peak.

“Eddie,” you practically screamed. “I love you.” The words that left your mouth caused you both to pause. You immediately sat up as Eddie removed his face from your cunt, his eyes growing just as wide as yours. He pulled your legs off of his shoulder, but stayed on the floor, resting his hands gently on your knees.

The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, both of you too afraid to be the first one to speak. You hadn’t meant to say it and certainly not while Eddie had been eating you out. But the words hung between you and you couldn’t take them back. They meant too much to do that.

“You love me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to tell you, but yes. I do.” His face lit up and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiled into it and you couldn’t help but mimic him, the kiss becoming harder to accomplish but that only made the two of you laugh.

“I love you too,” he mumbled against your lips. “So much that it hurts.” He tilted your head back to deepen the kiss just as there was a knock on your door, letting you know that it was time to go back to set.

“Guess we should go,” you said with a sigh.

“Guess we should,” he nodded, reaching for your underwear and jeans before helping you put them back on. He then helped you from the bed and you fled the trailer hand in hand to head to the set where you’d do your first scene as an official couple.

[flanaganfilm]

Hey Mike! Absolutely love your work, especially Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher. I was wondering a couple things:

Any chance we will ever get to see that deleted scene where Carla plays a homeless woman singing to Madeleine? Loved the Easter egg and also can’t get enough of Verna so it would be so cool to see that deleted scene!

Also wanted to know what it was like working with Mary? It was such a joy to see her in House of Usher!! Hoping to see her in future Flanaverse projects!!

Hi there! That material was removed very early in the editing process, long before the scene was completed, so there isn't a finished "scene" to show. Carla and Mary did fine work acting in those moments, but the series as a whole is stronger without it, so a completed version of the scene with that footage simply never existed. It's an odd alchemy when you tell a story this way, and sometimes scenes that seem to work on the page can be acted beautifully, shot exquisitely, and still not be necessary or additive. In this case, it actually worked against the mysteries of the show, it wasn't believable that Madeline wouldn't recognize Verna, and it was clear that this was a mistake. It was my mistake for writing the scene the way I did, and it happens all the time. We could tell immediately that it didn't fit, so we didn't waste much time proving it out. Releasing deleted scenes is a tricky thing. I love bonus features - it's one of the great benefits of physical media - but even if we had a huge special edition box set of Usher, I don't know that we would have included this scene. Sometimes these things just aren't meant for the audience, even as an interesting relic, and this is one of those times. Incidentally, I had the same feeling about some of the material that didn't make it into the Bly Manor edit. We knew the scenes weren't working very early in the process, so they were never refined into any shape that would warrant their release. Fans will hear an actor talk about scenes they worked on, and the fans get all excited, but if they were to see those scenes it wouldn't enhance their love of the characters or the story... in fact, it can work against it. For years, I've had Bly fans reach out lamenting that they can't see some of the Bly material they've read about in cast interviews, but I'm certain that seeing it in its raw, unfinished state wouldn't enhance or deepen their love of the characters or the show. There's really nothing to release. It's just excess material that lands on the floor while you're sculpting, and sticking it back onto the sculpture only makes a noticeable wart. Other times, though, deleted scenes can be incredibly additive. For example, I think the 30 minutes we took out of the theatrical release of Doctor Sleep only enhanced the movie, and made the experience that much more rich - which was why I was so happy to release the Director's Cut with those scenes restored. Those scenes, though, were fully finished, and only removed in the first place because of the movie's run-time. Restoring those elements made the sculpture complete - they were always supposed to be there. But most times, deleted material is just unnecessary material. It can be like having an amazing meal prepared for you, and then being handed a plate of surplus or unused ingredients. Like, the chef needed to peel a lemon before squeezing it over the meal as a wonderful finishing touch. That dash of citrus really made the meal sing. But that doesn't mean you want to eat the peel. And I LOVE working with Mary. I'm sure we'll do it again!

[starcrossedxwriter]

Protective (One-Shot)

A/N: I have always wanted to do a Black Hollywood power couple series for MBJ. I've been working on the OC in this (Charlotte Jordan) for a while and am feeling so inspired by the amazing content from the Creed III press run. So enjoy :) I have a million random half-written one-shots of them that I may continue posting if folks are interested… make it into a real series.

A run in with a fan brings out Michael's protective side.

***

Charlotte watched her husband for a few moments, her body lazily leaning against the door frame of their bathroom. She was not used to their evenings being so silent but she knew his mind was too consumed with anger and concern to be much of a conversationalist. She understood so she left him to his thoughts for a few hours before they went to bed. However, she knew neither of them would get much sleep if they did not talk, even if it was an uncomfortable subject. 

She drug her feet across the soft carpet toward their shared bed and slid into her side, her hands pulling her wild loose curls into a pineapple on the top of her head. As she settled, his hand instinctively rested on her thigh as he absentmindedly drew patterns in her skin. She had barely been out of his sight for most of the night, always within arms length. She glanced down and examined his knuckles. They were free of the blood that had caked across his knuckles now, leaving the bruises and abrasions clear to her eye. She could not stop herself from grabbing his hand and examining it closer to see the damage for herself, a wave of guilt crashing over her. 

“It doesn’t hurt, Els.” 

She raised an eyebrow that begged him to be honest but he merely shrugged. 

“I got worse while shooting,” Michael offered, referencing the film they were currently in the midst of promoting. “It’s nothing. Promise.” 

“It’s something to me,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “We gonna talk about it?” 

He sighed, his hand rubbing his exhausted eyes. If they had not been about to engage in a difficult conversation, she would have smiled at how much he resembled their twin boys when they were fighting sleep. 

While Michael enjoyed press runs and promoting his work, pulling double duty as the director and lead of Creed III meant that this was the most exhausting press run in a long time. The only one that rivaled it in his mind was Black Panther. And he knew his actions earlier that evening were both a symptom of that exhaustion and the cause of more exhaustion for himself, his wife and their respective media teams. 

Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan and Michael B. Jordan were originally having a ball promoting Creed III together. However, tonight proved that the good vibes of their press tour could not last forever. Given their status as “movie stars,” neither of them were strangers to the occasional fan interaction that crossed the lines of human decency and decorum. Generally, they both knew how to brush it off and defuse the situation for all involved. But tonight was not one of those nights. When a fan grabbed Charlotte’s arm to try to force her to take a photo with him while on the red carpet promoting the event, Charlotte, at first, tried to handle it herself. She tried to remove herself from the vice grip around her arm, her face struggling to maintain a cheerful disposition despite wanting to grimace in pain. However, when his grip would not loosen or break, it only took mere seconds for her husband to abandon the interview he was doing further down the carpet and rush to her aid. His threatening tone did nothing to assuage the man holding her as he demanded a photo nor did Michael want to hear Charlotte’s weak attempts to agree to take the photo to end the chaotic scene forming around them. 

A one-two punch from Michael later sent the fan on his ass with a menacing threat to never put his hands on his wife again. Charlotte barely had time to process as Michael whisked her away from the carpet and her husband checked her for any additional injuries. It took longer than it should’ve for her to convince him that she was unharmed so he would  return to the carpet to finish his interviews and the evening and party to honor the movie and his hard work could continue. 

More than anything, Charlotte was frustrated and embarrassed. This incident had now gone viral, much to her chagrin, with the entire internet dissecting she and Michael’s decisions. Thankfully, most were on their side, though there were some victim blamers who felt Charlotte should have just taken the photo to keep the peace. And though she hated it, she did not disagree with them. However, she hated that the discourse was now more focused on a crazy drunk fan than her husband’s hard work and directorial debut. 

At the mention of the incident, he eyed her bare arm, a look of rage passing across his face as he took in the blossoming bruises on her usually flawless skin.

Michael, on the other hand, was so filled with visceral rage and guilt that he did not even enjoy the rest of the night. He could not tell you what happened at the event, who he spoke to, or what he even said. He did not allow Charlotte out of his sight for a single moment the entire evening. While she worked the room with the unruffled grace and poise of a star, his eyes followed her like a hawk, ready to jump in if someone so much as stared at her for too long. He had to be diligent, because the one time he was not, his wife was let bruised and it could’ve been significantly worse. 

"It stings but it’s not too bad. Promise,” she offered him a similar refrain. “I’ve had worse too, unfortunately,” she chuckled, referencing her past. Her words echoed her husband’s earlier statement. Assurances that they were ok were all they could seem to offer each other but it still felt insufficient in putting the other’s soul at ease. They could feel the restlessness in each other, the guilt and fears they felt but did not want to voice.  

"That doesn't make me feel better," he remarked, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

Charlotte winced, "Touche." She should have known mentions of her past would not ease her husband's heart, only fire him up farther. "I'm ok though, Bakari. Seriously." 

"He could've hurt you, Els. Why didn’t you get my attention? How long were you struggling with him before I noticed?” 

Charlotte sighed, she wanted to lie but she knew it never worked with Michael. He always saw through her. 

“Not long… just like 10 seconds or so.” 

“Too many seconds too long. The moment he touched you, you should’ve gotten me to handle it.” 

Charlotte threw her hands up in the air and scoffed, “You aren't my bodyguard, Bakari! You're my husband and during this press run, you're my director and co-star. I was… I was trying to avoid causing a scene at your event. It’s not about me or our relationship. This entire thing,” she waved her hands as she referenced their press tour, “Should be about you. This is your moment. And it doesn’t do shit for your reputation for the world to see you boxing fans in real life behind something small.” 

Michael’s eyes bugged out of his head. “’Something small??’ Nah fuck that. I don’t give a fuck about t-this press tour, my reputation, or any of that other shit if you’re in danger or hurt, Els. And some nigga grabbing you like he owns you ain't small shit to me. Your physical safety ain't small shit to me. Look me in the eye and tell me that wasn’t triggering for you… the way he touched you… manhandled you like that.” Her eyes shifted away from his at his statement. The truth was she could not say that. “Exactly. You don’t do shit for me pretending like it didn’t bother you when I know it did.” 

“I just… don’t want to see you get hurt because of me. What if he had tried to hit you o-or pulled out a weapon o-or something? I don’t want you to feel like you gotta protect me all the time. And I don’t wanna be a burden to you like that and mess things up for you.” 

He tugged gently on her arm, pulling his wife into his lap so her legs were straddling his thighs. She settled on his lap, his hands going to her waist. 

“Look at me,” he demanded gently as her eyes stayed trained on his chest, her guilt causing her to avoid his gaze. “None of that. Look at me, honeybee.” At the sound of his favorite nickname for her, she lifted her eyes to meet his. “I know you don’t need me to defend you or protect you. But you will never be a burden to me, ever. And you can never mess anything up for me. Protecting you isn’t a burden or a-a nuisance, Charlotte. And it ain’t an instinct I can turn off just because we’re surrounded by fucking cameras and at a work event. I never want to see you look like you did tonight, to feel unsafe when I’m 20 feet from you. That shit aint happening on my watch, aight?” He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her bruised arm before sitting back up. “The night was still amazing, he deserved it and I don’t regret it and our team will figure out how to spin it tomorrow. I aint worried so you shouldn’t be either.”

She nodded, her hands resting on his bare chest. “You shouldn’t feel guilty either. If there is one thing I’ve always been with you… it’s safe. You make me feel safe.” 

She moved her hands to the bottom of her jade silk night gown before pulling it over her head in a swift movement, revealing her nude body beneath. She smirked at how quickly the frustrated in his eyes changed to lust. She knew when Michael got worked up, sex was one of his favorite ways to decompress, to lose himself in the act. It was a favorite for her too. 

“Will you let me say thank you, love?” Her fingernails trailed down the deep V toward his boxers as she sucked on the skin on his neck, feeling his erection start to grow beneath her. “For loving me,” she placed a kiss on his chest. “For protecting me.” Another kiss on his V right above his boxers. “And for always keeping me safe.” Her mouth was almost salivating as he quickly shed his boxers, his manhood at attention for the love of his life. 

However before she could get a taste, he stopped her. He lifted her head to meet his eyes and studied her for a moment. 

“You sure you’re aight?”

She nodded and smiled at him, kissing him softly. “I’m good, promise. Now let me work… please,” she bit his lip gently cause him to chuckle, his desire for sleep completely forgotten. 

Read Chapter 1 of MBJxfamous OC series

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future MBJ one shots!

[pinkroseblooms]

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Uramichi may not like birthdays, but he might like you. 2.5k A/N: Official art from Gaku Kaze; Uramichi Omota/F!Reader, lots of fluff and some humor. TW: Mentions of depression and self esteem issues (kinda a given considering it's Uramichi, but still) Enjoy!

Working on Together with Maman was one of the most thankless, tedious jobs you’ve ever been underpaid to do. While the director got to lord over the staff and the actors got some praise and respect, you were just one of the many unsung heroes behind the scenes. Editing out Uramichi Omota’s regular mental breakdowns and existential crises from the show’s footage was a full time job in and of itself, but you did it every week without fail for the past three years. At this point you could practically do it in your sleep; sometimes Uramichi’s strained, desperate attempts to keep a cheerful expression on his face made regular appearances in your dreams. You suspected the void that was his stare would haunt your mind long after the time came for you to leave Together with Maman .

You did feel a bit guilty at the twinge of resentment you had toward the cast when they got the lion’s share of the glory. After all, they all had their good points: to start, Kumitani was fairly considerate of the staff, particularly those on the lowest rungs of the workplace hierarchy. Speaking of hidden kindness, despite Utano’s complaints, she was a devoted and thoughtful girlfriend. Iketeru’s childish wonder and joy was infectious; he hardly ever complained and was very appreciative. Even Usahara with his bad habit of putting his foot in his mouth, was still committed to a certain level of professionalism and was quick to amend for his mistakes. When everything was said and done, you had a fondness for them all.

Last but not least, there was Uramichi. One works with many different types in the entertainment industry and you were no stranger to washed up, jaded, regularly drinking their weight in booze performers putting on a show off and on camera but Uramichi was the worst.

Needless to say, you were crazy about the man.

Today was Uramichi’s 32nd birthday and though he no doubt would prefer to ignore such a day all together, you couldn’t help yourself. This was the perfect time to do something to show your appreciation for Uramichi and not just as a gymnast oniisan. With any luck, he might not hate it. In fact, you were certain he was going to love what you chose to do.

After making up an excuse to get his attention, Uramichi dutifully trailed after you, grim faced and changed out of his costume. You intercepted him just as Usahara and a somewhat less enthusiastic Kumatani were going to usher their colleague to a bar for a night of begrudging celebration. As unlikely as it was that Uramichi would rather spend any evening doing more work, you thought he seemed a bit relieved to be taken away. 

“Sorry, this won’t take long.”

“It’s fine.” Uramichi assured you in the most unconvincing attempt you ever heard. “Your job is editing, right? What do you need me for?”

“I wanted to get your approval on a few things. I wanted to work in some parts of what you were saying to the kids before.”

“From the segment about labeling?” 

That particular sketch was meant to teach the children about putting their names on their school things. Doing this would help them keep track of their positions, as well as teach them about personal responsibility. It could even be a good chance to allow children to practice their spelling and penmanship. It all went about as well as it could have.

“The bit where you warned the children about adhering to the labels others will try to assign to you and how the pressures of society are designed to slowly crush any trace of individuality that doesn’t help them go with the flow was a bit long winded, but I think we can keep in bits and pieces.”

“You…want to keep it in?”

“I mean, it’s not a bad message.” You type in the passcode to the staff room. “The script is good, but you have a way of talking to kids so they can understand without talking down to them. Not everyone learns at the same pace; it helps when adults can get on a kid’s level. Most are too proud.”

“You,” Uramichi followed you into the room. “Are you saying I lack pride as an adult?”

“What? No.”

As you pull out a seat for Uramichi to use, his face says he doesn’t believe you. Seeing how despondent he is makes you want to call the whole thing off, but then you would have to come up with an excuse as to why you requested his presence in the first place. 

Anyone would be justified in feeling insulted at Uramichi’s knee jerk reaction to assume the worst; it’s hardly charming, but you get it. How much of Uramichi’s attitude is natural or something he uses like a shield is anyone’s guess. 

“I guess it makes sense. It’s not like we know each other that well. Besides, this is our first time speaking one on one and I had to lie to you.” 

Uramichi was glancing around the room; there wasn’t any projector or cameras or a computer. 

“Wait, so you don’t think I have any pride?”

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” You stare in disbelief. “I meant about looking over the footage. Hold on, I need to-”

“So then…was all that other stuff you said just to get me to come here?”

“No, it wasn’t. I’ve already got someone editing that segment anyway.” 

In the corner is an easel, like one of the props they use for presentations in the show. Instead of a whiteboard or a display of cartoon images, there’s a sheet covering up the project you’ve been working on just for today. 

“That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were going to lecture me about being more professional so you didn’t have such a heavy workload. I’m sure most of your time is taken up erasing the evidence of my family unfriendly fits of despair. My bad.”

“Even hearing you apologize is bumming me out.” You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that much trouble. Besides, it’s really not my place to scold you or the other cast members.”

“Why not? You have to make up for our screw ups. Don’t tell me it can’t be stressful. You look tired just being here.”

“That’s not really something you should say to a woman. Well, anyone really.”

The blank stare widens as Uramichi realizes what he implied, but you cut him off. Things have gotten awkward enough without dragging on this conversation. Besides, you brought him here to cheer him up, if that’s even possible.

“I hope you like this. I made it for your birthday. Well, I put it together. The kids made it.”

You unveil the display with a smile, hoping you had this right and Uramichi wasn’t going to walk out. Or worse, put on his fake smile to spare your feelings. You prefer an honest reaction to your efforts.

“These are all the drawings kids have sent in for the past year. I got the idea to save them up and make a collage.”

The board is covered in crayon doodles, rough sketches, and messy paintings. There’s some postcards and pages ripped from coloring books. Almost all of them are of Uramichi-oniisan in various costumes, mainly his tracksuit: in some he’s frolicking with Kumao-kun or Usao-kun or holding hands with Utano and Iketeru. Some illustrations are of Uramichi surrounded by children or animals or just random scribbles. There’s also a decent amount featuring Kotori-san but you try not to think about that too hard. 

“I thought maybe we could show the board in a show, but I wanted you to see it first. We could keep it safe in the studio, if you don’t have room for it in your place. It’s your birthday present.” 

Uramichi stands up to get a closer look; he doesn’t look appalled and you choose to take this as a good sign. You step to the side, trying not to seem too nervous when he stands by your side; after a minute, Uramichi still hasn’t said anything. Even so, you’re feeling more worried by the second.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Good.” You smile, but don’t feel too relieved. “You’re not just saying that, right? It’s okay, you can be honest. Is it too cheesy? Maybe I should have left out the ones with Kotori-san.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I hate that demon, but the kid’s probably worked hard to draw it. I don't mind so much. You said this took a year?”

“More or less. Uramichi, whatever you think, you’re appreciated. The kids see you do your best. It’s more than a lot of people bother to do. I figured you wouldn’t want a staff party, but everyone here sees it too. We’re glad to have you as our gymnast oniisan.”

Uramichi was still looking over the pictures. “You work a lot harder than I do.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Our jobs are just different.”

“But no one gives the behind the scenes crew much credit. I’ve never been especially considerate to your job before, but you spent a year making me a present?”

“I only collected the drawings. It only took a couple hours to actually put it together.” You replied. “Is this too much?”

“Yeah. I don’t deserve this.” Uramichi told you bluntly. “I don’t get it. Why did you do this?”

For a long time now, you’ve watched Uramichi drag himself through the day; as much as he professes going through the motions, you know that’s not exactly true. 

“The thing is, I wish I could do more. I want you to have a nice birthday.”

“I don’t like celebrating my birthday. It just reminds me that I’m a year older and I’ve wasted more time. Which is strange, since I don’t even know why I feel that way. I can’t even imagine what else I would be doing if I wasn’t an oniisan, so why do I feel like I’m wasting time at all? I can’t do this forever. I’m already 32, but I don’t have anything planned for when I get too old for Together with Maman. ’’

“You could probably still find work on another show. It doesn’t have to be physical. Unless you want to leave the industry for something else entirely. I bet you could do something with your physical education degree; you’ve had experience with children, then maybe you could work that into whatever you go for next.” 

“That…sounds like a lot to think about.”

You can’t help laughing a little at how defeated Uramichi looks just from the prospect of having to start over. It’s oddly cute, like a sad puppy being told they have to go to the vet.

“It is, but if you do it one step at a time, it won’t be so daunting. That’s why I like birthdays: I see them as a chance to, well,” You scratch your head. “It’s like, yes, I made it another year! It wasn’t easy, but I’m here and that’s enough. It’s something to celebrate.”

“Hey, you should be more careful with how you phrase things.”

“What did I say wrong?”

“You’re going to make me think you have feelings for me or something.” Uramichi chuckles dryly, turning his back on you to head toward the door. “If I was Usahara, I would take this as a proposal. But anyway, thanks. I can’t remember when someone tried so hard. I guess I should return the favor. I’m being emotionally blackmailed into going out tonight: if you want, you can join. Or not. Do you drink?”

“Yes, to both.”

“Both?”

“I wanted to tell you this now, before I start taking classes full time next month. Uramichi, I like you. I do, so,” You clear your throat. “Happy birthday. I hope you’ll still accept the poster. It’s more from the kids than me anyhow. I was going to bake you something, but I wasn’t even sure if you liked cake or-”

“You talk a lot. Hold on, I need a minute.”

Uramichi has his head in his hands; he looks pale and visibly disturbed. It seems like your confession wasn’t appreciated, but you could have guessed as much. Maybe you’re too different or maybe Uramichi just isn’t interested in dating.

You can respect that, no matter how much it hurts you. In hindsight, it would have been better to keep quiet or just wait until your time was done at the studio, but you naively assumed Uramichi might like hearing someone cared. Not everything comes with conditions or ulterior motives; sometimes the pay off is as straightforward as making someone else’s day a little easier to get through. 

“I’m sorry. I should go.” You make your way past him to the door. “I hope you enjoy your night!”

“Wa-wait don’t just leave! You can’t drop a bomb like that and just breeze past like-like-!” Uramichi stumbles to get to you before you rush outside. “You’re serious? Did Usahara put you up to this?”

“No.”

“Well, are you, like, sure? You didn’t mistake me for someone else?”

“You’re Uramichi Omota?”

“Yeah.”

“If this makes you uncomfortable, you really don’t have to worry, I never said anything to anyone else.”

“It’s not that. I’m just…processing. Do you really?”

“You know, maybe the next segment we do should be on active listening skills.” You cross your arms. “Uramichi, this isn’t rocket science. If you’re not interested, okay. I’ll live. I don’t mind being single, but I wouldn’t be bothering you with this if I wasn’t serious.”

Uramichi seems calmer, but no less baffled; it’s probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen him emote at once that wasn’t irritation or exhaustion. Surely he has had other girls confess to him before; you heard he was pretty popular in school. You don’t see why he’s having a hard time handling this one. 

“When I was drunk, I said I thought you were cute. I wouldn’t put it past that damn bunny to try to rope you into one of his pranks.”

You grin. “You did? When?”

“Come on, I’m embarrassed enough. I’m too old for this.”

“For what?”

“To act this way.” Uramichi sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I hate it. It’s like I’m back in high school or something. It’s awkward and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t you already feel that way?”

“That doesn’t help.”

“So then?” You shrug your shoulders. “Am I cute enough to date?”

To your surprise, Uramichi’s cheeks flush slightly; you wonder if your own nervousness is showing. Truly, adults pretend as much as kids do. 

“Is that offer for a drink still valid? Unless you don’t want me flirting with you in front of everyone.”

“No way.” Uramichi objects. “I don’t want to deal with that headache. Let’s not say anything until after you’re done working here.”

“Oh, now who’s making big plans for the future?” You can't resist a little more teasing. "I thought looking that far ahead was too much to handle?"

“That was when I didn’t have something to look forward to.”

Uramichi might not have meant it to sound like a line; he said it with the same bland, borderline monotone that he usually spoke with, but you feel butterflies all the same. 

[haloxsaisha]

So Good.

[Lewis Hamilton x Actress!Reader]

Based on: So Good by Halsey.

Warnings: Angst, Abu Dhabi and Monza 2021 (I'm so sorry), some fluff, few cheesy dialogues (cause I'm a dumbass), depression, insomnia, eating disorder and weight loss.

Word Count: 15.5K words (I've never written this much in my life so far, I'm so proud of myself).

A/N: My first Lewis fic, I wasn't expecting it to be done with during the Abu Dhabi race week but oh well💀 I'm personally quite happy with how this turned out! I hope y'all like it <33

Bold and italicized font: song lyrics.

Italicized font: flashbacks.

“I remember the night, I was so frustrated.”

You could only bury your hands, head filled with shock and completely blank.

You never thought this would ever happen to anybody, let alone just him. Nobody who had watched the sport did.

Everything inside you began to sink in the moment the whole mess about unlapping the cars started and as the rest of the race unfolded, you felt yourself crumbling.

Lewis staying in his car in silence, in disbelief at the parc ferme had been playing on your mind again and again.

You were supposed to be there. You had to be there for him.

You had apologized to him multiple times for not being there in a championship decider race, especially at a win that was so historically important but he dismissed your countless apologies saying that he could understand. You had been shooting for a movie in London since November, which also meant that you hadn't met each other in more than a month, work and COVID restrictions making its way in. There was one thing that you and Lewis always stood by, which was that your jobs would be given the first priority. Understandable from both sides because your works usually involve a lot of people, meaning that compromising on it was quite hard and it was also very important to both of you from an emotional perspective, although you had to admit the Formula 1 driver was reaching an equivalent position to your work in your heart.

You watched him speak in the post race interview and then the moment he shared with his father, leaning his head as he took in the encouraging words being whispered in his ear. He had always been so strong and it was something you admired about him.

You sent him a message (which you hoped would provide a bit of comfort), mentioning that what happened was unfair, he deserved that win after everything he'd been through the entire season and that night and how proud you were of him. Also adding that he could call you when he felt like doing so because he wouldn't be in the headspace to talk to people at the time.

Seven hours later, you were done with your scenes for the day at ten in the night. The first thing you did after entering the vanity was checking your phone and your message to him was still at 'delivered', which increased your worry and anxiety.

After a bit, you got the idea of dropping a message to Angela, who was somebody you were close to too. You knew the Wolffs, Miles and Daniel, you even met his parents, stepmum and his siblings too when you'd been to the Silverstone race but Angela was somebody you bonded along with very well. She was one of the sweetest persons you'd met and also took care of you like an older sister would whenever you were around.

But you'll only get a response a while later since it's probably the wee hours at Abu Dhabi right now, you thought as you sighed. The race and your work has already drained out all your energy and despite your mind being absolutely restless because of how anxious you felt, but you had to drive yourself to sleep somehow. The director wouldn't be happy seeing her lead actress with puffy eyes and barely any energy the next day.

By the time you landed on your bed, it struck midnight and your phone let out the notification sound, showing the message from Angela which said that Lewis wasn't doing great and hadn't spoken to anybody yet.

Now how were you going to be able to sleep after knowing that?

“I touch your hand for the first time, I see it on your face, then another lifetime's flashin' by.”

"You see the star there? That one's called Sirius." he tells you, pointing to a specific region in the night sky.

"I didn't peg you to be somebody who was familiar with Harry Potter references, Hamilton." you give him a surprised, yet impressed look.

"There's a lot more to me than meets the eye darling, you'll see." he tells you cockily and you playfully rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

"This might just be one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen." you said in awe, your eyes fixed at the sparkling stars laid on an endless canvas of the dark blue sky.

"Mhm yeah, it definitely is." the sweet and distracted voice of the man who'd been surrounding you and your thoughts for the past couple of months came through and you turned your head towards him, finding him looking at you.

You felt your cheeks heat and you could only let out a giggle in response, not knowing how to respond because of how flustered he made you feel.

Lewis Hamilton was definitely a lot more cheesy than one would ever assume.

"I'm sorry I couldn't plan anything fun, there's pandemic restrictions so everything around is almost shut." he apologizes and you melt at how heartful he sounds about it.

"Don't be ridiculous Lew, I've loved every moment of this date so far." you assure him with a soft smile. Star gazing with somebody you've admired for so long as a first date was something that nobody could beat.

"Well, how can I make the date better?" he asks and your eyes light up in silent laughter thinking he's joking but then you look at him, it turns out that he was actually being serious.

Dear god, what type of dates had this man been on?

"Well that's a hard one because I feel like the date has already met the standards." you pretend to think for a moment "Maybe you could let Roscoe join us?" you ask him, giving him a grin which made him fall for you even more.

"Now that's not fair." he playfully whines "This time is for us. He loves you too much, will take away all your attention from me." he said, referring to all the times the both of you spend with your mutual friends. He was right, the bulldog did take a lot of your time.

"Well I've at least gotta win over one heart right?" you said, reflecting your doubts about him considering if the thing between the both you was anything serious or not.

"Well in that case, his heart will be the second one you've won over from this house." he said and you looked at him, your eyes softening with warmth and your cheeks turning red as you move closer to him.

He feels it too, you thought as he wrapped his arm around you, making you sigh in bliss.

Nearly two years later, the morning after the catastrophic race, the first thing you saw after waking up were the words "I don't think I can do this anymore, I need some space and time away." on your phone and at that moment, you had been absolutely destroyed.

It felt like everything in you had just been dropped down and shattered without any noise, you just feel so hollow and empty on the inside.

You couldn't ridicule him for feeling devastated, anybody would understand how much yesterday meant to him and how it affected him even if they didn't know him personally.

But you believed that you were comfortable enough to be with each other through any situation, happiness or despair. You believed that he found the same comfort, solace and safety that you found in him.

But it turns out that he didn't. The both of you went all the way from a video call like a regular couple would before the race to a text like somebody that didn't really mean anything to him a later, he pushed you out.

“I bet you're happy and that's fine. But I regret just one thing, I never got to change your mind”

He'd been back on the screens for the next season. Despite all the news about him discontinuing racing, you knew he'd go back.

Racing was everything to him, it was quite literally everything he'd known. He'd spoken openly about the struggles that him and his dad faced to reach where he was in the racing industry.

He knew how to rise up from the worst moments, he always had it in him.

You were still a mess. It had been almost three months since the text which broke everything in you. But there he was, having interviews with his teammate, a happy grin on his face.

Being an F1 fan for a long time, you always kept up with whatever news was on about the grid and Lewis had quite the spotlight when it came to headlines about his professional life or personal life.

You knew that he wasn't really the person for serious relationships after a point in his career. All of his focus was on Formula 1, rightfully so, which was why one night stands and short flings were what he went for.

You knew that even before you met him, you knew it whilst being friends but you still agreed to date him despite that one thing freaking you out. He had a hold on you, such an aura around him. You were always in this bubble of happiness, positivity and peace when you were with him.

Although his past relationships made you think about a lot of 'what if-s', how could you say no to a guy who made you feel like that?

Well, this was the consequence of giving in to emotions rather than logic. Your heart had been shattered like fritted glass, while he was back to normal like the break up was nothing but a minor collateral damage.

Work was always a top priority but all those moments that the both of you shared had a lot of meaning right?

“And I'm doin' okay. In the back of my mind, all I hear is your name”

The last time you slept well was the night before the Abu Dhabi race. You were normally a light sleeper, which gave you a pretty decent amount of sleep to feel good the next day.

But ever since that night, your sleep had come down only a few hours every week. You'd just walk about the room feeling restless, scroll through your phone or laptop or the television to pass time, there were some days where you just stared at the ceiling, the thoughts in your head just rushing in with memories of Lewis and you'd end up bursting into tears, sleeping over taking you after your eyes would turn red and puffy. And after two or three hours, you'd be awake again, tossing and turning around the bed.

And it was safe to say the sight of food started making you feel sick, your face would literally scrunch at the sight of it. But you still had to eat a minimum amount of food that would help you survive a day at work. Completely cutting out on food, which you had the urge to do, would completely affect the image on you and your career, which you felt was too risky.

Everybody had noticed you spiralled down, you could feel it too but you just stopped caring about anything after a point, you just felt so empty in your head to push yourself. Acting was the only thing that had you taking steps forward in life.

Soon enough, there were articles out on the news about you, commenting on the drastic weight loss that had been noticed in you, caused by the change in your eating habits. Your fans also began to notice how your use of social media had come down drastically, since you always had the habit of interacting with them frequently and also shared random pictures and videos from your day at work, especially if it was in a place far from home.

And that made the pressure from the people close to you increase. After getting to know about your break up with Lewis, your parents and close friends urged you to talk more, to let out how you were feeling. But you always convinced them by saying that you were alright, that you understood why he needed the break up and you just went along with life, your work satisfying you at the moment.

The moment you came back home after you were done with the movie you were working on for the past couple of months, the first thing your mum did was make you sit next to her and reminded you of all the hard times you'd been through, of all the people you had in your life who still cared for you and loved you, about how there were people out there who admired your work.

And that's when it struck you, that yes, you did lose a particular feeling love in your life. But there was so much more to life that made living your life whole heartedly rather than making it more painful for you, more that you'd already been through because of your heart getting broken by a certain British man.

You took a small break from your work and the fast life around you, spending the time with your family and friends, parallelly going to therapy as well. Although the scar of that heartbreak was always going to remain, the slow paced yet quality time helped your wounds heal little by little.

And then you were back to work, feeling better than you'd been for the past couple of months. You were able to breathe freely, feeling the light weighted space in you.

But there were still certain things that reminded you of him. One day, you saw a bull dog being taken on a walk by its owner, your mind would fly to how Roscoe would lie down in between you and Lewis, snuggling in the night. The smell or sight of tea would remind you about how the both of you would keep arguing about whether tea or coffee was better, you loving coffee and him being always so British and loving tea. But nevertheless he knew how to make coffee the way you liked it and you knew the same for his tea. The sound of a piano would remind you of the times he would play it and sing his favourite songs, even teaching you the basics of how to play it sometimes. Stargazing and watching Formula 1 was something you just stopped altogether, not being able to handle the intensity of the emotions it brought in you.

If there was anything that made you feel relieved now, it was about how it didn't hurt as much as it used to and how the control he had your thoughts had come down.

"Talkin' wildly out of context, I wish things were different. But I'll never know”

What the hell just happened, you thought as you looked at the screen of the TV in the garage.

It took you everything to not break into a string of curse words but if anything, you were really worried if Lewis was okay.

The man literally had a car on top of his with the tyres nearly touching his head, dear god.

And you had no clue how he would react after coming back to the garage. He wasn't the one to tantrums but was he somebody who just stayed quiet? Did he deal with the anger he felt? Would he like having anybody around him to comfort him? Or did he prefer being alone?

You had spent a good number of days with him, an amount of time that could turn into a bunch of months if you added them up, but all the races you'd been to for the past year were always good ones. You were there when he won his seventh world championship but this was the first time you were around during a bad race, a one with a scary DNF.

He didn't know you were here for the race. Due to the COVID protocols, you had to quarantine for a few days before being able to meet Lewis and you didn't have a break or gap of that many days that often which made being at his races quite hard. So you thought that you could surprise him at the Monza GP, coming into the garage after he got into the car.

What you planned was to hide in some corner of the Mercedes garage and meet him in his driver's room after he went there, yelling a cheerful "surprise!". But you obviously couldn't do that now, considering what just happened. How you would meet him was barely on your mind now, you were scared about how he was after the crash.

"Hey, he's back in his driver's room. You can go and meet him now." Angela came and told you, a few minutes after you were restlessly tapping your feet up and down.

"Oh thank god, how is he? No injuries right?" you ask her anxiously, a shaky breath leaving your body.

"He's alright now, nothing serious has happened to him. He has some headache and pain in the neck, he'll be back to normal in a matter of some time." she assures you, giving you a comforting smile and places her around your shoulder, knowing how worried you get about him.

"Would he be alright with having me around now Ange? I think he'd want some silence for now." you said, giving her an unconvincing smile.

"Don't be ridiculous, he just had a scary race. None of his family and close friends are around now either, he'll obviously love to have you around now. You'll make his day better and he'll calm down." Angela convinces you and you walk towards his driver's room, still debating in your mind if you should step in or not.

Angela knocks the door and speaks out so that Lewis thinks it her, rushing towards the team before Lewis opens the door so that the both of you can have your space.

The sound of the room's door opening brings you out of your over thinking. "Um, hey?" you tell him in a shaky voice, eyes scanning over him to see if he was alright. Of course Angela wouldn't lie to you but for some reason, it wasn't sinking in your mind until you saw him.

His eyes widened in surprise "You're here? Wait a minute- you're actually here." he says and his reaction made your nerves calmed down a bit.

"Well, the plan was to keep a rather happy surprise." you say, giving him a weak smile "If you want to be alone for some time, I'll go back and sit with Ange, I totally understand-" he cut off your rambling by taking your hand in his and pulling you in for a hug.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm glad you're here. C'mon in." he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his forehead on your shoulder "missed you and that scent so much." he mumbles as you place your hand through his braids, running your fingers through his hair to calm him down, like he always liked it.

"I can feel your heartbeat and it's going crazy. We've been together for a year and I still scare you?" he teases you, referring to the initial days of knowing him. Timid was an understatement. Having been a huge fan of the sport and him for years before you first met him, you always shared many shy smiles and few words with him, scared that your rather talkative side which always went on rambling would annoy him.

"I don't know- that just, that was scary. I'm so worried baby, the tyre was literally so close to your head." you sighed as he sat on the couch, placing you on his lap.

"Stuff like this happens time and again in racing, you've watched it over the years. At that moment I tried to shuffle inside the car as much as possible and lowered my head down, so nothing from the car reached my head. Don't worry sweetheart, I'm totally alright." he says, rubbing circles on your waist in the hopes of calming you down.

"Ange told me you have a headache and neck pain though, don't lie to me." you mumbled, pushing away the braids to a side and placing a small kiss on his forehead. He just gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes signifying that it'll be gone soon and he places his head on your shoulder, snuggling in for comfort as you placed your hand on his back and rubbing it up and down.

Thinking of the memory from that day made you wonder only one thing. Would the both of you still be together if you were together? If he would've seeked your comfort or just push you away nevertheless.

You guess you'd never know, Monza was one DNF while what happened at Abu Dhabi was something brought in such loss and affected his perspective about his career and life.

You knew it didn't end well, there were so many things left unspoken between the two of you. It was bad, but both of you would've been so good together.

[stxrrynxghts]

Have been reading your analyses since I've returned to Tumblr. Please make one of the Draupadi that we see in pop culture and the canon Draupadi, if you haven't already. Thank You so much :)

Okay! So, here I go!

So, Draupadi in pop culture is mostly two things, the shows, and the books. Let me start off with the books. I am taking three main books as base:

Karna's wife- The outcast queen: This book is based on some fictional girl named Uruvi, who is the Princess of Pukhya (ig?). She and Karna are the typical Wattpad OCs here. Draupadi here happens to be the female Arjun in Karna related stories, someone who is "jealous" of Uruvi. Uruvi happened to be involved with Arjun, beforehand, idk, am not much aware about this book. Uruvi seems to believe that the disrobing of Draupadi is a private moment b/w Karna and Drau, and that Drau is in love with him. Ugh.

Arjun-Without a doubt: DK much about this one, but apparently, Draupadi is jealous of fucking GANDIVA of all things. Oh, pls, do u srsly think that she has that to be jealous of? If I were this book's Draupadi, then I would be jealous of Nakul, for his insanely good looks-

Palace of Illusions: again, IDK much, but IK this much, that this book as well, loves to show the DrauKarn agenda. Plz. Draupadi does not need to be in love with the man who wanted her disrobed.

My conclusion, with these 3 main books, is that these authors love to degrade a perfectly fine female character. Pop culture Draupadi has ruined her image. Close your eyes and think about Draupadi, and think what you get in mind. Is she angry/short tempered? Is she always raving about her revenge? Is she being blood-thirsty? Is she being well...self righteous? Is she being jealous of her co-wives? If yes, then that is NOT her. That is a shadow, an insult. And trust me, these pop culture influences ruin your image of her to the extent that you CANNOT differentiate at all b/w the real her and the fake her.

Now, part 2, is Draupadi in the shows. *Rubs hands* now, if you like any shows, I shall tell u, this is gonna be BRUTAL. No hate is meant to any actress who has played Draupadi.

BR Chopra's Mahabharat: The first mainstream adaptation of Mahabharata on screen. In my opinion, their portrayal of Draupadi WAS , IS and WILL BE....in the finest of words, shitty. She says the word "andhe ka putra andha", she refuses to marry Karna as he is a sutaputra (We will get on that soon), and she raves about "mere kesh", and is clearly bloodthirsty. Draupadi is not even mildly disgusted or shaken by the fact that her hair is drenched in someone's blood, and it makes her come off as inhumane, arrogant and selfish. Draupadi did have a heart, and canonically, was moved by the destruction of the whole Kuru dynasty. Roopa Ganguly could have been a fantastic Drau, IF, the directors did not do this. Her friendship with Krishna receives a plus point, as does the scene which SHOWS that she is in her periods during the game of dice.

Dharmakshetra: Draupadi here is just straight up...bitchy? She is being blamed by both Kunti and Gandhari for "causing the war". Oh pls, if someone should be blamed, it is your SONS. She was the victim there. But then, honestly, this Draupadi deserves it. She roasts Arjun for not loving her, but then does the EXACT same thing with her other husbands. She roasts Yudi for "loving his brother's wife". Plz, shut your mouth bae.

Kahaani Hamaaray Mahaabharaat Ki: Yup, this was the OG spelling. They have Anita Hassandani as Draupadi, and she is....well, acting like she is a part of some random nukkad naatak. I watched one episode, and that was enough for me. If you want your sanity intact, then don't watch it.

Draupadi: This show has quite the pretty Draupadi, but here, the other Pandavas are literally getting horny over Draupadi. They show her "wedding night" with each one of them, and Arjun actually says that he was jealous of the fact that Bhima got to sleep with her. And I am jealous that you get to rest your head on Krishna's shoulder and sob, Arjun, but do you see me complaining?

Suryaputra Karna: Draupadi is fucking weird here. The scenes are copied from StarBharat, clearly, and well ah. What do I say? This show is clearly not watchable for man kind.

RadhaKrishn: eh. Copied again, from StarBharat, and they showed the andhe ka putra andha wala thing, and my feelings are terribly hurt. *sigh* if I could get this director to gamble off the whole Production House to me, then the world would have been a different place.

will need full blown two reblogs, one for the canon, and one for StarBharat to cover this-

[ghostflowerdreams]

The Lost Boys (1987) Novel

Ever wonder what extra details or differences about the characters, scenes or what was left out when it comes to its novelization and the film? If not, I hope I made you curious enough to find out.

The Lost Boys by Craig Shaw Gardner, is a novelization of the 1987 American supernatural horror film directed by Joel Schumacher.

A mother and her two sons move to a small coast town in California. The town is plagued by bikers and some mysterious deaths. The younger boy, Sam, makes friends with two other boys, the Frogg brothers, who claim to be vampire hunters. Meanwhile the older boy, Michael, is drawn into the gang of bikers by a beautiful girl named Star. Michael starts sleeping days and staying out all night while Sam starts getting into trouble because of his friends' obsession.

This book has been out of print for over two decades and is a rare, highly sought-after item within this film's massive cult following. At the time I write this the prices for the physical book ranges from $300-$500. Even a previously used one can run up to $100 or more. You're best best is to stick to a digital format, which I heard there's a free PDF version somewhere online.

It's only 220 pages long and despite being so short it's a novelization that's pretty faithful to what was on screen. It even includes several scenes that were later dropped from the film, such as Michael working at the beach as a trash collector. The roles of the opposing gang, the Surf Nazis, who were seen as nameless victims of the vampires was actually expanded upon. It also included several tidbits of vampire lore, such as not being able to cross running water and salt sticking to their forms.

Anyway, here are my notes and thoughts about it, along with what I've learned from the novelization about the characters, their fictional world and whatnot.

Why did the Lucy, Michael and Sam Emerson move to Santa Carla, California?

"His mother had explained it to him [Michael] until he had practically memorized the words. Even after their little scandal his father was still a pretty important person in their part of town. There was no way they could stay in Phoenix [Arizona] without running into him. He didn’t want the kids, and Mom didn’t want him. So Michael and Mom were on their way to Santa Carla, along with brother Sam, dog Nanook, and all their worldly goods.

Their grandfather lived in Santa Carla. From now on they would stay with him."

It's never outright mention, but strongly implied that the scandal is that his dad was having an affair. Well, that's what I think because an affair would indicate premeditation or deliberate intent over a period of time, while cheating is usually a one-time event.

This would probably explain why Lucy's financial situation wasn't improved after the divorce. There was no repairing the relationship, especially if it's an affair. She just wanted the divorce to be done with as quickly as possible and have full custody of her sons, even if it meant she wouldn't get a fair amount for child support.

Fun Fact: Santa Carla is a fictional quintessential beach town, located in California. It was actually based on and filmed at Santa Cruz, however the name, Santa Carla is actually an anagram of Santa Clara.

Fun Fact 2: Santa Cruz also earned the moniker "Murder Capital of the World," because of the town's real life history with serial killers in the '70s. The film borrows that aspect from Santa Cruz as well.

Director Joel Schumacher thought the location fits so well for the fictional world of the Lost Boys' vampires.

"The movie didn't come together until I saw it [Santa Cruz]," he told the Santa Cruz Sentinel. "At the time, there was an enormous amount of transient kids moving through Santa Cruz. This is exactly where I would come if I was a teenage vampire." [x]

Fun Fact 3: In real life, a trip by car from Phoenix to Santa Cruz takes about 11 hours. I was curious about how long it would've taken for Lucy, Michael and Sam Emerson to drive all the way to Santa Carla. So I imagine it'll be about the same amount of time in the fictional world too. This is also good to know if you want to be super accurate or better plot out your Lost Boys fanfiction. XD

Also, in 1987 the average retail price of gas was $0.90 cents per gallon. [x]

Fun Fact 4: The most iconic part of the Santa Cruz boardwalk is the wooden red-and-white tracks of the Giant Dipper, which was feature in The Lost Boys and among other medias.

The Giant Dipper was built in just 47 days at a cost of $50,000. Today, labor and materials for merely painting the Giant Dipper are estimated around $300,000. It also now costs a little more to ride the classic coaster compared to May 17, 1924, when the Giant Dipper opened to the public. The fare then was 15 cents; today (as of 2023) it’s $8.00 per ride.

On February 27, 1987, the Giant Dipper and the Looff Carousel (which was also in the film) was designated a National Historic Landmark. I tried to find the fare during that time period, but the closest I could get was an old article from Los Angeles Times which mention that the fare for the Giant Dipper was $2.00 in August 12, 1990. [x]

What is the name of Michael and Sam's father?

We don't know in the film, but the readers find out that his name is Lance.

Did you know that the Lost Boys entrance scene in the novelization differs from the film?

And then the Lost Boys walked in. Another gang, a lot better dressed than the Surf Nazis, but still a gang. Their leader, a tall, blond fellow named David, walked up and got right on the slowly moving carousel. The ride was almost over. The other Lost Boys followed him on. And as they spun around, Shelly managed to smile in David’s direction. David smiled back and nodded his head slightly in greeting, a polite gesture, the sort of friendly nod you might see a hundred times in the course of a day. Greg didn’t think so. He scowled at his girlfriend and jumped up from his seat. He took a couple steps in the Boys’ direction, but the other gang was moving too. No, not to face Greg. He realized they were going to go by him as if he weren’t even there. Greg stood up and said something that wasn’t exactly flattering. He shoved the Lost Boy out of the way. But now David was there. The calliope played on. Waltzing Matilda. The Surf Nazis joined Greg. Waltzing Matilda. The Lost Boys closed ranks as well. If the Surf Nazis wanted a fight, they were ready. Won’t you go a-waltzing, Matilda, with me. Greg stared at David. David took a half step forward. He found a nightstick pressed against his Adam’s apple. David let his eyes follow the nightstick down to a beefy hand, attached to the body of Big Ed. All three hundred pounds of Big Ed, a security guard with no love for Surf Nazis or Lost Boys. The carousel ground to a halt. The music stopped. The ride was over. Big Ed’s mouth was small for his head. When he opened it, his voice was soft after the calliope’s “Waltzing Matilda.” “I told you to stay off the Boardwalk.” David stared at the guard, not moving for a long moment. Big Ed’s eyes were small, too, but the anger there made up for what they lacked in size. David smiled and turned his head toward the Lost Boys. “Come on,” he said to the others, “let’s pull.”

That was the novelization and in the film there's a noticeable difference...

Shelly spots David coming up from her left and their eyes meet for a brief second, catching his attention. She turns and he stops behind her, cupping her cheek to look deeply into her eyes.

He walks off and she continues staring after him. Greg who was sitting right beside her on the ride, realizes they were having a moment. In his jealously he puts his hand on her face to push her away and to take his anger out on Dwayne as he was the closest.

She snaps out of it, but is stuck in her seat trying not to get caught up in the scuffle. David see Greg trying to grab at Dwayne and he joins in by planting his hand on his face to keep him away.

They get interrupted by the security guard, who puts his nightstick against David's throat and drags him away. With all their attention on him he tells them all, "I told you to stay off the boardwalk."

With a short chuckle David grips at the nightstick and says, "okay, boys, lets go."

The guard releases him and before leaving David throws in a quick wink at the other gang.

What did Sam and Michael do when fighting about who would get the room that was closest to the stairs and the bathroom, and it had a great view of the backyard?

Michael nodded. There was also only one way to handle younger brothers. “Okay,” he said calmly. “I’ll flip you for it.” Sam glared back at Michael, but he didn’t speak. He knew as well as Michael that older brothers usually win out in the end. But Sam also knew that Michael’s offer was his only chance. “Okay,” Sam said slowly, as if he had to drag the two syllables from his lungs. Michael laughed, grabbed Sam, and flipped him upside down. This will show the little bugger! Thinking of Sam as a bugger made him laugh even harder. Michael gasped as white-hot pain shot through his body. He looked down to see Sam biting his thigh. “Owww!” Michael pushed Sam away with what energy he had left. “You little shit!”

This is one of the deleted scenes from the film. It instead jumps to Michael chasing Sam down the stairs. Lucy telling them to not run inside the house. Sam opens the sliding doors to one of the rooms to hide in, only to stop in shock of what he sees inside of it. Michael catches up to him, but also stares in surprise. It's their grandpa's taxidermy room.

What did the Emerson family do in the afternoon they arrived?

They spent it unpacking and having dinner (probably a pizza) when they were finished. Michael helped his mother with the dishes by drying them, while Sam was in the other room looking for some music to put on.

He’d made another decision this afternoon too. He put the platter down at the back of the dish rack. There’d be no better time to tell her than now. “Mom,” Michael began. “I think I’d like to get a job.” His mother looked up from the sink, a question in her eyes. She didn’t ask it. “School’s only a few weeks away,” she mentioned. He took another plate from her hands. He dried it for a moment before he spoke again. “I was thinking of not going back to school.” The stereo kicked to life in the other room. His mother frowned at Michael.

Before she can say anything about it Sam and Nanook rushed in. Sam grabs her hand and pulled her away from the sink to dance with him.

Mom and Sam boogied all over the kitchen, while Nanook barked for emphasis. The two of them danced in his direction, reaching out to drag him in. Michael shook his head and backed away. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do. But he really didn’t feel much like dancing.

This is another deleted scene from the film. The difference however, between the novelization and the film's deleted scene is that Michael doesn't pull away and lets himself get dragged into dancing with them.

In the actual film, however, it jumps straight to the Emerson family (not including grandpa) exploring the boardwalk. Michael and Sam stick together to check out the live concert while their mother tries to get a head start on job hunting.

Fun Fact: In general, most public schools in California start the school year in mid to late August or early September.

If we're sticking to Santa Cruz as the basis for Santa Carla, that would mean the first day of school is in August. So the events of The Lost Boy film and novelization takes place on the last month of summer -- July. As that would certainly match with school being "only a few weeks away."

How did Lucy get a job at Max’s Video?

She was looking for 'help wanted' signs at the boardwalk when she noticed a little boy crying near a restaurant sign. He was all alone and looking very lost. Next to the restaurant was a well-lit store with a bright neon sign that read Max’s Video. She guessed that the boy might've wandered out of from there and took him inside it.

“This boy seems to be lost,” she began. She glanced around the store. Besides the youths, there were four other customers. “I thought maybe his parents might be in here?”

It wasn't long before a young woman rushed in and headed straight towards the little boy. After that Lucy talked to Max and he offered to interview her for a job at his store.

In the film Lucy walks pass a woman putting the security guard's picture up on a bullet board with other missing people posters. She awkwardly makes eye contact with her and continues on. She notices a 'help wanted' sign, but her attention gets draw away when she hears a little boy calling for his mother and that he can't find her.

Max watches in interest as the little boy and Lucy interact outside his store. The Lost Boys walk in and he's immediately frowning at them, but his attention gets pulled back to Lucy as she walks in and tells him that the little boy lost his mother.

Everything after that is basically the same in the novelization.

Fun Fact: Lucy Emerson's name was chosen as a reference to the fictional character Lucy Westenra from the 1897 novel Dracula by Bram Stoker.

Fun Fact 2: Max is inspired by Peter Pan, as he is the leader of The Lost Boys and immortal. Just like Peter with Wendy, Max also wants Lucy to be the mother to his boys.

Who else worked at Max's Video store?

Maria, the cashier is an attractive young black woman. She shows Lucy the ropes and reveals that...

“You know, I’d be out on the street if it wasn’t for Max.” Maria laughed softly and shook her perfectly coiffed head. “Nobody would have given me a job the way I looked when I walked in here.”

It was Lucy's first day at work and she noticed that Max still hasn't shown up. What excuse was she given for his absent?

“Didn’t he tell you?” Maria frowned as she studied her perfect nails. Whatever she found wrong with them was completely beyond Lucy. “He only comes in here nights. He’s busy opening another store in Los Gatos. It’s going to be much bigger than this one.”

Maria also told her that...

Max usually showed up an hour or two before the store closed to do a little financial business back in the office. Besides that, she never heard from him, either.

Fun Fact: The town of Los Gatos, California does exist. It is located in the San Francisco Bay Area just southwest of San Jose in the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains. The drive to Los Gatos from Santa Cruz takes about 30-48 minutes, depending on traffic.

Los Gatos is Spanish for "The Cats". The name derives from the 1839 Alta California land grant that encompassed the area, which was called La Rinconada de Los Gatos ("The Corner of the Cats"), where the cats refers to the cougars (mountain lions) and bobcats that are indigenous to the foothills in which the town is located.

Sounds like it'll be a perfect place for a vampire to set up a second location (or make it into another possible hunting ground) as any deaths can be blamed on cougars, bobcats and hiking accidents.

It's a smart plan and we know that Max is the careful type (seeing as only the Lost boys knew his true identity and not a half-vampire like Star). He has lived long enough in Santa Carla to know it's better to keep a low profile and plan accordingly, especially for a more secure future.

What job did Michael get?

He had seen the notice the night before, tacked to a telephone pole along the Boardwalk: “Dayworkers wanted. $4.00/hour.” The notice had said to show up for work on the beach at seven a.m. From the crowd around him it looked like about thirty other people had read the notice too.

He was one of the lucky few who got picked to collect the trash on the beach. This was another deleted scene from the film.

Fun Fact: In 1987 California, the state's minimum wage had been $3.35 an hour since 1981. But it was raise to $4.25 an hour on July 1, 1988. [x] [x]

What motorcycle does Michael have?

Honda XL 250

What did Michael do with the money he earned from collecting the trash on the beach?

When dropping off Sam with their mother, he attempted to give it to her (along with the money he had leftover from Christmas). She thanked him, but said it was unnecessary and gave it back to him. She wanted him to save it for school and focus on being a teenager, not adult things like their financial situation.

Michael smiled as he looked at himself in the mirror. This was all right. He was glad his mother made him keep the money, after all. He squared his shoulders and frowned at his reflection, tugging the battered black leather sleeves until they were just right. This jacket made him look years older. Michael smiled and shoved his hands in the jacket pockets. With this jacket on, he belonged on a motorcycle. Those teenagers last night had nothing on him anymore. He told the shop girl with the spiky pink hair that he’d take it.

This was another deleted scene from the film. Instead it jumps to Michael on the boardwalk already wearing the leather jacket and checking out a small booth in which a girl was getting her ears pierced for $10.

Fun Fact: A thick, long-lasting leather biker-jacket is expensive, especially a brand new one. It would've cost around $300-$600. However, an affordable and good leather can still be found thrifted.

It sounds like Michael did just that because he found a used leather jacket, indicated by the "battered" sleeves for a decent price. It makes sense because I doubt he had worked or saved enough money to get himself a brand new one. He must've thrifted one for less than $90.

“What’s this?” Lucy opened the envelope to find a folded Christmas card with a half dozen folded five- and ten-dollar bills inside.

He might've had enough leftover to also get his ears pierced for $10, but before he can check Star popped up from behind him. She told him it was a rip-off and offered to do it for him for free.

Star and Michael introduced themselves to each other and learned that both their parents were once hippies. But before Star could go with him to get something to eat David interrupts them. He calls Star over and tells Michael to follow them and surprisingly Michael never once question how David already knew his name.

At Frog's Comics book store, what did Sam say to impress the Frog Brothers?

“If you’re looking for the diet frozen yogurt bar,” the first one added, “it went out of business last summer.” So this was it. His first real challenge in Santa Carla. Sam had to cool these guys out fast. “Actually,” he admitted, the slightest touch of boredom in his voice, “I was looking for a particular Batman, j Series E, Volume 26, Issue 14?” The two commandos looked at each other. “That’s a very serious book, man,” the first one said. “Very serious,” the other agreed. “Only five in existence.” “Four, actually,” Sam replied with the slightest hint of a smile. “And I’m always on the lookout for the other three.”

Fun Fact: The names of the Frog brothers, Edgar and Alan, are a reference to the classic writer of horror fiction, Edgar Allan Poe.

Fun Fact 2: The original comic book store, Atlantis Fantasyworld used in the film was actually located in downtown Santa Cruz—not on the boardwalk, as it appears to be in the film. It was also destroyed in the Loma Prieta earthquake of 1989 and has changed locations twice since then.

The shop's owner Joe Ferrara II even appeared as an extra in the film. He still carries the original #1 issue of 'Vampires Everywhere' that Sam reads in the film. The comic was created only for the film, and its opening page is signed by all of the cast members from the movie. I've heard that it's still on display at the shop for everyone to see and to take pictures with.

Fun Fact 3: In the film Sam doesn't say all that, just that he's "looking for Batman #14". It does exist and its status as an early Batman comic makes it valuable in its own right, but it’s not “only five in existence” type of rare. However, a 9.8 graded copy apparently goes for around $54,000.

What type of motorcycle did David have?

The Lost Boy gunned his bike. It was a Triumph, a machine big enough to make Michael’s Honda look like a toy. He eased up, letting the engine rev back down.

Fun Fact: Kiefer Sutherland, who played David broke his wrist in three places. They weren't filming at the time so he popped a wheelie on his bike, but hit one of the trolley car tracks and injured himself when he fell. He had to wear gloves the entire time to conceal the cast. They also modified his bike so that it was easier for him to used with one hand.

At The Lost Boys panel at FanExpo Dallas he recount this story and reveals that he wasn't just having fun on the bike, but he was showing off. This is because there was a cute girl on the boardwalk that he liked and wanted to impressed her.

Fun Fact 2: At the time of filming Kiefer (David) was 19 years old, Jami (Star) was 20 years old, Jason (Michael) was 19 years old, Alex (Marko) was 19 years old, Brooke (Paul) was 21 years old, Billy (Dwayne) was 22 years old and Chance (Laddie) was 10 years old.

This, however, doesn't mean that their characters were the same ages too. In the novelization we know for sure that Michael's 18 years old and once summer ends he'll be starting his final year of high school. Sam is 13-14 years old and would to be entering it. The Frog brothers are about the same age, but might be a year or two older than him. As for the vampire boys...we don't actually know.

In the fandom it varies, but the general consensus is that Dwayne is the oldest in the group (as in their bodies' physical age) and guessed to be 20-21 years old, David is 20-19, Paul is 18, and Marko is the youngest at 16-17.

As for who's been a vampire the longest it would be David as he's the leader of the group for a reason. The second oldest is usually a toss up between Dwayne and Marko though. But most usually go with Dwayne as the second in command. From the novelization we definitely know that Paul was the last one to joined the group before Star and Laddie.

We know this because Star mention how she was able to connect with him better than the others. She believed the reason for that was because he hadn't been a vampire as long as the others and still remembered what it was like as a human to be lonely and lost.

Anyway, I bring this up because the film was originally set to be directed by Richard Donner with Fischer and Jeremias' screenplay which was modelled on Donner's recent hit The Goonies (1985). They envisioned it as more of a juvenile vampire adventure with 13 or 14 year old vampires, while the Frog brothers were "chubby 8 year-old Cub Scouts" and the character of Star was a young boy.

When Donner committed to other projects, Joel Schumacher was approached to direct the film. He came up with the idea of making the film sexier and more adult, bringing on screenwriter Jeffrey Boam to retool the script and raise the ages of the characters.

Fun Fact 3: In the film and novelization we only know the Lost Boys' first names. And Dwayne's name was never said out loud in the entire film and was only known in the end credits.

Also, there's a bit of confusion within the fandom as some believed David's surname is Powers. It's not. In The Lost Boys: The Tribe (which is technically non-canonical) Shane Powers (who's actor, Angus Sutherland is actually Kiefer Sutherland's real life half-brother) meant it in a ‘blood brothers’ way.

Shane was a member of the Surf Nazi and while at a bonfire party (the very same one the boys took Michael to), the Lost Boys attacked the group. He survived their feeding frenzy, but got unintentionally turned into a vampire by David.

Why did Michael drink the "wine"?

It's a combination of being high on marijuana, peer pressure (mostly from vampire mind manipulation/compulsion nudging him) and he didn't actually understand what was really going on. He thought this was all a part of an initiation. That the final step was to drink the wine, and that Star was in on it too.

He smiled at David. He knew what they were doing. First the maggots, then the worms, now this. How much of a fool did they think he was? The wine really was as dark as blood. It was the best joke of all. He lifted the cup to his lips. He’d show David and the others that he wasn’t afraid of anything. “Good joke,” he said. “Blood.” They all watched him drink it. It was salty and sour for wine. Michael wondered where David had found it. It probably had been down in this cave ever since the earthquake.

Fun Fact: When they're eating Chinese food, David leaves his chopsticks sticking straight out of his and Michael's food. In many Asian cultures, including but not limited to Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese, share standard rules of table manners across the board.

One of the biggest taboos is placing your chopsticks vertically in your bowl, especially with rice. This is because it is not only brings bad luck but it is a sign of death. The act of sticking your chopsticks upright can be seen as an invitation for spirits to come to dine with you. In Vietnamese culture, it can also resemble a funerary incense bowl, which is often associated with the commemoration of the dead.

What happens after Michael drinks the "wine"?

He passes out and somehow gets home and into his bed. I'm guessing the Lost Boys helped him as they already knew where he lived. As for how they got that information they followed him because they originally planned for him to be Star's first victim, which she revealed to him.

“What did you do last night?’’ Sam asked. “You look totally wasted.” Michael shook his head. “I can’t remember much after the Chinese food that looked like maggots.”

And for some odd reason...

"The bottoms of your feet are covered with salt,” his brother replied. This was just too much to deal with. Michael stood up with a groan and began to shuffle out of the room. "I told you it was pretty weird Chinese food,” Michael culled to his brother as he walked out the door.

Fun Fact: I was curious about why would salt be sticking to the bottom of his feet so I looked it up.

Salt is known for having purifying properties that can ward off evil. Since vampires are often considered creatures of evil, it would make sense that salt can ward them off too.

For example, in many folklores the best way to stop a vampire (or most evil spirits, creatures, etc.) is to carry a small bag of salt with you. If you are being chased, you need only to spill the salt on the ground behind you, at which point the vampire is obligated to stop and count each and every grain before continuing the pursuit. If you don't have salt handy, some say that any small granules will do, including birdseed and sand. Another example is to simply toss salt over your shoulder. This is so you can blind any creature trying to sneak up on you.

However, salt wasn't used like that here so I did some more digging around and apparently it can also be used as a tracking device. It would be dumped on the bedroom floor of a vampire victim. The idea was that the vampire would step in the salt and the salt would stick to their bare feet, which would then allow the Buffys, Van Helsings, and Winchester Brothers of the world to follow the saline path back to the vampire's grave.

That brings me to my next question, where would the salt come from and why? The only possible explanation I could think of is that maybe Grandpa Emerson (being aware of vampires) could've put some salt around Michael's bedroom floor, especially after noticing he shows signs of vampirism. It could be a way to know if Michael is being targeted as the vampire's next victim or if he is one now, than Grandpa Emerson would know better in what direction to look for the main vampires' lair.

I'm probably overthinking it, but we don't really know all that much about him. Just that he's a retired businessman, has a small marijuana bush growing outside his kitchen's window, has taxidermy as a hobby, keeps his root beer and double-thick Mint Oreo cookies on the second shelf and he visits Widow Johnson a lot.

He could simply be a hermit and scarcely ever ventures out to town or is secretly an experienced vampire hunter that knows how to keep a low-profile. Of course, I find out that in the The Lost Boys Vol. #1 comic (which is a miniseries that picks up after the 1987 film) it's apparently the latter and there's a bit more to him than I thought.

But the more likely possibility is that maybe the vampires in The Lost Boys' universe all have salty feet (well, more like salt sticks, collects and/or coats their skin -- if that's the case it's probably unavoidable when they're living so close to the ocean) as a trait. It sounds like it was made up for the film to help people like the Frog brothers to identified vampires. Or maybe this only applies to Santa Carla's vampires?

What else did we learn about the vampires' weakness?

He [Michael] realized that he had turned the hot water off. It didn’t make any difference. The water still burned. He pulled his arm from the shower. What was the matter with the shower? He looked at the angry red welts running down his arm. The cold water had burned him.

Fun Fact: Water is also known as the source of life and so naturally works against the undead. On a practical level, it can also deter predatory creatures that hunt by smell, as water can misdirect or damp scent trails. But running water in particular is a traditional weakness in many vampire mythos. Vampires are thought to be helpless when submerge in it and can be destroyed to many variations of death (such as drowning) because of it.

This myth comes from the Church (in ancient times) trying to feel protected because it was believed that nothing evil could swim or cross running water.

The origin of this may be that Jesus was baptized in a river (washing away evil and sin), but undoubtedly helping the folklore is that running water is much cleaner and safer to live near than stagnant water. Stagnant water doesn't wash away harmful content, is more inviting to mosquitoes and other vermin, promotes mold, and so on.

Vampires are thought to be wretched and disease ridden abominations. Because of that the purity of the running water repels them. However, in some folklore vampires are known to be territorial creatures and don't cross running water, such as rivers and streams because it often serve as natural marker boundaries in the region for hunting territory.

So, if they really wanted to they can cross running water just fine, but they choose not to. It's an unspoken rule that all vampires follow in order to keep the peace with other vampires in the same area.

From this we can accurately deduced that the Lost Boys can't take showers, but can still take bathes. As for if they can cross bridges, or take boats I don't know. Some vampires can't cross running water under their own power or by their own will. Others can as long as they use a human under their control to carried them across, maybe they can still [transform and] fly or jump over it themselves?

I think it's more the latter than former, as we don't actually see it or read it, but it's implied that the Lost Boys jumped off [or hovered above] the Hudson's Bluff, which overlooks the ocean, with their bikes while they were messing with Michael. It's hard to tell what they were actually doing because of the thick fog.

What did Michael tried to eat or drink?

Besides, his brother was right. He should put something in his stomach. He opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of milk. Pain shot through his stomach and chest. He doubled over, dropping the milk.

The room was also spinning and pulsing, he could even feel his own blood surging through his arteries and veins...

Michael forced his head back down. He had to stop this somehow. He saw a mouse in the comer. A large mouse in a trap, its neck slashed and broken, but not quite dead. It struggled feebly in the comer. And it bled. Bright red droplets fell to the kitchen floor. The mouse pulsed and expanded, just like everything else around Michael. He didn’t care. All he could see was the blood. The mouse stiffened, eyes wide open, dead at last. Michael dragged himself over toward the dead rodent, heedless of the pain in his stomach and chest. He reached out his fingers to the pantry floor. He had to touch the blood.

Michael calmed down a bit after tasting some blood and the pain went away too, but he needed more. At that point he was falling into feral vampire mode and wasn't fully himself. He followed the loudest heartbeat in the house, which was his brother.

In the film this scene is slightly different. Michael picks up a carton of milk to drink it only to drop it and collapse in pain. Then it cuts to him with his face and body hidden in shadow as he climbs the stairs menacingly towards his brother.

What song was Sam singing to in the bathtub?

Sam sang along with the tape on his boom box. Clarence “Frogman” Henry croaked “I Ain’t Got No Home.” Sam croaked along. He might not have a home, but this bathtub was the next best thing.

What kind of dog is Nanook?

Nanook is an Alaskan Malamute (which look similar to Huskies) which are known for their peak at the top of their head, which resembles Bela Lugosi's classic Dracula hairstyle.

Fun Fact: To keep up with the Peter Pan theme, the name Nanook was inspired by the Darlings family pet dog, Nana.

Fun Fact 2: When Michael was giving into his hunger Nanook protected Sam by biting Michael's hand. In Peter Pan the crocodile is known to have eaten Hook’s hand and this scene was a little nod to it.

Fun Fact 3: Completely unrelated, but if you're curious about what the name Nanook means-- In the language of the Inuit people, “nanook” or “nanuq” means “polar bear.”

In Inuit mythology, Nanook was the master of bears, meaning he decided if hunters deserved success in finding and hunting bears and punished violations of taboos.

How does Star describe each of the the Lost Boys like?

All the Lost Boys were so different. Marco was always mysterious; Dwayne a little awkward. Paul was the comedian of the group. He’d do anything to get her to laugh. From the time she had first gotten to know them, David had fascinated her, but Paul had always been the one she could talk to. She sometimes wondered just why that was.

Which of the Lost Boys was recruited before Star and Laddie?

Before she and Laddie had come here, Paul had been the newest member of the gang. She thought that perhaps, more than the others, Paul still remembered what it meant to be lonely.

Readers also learn that Star ran away from home. The why is still unknown but we can correctly assume that it was from an unsafe or toxic environment. As for Laddie we still don't know his story, only that in the film his photo is on the back of milk cartons (such as the one Michael tried to drink from) saying he's missing. Oh, and that his last name is Thompson.

I originally thought he was just a random kid that the Lost Boys snatch in order to keep Star from leaving them. They knew she has a soft spot for children and they, in particularly, David (or Max, as nothing happens without his say so) exploited it.

However, the novelization implies that Laddie was with Star before ever meeting the Lost Boys. That while on the streets she came across Laddie and because he's so young, she couldn't resist the need to help him. Soon after they got lured in by the Lost Boys and tricked or forced into drinking the blood.

Maybe they turned Laddie first so that she wouldn't hesitant to follow him? Or they both drank it without realizing it and she continued to stayed for Laddie because he still needed someone who genuinely cared for his well-being. To not only protect him, but try and save him from a damned life.

In the film, the Lost Boys interaction with him show that they cared for him in their own way, but there's probably a good reason why we don't often see vampire kids.

Laddie's presence certainly helped to keep her grounded to her humanity too. Maybe that's why we never saw her vampire face? It takes a lot of inner strength to not give in. Readers get a better understanding of that from Michael's perspective because he couldn't snapped out of it, and would have done something reprehensible if it wasn't for Nanook protecting his brother.

Fun Fact: Well, more like it's an interesting fact...In the mid-1980s, the nonprofit National Child Safety Council began a nationwide program called the Missing Children Milk Carton Program by putting photos of missing children on the back of milk cartons. By March 1985, almost half of America’s independent dairies had adopted similar milk carton initiatives.

However, the milk carton campaign faded out in the late 1980s and was abandoned altogether when the AMBER Alert system was created in 1996. The replacement of paper milk cartons with plastic jugs also contributed to its demise.

How long was Star with the Lost Boys?

They were killing the Lost Boys. In a way they had been her family. She had been with them for a couple weeks, ever since she had run away to Santa Carla. But she had never seen them as vampires. For some reason they had hidden it from her. She realized she had never known their true selves, only their human remains.

“A couple of weeks” generally means a time period that is more than one week but too short to be measured in months. For that reason many people considered it to mean 14 days; two weeks.

A lot happens in such a short amount of time, especially in the film, but in the novelization it has better pacing.

What happens after Grandpa Emerson saves them from Max?

He reveals that he always knew about the vampires living in Santa Carla and in the novelization, in particularly, the epilogue he's the one who's been narrating it...

After that things pretty much returned to normal. We fixed up the house, Lucy got a new job, Michael went back to school. Star did, too, after she found a place to stay at the Widow Johnson’s. Laddie remembered where his parents lived. And Sam decided he wanted to learn to stuff animals.

What's special about the Lost Boys’ cave?

Grandpa Emerson continues the epilogue and hints...

That place where all the Lost Boys slept is only the beginnings of the cave. Those tunnels seem to go on forever, maybe even all the way back into Santa Carla. And the noises that come out of there? My daughter insists it’s just gotta be the wind. Sam says it’s probably some sort of animal. But nobody knows for sure. So you’ll excuse us if we only visit the hotel during the daylight. And we haven’t quite gotten the gumption to go back there and check those noises out.

Fun Fact: The filming location for the entrance of the Lost Boys' lair, is the Hudson's Bluff Sea Cave at Rancho Palos Verdes in Los Angeles County, California. It's at the foot of a rock 'spur' jutting into the sea by Terranea Beach. The rest of their lair was built on Stage 12 of the Warner Bros. lot.

Fun Fact 2: The hotel was based on the Valencia Street Hotel in San Francisco.

Fun Fact 3: In early drafts of The Lost Boys scripts, there was suppose be an end credit scene. It would've been one of the few 80s movies to do so, but it didn't happen.

The film's final ending was so punchy that filming the tag was never a priority, according to the film's production designer Bo Welch. Once Warner Bros. cut the film's budget by 35% before shooting, the tag was the first to go. "It never got beyond the discussion stage," Welch said.

In the book, The Lost Boys: Lost In The Shadows by Paul Davis you find out what it is they had in mind.

The camera would've panned back to the Lost Boys' lair, focusing on an old weathered mural on the hotel wall, which would show a smiling Max in the early 1900s boardwalk, talking to a group of young men.

You don't see their faces as it was left to the viewers' imagination. It could've been David and his gang or another set of Lost Boys before them. But it's clear that Max and his Lost Boys (not just the current ones) have been terrorizing Santa Carla for that long.

Fun Fact 4: There were plans to make a sequel named The Lost Girls just two years after with David returning as the main villain. This is why David's body doesn't turn to dust like the others. He didn't die, even after being impaled on a pair of antlers. It can be assumed it missed his heart or it needed to be made of wood to be proper "stakes".

Scripts for the film circulated in the early '90s, but the film was never made. However, the plot point would eventually turn up in the comic book Lost Boys: The Reign of Frogs.

[ddagent]

"What We Deserve"

Margo/Sergei | Canon Divergence | FR12 | 742 words     Margo Madison asks for Flight Director. She asks for something for Sergei too. Remix of the end of 1.06; part of the "Handsome Young Suitor" verse. Happy reading! If you have any other suggestions for scene remixes in this verse, I am open for prompts!

"Is there anything else, Ms Madison, that you would like to extort from the United States government?"

A muscle in Margo's jaw twitched. Extort. As if he wasn’t manipulating the system, covering up key evidence for political clout. Extort. As if he hadn’t manipulated her, sending her off to Von Braun like she was nothing more than some chess piece, a pawn to be moved at the whim of men. Well, fuck that. Margo Madison looked Harold Weisner straight in the eye and asked for what she wanted: "Sergei Nikulov. You've started asking other engineers to double check his work. That stops now."

Continue Reading at AO3 or Read Below

When the Kennedy administration had taken over, neither she nor Sergei had noticed any real difference at NASA. Weisner was useless but at least he knew her name. But in the past few months, as the administration had settled into their way of doing things, procedures and policies had changed. Margo had been passed over for Flight director. Sergei's work, considered flawless by the previous administration, was now micro-managed by engineers with half his experience and a tenth of his talent. This had led to an evaporation of their evenings at 11:59, romantic dinners at his apartment, planned trips out of state. Both were under the assumption that if they just worked harder, longer, they would get the recognition they deserved.

But it wasn't true. So, if Margo was going to take what she was owed, she was going to take it for Sergei, too.

Weisner looked unimpressed. "Ms Madison, your...relationship with Mister Nikulov—"

"—I am not sleeping with Sergei Nikulov." True. A half-truth. She had slept over at his apartment a dozen times or more, and he on the very uncomfortable fold-out bed in her office when going home meant less time on the problem at hand. Not that it had done much good. "But Sergei is my friend. And he deserves better."

"Mister Nikulov is a valued engineer, but—"

Margo cut him off with a laugh. "Valued engineer? Sergei Nikulov put the first man on the fucking moon. He beat us. He beat Von Braun." She jabbed a finger at the now-classified report held in Weisner's hand. "If you don't recognise that, some other agency or government will. I'd get with the program now."

Leaning back in her chair, Margo waited for realisation to sink in. Weisner hadn't realised that Teddy Kennedy's dream of putting the first person on Mars was held solely in the hands of Margo Madison and Sergei Nikulov. No one else would put them there. But he did now. After a moment, Weisner issued a single nod and skulked out of the room with his tail between his legs. Margo sat, stewed, the pads of her fingers pressed against the table. She wanted to work; she wanted to play. Anything to process her day. But the club was closed and her eyes were pricking with tears and all that was left was to sleep.

So, Margo rose and headed in the direction of her office. The dinner that she had picked over now churned in her stomach; every footstep leaden against the linoleum flooring. She had spent most of the journey home screaming into the wind. Revelation after revelation; desperate attempt after desperate attempt. At one point during his machinations, Margo wanted to throw Sergei in Von Braun’s face. You were so desperate to keep your work from the Soviets well, guess what? I’m sleeping with one of them. One of the engineers who beat you to the Moon? He keeps talking in his sleep about wanting to marry me. But Margo didn’t, couldn’t do it. I will not have you taint my relationship with him like you’ve done for everything else in my life. My family, my childhood, my career. He is mine, and mine alone.

Hovering outside her office door, Margo was suddenly overwhelmed by the incredible urge to be held.

If there was a God, they were listening to her. Opening the door, Margo found Sergei half-asleep on the fold-out bed, a copy of that novel about a telekinetic teenager she'd picked up at a bookstore resting on his chest. He looked uncomfortable – but he was there for her. Kicking off her shoes, Margo curled up beside him and listened to the sound of his breathing until she felt the blood in her ears still. With his arm tightening around her middle, only then did she fall asleep.

[gilbirda]

I'll cover you in Moonlight

Galas were usually hell on earth, at least for Jason, but this time there was something different. There was a giant goddess mingling with the crowd, and he needed to know her name. And then the party was crashed by some weirdos wearing armor.

For DPxDC Week!

Day 7: Security Breach

NOW WITH SOME ART

Based on @stealingyourbones's post

[Read on AO3]

---

She was the most beautiful woman in the ballroom.

Not that he took notice of those things - he was usually so busy between crime fighting and keeping up with whatever bullshit job at WE Bruce was training him to do that he didn’t have time to even think about romance or even a simple hook up.

It had been a miracle he was attending the stupid gala in the first place. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years and eat some Batburgers and binge watch a TV series. This was supposed to be his weekend off.

But she was making it worth it.

“Just talk to her.”

Dick had been watching him watch her for a while, but neither had said anything. Jason had expected a comment or a jab or a joke or maybe calling the others to make fun of him for showing interest in anybody at all. But Dick’s voice was smooth and quiet, as if he didn’t want to break the calm bubble they were in.

“Ok.”

“Do it now.”

“Ok.”

Dick continued to watch him, he felt his eyes looking at his face. Jason took a sip of his champagne flute (why the hell was he drinking that shit, he hated champagne) and continued to watch the giant goddess talking and laughing with a group of people on the other side of the ballroom.

“If you don’t talk to her, how will you get her number?”

“She’s not from high society but has been invited as a guest with that group of people - that’s Arkham’s new director and her assistant, so she must know them. It would be a matter of cross referencing the guest list with Arkham’s staff and-”

“Yeah, yeah. You could also walk up to her and ask her to dance.”

Jason finally looked away from the towering figure of that woman. Dick’s smile was so bright he regretted humoring the conversation.

“I don’t dance.”

“What if she wants to dance?”

He would dance, of course. If that meant having her arms around him, he would dance.

But he didn’t say it. He sipped his champagne and turned back to watch her walk away from the group she had been in and gracefully weave between the other people towards the food table.

“Go! This is your chance.”

Without looking back, he gave his flute to his brother and made his way to where she was browsing through the selection of fancy foods and stupid canapés, her lower lip between her teeth.

“If you want recommendations, I suggest the mushroom stuff. They added a bit of lemon juice and that really makes a difference.”

Why the fuck was he babbling about food?

She seemed to find it funny, though, since she giggled.

“Oh, thanks! I don’t really go to events like these and I wasn’t sure what to try.” She picked up the thing he suggested and took a bite, testing if she liked it. Her eyes lit up as she chewed. “It’s good!” The tall goddess stuffed the rest of the canapé in her mouth and happily chewed. Once she swallowed, she turned to properly look at him, her hand extended. “Thanks! I’m Jasmine, by the way.”

Fitting. She also smelled like flowers.

He took her hand, taking note of her long and pointy black nails. It was unusual to see these if you weren’t in the goth scene.

“Jason,” her grip was firm and strong. Good. “I hope you are not getting bored to death, because I always do at these things.”

She politely smiled before going back to picking more food to eat. She started to pile them in a plate she had on her other hand, one after the other. Was she this hungry? He didn’t blame her, the party had been in full swing for a while and some people even arrived earlier to mingle. That’s why he always wanted to be late, less chances for social interaction.

“These are good too,” she moaned, biting on a fancy cheesy… something. Jason hadn’t tasted those yet. “Wanna try?” She offered when she saw him looking at her.

Jason looked at the canapé she extended to him, one corner bitten and with faint lipstick smudges, and decided to jump for it.

He bit on the offered food, eyes fixed on hers, his lips barely brushing her fingers.

Jasmine blushed, entranced, until she jumped as if she just realized she was staring at his lips.

“Um…”

Did she notice he was hitting on her yet?

“So, what do you usually do for fun at these parties?” She went back to eating her selected assortment of foods. “Dancing?”

“Among other things.” He nodded. “Others prefer to flaunt their riches and brag about business deals.”

Jasmine snorted. “Well, I don’t have either of those, so…”

Maybe it was how she didn’t care if she spoke with her mouth full, or how her lipstick was almost completely rubbed off, but he found it adorable.

“Wanna dance, then?” It was out before he registered his words. He refused to glance at his brother, who was probably watching, and give him the benefit of being right about the dancing thing.

That’s how he ended up dancing with an Amazonian goddess. It wasn’t that bad, the dance was easy and he could really focus on her arms around him and how her touch made his skin burn. She smiled down at him, not bothered by the looks some people were throwing at them.

“For a big guy you really dance well.”

He made her do a twirl, successfully pulling her into his arms and then twirl back away with the rhythm of the music.

“Dancing with those heels cannot be easy either,” he looked down at her feet, where indeed her five inch heels should make dancing difficult. He loved that she wore heels even though she could probably tower over everyone in the room without them.

“I have practice and good balance control,” she said with a smirk. Her smile was so kissable.

“Oh? Is that so?”

Jason took advantage of the last twirl and when he caught her, he dipped her as far as he dared. Her dress had a heart shaped neckline that accentuated her chest as she curved her body with the movement, indeed her balance making it a smooth transition even though she wasn’t expecting it. He couldn’t look away from the exposed skin, his eyes traveling from the soft curve of her bosom-

Okay, maybe he should stop reading Austen before bed.

“My eyes are up here.”

He blushed at being caught, quickly setting her back on her own two heeled feet. At least she didn’t look angry.

“I know I’m tall, and it doesn’t help when my boobs are at people’s eye level.”

“It helps that such a pretty dress highlights your chest area.”

He should really think before he opens his damn mouth. Really. One does not simply speak to a pretty lady about her boobs like that. He was a gentleman, he at least wanted to ask her to dinner before bringing up her boobs.

Jasmine laughed. “I like your honesty. Is refreshing.” The music band was starting another song. “Do you wanna continue dancing?”

He didn’t want to, but if that extended his time with her-

“I could really use a breather, if you don’t mind.”

He nodded. He would follow her anywhere she wanted.

Conversation came easier as they made their way past the groups of people dancing and talking and shaking hands, and Jason gradually felt more relaxed. Jasmine was pretty, tall, strong and very smart, and she liked to talk about anything and everything. He listened as she rambled about some movie she had seen recently, apparently a remake, and that conversation somehow was related to a Disney Princess analysis she did for college, and that she was still pissed off about her professor not giving her full marks for it.

It was around the time she was listing the reasons that said professor shouldn’t be allowed to teach anymore that they finally got outside to the pretty balcony that overlooked a well kept garden. It was bright tonight, the moon almost completely full, and the way its rays hit her was almost magical - maybe he was being a big sap and his judgment was clouded, but her skin glowed under the moonlight.

“Ah~” She sighed, taking in the cold Gotham’s night air. “Feels nice.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s so beautiful here. The garden looks so pretty at night.”

“Yeah. So pretty.” He wasn’t looking at the gardens.

Quiet was fine as well for him. He watched as Jasmine basked under the rays, eyes closed, showing the makeup she had on her eyelids. It was shimmery, highlighting her teal eyes when she had them opened, with a few layers of mascara to show off her long lashes.

It was a shame that she didn’t have more of that pretty burgundy lipstick, it looked good on her.

“My eyes are up here.” She smiled.

He had been caught staring at her lips. He looked up at her teal eyes, mesmerized with how they reflected the moon.

Beautiful.

Jasmine blushed and looked away. “Thank you.”

Oh shit, he said that out loud. “Um…” Time to improvise. “I wanted to… Well, if you want to, but If you want to meet? Outside this place.”

She looked amused. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah? For coffee, maybe?”

Her smile was wide, with many white teeth. She seemed to glow more than before.

“I’d love to!”

They exchanged numbers and continued talking about anything and everything, coming back inside once the cold became too much to be comfortable in. The food table was always at reach, and Jazz seemed to always be munching on tiny food. He didn’t comment on it, but made a note about it.

“And then Danny decided to be a little shit about it, and hid my books-” She stopped mid phrase, glancing up as if her name had been called.

“Everything okay?”

“It’s just… I thought I heard-” She looked at the ceiling, then at the door, then at the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back. “Jay?”

She sounded tense. “Yes?” He glanced around too, just in case.

“Please know I really enjoyed my time with you.”

That was ominous.

“Ok?”

“Also I may have been followed here by people that want me dead.”

“Ok???” He pulled out his phone to text the others, in case there was a threat. He didn’t need to be sneaky since Jazz, as she insisted to be called, was distracted by… taking off her shoes?

Just as he managed to text a “we have a situation” in the batfam group chat, Jazz put her shoes in his hands.

“Hold these for me? They were expensive and I don’t want to lose them.”

He was confused, but nodded.

The lights went out, a cold breeze sneaking into the room. Someone started screaming, and soon panic filled the otherwise peaceful party. His first instinct was to grab Jazz and run for it, but she wasn’t where he last saw her.

The breeze quickly turned into a full on gale, the noise taking away the voices of the screaming guests. His eyes adjusted a little to the change of lighting, the moonlight coming from the windows enough to guess the shapes of people and tables as Jason moved around them towards the nearest exit, ready to rush to the Manor and suit up in record time.

Someone else screamed, but it didn’t sound human - it was a weird pitch, and had static noises overlapped, like it was coming from a broken radio.

“Where is the Princess?”

There was a growl. It didn’t even sound human either.

Lights came back on, just in time to see-

It was a giant wolf, he was completely sure about that, the thing that tackled the floating figure wearing armor. The wolf moved with the speed and agility expected in a creature of its build, its size not at all a burden as it jumped to the next floating glowing person. The other creatures, around fifteen or twenty of them, all wearing armor, withdrew their swords and screamed a battlecry before lunging at the wolf.

He was about to wonder how on earth a wolf sneaked into the party venue, when he noticed that the wolf was wearing clothes - a dress he had been looking at the whole night.

He glanced at the heels still in his hands. It wasn’t difficult to make the connection.

He wanted to freak out, he really wanted to freak out at the knowledge that he had been trying to flirt with some kind of werewolf - not the weirdest thing he had ever seen, mind you - but in that moment he witnessed how one of the floating armored people just… phased through a wall and came back from the ceiling.

Ghosts, was his first thought. Made sense - floating, phasing through walls, glowing and wearing old timey clothes.

But Jasmine wasn’t a ghost, and yet her attacks ripped through the armor pieces like butter, although that may have more to do with her sharp claws.

Jason gulped, entranced by the display. She was efficient and quick on her feet, she was used to this. She was also used to fighting with that form - she used her claws to pin down one of the soldiers and her big maws to chomp down on their heads, ripping apart the bodies like they were nothing.

It was brutal. It was beautiful.

“Jason!”

He turned to find Tim on his left. He looked nervously at the fight, one hand grasping his arm to drag him away.

“We have to go. Bruce is on his way to the cave.”

This made him snap out of it. Whatever was happening here, Batman shouldn’t be involved.

“No. No, wait.”

“We have to move!” Tim tried to pull him harder, but Jason planted his feet firmly on the floor. He looked around, finding that the room had been completely evacuated with him being the only ‘civilian’ left.

“I know what’s going on.”

This made his brother stop. “You do?”

He licked his lips, unsure of what he should say. Jazz didn’t explain anything, just that these people wanted her dead and had followed her there; but they called her ‘Princess’, so something else must be going on.

“Yes. I know who the wolf is.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, glancing at the heels still in his hands. Tim didn’t see him with Jasmine, he was sure, but he could see the gears spinning behind his eyes.

“Fine, but you have to deal with B later.”

“Deal.”

With that, he was left behind with the fight still going on. Jasmine noticed him standing there, watching, and rushed to his side with a few powerful leaps, picking him up with one arm and pressing him against her body in time to leap away from a green blast.

“Why are you still here?” Her voice was distorted, deeper, a rumble coming from deep inside her chest. He could feel the vibrations through their clothes.

“Why do they want to kill you?”

“No time to explain!” She jumped again, the sensation not unlike being launched upwards with the grapple. “You have to go!”

“I can help. Throw me.”

“What!?” A growl weaved with her voice. It was the wrong moment, they were dodging the attacks from the soldier ghosts; but he couldn’t help but feel the shiver at the sound of her voice, at the sight of her sharp canines so close to his face.

“There are a lot of them and only one of you. I can help.”

“Do you think you can punch a ghost?” She confirmed they were, indeed, ghosts.

“I’ve punched worse things.”

Jazz jumped behind a turned over table and held him in front of her for a moment. He felt his face warm at the sheer size of her claws (paws?) under his arms, the sharp points barely digging on his suit jacket. He now had a chance to properly see her face, the long snout full of dangerous teeth, the same teal eyes he had gazed upon under the moonlight, the ears twitching and moving, hearing sounds that were outside the human range.

He wanted to touch her, check that the fur in the same shade of orange-red as her hair was as soft as it looked like.

“Let me help you.” He extended a hand, placing it on the side of her face. It was very soft.

Jazz leaned into the touch, a loud purr blooming in her chest.

“Alright. Are you ready?”

“Throw me in, chief.”

She found it funny. Her laugh was beautiful even in this form.

Jazz jumped from their cover, her grip secure around him as she got ready to launch him at the closest ghost. Jason had one last chance to enjoy her closeness before he was thrown like a ball at high speed at the unsuspecting soldier.

They clearly didn’t expect him coming, and he used that to his advantage, especially when his fists successfully made contact with their bodies.

It became a dance, not unlike the one they had a while ago - Jazz would literally rip their armors off, rip some limbs as well if she could, and kick them in his general direction before jumping to the next one.

Could ghosts be killed? He wondered, seeing them recover from torn heads and limbs like nothing. In any case, he didn’t hold back, deciding to roll with it and improvise like he always did. It was an easier job after he stole a sword and started stabbing and cutting until they didn’t bounce back as easily as at the beginning.

Soon, one of them, probably the leader, did the smart thing and called for retreat. They left as quickly as they came, leaving him and Jazz alone in the thrashed and empty ballroom. At least he got to keep the cool ghost sword.

“We should go.”

Jazz nodded. “Batman will be here any minute.”

There was something in the way she said his name that it made him turn to look at her. She was still in wolf form, her dress ripped and stained with green blood from her attackers.

“I assume you don’t want to stay and chat?” She shook her head. “Take me with you.”

She was so expressive even in this form. “Why?”

Why, indeed. He tried to think of an excuse, a valid reason why he had to accompany her wherever she was going, but in the end the answer was way simpler.

“I want to be with you.”

She didn’t blush, he wasn’t sure she could while in this form, but she awkwardly looked away. “Ok,” her voice was small. Cute. “I have to explain anyway.”

She had to explain, but he also had to explain a few things, especially if he was supposed to do a report on what happened and why he knew her. Bruce wouldn’t let it go, he was positive.

This was going to get so messy come morning, but for now, he wanted to go back to enjoying the moonlight with this woman.

The wolf woman chuckled from deep inside her chest and opened her arms. “Hop in, hot stuff.”

He rushed it, eager to get back close to her, grabbing her heels from where he threw them before the fight and securing his grip on the sword before letting her pick him up like he weighed nothing.

It wasn’t until they were soaring over the gardens, thanks to a powerful leap from the balcony, that he didn’t see the others completely suited up arriving at the venue. They saw him as well, eyes big and mouths open at the sight of the giant wolf in a cocktail dress carrying him away into the night.

He waved at them with the sword, just to be a little shit.

---

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[lovecolibri]

The thing about the Big Q Word is that I get ~not giving future plot lines away~ and all that but I do think that when the powers behind a show or movie series become aware of a significant following for a ship that is either not-straight or interracial (or both), if they already know they’re not going to go there they have a moral responsibility to say that. In plain terms. If they’re worried about losing audience, well they can’t have it both ways. If it’s a big enough chunk to worry about, perhaps they should reconsider their plan. And if it’s not, just nip it in the bud and let people down easy. People can get very emotionally invested in media. In fact, that’s often what they want from us. And certain ships just are more sensitive than others! If, early on, the showrunners are made aware of a growing audience for X ship, and they just say “oh now that you point it out I can see what you’re seeing, but it wasn’t our intention and we won’t be pursuing it.” That would A: validate that part of the audience and not accuse them of making things up, and B: allow people to make an informed choice. I think probably most would keep watching. If they like the product and are treated with a bit of respect why not? Sure, there will always be an element who will keep believing in canon no matter how plainly you say it’s not happening (…look at what we’re seeing in the face of all evidence now. Though letting go of years of heavy shipping is harder than letting go of one season or so). But I think that could be reduced by early intervention of “hey, cool ship but just so you know it will be remaining in drydock.”

This is well said! I think part of the issue is, terminology takes awhile to catch up and that is a word that people have right now so they use it even though things don't always meet the textbook definition, because they don’t really HAVE another word to use for what a show is doing. 911 may steer clear of using Buddie in their promo material or teasing it on their social media (though they DO tend to drop scenes or pics of one or both of the guys whenever something comes out that had people talking negatively especially this season soooo), which worked to keep away the accusations on technicality, but they still used Buddie within the show itself to generate the buzz online and keep the show talked about while turning around and telling everyone fans were seeing things and that's fine but it's not what they intended to come across. 5 seasons in it's unintentional and they had no idea people would see it that way?! I call bullshit.

It's disingenuous to say people are seeing things when you’re making very specific and repeated parallels to other canon couples, and talking about how costumes ARE important and something that gets discussed, and the directors ARE watching to make sure certain facial expressions are in focus. OR how about something like telling people to pay attention to the couch, and that the couch is important, then putting Buck and Chris on the couch in shot-for-shot parallels, after Buck can’t sleep on the couch his mom gave him, and turning around and saying “oh no not THOSE couch scenes, that was "unintentional", you didn't need to pay attention to them, they never meant anything and we never said they did and you really just did this to yourself."

Like, YES they are not using Budding THEMSELVES as a marketing tool because they don't want people to call them out and right now they can say "but, but, WE didn't do it!", but it's almost more insidious how they put stuff in they absolutely cannot be unaware of how it will come across this many years in, and let the online fandom do the marketing FOR them and create all the buzz and keep their show popular, only to, when someone pushes them about it, throw those same fans under the bus with an "oh well everyone can see what they want! We certainly didn't intend that they would see THIS *insert incredibly romantically coded thing here* as anything but we won't tell them they're wrong."

@suavecitoeddie mentioned a great term today, "ship bait" which I think fits because it's not JUST about representation, as in the case of 911 there are other mlm/wlw relationships depicted AND lovingly crafted in the show. But that doesn't mean that the show ISN'T pulling some shady shit with Buddie. Hen and Karen were already established at the start but Bathena and Madney were established in season 2 and Michael met David in season 3. Aside from Athena, Michael and Chim in season 1, none of them have dated anyone else (we have seen past relationships but not active dating) and the show has given wonderful stories of growth for these couples and having each other's backs across several seasons. And Buck and Eddie have the same kind of story the only difference is, it gets told around the show throwing woman after woman after woman at them. We KNOW this show can tell well-crafted love stories, we SEE the parallels they CHOOSE to make with Buddie and the other couples. And while the GA may not be analyzing everything, it's also not fair to offhandedly label ALL of them as blind or dumb enough to NOT pick up on some of that stuff as well. We all saw the comments after Buck fell asleep on the couch, or after the cemetery scene of people saying "I thought you all were making stuff up but I'm rethinking everything now!" We have all seen the comments of people starting the show thinking fandom was blowing Buddie out of proportion (I certainly thought so and that was around season 3) only to watch and go "how did Tumbler of all places actually UNDERSELL how much these two are in love?"

We know TPTB are keeping an eye on social media because they know enough to avoid the common "traps" of baiting so people can't accuse them of it. Which means they can't say they don't know how things are going to come across. Yes, Ryan may have shocked everyone with that performance in 6x10, but he's running up the ladder in a wide shot when we hear him screaming for Buck. We don't see his face, they easily could have cut some of his reactions or the audio there or cut the scene differently and still had it be a very moving and emotional scene that showed Eddie going after his friend. We still would have seen it through a Buddie lens, but for KR to come out and act like she had no say in how that final product we saw came out, regardless of what Ryan did on the day? I don't buy it. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

And YES at this point they're in a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation no matter what they say but part of that is because they have kept up the "it's open for any interpretation" thing so long while making these blatant parallels, AND, the big thing for me personally, while making Buck and Eddie at every turn be the exact puzzle piece the other is missing! Not every fandom ship is something that makes sense for canon or is even something the shippers WANT for canon, it's just fun and that's okay! But 911 specifically has build Buck and Eddie as the perfect partners in every sense of the word for each other. On top of that, they have also given them just....some of the WORST people for them where we can SEE, blatantly, how incompatible they are, and then shown Buck or Eddie perfectly doing what the gf did not. You just...you cannot tell me it's not intentional, I won't believe you.

Also, on top of everything else it's just....SO cowardly to be so concerned with appealing to everyone all at once that you refuse to pick a side and commit to a story JUST so everyone can "see it how they want", until, when push comes to shove and the show is ending, suddenly you HAVE picked a side and then suddenly all those fans are just angry for no reason because of something some other show did to them because you were NEVER doing anything to lead them on. You checked the textbook definition and followed it to a T, so no one can be upset. 🙄🙄🙄

ANYWAY. It's okay to feel "ship baited" because it's pretty clear the show was trying to have things both ways until the show was supposed to end, and only at that point did they show their hand. It's also okay to call them out on it and to let ABC know what we want. Will it do anything? Maybe not! Who knows! But they won't be able to say they didn't see or hear the backlash, and the show is made for the fans! Yes a lot of people may casually watch, but ad revenue tied to demo isn't as important as it used to be, and online fandom is what keeps shows alive. So make noise! If nothing else, you'll probably feel a little better! (And ABC was already going to be facing an uphill battle to keep viewers with an already lackluster season with dropping viewers, a network switch after so many seasons, and now the strike pushing things back. I honestly don't think they can afford to entirely discredit the current buzz around the finale. Which is NOT just tied to Buddie as a ship but the character's individual journeys, and the disjointed writing for everyone and the pacing issues especially with the big emergency. We may not get everything or at least not all at once, but the more they know about what fans want, the more likely we are to see some changes to get us closer to those early season vibes.)

[sam-is-my-safe-word]

Demon Dreams

Demon!Dean Winchester x Jensen Ackles

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Non- AU, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Season/Series 10, Character Bleed, Jensen Is Not Okay, Jared is Jared, Jared Is Worried About Jensen, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Is An Asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Identity Crisis, Possession, Sort of? - Freeform, Wet Dreams, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Strangulation, Exorcisms, Sexorcism If You Will,

Word Count: 3,201

Summary: Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. But it's not meant to take over your life like this, right?

Notes:

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "you fed my demons" "you created mine" square.

Okay, this is the most fictional thing I've ever written lol. This is an utterly fictional Jensen set in an AU with no wives or children. I am not implying for one single second that anything in this fic actually occured. Nor am I implying Jensen is gay or bisexual. Please don't sue me lol. Also, first time writing RPF/RPS. Still feel some kinda way about it. Be gentle with me (even though I am not gentle with you, my dear readers)

Endless thanks to my beta @runawaydr3amerao3 for all her help in making this so much better than I could have & for her comma wrangling <3 Endless thanks also to @talltalesandbedtimestories for getting me involved in this whole bingo thing & cheering me on <3

Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. It’s happened before. Some characters are just too heavy. 

It’s happened with Dean a few times. Hard scenes that invade his dreams for days afterwards. Character arcs that refuse to leave when he sheds Dean to put Jensen back on and leave him snapping at everyone. 

This is different, though. This is like the character has taken on a life of its own in his head. 

Jensen is no stranger to sex dreams either. He’s a healthy guy in his mid-thirties with no long-term partner and a job that takes up almost all his life. 

Jerking off at 3am because he woke up hard from a dream of some faceless someone riding him like a mechanical bull, and his alarm is going to go off in just over an hour and he’d really like to sleep a little more and sleep won’t happen until he deals with his cock, is just another part of life. 

This is different as well. This isn’t a faceless stranger. He knows the person haunting his dreams. 

Intimately. 

Jensen has dreamed about Dean lots of times. He’s an old friend. 

This is not his Dean. 

~~~

Demon Dean was a challenge. He started out fun to play, a nice mix-up. A chance for extended scenes with Mark, to let out Dean’s inner asshole. A sex scene - awkward - and a fight scene - awesome. The black contacts weren’t fun but overall it was a good time. 

Up until filming the third episode, when he had to act against Jared again, and suddenly Demon Dean wasn’t fun anymore. Then it was hard. Then it was fighting against every acting instinct that came with ten years of Dean, ten years with Jared. 

Not Dean, Sam’s brother anymore; Demon Dean, Sam’s enemy. It was a hard headspace to get into. Chasing Jared around the bunker with a hammer was brutal. He couldn’t even truly lose himself in the character because he still had to direct everyone else. 

Then it was over. Just three episodes and he was free to lose the murder shirt and style his hair properly again. 

And he’s proud of his work. Especially ‘Soul Survivor’. It’s always a challenge to balance actor and director, but he’s thrilled with how it turned out. He made Demon Dean a true threat to Sam, and as long as he doesn’t examine that too closely, it’s okay. 

But it’s been a couple of weeks since they finished ‘Soul Survivor’, and Jensen is still waking up sweating after dreams about black eyes and the words ‘do it’ ringing in his ears. 

~~~

Look, Jensen is a perfectly sane guy. He has a great handle on his mental health, knows the signs of when he needs to reach out. Hell, after ten years of helping Jared, Jensen would say he probably knows more about mental health than most people who don’t actually suffer with mental health problems. 

So while he knows that his dreams of weapons, black eyes and the thrill of the chase are just character bleed, he also knows that he needs to be aware in case they develop into something serious. 

But nothing he knows tells him what to do when he starts to look forward to his dark dreams. 

Jared might be able to help, though. 

So a few days later, when he wakes up hard and aching after dreaming about Demon Dean fucking his throat raw - all while holding a knife to it - after he’s taken care of the problem, he texts Jared - once he’s washed his hands, of course. 

It’s still early, but Jared gets up hours before he needs to, to work out and walk his dogs and generally become a person. A far cry from Jensen, who falls out of bed after four snoozes of his alarm and downs coffee until his eyes open. 

Jensen: You up?

Jared: Yeah, lol. Why are YOU up?

Jensen: Can’t sleep. Can I ask you something? 

There’s a pause and Jensen thinks maybe Jared’s sitting down or something. No one asks to talk at 3:30am. He isn’t expecting the phone to ring in his hand. 

“‘Lo.” 

“You okay? Not like you to be up at this time, never mind asking if you can ask me something.” 

This is exactly what Jensen didn’t want. Now he has to try and explain himself with words instead of text. 

“I’m okay. Just… Do you even dream about Sam?” 

Jared lets out a small laugh; Jensen can hear the relief. 

“All the time, man. All the fucking time. You don’t dream about Dean?” 

“Yeah, I do. I mean… like, weird dreams about Sam?” 

Jared hums. 

“I had a recurring dream that he kept showing up to my high school graduation and glaring at me. Like I was an asshole for finishing school, y’know.” 

Jared chuckles.

“Or when I’ve gone a little too hard on the candy and there’s Sam, staring at me from across a table with a pile of salad in front of him. Like, okay, dude. You’re a health nut, I’m not. That kind of weird?”

God help Jensen, Jared is going to make him spell it out. 

“Not exactly…” 

Jared must hear something in his voice because he starts to laugh, far too loudly for the time of day. 

“Ohhhh… that kind of weird. Jackles, you pervert, you.” 

This was a terrible idea, why did he even message Jared? He’ll never live this down now.

“No, not like- I mean, that kind of weird but not… Stop fucking laughing, Jared.” 

Jared has gone from laughing to belly laughing; Jensen can hear him fighting for breath. 

“I’m sorry...”

“You’re not.” 

“No, I’m not. This is too funny. Hollywood hot-shot Jensen Ackles all in knots at 3am because he had a wet dream-” 

“I fucking DID NOT!” 

He did, though, night after night. 

“Why are you blushing then?” 

“I’m no-” 

Damnit, he is. He can feel his cheeks heating up. 

“It wasn’t a wet fucking dream, Jared. I’m not thirteen, for chrissakes. It was just a weird dream and it kinda freaked me out.” 

“A weird sex dream, you mean.” 

“Yes.” 

Jared is still laughing but it’s starting to die down now. 

“Okay, calm down. Yes, I dream about Sam. Yes, sometimes they’re weird. Yes, sometimes they’re sex-dreams-weird. Hell, I dream about fucking Sam more than I dream about fucking anyone else.” 

Jared sounds perfectly at peace with this revelation, and if it was regular Dean that Jensen was dreaming about, he might get it. 

“I mean, it’s either dream about fucking Sam or dream about fucking you . I’ll take Sam any day.” 

Jared starts fake gagging and Jensen is over this entire conversation. 

“Okay, good talk. Thanks, Jared. I’ll see you in a little while. Let’s just forget this ever happened.” 

“Wait. You know I’m only messin’ with you. You can talk-” 

*Click*

Well, that was a waste of time. Jared sounded sincere at the end, but Jensen is too embarrassed to even try to talk now. Hopefully by the time he has to face Jared in the car, Jared will have found something else to talk about. 

~~~

Jared was smart enough not to bring up the early morning phone call, and after a brief hug and a nod, they were all good. 

Demon Dean, though? He’s dining out on the call, milking Jensen’s embarrassment for all it’s worth. 

It’s a special kind of humiliation when someone is three fingers deep in your ass and you’re moaning like a whore, and they bring up an awkward 3am call you had with your best friend a few days ago. 

“So you think this is weird, huh?” 

Jensen never doubted Dean’s swagger was well earned, but Demon Dean turns it up to eleven. Jensen hasn’t come this hard since he was a teen, and it’s part of the reason he looks forward to these damn dreams, even though they freak him the fuck out. 

“‘Cause you sure seem to like it.” 

Demon Dean twists his fingers and Jensen howls.  

“You like being here, at my mercy. You like when it hurts, when you’re scared. When I take it.” 

Jensen’s hips buck. God, he’s so close. 

“This is where you should be. That pretty face needs to be sucking cock or face down in the sheets.” 

Jensen isn’t eighteen anymore, he’s not new to the scene and insecure about himself. He knows he’s a good actor, a good director, a fucking professional. But something about Demon Dean cuts through all that and suddenly he’s a kid again, doubting everything. It makes him even harder. The pitch black eyes and the waves of menace rolling off Demon Dean make Jensen legitimately scared of him, even though he knows it’s just a dream. 

“Does it feel weird , Jensen?” 

Jensen can only moan in response. It’s so fucking good. 

“Answer me!” 

There’s the cold and heavy weight of a hammer pressing into his Adam's apple, and when Jensen opens his eyes, Demon Dean’s own ice black is all he can see. 

“N…no.” 

He’s rewarded for his answer by a hard thrust in and upwards. He’s right there, he can taste it. 

“N…no.” 

Demon Dean mocks him. 

“No, it doesn’t look like it, either. Looks like you’re having a blast. Cunt so tight around my fingers. Looks like you’re right where you should be.”

Jensen can’t breathe. 

“Say it. Say you feel right here, cunt stuffed full of me.” 

“I…”

“Say it, Jensen. Or I’ll stop.” 

“Fuck. Fuck… I feel right.” 

“That’s it. This is what you’re good for, isn't it? Just a pretty boy to get fucked.” 

“Ju-just a pretty boy to get fucked. Fucking… please!” 

Demon Dean smiles coldly. 

Jensen wakes with a groan, hips still thrusting into the mattress as he soaks the sheets.

More laundry. He should buy more sheet sets. 

~~~

Jared pulls Jensen aside a couple of weeks after the call. They’re out with some cast and crew from that week's episode, just relaxing, having some drinks and blowing off steam after a difficult shoot. 

Jensen really doesn’t want to be there, doesn’t want to be anywhere, really. But he couldn’t refuse, not without prompting more questions. So he paints on a smile, sticks to beer and tries to let the conversations happen around him without getting involved. 

Jared must notice his discomfort and grabs him on a trip to the bathroom. 

“You alright, dude?” 

Jensen sighs internally. He doesn’t want to do this. 

“I’m fine, just tired, y’know.” 

Jared cocks his head a little; looks at Jensen too closely. 

“You wanna get out of here? I’ll split an Uber with you?” 

God yes. But then it will be questions on Monday and he can’t with that. 

“No, I’m good. Besides, you’re having a good time. You don’t gotta leave on account of my old ass.” 

Another head tilt, Jared really can be a puppy at times. Normally, Jensen adores this caring side of his friend. But he’d give anything to have that focus aimed away from him right now. 

“Jen…” 

“I’m fine! Okay. I’m fucking tired, it’s been a long week. Let’s just… get another drink or something. Okay?” 

Jensen didn’t mean for Dean to come out of his mouth then. It happens, but not usually in temper like that. Jared holds his hands up in surrender and lets Jensen walk past him, back to their group. 

~~~

He’s on his knees, Demon Dean’s cock buried in his throat. It hurts, he can’t breathe, but it feels so good. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Choke on it. Gonna get that throat all fucked out.” 

Jensen moans and digs his fingers into Demon Dean’s hips. 

“Gotta help you find Dean’s voice somehow. Know you’ve been having trouble with that.” 

Demon Dean runs a hand through his hair as he says it and Jensen forgets to be offended.

“That’s it. That’s it. Pretty mouth on my cock. Just like it should be.”

~~~

Something isn’t right with Jensen. Everyone can see it. He’s just not present anymore. Not totally at least. He gives it his best on set, but he just can’t seem to find the right headspace anymore. Scenes that he would knock out in two takes, max., are taking six/seven/eight now. 

Jared is beside himself with worry. 

“Jensen, please. If you won’t talk to me, talk to someone, anyone. Please!”

“I’m fine, Jay.” 

Weary smile. Tired eyes. 

“Jensen. Is this about those dreams you were having?” 

“No! Of course not. Anyway, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Jen…” 

“Night, Jared.” 

~~~

“I should just keep you here, Jensen. In your mind with me, all the time. Think how good it would be, nothing to worry about. Just pleasing me.” 

“Please…” 

“So fuckin’ pretty. Made to be laid out on silk sheets and just fucked . Over and over and over. This is where you should be.” 

“Fuck…” 

“Too much pressure out there. Acting, directing, managing your life. Wouldn’t you rather stay here, just us?” 

“Yes. Fuck yes. With you.” 

~~~

It comes to a head during the filming of ‘The Executioner’s Song’. An absolutely pivotal moment for Dean, and Jensen just cannot get his head in the game. Everyone is frustrated, including Jensen. 

But as always, it’s Jared that breaks the spell in the end. 

“C’mon, dude. Get it together. I’m sick of redoing this scene.” 

It’s said with humour, but Jensen can hear the tension and frustration underneath. 

The words spill out of him, without thought.

“I think I’m gonna quit…” 

Jared just looks at him, slack-jawed. There’s silence for a minute. Thankfully they’re in a quiet corner of the set while the crew resets the equipment… again. 

“What?” 

It’s said so softly, Jensen almost doesn’t hear it. 

“I think… I’m not cut out for this. I should quit. This isn’t what I should be doing.”

Jensen says it calmly, as if he’s pondering what to have for lunch. But when he looks at Jared again, he’s floored by what he sees.

Jared is crying. His eyes are full of tears, one is tracing its way down his cheek. He’s clenching his jaw, but Jensen can see the wobble. Jensen is reminded of filming ‘All Hell Breaks Loose Part II’, wiping away the stray tear that fell as Dean mourned Sam. 

It’s like the fog lifts from Jensen’s eyes. He realises what he just said. 

“Jared…” 

He reaches out to touch his friend, but Jared turns and walks away without a word. 

Jensen just watches, unable to move, as Jared goes to the crew and tells them he needs to go home. The director tries to beg Jared to stay, saying they’re already so behind schedule - a glance in Jensen’s direction at that. Jared is unmoved, though. Jensen hears him say that even if ‘he’ - meaning Jensen again, of course - can get it together, they won’t get anything usable from him today, and he’ll be back on set bright and early tomorrow to get it done. 

Shame, hot and sick, fills Jensen. What has he done… 

Jared has already left by the time Jensen gets his things together. The car that usually drives them both to and from set is waiting for him, though. Jared had said he was going to make his own way home. No one wanted to argue. 

The ride home for Jensen is smothered in thick silence. Not even a goodbye is exchanged with the driver when they pull up outside Jensen’s apartment building. 

What has he done…

What has he let himself become? 

He spends the evening drinking bourbon from the bottle and stopping himself from calling Jared. Even with the early finish, it’s still late - by normal standards - and he’s tired from the day. The bourbon speeds the process along and it’s not long before his head is hitting the pillow. 

Jensen is well into the dream before he realises this is one. It’s almost like lucid dreaming, these nightly visits with Demon Dean. But he’s never tried to control them, just takes what Demon Dean gives to him. 

Tonight, though, tonight he sees through the veil. So to speak. 

Demon Dean is above him, watching him with those blank, black eyes and that cold smile, distorted by the grimace of effort he’s putting into fucking Jensen as hard as he can. He’s got two fingers buried in Jensen’s mouth at the same time and he’s spouting the usual shit, but this time, Jensen knows it’s shit. 

“God, wish I could fuck your mouth and cunt at the same time. Both so fucking tight and pretty.” 

He thrusts deeply and Jensen groans around the fingers before spitting them out in disgust. Demon Dean doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Fuckin’ perfect here, right where you’re meant to be, getting this tight hole fucked sloppy. Just what you’re good for.” 

Jensen snaps, or breaks free. He’s not sure. 

With a roar of anger, he bucks his hips upwards, uses the momentum to shove Demon Dean over onto his back. Jensen goes with him, ends up straddling his waist, feeling Demon Dean’s hard cock resting against his ass, no longer inside him. 

With the demon beneath him, Jensen raises a fist to punch him, break his nose, his cheekbone, his jaw, anything. But those depthless black eyes and that cold fucking smirk stop him. Demon Dean would welcome the violence. Jensen is not a violent man, not unless he has to be. 

He has to be here. Has to take back control in the only way Demon Dean understands. 

He wraps his hand around the throat beneath him, squeezes just a little. Just to test. 

“You fed my demons long enough. No more.” 

The laugh that comes from below him is a little strained, a little wheezy. Jensen brings his other hand up, wraps them both around Demon Dean's neck, thumbs crossing over the Adam's apple. 

“Fed your demons? Jensen, you created mine.” 

Jensen squeezes. Hard. Tight. His arms shake with the effort. The face beneath him goes red, then purple. But the body never fights to break free. The hips under him squirm and thrust. 

Tighter. 

Harder. 

Jensen is sure something is going to pop, unsure if it will be him. 

Right as his arms are about to go limp, unable to hold the tension anymore, he feels the cock behind him twitch, kick and then shoot hot over his ass. When he looks into the face under him, the eyes appear to roll back. 

But instead they just morph to green, the same green eyes he’s seen in the mirror every day of his life. 

His hands fall from his own throat and the body under him takes a deep breath. 

Not Demon Dean anymore, only Jensen. 

Jensen wakes with a shout, his hips churning into the sheets and mattress below him, cock still spurting cum into his boxers. 

He’s soaked in sweat and when he realises what woke him - strangling Demon Dean and watching him morph back into Jensen - he feels new cold sweat break out all over him. 

Is it over? Is he free from Demon Dean’s spell? 

He needs to call Jared… 

But first, where did he put those new sheets?

[tommygrace]

What I find interesting about these two villains, Tatiana and Diana, is how they knew what their wives meant to Tommy.

Tatiana, met Grace, and knew that there was no chance to conquer Tommy, she realized that Grace was an intelligent woman, difficult to be able to take down, especially Tommy and Grace, as a team. Only after she dies does she take advantage of the situation to "win" him, even realizing the power Grace has over Tommy, even after her death, that she uses it to get to him. Naming her, her perfume, that sex scene where she lets him see her. Grace, dead or alive, is very powerful, and she's the only one who's gotten to Tommy and the only one he's ever let in.

Diana. When he meets Lizzie, he realizes that her forte is not intelligence, that it is very easy to separate them and that it has no influence on Tommy. And Lizzie, by telling her that she knows nothing about the business, but that she slept with Mosley, she just implied that all she knows how to do is have sex. And lying about the honeymoon and that she knows about the company's business because she's the director, but then she can't keep up that lie. To Diana, Lizzie is a joke, something to entertain herself by humiliating her and so easy. That scene, in which he makes fun of Lizzie, saying that she is a woman of the world, for lying that they went to Paris, everyone there knew it was a lie.

You can see the two extremes, Mosley and Diana, a powerful couple, they want the same thing, they complement each other, and they have a connection, through evil of course, but difficult to be able to knock down. Powerful enemies for Tommy, but I know if he had been with Grace, they would be much more powerful and could have taken them down very easily.

But he's with Lizzie, and that couple is the opposite of powerful, they're not connected, they don't even keep up the same lie, they don't follow each other's game. She doesn't want to be there, and he didn't want to take her in the first place, but Ada told him she wasn't going to help him anymore, so he had no choice but to take Lizzie. Diana realizes everything, and the kind of relationship they had, and she didn't have to work very hard to get what she wanted, to sleep with Tommy and, in the process, humiliate Lizzie.

And the two scenes, in S3 and S6, the two women, Grace and Lizzie, are the opposite, and being so, the two relationships are the opposite as well.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 17: Afternoon Delight

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Words: 749

Warnings: more sweet than smutty, implied sex, discussions of filming sex scenes for movies, just pedro being v reassuring and lovey dovey.

A/N: highkey inspired by a scene in a book i read recently (the seven husbands of evelyn hugo) lmao

It had been a quiet weekend, one of the rare occasions neither you nor Pedro had anything scheduled. You’d allowed yourselves to sleep in, had a nice brunch with your coffees, and then settled in for a relaxing day of doing very little. By the mid-afternoon Pedro way sitting on one end of the couch reading and you were laying across the rest, your head in his lap, your attention on your phone. Every so often you let out a soft hum as Pedro absentmindedly played with your hair, and sometimes one of you would interrupt the quiet to share something funny you’d seen or just comment on how nice it was to do nothing. After some time in the peaceful bliss, Pedro’s page turning happened less frequently. You didn’t click to it right away but it became increasingly clear that something other than the plot of the novel had his attention. Finally, he cracked.   “Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” You dragged your attention from your phone, “What is it?” “It’s about work next week.” “Mmm, what about it?” you asked, pushing yourself to sit up and face him better, a suspicion of what he was trying to get at already in your head.   “Well, next week we’ll be filming the sex scene.” “Right, I remember you mentioning that you’d be doing that soon.” “I thought I should warn you that it’s coming up, I think it’s going to be quite an...intense scene.” Your forehead creased as you pondered what that meant, “How so? What do you mean intense?” “Well, like I said before it’s got some actual nudity in it. Not full frontal but definitely my ass and I think her uhhh chest...maybe other parts too.” he blushed a little as he skirted around the words, “It’s not going to be a fade to black type scene, we aren’t shying away from showing the sex.” You’d let out a giggle as he’d cutely stumbled over his phrasing but fell quiet again with the rest, “Okay....do you feel like it’s overly gratuitous?” "No. I don’t think so. Our director explained his vision and the three of us talked through the scene. We came to the conclusion that it’s important for the characters. Seeing their desire for each other and seeing that each of them receives pleasure from the other will help the audience understand decisions they make later on. It’s not like it’ll be pornographic anyway, but it might not be that taseful either.” “Okay.” “Okay?” You shrugged, “Well, what do you want me to say? I mean I can’t say I’m thrilled at the idea of seeing you fuck someone else or even pretend to. But I know it’s your job and it sounds like it’s in there for a reason and that you were included in decisions about it, so if you feel comfortable doing the scenes then... okay.” “I’d still like to know if you have any misgivings,” he grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze, “I’m not the only one this scene could effect.” You squeezed his hand back in a silent acknowledgement of his thoughtfulness, “I don’t know that I’d feel entirely comfortable watching it.” “If you want to skip the premiere screening you can.” He smiled, only a little bit teasing.   You laughed, “No, just give me a heads up when it’s coming up so I can close my eyes or pop out to the bathroom or something.” He chuckled, “Alright, deal.’ You swallowed thickly, “You don’t feel anything for her, do you? Your co-star I mean.” “No, definitely not. She’s beautiful, can’t deny that, and she’d really great to work with, but no.” You nodded again but before you could say anything more he’d pulled your hand to his chest, “You’re my heart. I want to do the scene because I think it’s important for the story we’re telling and the character I’m playing, but you are the only person I actually want to be with.” You smiled, “I know, but it’s very nice to hear you say it.” “I can do more than say it, if you like, I can prove it?” “How would you do tha-” Pedro cut you off, leaning in to kiss your neck and you melted into him with a nod and an, “mmhmm, yes please.” He laughed softly against your ear, making a shiver run down your spine, his hands already moving to remove your clothes, “It’ll be my absolute pleasure.”

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Sexual Healing

The Waves Are Rising and Rising extra scene #2

Y'all come get your '3zun finally have good sex' Extended Edition Director's Cut here! (As in this extra directly follows on where chapter 12 fades to black lol)

--//--

Is it possible to be hypnotized by sex?

Maybe that’s what’s wrong with Jin Guangshan; maybe his lecherous tendencies are only partially his own fault, maybe he’s been so steeped in them for so long that he can’t help it.

Maybe thinking of that disgusting cad (who is entirely in control of his lust, Nie Mingjue knows logically) at a time like this is wildly counterproductive. (Or, he supposes, it could be productive considering he’s meant to be focusing on the ledgers, and losing some of the heat simmering in his belly can only help with trying to reason through the accounts.)

“Focus,” Meng- Jin Guangyao murmurs, and how does he always know? He braces himself for the usual flash of suspicious spiralling that always accompanies thoughts of his sworn brother these days, even lately, even considering…everything, and exhales a slow sigh of relief when it doesn’t come slinking out of the miraculous quiet in the back of his mind.

“Blame yourself if I can’t focus as well as you’d like,” he tells Men- Jin Guangyao, currently perched in his lap like he’s decided to take up permanent residence there. (Considering his initial performance tonight, Nie Mingjue would be more than happy to let him do so.)

Jin Guangyao sniffs a playfully disdainful, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” right as he leans forward to hold the ledger in his hands closer to the candle on the table and Nie Mingjue bites off a swear as the motion grinds Jin Guangyao’s ass right against his dick, currently half-hard, painfully sensitive, and only barely covered by the single robe he’d thrown on for the sake of some vague nod at propriety. Perhaps one of those things is his own fault…but two out of the three aren’t! It’s still definitely Jin Guangyao’s fault that he’s in this state.

“Perhaps the ledgers would be more easily deciphered in the morning,” Lan Xichen posits not for the first time and alright, so maybe it’s not all Jin Guangyao’s fault. He risks a glance over at the bed and has to steel himself against the sight of Lan Xichen sprawled out in a way that would give any other Lan a conniption, and not just because he’s lounging around gloriously nude.

“I felt that,” Jin Guangyao mutters, audibly smirking, and Nie Mingjue considers just dumping him off his lap. Since when is it Jin Guangyao’s business what his cock does upon seeing Lan Xichen so clearly enjoying himself? He hasn’t decided on a course of action before Jin Guangyao is speaking again, turning a page with an entirely too-dramatic flick of his slender wrist, the motion following all the way through the graceful lines of his fingers, as he says, “We’re nearly done, er-ge, and then I promise we’ll have sex with you for the rest of the night.”

Nie Mingjue, feeling contrary and mostly as a matter of principle, growls, “Speak for yourself, I like sleeping after sex,” and immediately regrets it when Lan Xichen pouts at him rather devastatingly.

Too breezy to be sincere, Jin Guangyao says, “We hardly need you to participate if you find you’re not able to…rise to the task, ge-” the paper flutters as he flicks to the next page “-though I believe I can reasonably assert that it wouldn’t be from a lack of physical ability. Or desire, for that matter.”

“Stop feeling it,” he hisses, cheeks burning, and very pointedly ignores Lan Xichen barely muffling a laugh in the rumpled bedding.

“Then stop poking me with it!”

“You sat on me!”

“You didn’t leave me any other seating options!”

“Enough, you two,” Lan Xichen calls, still chuckling. Nie Mingjue half-buries his face in the crook of Jin Guangyao’s shoulder to glare down at the ledgers while still at least somewhat hiding the flush in his cheeks that fades slowly as they settle again. He doesn’t lift his head though, even once there’s nothing left to hide; Jin Guangyao’s too-angular shoulder is surprisingly comfortable, and if Nie Mingjue likes the feeling of holding him close with his entire body then that’s his own business. 

“Hmm Mingjue, what’s this one? These are all quite expensive, we don’t typically pay this much for hostlers,” Jin Guangyao murmurs, tapping a well-manicured fingernail against a column near the middle of a page. Rather than allowing himself to obsess over that casual ‘we’, Nie Mingjue glances up at the corner of the page to check the date and reaches around Jin Guangyao’s waist to turn the book enough to see the cover so he can place which type of spending it should be — non-agricultural livestock, and in the spring so it must have been-

“The horse fair,” he replies when it clicks in his memory (gods but he’d really forgotten what it’s like to have a mind that just works, his recall sharp and easy in a way it hasn’t been in longer than he’d care to think about). “We never hosted one while you were here, and then of course we couldn’t participate during the war, but we finally came up again in the rotation. It’s not a normal expense so there’s nothing else to balance it against, but it should all be in order. I did it myself and Zonghui cross-checked it.”

Nie Mingjue can’t decide if he loves or hates Jin Guangyao’s judgy little, “Hm.” Maybe it’s more that he isn’t sure if he loves or hates having this again, even temporarily; the Nie Sect runs well these days between himself and Zonghui…but no one is quite like Jin Guangyao. Meng Yao. His right hand, his confidante, his advisor, his everything—

Nie Mingjue takes a slow breath in, holds it, releases it again just as slowly. Jin Guangyao pats at Nie Mingjue’s arm around his waist like he barely even notices he’s doing it, still bent forward a little to pore over the ledgers sitting open in front of him, cross-checking and flipping back and forth through them with deft fingers as he mutters to himself.

He never thought he’d have this again. He never thought he’d want this again, not after everything that’s happened. Of course he’d missed Jin Guangyao, but he’d missed who he was, and there’s no recovering that. Meng Yao is as good as dead (though Nie Mingjue could never bring himself to be the one to kill him), and a cruel, conniving snake wearing his face replaced the man Nie Mingjue thought he knew.

Except…that isn’t true anymore. So much of him is still the same as he’s always been underneath the rest of it, and Nie Mingjue can’t in good conscience go on ignoring that, not even for the sake of his grudges.

He presses a kiss to Jin Guangyao’s jaw, featherlight, little more than a tease, and Jin Guangyao tuts a fond, “Da-ge,” in the same way he used to chide him (“Zongzhu”) whenever he’d find him still up in the small hours of the morning, working late enough for their paths to cross when Meng Yao was just starting his day.

Jin Guangyao skims quickly through page after page of complex figures, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t have to be able to see his face to know how quickly his eyes are flicking up and down the columns, his quick mind recreating what he’s looking at for his flawless memory to catalog before he flicks to the next page, as good a record as (if not better than) the physical ledger itself. Nie Mingjue still marvels as much as ever over such prodigious talent, and still can’t quite believe that it’s once again being put to use to help him and his Sect — a particular kind of care that he’d always cherished.

He also still pours more of himself than anyone should ask of him into his goals, and Nie Mingjue can’t pretend anymore to be unaffected by the fact that one of his main goals is now, apparently, ensuring Nie Mingjue doesn’t lose himself to rage like every Nie sect leader who came before him. How could he turn away from that? He’s not heartless; far from it, and Jin Guangyao has always been able to reach straight into him to tug on his heart as easily as breathing…for better or for worse.

With the clarity of dual cultivation he can recognize, in retrospect, that whatever plots Jin Guangyao might have against him that can be accomplished by sharing his bed would be so convoluted and twisted as to be nearly impossible to plan while also running Jinlintai as they all know he does. In between beatings and the administrative duties of an entire sect when would he have the time? Nie Mingjue doesn’t doubt that he could do it, but if he were then wouldn’t Jin Guangshan reward him? Nie Mingjue doesn’t doubt for a minute that Jin Guangshan would prefer it if he were out of the picture, and the fact remains that Jin Guangyao is a logical first choice to make that happen. Who else in Jinlintai has such unquestioned access to him both in his own home and outside of the fortress? Who else in Nie Mingjue’s close circle has shown no hesitation before killing someone ostensibly on their own side for personal gain as easily as for public good? He knows his suspicions aren’t unfounded, even when his reactions in the past may have been…disproportionate.

Jin Guangyao sighs and pulls his unbound hair over one shoulder, leaning forward to the candle again, though this time it seems like he actually needs to and he’s not using it as an excuse to wind him up. That’s all to the good, as when he moves Nie Mingjue can’t help but notice the mottled purple shadow of a bruise that looks far too much like a thumbprint on the center of his neck, right on his spine, and feels anger — clean, justified anger, not the nauseous rage of Baxia — harden something in his chest. No, Jin Guangyao can’t possibly be in Jin Guangshan’s favor. Maybe he’s still hypnotized from whatever the hell just happened — whether it was the sex or the dual cultivation or both intertwined — but he finds he would much rather trust Jin Guangyao than hate him.

He’d never wanted to hate him in the first place.

Nie Mingjue leans in to bury his face in the inviting fall of Jin Guangyao’s hair; he nuzzles his nose into the nape of his neck, presses a blind kiss to his skin, closes his eyes to better appreciate the full-body feeling of Jin Guangyao shivering delicately in his lap. 

“Da-ge,” he tuts again softly, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t want to heed him so he doesn’t. He forces himself to release his grip around Jin Guangyao’s waist in favor of holding his hips in both hands before dragging his palms around to his back and then sliding them up to his shoulders. (He’s always carried so much tension right there, his shoulders visibly knotted up from all his bowing, his hours spent hunched over a desk writing until well past the beginning of the guards’ third watch, his pain and his fear and seemingly everything in his life conspiring against him to make him uncomfortable. Nie Mingjue has never really been in a position to help him with it before, not really, but there’s nothing wrong with starting now.)

He presses the pads of his thumbs carefully to the snarled up muscles on either side of Jin Guangyao’s spine, between the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, and rewards him with another kiss to the graceful arch of his neck when he breathes through a little hitch of tension and then relaxes with obvious effort.

“Am I going to find any stray bruises if I do something about your poor back?” he mutters, quiet enough for Lan Xichen not to hear. It feels a little ridiculous to need to ask when they were all naked not even half a shichen ago, but Jin Guangyao hadn’t put his back to him at any point of the process; he’s not too proud to ask when not asking puts him at risk of hurting his partner.

Jin Guangyao hesitates for a long moment before he simply shakes his head in the negative and returns to his analysis of the reports. Nie Mingjue, satisfied with such tacit permission, begins carefully working to loosen up at least some of Jin Guangyao’s tired muscles.

“Get his hip as well, da-ge,” Lan Xichen calls when he catches onto his goal a few minutes into the slow, careful massaging. “It might ache after sitting in your lap for so long.”

“Dual cultivating helps relieve my aches, da-ge need not concern himself with them,” Jin Guangyao says, conciliatory as always. Nie Mingjue ignores him and his ridiculous efforts to deflect to instead dutifully drop a hand to the side Jin Guangyao favors on the very rare occasions he gives into his need to limp. It’s immensely gratifying to hear him choke on some relieved noise in the back of his throat, and Nie Mingjue suddenly wishes they were facing each other so he could kiss him through it.

“You shouldn’t have hurt yourself just to do that for me,” Nie Mingjue tells him. He leans to the side enough to kiss the over-warm curve of Jin Guangyao’s ear and raises an eyebrow that the other man can’t see when he scoffs and flicks to the next page of the ledger a little too aggressively.

“If I were to avoid any and all positions that hurt in some way either during or after the fact, I would have to resort to being nothing more than a passive observer. I’d be able to do little but recline on a luxuriously cushioned sofa and watch you two have sex without me.”

Not that he’s exactly opposed to that idea — not at all — but Nie Mingjue (and Lan Xichen, judging by the sad little noise he makes) hates the thought that Jin Guangyao has pushed himself too far not only once resulting in the the Fainting Incident, but every time they’ve been together. Besides…it’s not like he wants Jin Guangyao’s suggestion to become their sex life permanently. There has to be some way they can position themselves that doesn’t aggravate his old injuries to the point of requiring a massage even when he has a core freshly overflowing with more than enough qi to ease his everyday aches and pains.

“Hm,” Nie Mingjue hums against the crook of his neck to show that he’s heard, at least. Jin Guangyao seems content enough to drop it for now, and a few moments later Nie Mingjue realizes why.

Nie Mingjue is still rubbing gentle circles into his back and hip when Jin Guangyao sits up perfectly straight so fast his bony shoulder clips Nie Mingjue’s chin and he points triumphantly down at a column in the agriculture ledger that looks…perfectly fine.

“I found it! And in half the time it would have taken you as well,” he preens. “You’ve recorded half of your expenses for the horse fair twice — double the amount of grain, far more hostlers than you would ever need for anything, and you’ve counted a commission of saddles and blankets among both the fair goods and as supplies for the soldiers’ mounts. Subtract the fair goods from the normal agricultural report, have Zonghui readjust the tallies against the quartermaster’s reports from the spring, and it’ll balance again.”

Jin Guangyao twists at the hips to look up at him and Nie Mingjue can barely breathe through the want suddenly squeezing around his rib cage; Jin Guangyao’s wide eyes are bright and he’s smiling without any guile whatsoever, pleased with himself and teasing in equal measure. He has no right to be so beautiful without even trying.

“Coincidentally you’re also likely to see complaints from the bladesmiths soon for the rising costs of ore even with your interventions. You should send someone to check the integrity of those operating the mines instead of continuing to absorb the cost, it’s unnecessary when you could simply solve the root issue with some intimidation and stricter accounting. But that’s a separate problem that I must assume wasn’t brought to your attention in the face of…everything else.”

Nie Mingjue scowls but knows that he has no real argument. The Nie are plenty wealthy enough to afford a bit of mishandling somewhere in their various supply chains and he assumes that Zonghui has ordered an investigation into the problem at least, but Jin Guangyao is right. There are things that have been neglected while he’s simply not well enough to address them, and though it makes him burn with a shameful sort of anger, considering it’s entirely directed inward he does nothing to vent that anger to Jin Guangyao, who’s simply doing what he always did before. There was a time when Meng Yao dared to advise him in ways no one else in the Sect would risk trying, arguing in that gentle way of his to help Nie Mingjue see at least a few feet through the fog outside the easy, straightforward path of his own cut-and-dry logic.

Gods but he misses him.

“Thank you, A-Yao,” he murmurs against Jin Guangyao’s cheek, kissing him slowly simply because he can (and he feels like he might burst into flames if he doesn’t).

Lan Xichen clears his throat delicately and practically purrs, “I believe A-Yao deserves a reward.”

Jin Guangyao smiles wider and turns his head to look at Lan Xichen; with his cheek out of reach, Nie Mingjue drops his head to kiss his shoulder again instead and returns to massaging wherever he feels like touching next.

“Weren’t you meant to tend to Mingjue again?”

“A-Huan’s right, you first,” Nie Mingjue tells him before Lan Xichen is pushed to choose between them. He slides his hand up from Jin Guangyao’s hip to tug at the loose tie of his borrowed robe enough to slip his hand between the layers and press his palm over Jin Guangyao’s lower dantian, where his core is practically spilling over with their combined qi. He feels the hitch of Jin Guangyao’s next inhale as much as he hears it, and in a sudden burst of inspiration he reaches out with a little thread of his own qi, still marveling at how easy and clear it feels, and lets it seep an extra bit of warmth into Jin Guangyao’s skin.

“I have an idea, since you’ve become so interested in learning cultivation techniques,” he adds, hoping he isn’t overstepping. “Since you showed me what you and Xichen learned together, how about Xichen and I show you something?”

There is, of course, the risk that Jin Guangyao is going to take that as poorly as he’s taken every other conversation about his cultivation. (Not conversations, he supposes begrudgingly. Criticisms. Criticisms that he had levelled at him, utterly unfairly. Of course they hadn’t gone over well, but he can make amends, can’t he? He wants to with a desperation that makes his heart race-)

“Oh?” Jin Guangyao murmurs, leaning back more heavily against his chest. “What do you have in mind? Planning to put me through my paces?”

Nie Mingjue relaxes with an exhale that shakes ever so slightly right at the very end and shakes his head, though a moment later he realizes it’s not exactly incorrect and switches to a shrug. “Actually…maybe? That’s going to be up to A-Huan I suppose, he knows how to do this better than I do. I’ll let him lead.”

He glances over at Lan Xichen and smirks when he sees it click, what he’s suggesting, and right on the heels of it the sparkle of mischief in his eyes that he’d very much like to see turned on Jin Guangyao for a change.

“I highly doubt this was the purpose my ancestors had in mind when they created the technique,” Lan Xichen sniffs, but he still sits up to strip the covers back down to the foot of the bed out of their way, so really who’s right and who’s wrong?

(It’s Nie Mingjue, he’s well aware that he’s right.)

“Your ancestors established thousands of rules to keep their passions in check long enough to focus on cultivating. They absolutely knew what they were inventing.” 

“As charming as your bickering is-” Jin Guangyao says “-are either of you going to explain?”

“Bring him here, Mingjue,” Lan Xichen orders; Nie Mingjue doesn’t let Jin Guangyao have time to be offended that no answer is forthcoming. He takes a mischievous sort of delight of his own in bundling Jin Guangyao up in his arms and rolling to his feet with him, smirking as he suddenly finds himself in a bit of a chokehold when Jin Guangyao twists in grip to throw his arms around his neck with an uncharacteristic little yelp. He’s never so unguarded, and Nie Mingjue wonders what else he’s hiding behind his perpetual polite barriers. He’s seen his anger now, of course, and his pain, but there must be more than sharp claws under all that desperate need to please, to be liked. Nie Mingjue wants to find it all with a ferocity that surprises him.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough, clever little thing you are,” Nie Mingjue soothes when Jin Guangyao shoots him an offended glare once he’s safely deposited on the bed. He leaves Lan Xichen the pleasure of stripping Jin Guangyao of the single (Lan) robe he’d thrown on as he strips down himself, and when he’s ready to climb back into bed Lan Xichen needs no prompting to lift Jin Guangyao into his own arms and let Nie Mingjue settle in, his upper back supported by the bolster, his head resting against the lacquered wooden frame behind it.

“Why are you both suddenly so bossy?” Jin Guangyao grumps but he makes no obvious attempts to squirm out of Lan Xichen’s grip so Nie Mingjue just smirks and makes sure he’s fully comfortable before he gestures for Lan Xichen to return Jin Guangyao to him.

“Because you’re fun to tease and we will reward you handsomely for tolerating it,” Lan Xichen hums. “Now, I believe you asked for a cushioned seat from which to participate?”

“What-”

Nie Mingjue accepts Jin Guangyao’s weight in his lap again happily, though this time of course he goes further and coaxes Jin Guangyao into laying back against his chest, his legs draped wide over Nie Mingjue’s thighs to help support his hips while still keeping him open for whatever Lan Xichen would like to do to him. Jin Guangyao goes very still for a long moment — in which Nie Mingjue wraps his arm firmly around his middle and double checks that Jin Guangyao’s hair isn’t caught and at risk of getting tugged on where his back is pressed to his chest — and then, suddenly, all at once, he melts. He goes so relaxed, so boneless, that Nie Mingjue nearly thinks he’s passed out until Jin Guangyao turns his head enough to crane his neck and look at him, and Nie Mingjue meets his gaze steadily.

“Hi.”

“Comfortable?”

Jin Guangyao blinks up at him, slow and lazy like a particularly contented cat, and if Nie Mingjue didn’t know any better he’d say that there’s something like vulnerability lurking in his dark gaze.

“Mhm.”

He raises his free hand to cup Jin Guangyao’s jaw in the interest of making sure he isn’t even straining his neck to look up at him, and when he relaxes into the hold Nie Mingjue rewards him with a kiss that part of him (most of him) still expects to be rejected every time he tries it. But as with every careful kiss that’s preceded it, Jin Guangyao doesn’t shy away from him, insead returning it with a cautious sort of enthusiasm that only falters when Lan Xichen apparently decides he’s done testing the waters in favor of getting straight to what they all want.

Jin Guangyao gasps in sudden pleasure against his mouth, stuttering and ragged. Nie Mingjue feels it like a hook tugging in his gut, and he’s unsurprised to find he’s not exactly interested in sleeping as soon as possible anymore. Sharp teeth nip at the tender inside of his bottom lip and he refuses to let Jin Guangyao break the kiss to apologize; if he doesn’t want to be bitten that’s fine, but Nie Mingjue can take it — wants to take it. That’ll probably settle uneasily, he thinks, for a man so unnervingly obsessed with scores and keeping them even, but that’s just not how this works, nothing about this thing between them — between all of them — can be measured so easily as that.

“Relax, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen pauses long enough to say; Nie Mingjue smirks at the offended noise Jin Guangyao can’t articulate past the insistent press of Nie Mingjue’s mouth on his.

His snickering earns him another nip, sharper this time, and he’s pretty sure Jin Guangyao can feel what it does to him considering how tightly they’re pressed together, and especially with Lan Xichen’s weight pressing Jin Guangyao’s hips down that much more firmly against Nie Mingjue’s. Jin Guangyao finally breaks the kiss when he turns his head in favor of tilting it back and resting it on Nie Mingjue’s chest to pant up at the ceiling. A glance down the length of him ends very abruptly with the sight of a very devoted and focused Lan Xichen between his legs with Jin Guangyao’s cock almost completely buried in his mouth.

“You know,” he muses, still smirking a little, “I think I’m actually with A-Yao on this one — how is he supposed to relax when you’re doing that to him?”

“Er-ge is absolutely not allowed to stop and answer that question, but this one thanks you for your support,” Jin Guangyao huffs, shifting restlessly until he finally just reaches one hand up and back to grab a fistful of Nie Mingjue’s hair to ground himself. Nie Mingjue bends his neck a bit to allow it more easily, wary of Jin Guangyao straining his shoulder to reach so far when his one job at the moment is to make sure that nothing pains him at all until Lan Xichen deems himself satisfied.

Nie Mingjue trails his free hand along the contours of Jin Guangyao’s side, starting at his hip and trailing teasingly light fingertips along his ribs (still far too prominent for his liking) and then up the arm still hooked up and back until he’s wrapped his hand around Jin Guangyao’s fist, urging him to keep it right where it is.

“Does anything hurt?” he asks, mouth pressed against Jin Guangyao’s ear. Jin Guangyao shakes his head quickly back and forth but he seems to be, for once, at a loss for words. Not that Nie Mingjue doesn’t like his conversation, but there’s something compelling about reducing someone so damn articulate to wordless, artless, guileless moaning, even when he can’t exactly claim the bragging rights for this one.

Though the answer seems obvious, he still finds himself pressing for more with a smug, “Do you feel good, A-Yao?” punctuated with a kiss tucked away just for them behind the delicate curve of Jin Guangyao’s ear, cut short by his frantic nodding. Part of him desperately wants to know what it is Lan Xichen is doing with his mouth that’s so good, and when he got so good at whatever it is, but there are more immediate matters that need his attention.

“I think he’s close, A-Huan.”

He watches Lan Xichen work his way back off slowly, feels Jin Guangyao’s back arch and his legs tense where they’re still draped over Nie Mingjue’s, and at what must be the absolute last moment before Jin Guangyao comes Lan Xichen pops off him with an obscene, wet little noise and Nie Mingjue abruptly feels his qi between them, muffled and muted but close enough to soothe even though he’s not the target.

Jin Guangyao keens, frustrated and confused, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t even wince as his hair is yanked and Jin Guangyao shivers, a full-body thing in the wake of the orgasm Lan Xichen has just stopped and redirected with an expert thread of qi.

“I- What-”

“Focus on your core,” Lan Xichen instructs, calm and collected save for how his voice is rough even after he clears his throat. “You’re alright, I’ll give you another, just cultivate for a moment.”

Jin Guangyao clearly struggles with it for a few long moments, his qi moving in fits and starts, slipping in and out of his control only to be caught by Lan Xichen’s deft touch whenever he fumbles it so that he doesn’t lose the progress entirely. Nie Mingjue tracks it all through his hand on Jin Guangyao’s belly, his arm still wrapped around him to support his weight and hold him steady, keep him grounded, as Lan Xichen sort of… brute forces his way into teaching Jin Guangyao a new cultivation method.

As always, though, he’s a quick study no matter how steep the learning curve, and before the energy has been completely absorbed into his overflowing core Jin Guangyao takes over directing it himself, Lan Xichen’s qi slowly withdrawing until he breaks the thread of it connecting them and pauses to let Jin Guangyao catch his breath.

“And he swears that technique was never a sex thing,” Nie Mingjue mutters just for the pleasure of hearing Jin Guangyao laugh while Lan Xichen sits up on his knees to give Jin Guangyao some space to come down from his almost-orgasm.

“It works for redirecting any type of building energy, Mingjue, it doesn’t have to be sexual pleasure.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me you’ve only ever used it while sparring or practicing your forms? You’ve never used it in the privacy of your own home during ‘personal meditation’-”

“That is beside the point!”

Nie Mingjue is a gracious victor, so he simply raises an eyebrow at Lan Xichen to claim the point and then turns his attention back to Jin Guangyao still recovering, though he’s nearly back to himself if Nie Mingjue is any judge. He runs an assessing hand over any potential sore spots and lingers on Jin Guangyao’s bad knee just barely in his reach. He rubs careful circles around the knob of it and earns a smile from Lan Xichen as Jin Guangyao sighs, slumps more firmly against him, and finally releases his grip in his hair to drop his arm again and reach for Lan Xichen instead. Nie Mingjue watches their hands tangle together without a shred of jealousy.

“This humble one thanks er-ge for his instruction,” Jin Guangyao mumbles, and it’s interesting to watch Lan Xichen practically melt for him when Nie Mingjue can do so without the usual accompanying flash of irritation (that he realizes in hindsight and without Baxia’s influence might actually just be jealousy, plain and simple). “It’s a Lan technique?”

“Mm. Do you think you’ll find it useful?”

“Oh yes.” Nie Mingjue tries not to visibly perk up at the mischief he can hear lurking in Jin Guangyao’s drowsy voice. “It can only be to my benefit to have such an effective method of making my nights in Lanling so… productive. I’m sure er-ge understands.”

Er-ge definitely understands, Nie Mingjue thinks, as Lan Xichen hides his reddened face in his hands and his shoulders shake with helpless laughter, clearly fond even with his expression hidden.

“I don’t,” Nie Mingjue lies to make Lan Xichen swat at his leg in reprimand, “maybe someone should explain it plainly.”

“Well, since you’ve asked so politely, Mingjue, when a man has desires he can’t otherwise fulfil with anoth– er-ge!”

Lan Xichen doesn’t so much as pause to appreciate Jin Guangyao’s laughing admonishment as he lays down again with single-minded determination tightening his handsome features into intense focus, stretched out on his stomach and his arms tucked under Nie Mingjue’s spread thighs; he only glances at Jin Guangyao through his lashes on his way down to make sure he gets the expected nod before he’s sliding Jin Guangyao’s cock into his mouth for a second round. Jin Guangyao’s breathless laughter ends on a groan and Nie Mingjue decides to enjoy the view properly this time, doing nothing more than holding Jin Guangyao steady and keeping him as relaxed and pliant as he can manage while he watches Lan Xichen work him in and out of his mouth with occasional flashes of his tongue to give some hint of what he’s doing that’s making Jin Guangyao whimper and shift restlessly in Nie Mingjue’s grip like he can’t quite help himself.

As far as distraction methods go, it’s an extremely effective one.

“I have another technique you know,” Lan Xichen tells Nie Mingjue when Jin Guangyao is recovering again after being gotten off properly, panting harshly in Nie Mingjue’s ear and shivering through intermittent aftershocks lengthened by Lan Xichen’s lazy stroking of his spent cock. “I didn’t want to suggest it when you’re meant to be careful with your cultivation, but tonight…”

It’s fine now that Nie Mingjue is clear-headed and cultivating cleanly for the first time in a long time; Lan Xichen doesn’t say it, but the meaning is clear.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“You’re already familiar with the effects, but not the method,” Lan Xichen hedges, smiling his ‘I’m about to do something sexually mischievous’ smile that Nie Mingjue may or may not be developing some sort of embarrassingly eager physical reaction to. “I believe a demonstration is going to be the most appropriate method of teaching.”

“Of course you do. Will I move A-Yao?”

“He can stay if he’d like, he looks quite comfortable.”

Jin Guangyao, now fully boneless and relying entirely on Nie Mingjue to hold him in place, lifts a weak hand to pat at and around his face until Nie Mingjue relents enough to duck in and kiss him.

“Keep me right here,” Jin Guangyao presses against his mouth. “I want to stay like this.”

Nie Mingjue very carefully doesn’t think about how much he’d like for the request to mean something much more long-term than just tonight and nods, tightening his arm around Jin Guangyao’s middle in silent reassurance.

It takes a little bit of careful readjusting at Lan Xichen’s rather handsy direction to manage a position that makes it both possible to do whatever it is he has in mind that also keeps Jin Guangyao sprawled out so decadently in a way Nie Mingjue is sure he’s never allowed himself to be before, but they manage it with minimal jostling and Nie Mingjue discovers that what Lan Xichen had in mind is another round of slow, steady sex that feels strangely like sinking into a particularly good, warm bath at the end of a long day.

The beats of it are all familiar now, the way the tension in the pit of his stomach coils tighter and tighter as he becomes aware of everywhere he’s being touched all at once, overwhelming and pleasurable and just on the right side of too much in the final moment before Lan Xichen nudges him carefully into the almost comfortable pulse of an orgasm unaccompanied by a rush of his qi. (He realizes on a slight delay that actually there was no qi involved at all.)

He savors it, of course, he isn’t ungrateful, but he is ever so slightly confused as he starts to come down from the peak of it; it was nice, it was good, but there was nothing particularly new and unusual about it. He opens his eyes and his mouth, intending to ask Lan Xichen what he wanted to show him, only to feel a little zing of qi, a sharp zap of it that doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but it definitely gets his attention.

And he’s hard again.

“Oh for— Is that how you do it?!” he asks, incredulous, and Lan Xichen smiles at him so sweetly he must have picked up the trick of it from Jin Guangyao.

“What did he do, ge?” Jin Guangyao mumbles, sounding half-asleep but curious, unwilling to not be a part of this night full of sex he’d so foolishly promised to a man with terrifying stamina and no apparent sense of how much sex is normal and appropriate. Nie Mingjue finds himself abruptly glad that there’s two of them here; he’s not sure if he were alone he’d survive a full night of Lan Xichen when he’s so clearly in a mood.

“To be fair, I didn’t quite realize I was doing it at first,” Lan Xichen explains. “It’s second nature to use my qi for such mundane things like a bit of fatigue, I didn’t make the connection until I was with A-Yao and the first influx of my qi helped him recover much more quickly than anticipated.”

“Mmm I can vouch for that,” Jin Guangyao mumbles; Nie Mingjue ignores the lingering jealousy still nagging at him that he wasn’t a part of that night in favor of turning his head to nuzzle Jin Guangyao’s cheek until he’s pouting and pulling back from the scratch of his mustache.

“Wake up, A-Yao, you’ve created a monster and you should take responsibility.”

“I am fully awake, er-ge’s naked.”

Those two statements don’t seem to be as related as Jin Guangyao apparently thinks but it makes Lan Xichen laugh anyway — his bright delighted one that happens surprisingly rarely for someone as happy as he generally is — so maybe it’s just that Nie Mingjue doesn’t get it, and that’s fine.

“Well if you’re awake then you should realize it’s your turn again.”

“Er-ge didn’t get me hard,” Jin Guangyao points out rather haughtily for someone as muzzy around the edges as he seems to be. Nie Mingjue looks down at him to find him tilting his head back enough to meet his gaze again, and from what Nie Mingjue can see he’s smirking just as much as Lan Xichen is. Nie Mingjue wonders if sex mischief can be deadly, and certainly hopes not. (He will not currently be examining just how desperately he hopes not.)

“You don’t want to go again?”

Jin Guangyao squints up at him for a long moment before he takes a deep breath in and sits up with what looks like a monumental effort. Nie Mingjue hisses for the unexpected friction on his groin and he’s glad that Lan Xichen is already catching Jin Guangyao’s arms and helping him sit up because Nie Mingjue isn’t currently capable of doing anything except trying not to come again from the sensation alone.

(He hadn’t quite realized until tonight that he’s apparently prone to reaching an orgasm more easily after the first few, rather than less.)

“It’s not exactly a question of not wanting to,” Jin Guangyao hedges as he goes up onto his knees (Nie Mingjue’s dick is very grateful) and carefully turns to straddle Nie Mingjue’s waist, his hair a tangled mess and his mouth tipped up into a gorgeously playful little smile. It’s weirdly soothing to see him so clearly enjoying himself, to see him having fun with them. He’d be lying if he said that wasn’t at least half of the reason he’d so thoroughly enjoyed the little show they’d started the evening with, Jin Guangyao so deliciously pleased to have something to lord over him and tease him with that he hadn’t even minded being the subject of his teasing.

Attraction is a strange thing, he’s finding.

When Jin Guangyao does nothing more than watch him expectantly and trace idle circles around one of his pecs with a fingertip, Nie Mingjue breaks enough to sigh and take the obvious bait. “What’s it a question of, then?”

“It’s a matter of principle. You still have a question to ask me, and I believe er-ge deserves his reward now. Don’t you agree?”

Oh.

Nie Mingjue actually feels his blood pressure drop utterly unaided by Lan Xichen and his little cultivation tricks, and though Jin Guangyao can’t see what the reminder did to him he smirks like he knows anyway. He would like to think that under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be nearly so easy to put him on his metaphorical knees and make him obey, but even now he can tell there’s trying to save face and then there’s blatantly lying to himself; that would most certainly fall under the second heading.

He takes a deep breath in, Jin Guangyao’s hands resting on his chest moving with it, and asks, “May I have Xichen’s mouth?”

Jin Guangyao’s dark, assessing eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up to meet his for an endless moment that leaves him feeling more than a little breathless. He sucks in as quiet of a shivering gasp as he can manage when Jin Guangyao finally deigns to let him attempt to calm down; he twists at the hips to look at Lan Xichen behind him and though Nie Mingjue could try to lean to the side to get a good look at their partner as well he finds himself unable to look away from the pure aura of authority Jin Guangyao is suddenly wearing draped over his narrow shoulders. He keeps his gaze fixed on the corner of Jin Guangyao’s jaw, the soft curve of it interrupted with a little pink mark in the shape of Nie Mingjue’s mouth, and he runs his hands slowly up and down the soft, warm expanse of his thighs as he waits. 

The cue Lan Xichen was clearly waiting for had apparently been silent, as one moment Nie Mingjue is waiting on pins and needles for Jin Guangyao to look at him again and the next he’s arching up completely involuntarily with a groan he can’t hope to stop. Lan Xichen’s mouth is hot around him and all hope of higher thought is cheerfully thrown right out the window.

“I know,” Jin Guangyao tells him, muffled against his mouth as he kisses him in a way that’s helping him focus on the present, which really just means that he can feel everything and there’s no sinking away into his own thoughts to try to deal with the onslaught of sensation. Lan Xichen is doing something with his tongue while he sucks on him like he’ll die if he doesn’t, and Jin Guangyao is digging his nails into his chest and biting at his parted lips and it strikes Nie Mingjue in a single heartbeat how very unprepared he feels to have this. He whimpers, there’s really no other word for it, and all it gets him is Lan Xichen helping him throw a leg over his shoulder and Jin Guangyao brushing his tongue along Nie Mingjue’s bottom lip to soothe the sharp echoes of his bites.

It’s the first time he’s felt something on his cock that isn’t a hand, and he feels like that’s a fair enough reason all on its own to find controlling himself nigh on impossible. He must be crushing Lan Xichen between his thighs now both slung over his shoulders, but all Lan Xichen does is suck him harder, take him in a little further with a moan low in his chest, and Jin Guangyao doesn’t do Nie Mingjue the courtesy of muffling the next whine that somehow escapes his throat.

“I know,” Jin Guangyao repeats, sympathetic, and brushes a few sweat-damp wisps of hair off his forehead for him with the pass of a palm. “It’s so much but it’s too good to ask him to stop, hm?”

Coherent speech is just as much of a pipe dream as coherent thought; Nie Mingjue can only nod and choke on a ragged moan bordering on a sob of overstimulation. There’s skin and sweat and heat and such intensely exquisite pleasure everywhere, he’s pinned down beneath both of his lovers and helpless to do anything but accept what they’ve decided to give him, and he’s glad somewhere in the back of his mind beneath the haze of it all that they understand without being told that he feels like he’ll die if they stop touching him.

Lan Xichen doesn’t tease him, whether out of mercy or his own impatience hardly matters. He should probably be embarrassed by how quickly he’s coaxed into another orgasm, Lan Xichen’s cheek pressed against his cock as he rubs circles around the oversensitive head with his fingertips, apparently uncaring that Nie Mingjue must be getting come in his hair as he nuzzles close and kisses the seam of his thigh with eager heat. Jin Guangyao tuts some more, brushes his hair back again, kisses him sweetly — and twists one of his nipples between two knuckles with his free hand until Nie Mingjue becomes absolutely nothing but a vessel for sensation.

“I yield,” is the first thing that comes to mind when he can think again, some strange and syrupy amount of time later. He even goes so far as to tap a hand on Jin Guangyao’s back like a wrestler who’s been born down to the ground, pinned and incapable of escape except by surrender; let him lose face, let him be weaker than the men he loves, he doesn’t care. There’s no valor to be won here, no spectators to jeer and humiliate a Nie who can’t even win a feat of pure brute strength, there’s just his clever lovers and their determination to absolutely destroy him.

“Oh dear,” Jin Guangyao tuts and Nie Mingjue cracks one eye open to glare at him and his smug condescension that’s too fucking attractive for this exact moment in time. “Er-ge, I believe you broke him.”

“I recall you were similarly affected, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen chuckles, “but perhaps we should let him retreat gracefully, since he’s asked so nicely.”

“To think, the great Chifeng-zun bested by nothing more than clever fingers and a talented mouth,” Jin Guangyao muses, tapping his palm against Nie Mingjue’s cheek; he doesn’t stop himself from turning into the gesture, lifting one clumsy hand from beside his hip to catch Jin Guangyao’s wrist and hold him still long enough to kiss his palm in the way he feels like he still can’t get enough of.

“Not nothing more,” he rumbles, “Let’s see how well you fare after you’ve had his mouth and his fingers and his cock in you.”

“Ah?!”

“Oh could I, A-Yao? Please?”

“What?!”

Nie Mingjue can’t help but smirk as Jin Guangyao pushes himself upright again, sitting nearly all of his weight across Nie Mingjue’s waist, and twists to look at Lan Xichen over his shoulder again.

“Er-ge, really? Again?”

“That last barely counted, simply a matter of sympathetic pleasure…”

Did Lan Xichen come just because Nie Mingjue had, with no one even touching him? The evidence suggests yes, as absurd as that sounds.

“You can’t leave him wanting, A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue tells him, still smirking. “How cruel, to let him watch you all night but only please you once. You know how much he likes indulging you.”

“Twice, Mingjue, he’s already had me twice-!”

“So? He’d have you a half dozen times more before dawn if you’d let him,” Nie Mingjue chuckles.

Jin Guangyao blanches ever so slightly and this time Lan Xichen laughs, sweet and delighted, though he calms again quickly in favor of sitting up to straddle Nie Mingjue’s thighs and wrap his arms around Jin Guangyao’s waist, hugging him close and burying his nose and mouth against the crook of his neck.

“Please, A-Yao? Just once, I promise. We should let Mingjue rest. I believe three is enough for him for the night, but you have been more neglected than either of us this evening. Would you like one more?”

‘Neglected’ seems a little strong considering Jin Guangyao has certainly had a couple orgasms of his own already, but then Jin Guangyao is pouting and leaning back against Lan Xichen’s chest with a sweet little, “Er-ge is so attentive,” that’s so clearly an act, though he supposes none of them cares much whether it’s genuine or not.

The pair of them finally climb off him and though he’s left feeling surprisingly bereft after so much intimate contact for hours over the course of the evening, he’s at least relieved that there’s no more risk of stray body parts rubbing or crushing his oversensitive dick. Besides, it’s not like they’ve gone very far. Nie Mingjue turns onto his side and he barely has to stretch his hand half a foot across the bed before he can stroke one featherlight fingertip along the narrow dip of Jin Guangyao’s waist, bared to him and beautifully tempting in its vulnerability.

“Could you pass me the oil, ge?”

Nie Mingjue sits up with a tremendous effort and paws through the bedding clumsily enough the little ceramic pot comes tumbling out and nearly rolls off the bed, the lid thankfully secured by the pair of clever protrusions under the lip of it that mean it can only be loosened in one position. He twists the lid until it comes free and holds the open pot out to Lan Xichen, watching with avid interest as he dips two long fingers into it without bothering to take his mouth off Jin Guangyao’s thigh to watch what he’s doing. He sits there watching, struck dumb by the sight the pair of them make, until Lan Xichen has stretched Jin Guangyao adequately and slicked himself with another glistening scoop of oil on his fingers, and then he closes the pot again to lie down on his side like before, head propped on his fist and free hand stretched out to stroke distracting patterns on Jin Guangyao’s tender waist.

Watching Lan Xichen devote every ounce of his considerable attention to taking Jin Guangyao apart as lovingly and thoroughly as possible is something of a revelation. Watching Jin Guangyao willingly lose himself completely in pleasure, let Lan Xichen break down all his barriers and kiss away all his masks until he’s completely unfiltered for them both to appreciate as he chases his pleasure, is nothing short of miraculous.

“Now I’m satisfied,” Lan Xichen whispers afterwards against Jin Guangyao’s parted lips, kissed and bitten until they’re swollen and rouge-red, “at least enough to sleep.”

“Yes please,” Jin Guangyao whimpers, as much of a tap-out as Nie Mingjue’s literal surrender.

Nie Mingjue can’t even bring himself to raise the question of bathing. He works a rumpled silk brocade blanket the rest of the way out from underneath their tangled bodies and uses some clean section of it to deal with the worst of the mess, the covers underneath it thankfully not so offensive that they won’t be able to sleep under them. Lan Xichen promises to wake them at dawn for a proper bath before they’ll be expected to emerge for breakfast, Nie Mingjue kisses them both with all the tender emotion he can’t articulate, and Jin Guangyao curls up small and protected between them with a happy sigh and the smallest hint of a smile on his lips even after he’s fallen asleep.

Nie Mingjue sleeps like the dead with his arms carefully wrapped around both of them.

[bluedalahorse]

As my identified reference about Sara and August, I have a question for you about the end of s1.

When Sara goes to August's room to confront him, they end up kissing. Before I saw S2, I thought Sara was not really consenting, giving the way she looks away. I thought August was taking avantage of her.

Do you think she was "enjoying it" at that time, but maybe was wondering what was happening ?

Thanks for your ask! I’m happy to be your sargust expert.

And now to address your question. It’s an uncomfortable question to answer, but I’ll do my best to answer it all the same. Content note that we’re about to get into discussing consent and other difficult topics related to sexuality.

Generally my read on the situation is: yes, Sara consented. At the same time, she’s conflicted about her feelings for August in that scene, so I think what we’re seeing when she looks away is her struggling with her feelings about her desires.

While we talk a lot about the more positive depictions of sexual behavior in Young Royals, one thing that’s true about the show is that it actually depicts a range of sexual behaviors. Earlier in season 1, we have Simon nervously but happily kissing Wilhelm on movie night, but we also have Felice showing up at August’s room and initiating a hookup not out of desire but out of feelings of anger and insecurity. Felice and August both consent to the latter encounter, but both of them do so while in a negative headspace. Sara’s encounter with August in 1.6 occupies a sort of middle space between these two extremes. This is even evident by how the scene is blocked and directed. Sara showing up at August’s door reminds us of the way Felice shows up, but her first tentative kisses remind us of Simon on movie night. Sara does feel genuine desire—she’s the one who initiates the kissing, at first—but she’s also struggling with that desire and what it means for her understanding of herself, her relationship with her family, etc.

Another piece of important context for the confrontation scene is that both Sara and August are in not the best headspace. August has been grappling with the fact that he betrayed his core value of discretion released the video, and a lot of the buried resentment he feels toward Wilhelm has come to the surface. This is coming on the heels of August barely avoiding being kicked out of Hillerska after not being able to pay his boarding feels. Sara encountered her father in person on Lucia night—something caused by Simon going behind her back—and her house is now being hounded by journalists and her mom is threatening to pull her out of a school where she’s finally made friends. While neither of them is in as awful or traumatic a place as Wilhelm or Simon, for obvious reasons, I don’t imagine either of them has been sleeping well or taking care of themselves. This is likely something that’s cutting down on their usual inhibitions, and their decisions are driven partially by bad mental health/a stress response.

Regardless of the fact that Sara consents, I also think we’re meant to feel uncomfortable in that scene because we know how quickly things could go in a negative direction where Sara’s consent is disregarded. We know August’s views of women are crap. He has a lot more privilege, between the two of them, and he’s physically taller and stronger than Sara. If I recall (I’m trying not to rewatch the scene right now so I don’t accidentally rewatch Young Royals when I need to get work done) we even see him lift Sara up and put her on his desk. In a more idealized/less realistic teen drama, the directors might have tried to turn this into a ~sexy move~ via camera work, lighting, and sound mixing. But here it’s merely a demonstration of physical strength, and one that Sara’s not initially expecting. I don’t think Sara’s feeling threatened or coerced, in that moment, even if she’s surprised and even if all of this physical contact is new to her—I imagine season 2 would have played out very differently if she had felt that way—but I do think that we, as audience members, are supposed to feel the possibility of that threat, and worry for her.

(Something I also have considered in season 2 is the way that Sara is initiating a lot of the physical contact at the beginning of season 2, while also knowing August’s secret. Theoretically she could have blackmailed him into hooking up with her by threatening to go to the police with information. She doesn’t attempt to blackmail him, and August consents to physical contact with her even when he’s surprised by it. But the context in which Sara kisses August in 2.2 is supposed to bring this idea into our head, I think. Maybe. I go back and forth on what the writers want us to think there.)

Another way to think about these scenes, also, is that some sex educators recognize multiple categories of consent. For instance, Angela Chen recognizes four in her book on asexuality. Chen would probably label Sara’s consent in 1.6 as willing, but not enthusiastic. Likewise with August’s consent in 2.2.

Tl;dr consent is a complex topic and different sex educators have different paradigms about consent. Young Royals wholly acknowledges the importance of consent in sexual situations, while also acknowledging that not everyone who consents does so at perfect times, or with pure, uninterrupted feelings of love and desire in their heart. And I think being aware of that makes it easier to interpret scenes like the one above.

Hope this answers your question! There really are a lot of emotional layers to this show.