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#listen I also just hate casting on in general but THIS
history-barbie · 1 year
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Chain cast on makes me want to cast myself into the sea
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pedropascallme · 5 months
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After The After Party
Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader
Summary: “‘Have you ever noticed,’ Courtney popped her lips together, spreading the gloss, ‘That Damien only ever offers to host when he knows you’re going to come?’ She turned to you again, leaning back, elbows on the sink. ‘Almost like he just wants an excuse to have you over.’”
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, dom/sub dynamics, praise, creampie, soft!dom Damien who is also incredibly needy, mentions of drinking/alcohol, brief mention of gambling. If I missed anything please let me know!
AN: This is so dialogue heavy and I won't even apologize for it. Dedicated to the idiots to lovers mfs out there <3 part 2 here!!
Long shoot blocks, you’d learned, usually devolved into long nights out. The cast and crew—or, at least, those of whom had the time and the desire to let loose—often found themselves in bars with high ceilings, with music playing too loud, and drinks that were just strong enough. There were nights when you lost Arasha and Amanda to the grimy dancefloor as soon as you passed the threshold, and nights when you watched from afar as Chanse cozied up to a beautiful stranger.
You liked listening to your friends talk and laugh as if you weren’t all exhausted after the grueling work week.
You liked feeling like part of something.
Some nights, though, when Shayne and Spencer got tired of hugging the wall, and when you’d all realized how expensive it was to go out as often as you did, someone would offer their house as a respite from the outside world. It was a chance to avoid prying eyes and the same top 40 hits that seemed to play at every bar.
Now, you found yourself at Damien’s house; someone had dimmed the lights, and from your spot on the couch you could hear glasses clinking in the kitchen as Tommy poured various liquids into a makeshift mixer. Your friends held mugs of alcohol, pretending to be above the culture of red solo cups.
You watched Amanda and Angela play a card game you didn’t know on the coffee table in front of you.
“Your pile is huge—your pile is huge, oh my god!” Amanda’s voice carried over the other noises around you. You leaned against Angela’s shoulder.
“Because you’re playing wrong! You’re cheating! You’re literally cheating and it’s so uncool.” Angela tried to grab Amanda’s cards, and you smiled at their back and forth. You were admittedly distracted, but trying to play it cool, pretending your mind wasn’t elsewhere as Angela jostled your head.
You watched Damien out of the corner of your eye. He stood across the room, toying with one of his rings, nodding along to something Alex was saying.
You tried not to stare, but there was something so attractive about the way he looked in a space all his own; he didn’t command attention—Damien hated being the center of attention, especially when it was easily avoidable—but he had a way about him tonight that just seemed so relaxed, and it was hard to ignore. Especially when he was already taking up most of your thoughts as it was.
For as long as you’d worked with Damien, he was someone you looked forward to seeing. He wasn’t the only reason you got out of bed, but he was certainly up there on the list. Thoughtful, considerate; he was a generally good-natured person. He made the days go faster, making jokes and ensuring you felt included as a newer member of the cast.
And you liked his laugh, and the way he listened, and the soft color of his hazel eyes that looked somewhere close to green in the light.
It was no secret that you found him alluring, but you felt that it was better to keep those thoughts out of his orbit. If not for your sake, for his. It just seemed unfair to come onto him after you’d spent so much time together as friends, especially when he had given you no reason to think that he felt anything for you beyond camraderie.
You sat up from your position on Angela's shoulder, moving your head to get a better look at Damien. He noticed, shooting you a smile. You reciprocated it, offering a small wave, keeping your elbow low and fingers folded near your palm. He waved back, and you both quickly returned to your respective conversations.
Amanda and Angela had gone back to playing their game, light-hearted fighting words replaced by laughs as they smacked cards down.
There was a tap on your shoulder, and Courtney pulled you up from the couch.
“Come to the bathroom with me.” She set a cup of something that smelled strong on the table.
The rules of the bar still applied to house parties, and you had no problem tagging along on trips to the bathroom, sitting pretty while your friends fixed whatever makeup was still left of that morning’s full beat. You followed Courtney down the hallway and into the bathroom.
“You’re bright red, you know,” They wasted no time in grilling you, running the water and dabbing it under their eyes to wipe away streaks of mascara that had rubbed off.
“I had a Tommy special.” You sat on the edge of the bathtub.
“That’s not—you can handle your liquor.” Courtney turned, combing through their hair with her fingers, “You’re not blushing just because Tommy gave you one vodka cran.”
“It wasn’t a vodka cran. It was a vodka soda.” You could tell where the conversation was headed, and you tried to veer it off track.
“You’re not as slick as you think you are.” Courtney raised a brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He hasn’t even spoken to me tonight.” You contradicted yourself, markedly aware of what she was referring to and feeding into the topic, but disputing what you could.
“You’re oblivious.” Courtney laughed, fishing lip gloss from her pocket and turning back to the mirror.
“What do you mean?” You stood behind them, watching her reapply the color to their lips.
“Have you ever noticed,” Courtney popped her lips together, spreading the gloss, “That Damien only ever offers to host when he knows you’re going to come?” She turned to you again, leaning back, elbows on the sink. “Almost like he just wants an excuse to have you over.”
“He doesn’t do that. Damien is always offering to host. Doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” You retorted.
“Not true,” they shook their head, “On days that you're not around and we don’t feel like going to the bar, Tommy always hosts. Or Amanda. Or Ian.”
“Tommy has more alcohol at his place.” You ignored the rest of the list, still trying to change the subject.
“Dude,” Courtney was laughing now, “It’s like you don’t want to see it.”
“See what?” Your ears began to feel hot.
“That he likes you as much as you like him.” The words had a tone of finality. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Bec—are you serious? Why wouldn’t I be nervous? Why would I run the risk of ruining a perfectly good friendship? Or, you know, whatever it is—however you might describe what it is!” You started to ramble, digging yourself into a hole, “What happens if something happens and then—it could ruin work, Court. It could ruin everything!” You suddenly became aware that you were whisper-yelling. You cleared your throat, returning to a normal tone of voice. “It could ruin everything. That’s why people don’t fuck their coworkers.”
Courtney said nothing, just held up their hand and made a point of showing you the wedding band around their ring finger. She cleared her throat.
“That’s different.” You tried to backpedal.
“How?” Courtney looked amused, eager to hear your half-baked reasoning.
“Cause of course that worked out. Look at how Shayne looks at you. Look at how obvious of a pairing you two are.”
“Same way Damien looks at you.” Courtney smirked.
“You’re reading into this more than I am.” You shook your head at them. “He would’ve made a point to do something by now.”
“Are we…talking about the same Damien?” Courtney laughed, and you responded with a tight-lipped scowl. “In what world would he ever make a first move?”
“The ideal one. Where everything goes my way.” You scoffed, folding your arms.
“Right,” Courtney put a hand on your waist, and you looked at each other. “Approach this with more confidence, is all I’m saying. Give yourself—give him—the opportunity to make something happen.”
“Yeah,” you sighed, unfolding your arms and rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no, you’re right.” She gave you a cocky look, and you slapped their arm gently, “Don’t rub it in.”
“You’re hot,” Courtney rubbed her thumb over the exposed skin of your waist, “And sweet. You deserve the world. And I love the both of you more than words, but you act like you’ve never had a crush before.”
“Not like this.” You admitted, and they smiled.
“I know. But you have nothing to lose.” They looked around as if they were afraid someone might be listening from behind the shower curtain, “I have it on good authority that he feels just as strongly about this thing—” she gesticulated vaguely, “as you do.” She smiled, turning to open the door. You grabbed her by the arm.
“What did Shayne tell you—what did Damien tell Shayne?” You tried to pull them back as they turned the door handle, but she wiggled from your grasp.
“You didn’t hear it from me!” She called back to you, leaving you alone in the bathroom to ruminate on the conversation. 
~~~
It was still early when people started to trickle out. You knew when Shayne and Courtney left that the party was over.
“Do you guys need a ride?” You sidled up to Courtney where she stood in the foyer with Shayne, “I don’t mind driving you home. I’m sober. Stone cold.”
“Oh my god—Steve Austin, I love your work!” Spencer called over to you while he herded a cheerfully inebriated Tommy through the door. Shayne let out a quick, barking laugh.
“No, don’t worry about it. We’re ubering.” Courtney moved hair from your face, and you saw something dubious hidden in her smile. She leaned further into your space, lowering their voice, “And you’re not going anywhere.”
“What?” You made a face.
“Give yourself,” they pressed a finger to your chest, “an opportunity.”
You grasped her hand, squeezing her fingers. Shayne looked on, and if he knew what you were talking about, he kept it to himself.
“I’m leaving. I’ll be gone—out the door right after you.” You argued, and Courtney raised her eyebrows, waving you off before exiting. Shayne followed close behind her.
You didn’t leave right after them. As it turned out, you didn’t really want to leave at all.
You liked Damien’s house. It was spooky year-round, warm in both temperature and color palette, and his couch was cozy.
It wasn’t just the furniture; Damien’s presence was equally as, if not more, comforting. He walked around picking up whatever had been misplaced during the night, trying to find the right spot for it all. He hummed quietly to himself, shooing the cats away with his feet.
“I’m sorry for not helping,” you shifted on the couch, lying on your side.
“Don’t be sorry,” he smiled, “It’s fun to organize.”
“That is such a you thing to say, you know that?”
“What is?”
“That organizing is fun.”
“It is. Especially when I have company while I do it.” He looked pointedly at you. You held eye contact.
“You can tell me to leave. If you’re done for the night.”
“Why would I want you to leave?” He looked genuinely curious as to why you would think he’d want you gone.
“If you’re tired, or something. I get it.”
“No,” he shook his head, grabbing a cup that had been left half-full on a bookshelf, “I like having you around.”
“Can I get that as a written statement? Signed, dated…” You sat up a bit, positioning your head on the armrest of the sofa.
“Absolutely not. Nobody can ever know.” He laughed, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.
“Come sit with me.” You leaned over to pat a cushion before returning to your reclined position.
It could’ve just been the liquid courage you’d ingested, but you’d only had one drink. It was hardly enough to make you feel a buzz, let alone get you drunk. Maybe you were just thinking too much about what Courtney had said, about giving yourself a chance, finding an opening to let him in. Or maybe you were just really, really comfortable where you were spread out on the couch. For once, though, the confidence seemed to be your own doing.
Damien put down the cup in his hand and settled on the couch. You rested your feet on his thigh, and he placed a hand on your shin.
You’d always felt that any one-on-one time you got with him had a deadline, like you were on a time crunch based off of when the next video needed to be filmed or when your friends would join the conversation. It made the moments alone with him all the more enjoyable.
You liked being here, alone with him.
You liked it a lot.
“You wanna do something?” Damien leaned his head back on the couch, stretching his arms out beside him. You tried not to pay too much attention to the way the fabric of his t-shirt hugged his arms and the broad expanse of his chest.
“Like what?” You quirked a brow.
"Something low energy that makes us feel like we’re doing something…” He mulled over the possibilities, “Smash Bros?”
You nodded. “Wanna make it interesting?”
“I’m not putting money down.”
“Because you’re scared?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, “Scared you’ll lose. Wouldn’t wanna take a chunk out of your day rate.”
“You fucking wish,” you kicked at him gently. “I wasn’t thinking the gambling route.”
“So what were you thinking?”
“You ever played strip poker?”
Damien looked taken aback, and you regretted your proposal almost instantly. “Are you suggesting we play strip Smash?” He broke into a fit of laughter.
“We don’t—it was just a thought.” You tried to retract your suggestion.
“I didn’t say no.” He held your gaze, and you felt a tug in your stomach. “But if you get cold, tell me.”
“You say that like I’m going to lose.”
“Oh, is that what that sounded like?” He tossed you a controller, “Good. Cause that’s what I meant.”
You kicked at him again.
You lost your socks first. Then your shirt. You didn’t know whether or not to thank or chastise yourself for remembering to wear a bra. Your pants quickly followed, and though it was far from a matching set, you were relieved that your undergarments were at least presentable.
You were acutely aware of your own body now; the rise and fall of your chest and the way you moved your legs when you got caught up in the game. You didn’t notice Damien: how he bit the inside of his cheek so hard when you took off your shirt that he flinched; how he nearly lost his grip on the controller when your jeans came off; how he kept shifting in his seat.
You especially didn’t notice the way he looked at you. His eyes flicked over your face with a combination of pride and adoration, and they darkened significantly when his gaze dropped below your collar and took in your half-naked form.
“How far are you gonna take this?” Damien was grinning, his voice the only other sound against the backdrop of in-game blasts and the click of thumbs on controllers.
“Down to my skin.” You shot him a glance and he cleared his throat.
“Won’t be long, then.”
“Yeah?” You bumped your shoulder against his lightly.
“You’re oh-for-three.” He pointed out, and you pushed against him again, harder this time, in an attempt to throw him off his rhythm.
“Let me choose a different character.” You tried to reach for his hands to grab at the controller. He held it up and away from his body.
“I don’t think the character is the problem,” he laughed, face lighting up at the way you sneered in frustration. “I’m not pausing just so you can be Kirby.”
“Who said I wanted to be Kirby?” You chastised him.
“Did you want to be Kirby?” He looked smug when he turned to face you, his hands still out of reach. You realized how close you’d gotten to him over the course of your teasing exchange, and suddenly recognized that the opportunity Courtney had been alluding to was right in front of you.
You moved to straddle his waist, legs framing his body and tits inches from his face as you stretched out to grab his hands, removing the controller from his grasp. You tossed it to the side and Damien was frozen as you shifted to look behind you at the screen, your victory now swift thanks to the lack of any opponent.
You turned back to him with a smile. “Did you want to be Kirby,” you imitated him, echoing his taunt. “Lose the shirt, Dames.”
Damien looked up at you, frozen. The tension was almost visible, like fogged glass, and you had no idea how to clear the air. You were nearly certain that you had made a terrible mistake, that everything about tonight was about to go wrong.
You were unable to make eye contact with him—afraid that by looking at him you would completely fall apart and lose the edge you’d only just found. Throughout your mental battle with yourself, Damien still hadn't moved, his gaze fixed on your face.
You tried to make your fear dissipate by breaking the silence.
“What?” You laughed, a little awkwardly.
Damien swallowed. “I...sorry,” His eyes were wide as he spoke, “I just got…very nervous and—and really turned on.”
Oh.
He let out a small, huffed laugh, smiling up at you in a moment of awe. He blinked hard a few times before moving his arm to rest behind his head.
“That…that makes two of us, then,” you stayed where you were, placing your hands on your thighs. You licked your lips, exhaling, before finding the nerve to continue. “You still have to take your shirt off, though. You lost. Rules are rules.”
“Didn't you get to take your socks off first?” He narrowed his eyes playfully.
“You can take them off," your words were coy. "You want me to move?”
“I never said that.” He shook his head, leaning forward just enough to grant him the space to remove his t-shirt. He tossed it to the side, and you felt your whole body flood with nerves and anticipation when he leaned back against the couch on full display for you.
“Are you cold?” Damien brought his hand up to cup your elbow, and it was only then that you became aware of the goosebumps that had broken out over your flesh.
“No…No. Just…” You swallowed, moving slightly on his lap. “Just nervous.”
He let out a small laugh. “Do you—I mean…” He was entranced, unable to remove his eyes from your face for the fear that if he looked at any more of you, you’d be able to feel his reaction. You reached out to trace a hand over his chest, admiring him and letting the heat of his skin warm your palm. “Would you mind if…” He bit his lip, closing his eyes while your fingers grazed his flesh. He took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”
You stopped your hand, letting it linger on the center of his chest, just above his stomach. Damien gingerly placed a hand on your waist, and for just a moment you wondered if he could feel the desperation seeping through your skin.
“Yeah. Yeah, you can kiss me.” you nodded, maybe a little overzealous, “Please.”
You leaned forward into him. You could feel the weight of his hand on your body and the thrum of your own heartbeat in your chest as it threatened to break through your ribcage. You watched him suck in a sharp, deep breath before his other hand cupped your face. You closed your eyes, letting him guide you into the kiss.
It was tender. You moved slowly, in tandem with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself settle into him as you got lost in the way his mouth felt on yours. You let your lips part, making space for his tongue to dip between them and explore you further. You let out a quiet moan when he licked into you, and you let your own tongue delve beyond his lips to take a taste of what you’d been craving so urgently. His grip on your waist tightened in response to your sounds, and you took it upon yourself to test the waters, rolling your hips against him. You were rewarded with the feeling of his stiffening cock between your legs, and a gruff sound that caught in his throat. His hand moved from your face to the back of your head, applying light pressure to keep you steady as the kiss became hungrier, and he bit at your bottom lip.
When you parted, both of you pausing to catch your breath, he looked up at you, quietly chuckling to himself.
“What?” You let your hands wander over his shoulders, “Was it that bad?”
“What? No—god, no. No, I’ve just…I’ve always wanted to do that.” Damien smiled, moving his thumb in a soothing pattern over your hip, “I’ve always wanted to do that…” He trailed off, raking his eyes over you and letting both hands move up and down your sides.
“Really?” You posed the question with your eyes closed, lost in his touch. You let yourself fall forward on his chest.
“Really.” He sighed dreamily, “I can’t begin to explain to you how much space you take up in my head. The real thing is a lot better than the imaginary version.” 
“But you can do whatever you want in your imagination.” You pointed out, pressed against him and tracing lines over his collar with one finger.
“Yeah. Sure. But nothing I think up could ever beat this.” His fingers grazed the clasp of your bra, “And, full transparency, I’ve thought up a lot.”
You laughed, pushing yourself up with both hands on his chest to really look at him; his hair was messy, and his cheeks were flushed pink.
He looked flawless. You felt flawless.
“Damien,” your tone was saccharine, still tinged with a shy edge but steadily coming into your own with help from Damien’s clear reciprocation of your feelings, “Do you wanna show me all the thoughts you’ve had?” You watched his face go stern at your words, still hinting his amusement with a small, nearly hidden smile. “Do you wanna act on them?”
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him; somehow the feeling of your tits pressed against his bare chest was almost more intimate than the kiss you’d just shared. You squealed, tossing your head back, which he took as an opportunity to leave dainty kisses on your throat, muttering against your skin.
“I don’t think you’ve ever seen my room.” His voice was gravelly, parched from the kisses he left on your skin as he picked you up. You gasped, suddenly off the ground and in his arms as he carried you down the hall; one of his hands trailed down your body, and you felt his fingers dig into the flesh of your upper thigh to keep his hold on you. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, letting him overwhelm your senses.
You got lost momentarily, like time had paused or sped up or stopped completely, but then you were in his room. The lights were dim, just as they were in the rest of the house, and the shelves stacked with various tchotchkes and books that you were too distracted to care about in the moment.
You realized that a person could look like their home, in a way, and you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when you had found yourself so attracted to how Damien carried himself in his own space. It’s because the space was just as welcoming, just as comforting and soothing as he was.
He let his grip on you loosen, and you landed on his bed, hands still wrapped around him and tentative of letting go. But you didn’t have to; he lay next to you, rolling onto his side and pulling you against him in a swift maneuver that placed you comfortably on his chest.
He didn’t kiss you, maybe out of anxiety that he was moving too fast for your taste, or just because he felt the moment didn’t call for it, but he brushed his nose against yours and let his hands linger on your waist.
“Is this what you thought about?” You whispered, letting him continue his quiet ministrations, “Taking me to bed and touching me like this?”
“And so much more,” he breathed, hands moving up your back, trying to commit your entire body to memory. “I hope you—I didn’t mean for it to come off like I’ve only ever thought about fucking you.”
You moved to rub your thumb over his cheek. “What did you mean?”
“That I don’t want you to be my friend,” he smiled, and your heart dropped for a second before he continued, “That I think about you all the time in ways that friends don’t think about each other. And I…” He searched for the right words, “Even after a night like this, even after, you know, seeing everybody and having everybody over—even when a place is full of people, and noise…You’re still the only person I can pay attention to. Or think about.”
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and he pulled away from you to meet your gaze.
“Does that sound really stupid?”
“No,” you reassured him, pulling him back towards you, “No, it’s…you put it into words, Damien.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I get it. I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe what you mean to me, and you just,” you laughed again, trying to collect yourself, “You did the work for me.” You smiled, tilting your head back with your chest still pressed against him, making sure he paid attention to what you were saying. “I love you.”
You watched his face change, something in his eyes and the curl of his lips looked different in a way you couldn’t pinpoint. You couldn’t look for long, because he was on you again in a flash, arms wrapping around you, engulfing you with his body and tugging you into him. His lips crashed against yours, and it was hungry, and messy, and passionate, so much so that you couldn’t be bothered to care about the clack of teeth or the small bead of spit that fell from the corner of your lip.
“I love you,” Damien’s voice sounded tight, higher than it had been all night, “I love you.” He freely explored your body now, big hands reaching over your ass and offering soft squeezes before grazing your sides and the swell of your breasts.
“You know how,” you managed to get a few words in between heated kisses, “you said you didn’t want it to come off as if you only wanted to fuck me?” You let out a small moan when he licked a stripe up your neck and to your earlobe, mumbling quiet curses to yourself at the feel of his tongue on your body.
“Mhm,” Damien acknowledged your words without breaking away from you, still nipping at your neck while you let your breathing mellow so that you could continue speaking.
“Want you to fuck me,” you put a hand in his hair, forming a fist in the silver strands and pulling him up to make eye contact. “Damien, I want you to fuck me.”
He looked almost surprised, like he had forgotten physical intimacy beyond kissing you was even an option. The look of mild shock was replaced with clear enthusiasm as he moved to get off of the bed. “I’d hate to make you ask twice.”
He shed his jeans, and you realized this was more of him than you had ever seen before; standing next to you was the man that took up all your thoughts, ready and willing to give you what you wanted, his eyes like pools of reverence as they trailed over your form.
You couldn’t help but feel excited, uncaring if you came off as desperate. You sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, situating yourself on your knees. Your hands found purchase on his chest and slowly moved down his stomach until you reached the waistband of his boxers.
“Eager,” he let your hands wander, watching on as you explored. You paused, looking up at him to wordlessly ask if you were allowed to go further. “Don’t be shy, baby,” something about his tone had changed, and the cheerful voice you’d come to know and love was replaced with a deeper, rasping sound that you thought you might like even more. “You can touch. Take what you need.”
The words reached your core before they fully hit your ears, and you shifted on your knees, pressing your thighs together to give yourself some relief. Sliding your hand under his waistband, you were met with the solid, smooth skin of his cock. He helped you pull his boxers down and over his length, letting it spring free, and you felt your mouth water.
He was big, thick, and while not surprising in the slightest, you couldn’t help but whine at the sight before you. You looked up at him, your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb brushing the reddened tip; you expected him to look smug, proud of himself, maybe, but he looked dumbstruck, in awe of the way your hand looked wrapped around him—in awe of the fact that it was you.
“Damien,” you prompted, and it broke him out of his haze. He nodded. “Can I…”
“Please,” he took a deep breath, “God, yes, please.”
You smiled. “Well, I’d hate to make you ask twice.” He laughed at your mimicry before quickly silencing himself with a shaky moan when you licked an experimental stripe up the bottom of his cock. He tilted his head to the side, unable to decide whether to get lost in the pleasure or to enjoy the view he had of you, bent over yourself on your knees and using your mouth in a way he’d only ever dreamed of.
You spit in your hand, gliding it over him and appreciating the way he felt in your hands; the warmth, the pliant weight. You made sure he was looking when you finally took his tip in your mouth, circling your tongue over him. You moved your hand in sync with the way you bobbed your head. He groaned, hand flying to rake his fingers through your hair, and the way he sighed out your name spurred you on more.
His other hand caressed your back, tugging cautiously at the straps of your bra.
“Take it off,” you pumped him in your hand, letting your tongue flick out to deliver barely-there licks to the tip of his cock. “Take it off for me.”
“Fuck.” He huffed, hypnotized by the way you used your mouth on him. He undid the clasp with one hand, and you let the straps hang off your body. You didn’t want to pause your movements, didn’t even want to slow down at the risk of having to go for even a second without hearing him moan your name; you shook the constricting material from yourself, taking him deeper in your mouth until tears pricked your eyes so that you could slip your bra off your arms. Damien let out a low groan, tightening the grip he still had on your hair. 
You took him deeper still, hand working what you couldn’t fit down your throat. When you gagged on him, he let out an absolutely filthy sound.
“You like that?” He was smiling with his mouth open, chest heaving with every breath, “You like choking on me?” You answered with a garbled “yes,” his cock still pressed against the back of your throat, one hand on his hip to keep yourself stable as your other hand stroked the base of him. He moaned. “You look so pretty. Always knew you’d look so good with my cock down your throat, baby.”
You couldn’t help the noise that you let out, something between a gasp and a moan that sent vibrations up Damien’s spine. You continued to move up and down over his cock before removing your mouth from him, spit dripping down your chin and a dopey smile on your lips.
Damien grabbed your face in one hand, fingers pressing hard against your cheeks as he pulled you up to his level. “You really are just so fucking perfect.” He kissed you, letting the drool that coated your chin drip onto his face. “Can I taste you? Can I taste how sweet you are?”
You nodded, the hand he still had on your face moving with you.
“Yeah? Say it.” He demanded, and you whimpered, enjoying the look of dominance on him.
“Want you to taste me, Damien.” When you spoke, his fingers pressed the inside of your cheeks against your teeth. “Want you to taste how sweet I am.”
He growled, moving his jaw in a circle as if to stretch the muscles in preparation for what he planned on doing to you. “How do you ask nicely?”
You felt an adrenaline rush deep in your stomach. It was one thing to be here with your pleasure in his hands, but to hear Damien say the things you’d fantasized about for so long made your head swim.
“Please…” One of your hands grabbed impatiently at his arm, “Please, Damien…want…want you to fuck me with your tongue. Please.”
He kissed you again, smiling against your mouth and removing his hand from your face to push softly against your chest so that you fell back onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress, holding your calves and pulling your legs open. You sank into the pillows at the head of the bed, letting them cradle and support you at an angle that allowed you to look down at Damien, whose face hovered over your core. His fingers danced over the waistband of your panties, and you wondered if he had felt the same tingly sensation when you toyed with his boxers as you did right now with his hands running over your hips and stomach.
He pressed his face against your clothed cunt, impatient and greedy for you. You moaned, one hand fisting the sheets under you while the other came to rest on your thigh, holding your legs open for him when your muscles threatened to snap them closed following the sudden contact.
“Fuck, Damien, that feels—that’s so good.” You squirmed under him as he licked over your panties, tongue brushing your clit through the fabric. You tried to push the material down, wiggling your hips to ease your panties off your body, but Damien caught your hands in his.
“Let me play, baby.” His doe eyes stared up at you from between your legs with a devious glint. You didn't listen, and instead continued to move your hips in an attempt to wriggle out of the fabric that kept his mouth from making direct contact with you. He pressed down on your hips, forcing you to cease your fidgeting. “Be patient.”
He licked a stripe from where your panties threatened to reveal your hole and up to your clit, and you arched your back in an attempt to encourage him further.
“God, Damien, please!” You pleaded, begging for him to touch you without the obstacle of the fabric that remained on your body. “Want it—said you wanted to taste me, you can taste me—you can taste me, I need it. Please, let me feel your tongue, please—”
Damien snapped your waistband and you yelped, effectively ending your rambling.
“You’re pretty when you beg," he kissed your stomach, and you let out a whimper. "But if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll fuck it.” Damien’s words weren’t harsh, you could hear the joviality buried under the severity in his voice, and somehow that made it even sexier.
Your arousal was heightened when, as you moaned at his words, you felt two thick fingers plunge into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, and you choked out his name.
“Oh my god!” You cried out, looking down to see that he had moved your panties to the side to give himself access to your entrance. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling to hit your more delicate spots, and the sound was utterly indecent.
“You’re soaked,” Damien was smiling with his top teeth, watching his fingers as they disappeared inside of you. “What got you so wet, baby?”
“Because…s’cause…” You didn’t have the energy to talk, too focused on the way his fingers pushed against the walls of your cunt, forcing your body to make space for him.
“Because why?” He goaded, thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he pushed his fingers deeper, “Because you like the way I touch you? Hm? Because you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have? For as long as I have?”
You nodded, mouth agape and eyes threatening to roll back; maybe you looked pathetic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, completely content with his fingers thrusting into you.
“Aw, come on. If you still want my mouth, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” He removed his fingers from inside of you, using the slick that coated them as lubricant to massage your clit.
“Wanted this for so long—so fucking long, Damien.” Your words came out rushed and breathy, “Thought about you like this all the time. Thought about—about you when I came, every time I came.” You couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the truth, the words tumbled from your lips as easily as taking a breath.
Your admission made him pause his movements, and for a moment the dominance in his face faded into something more tender. But he gathered himself, finally pulling off your panties in one fell swoop, then taking one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder while you continued to babble to him.
“Keep talking, princess,” the nickname made you dizzy with desire, and you whined out for him, your eyes wide and watery when his breath fanned over your now bare, slick coated center. “Keep talking. Tell me all about it while I taste you.”
The first swipe of his tongue against your clit sent shockwaves through you, and you whimpered before recollecting your train of thought.
“Th—oh!” You quickly lost your words again when Damien began to ease his tongue into your entrance, toying with your hole before plunging into you with a purpose. He squeezed your thigh, and you took it as encouragement to continue. “Thought about this all the time—about your mouth against me. Using your mouth on me until my legs got sore from the way you’d hold me open.” He groaned against your cunt, and you extended a hand to comb your fingers through his hair. “Thought about all the ways you could use me. All the ways I would let you use me—fuck, like that, please!”
He had his face buried in you, your slick dripping down his chin and his nose pressed against your clit. You could feel the movement of his tongue inside of you, and you tugged on his hair as the sensation spread over your body.
“Thought about getting on my knees for you. I would let you have me whenever you wanted—wherever you wanted.”
Damien growled. “Yeah?” His brow quirked and he looked up at you momentarily before diving back into your heat, “Have to take you up on that.”
You whimpered, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen tensing from the onslaught of pleasure, and the feeling let you know that you were approaching your peak.
“Knew you would make me feel so amazing, Damien, knew you’d make me cum like nobody else ever could.” You were stringing words together faster than your brain could think them up. But even if they came out jumbled, every last word was true.
“Want you to cum on my mouth,” Damien was grinding his hips against the mattress, the relief he got from the fabric of the sheets dulled his intense arousal only momentarily, but he chased the feeling. “Please, baby, give it to me.”
You pulled his hair, admittedly harder than you had intended, but with the moan he let out, it seemed he didn’t mind. His tongue worked wonders as he extended it over and into you. Right when you thought you were already done for, limbs going slack and the pleasant tingle in your core reaching a fever pitch, Damien wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, letting his tongue flick against the sensitive bud.
It felt good to scream out for him, to let his name fall repeatedly from your lips as you yanked on his hair, but it felt better to hear his voice and the words that rang out from between your legs.
“Beautiful,” he was mumbling, still licking into you, trying to savor the tangy flavor of your cum. “So fucking beautiful, baby. Look at the pretty fucking mess you made. Did such a good job.”
You tugged again on his hair and he let you guide him up to face level. When he leaned in to kiss you, you opened your mouth instantly, and he slid his tongue between your lips. You sucked on it happily, eager to taste yourself on him, eager to experience everything you'd always imagined being able to do with him.
In turn, he held you close, so you wouldn’t slip away like you did when he woke up from his dreams.
You let the kiss linger, leisurely grasping at each other and appreciating the newfound lack of constraint. You curled yourself into him, lying on your side and tangling your legs with his in an effort to get as close to him as you could.
“You look so pretty when you cum,” Damien mumbled, lips grazing your pulse point, dipping down and sucking faint bruises onto your collar. “I want to see it again.”
“You can see it whenever you want,” you closed your eyes, relishing the gentle pressure he was putting on your skin so that the marks would form in small spots across your chest. You cupped his cheek in your hand, and he reluctantly stopped licking the bruises that had begun to pop up. Your thumb stroked the skin under his eye. “I want you to see it again now.”
Damien leaned into you, trailing kisses over your jaw. “You want me to fuck you?” He licked a stripe up your neck and over your chin. When his tongue reached your mouth, you opened for him, letting him lick between your lips, kissing him fervidly and moaning softly. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? Want me to fuck you even though I just made you cum?" He growled into your mouth. "You need more already?"
“Yeah,” you smiled shyly, rubbing your face against the stubble on his cheek.
“Needy thing.” He removed his hands from you, then snaked his arms through the gap in your bodies and put his hands on your shoulders, pushing you against the mattress and onto your back.
He straddled your legs, keeping you immobile on the bed and kissing down your chest. He nipped at the plush flesh of your breasts, unable to contain himself, unable to hide the obvious pleasure he took in seeing you this way.
“Damien—” You sighed when he circled his tongue around one of your nipples, your fingers wrapping around his bicep.
“I know. I know. Sorry, I just—God, you’re beautiful.” He smiled, more to himself than to you, but the joy on his face was palpable, and you were sure he could detect the pride you felt at being the one to make him feel this way.
He used his knee to spread your legs, opening you up for him, moving his own legs to situate himself between your thighs. One of his hands ran up and down your leg as he stroked himself, lining his cock up with your entrance. When the tip of him rubbed between your folds, you whimpered, moving your hands down his arm and squeezing his forearm.
“Is this what you want?” Damien was looking down, examining how perfectly his body meshed with yours. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah,” your words were barely above a whisper, “Want you to fuck me.”
He moved his hand further up your body and squeezed your hip. “Where are your manners, princess?” He smirked, “Say please.”
“Please, Damien,” you stared up at him wide-eyed, captivated. “Please.”
“There you go.” He squeezed your hip again in recognition of your obedience. Slowly, as if he was worried he’d break you, he pushed into you, watching your eager, waiting cunt swallow every inch he offered you. You moaned, squeezing his arm and leaving small, curved marks where your nails dug into his skin. You watched his eyelids flutter, head tilting back with his mouth ajar, letting out a deep groan as he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again to meet your heavy-lidded gaze.
“Big.” It was all you said, stretched and full of him in a way nobody had ever filled you up before.
Damien swallowed a laugh, flashing a domineering smile. “Big?”
“Too big.” You clarified, not entirely meaning it; you were thrilled to be this packed with him, but it had been so long since you’d felt a satisfying sting like this that it would take you a moment to get accustomed to it.
“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He pressed his palm over your stomach, brushing his thumb across your skin soothingly. “You tell me if it’s too much, ok? Use your words, say it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”
“Don’t want you to stop.” Your voice came out strong momentarily, so eager for him that the possibility of him leaving you empty made you tense. “Waited so long…” You said, mellowing slightly, “Want you. Want you to…to use me.”
Damien made a throaty noise, something between a laugh and a moan that both relaxed and lit a fire inside you. Unhurried, he pulled out of you, his hands on your hips to give himself proper leverage. You exhaled slowly, mind set adrift by the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls; his rounded tip, every vein that ran up his length—you were certain you could feel it all.
You whimpered when he had pulled out enough so that nothing but the head of his cock penetrated you. You swayed your hips, trying to spur him on, but even with just the tip you felt you had ample stimulation.
He didn’t stop you, just watched on as you tried to fuck yourself with the tip of his cock just barely inside of you.
“You need some help?” He raised an eyebrow at.
“Please—fuck me, please.” You nodded excitedly, aching for him.
He smiled, eyes fixed on your face as he rammed back into you, watching your mouth contort and your tits bounce as your body absorbed the force. You screamed out for him, arching your back, which gave him the ability to push the remainder of his cock as far into you as he could.
“Fuck Damien! So—feel…so full!” You felt a tear fall over your cheek, overwhelmed by the bliss of having his cock buried inside of you and the rough way in which he made it happen. He leaned over you, supporting himself on his forearms as he caged you between them, and met you at face level. He thrust in and out of you shallowly, bringing his lips to your cheek and kissing the path of the delighted tears you had shed.
“Yeah? Feel full?” He whispered, still moving his hips, his cheek pressed against yours so he could speak directly into your ear.
“Yes, Damien—God, yes!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to immerse yourself in all of him. You searched for any part of him that you could reach with your mouth, planting sloppy kisses on his collar, his shoulder, the crook of his neck.
“Good.” He kissed your cheek again, before licking the wet, salty trail that your tears had left behind. “Want you to feel me for days after this.” He found your lips and kissed you, the pace and intensity of his thrusts increasing. “And when you can finally walk straight, I’m gonna do it to you all over again.”
You scraped your nails up his back, moaning for him and desperate to have him follow through on his threat. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel the tug of his stubble on your skin as he panted against you, fucking into you aggressively in a way you’d always dreamed he would.
Each thrust felt deeper, and there came a point where you felt a pleasant pain in your side as his cock brushed your cervix.
“Damien—Christ, you’re so fucking deep,” Your nails jabbed harder into the skin of his back and he let out a hiss. “Please, like that. Just like that, don’t stop. B-bruise me, please, please!”
“I won’t stop, princess,” Damien’s words were snarled, gruff in your ear as his lips grazed just below your earlobe. “I promise. Wanna leave this pretty pussy so nice and sore.” He sucked a mark under your jawline, "Wanna ruin you."
You moved one hand, fingers lacing through his silver hair and yanking at the brown roots to pull him from his spot in the crook of your neck. He took the hint, rising up to meet you, his mouth finding yours and biting at your bottom lip.
“I love you,” you couldn’t bite back the words, not even if you tried; not when his cock was hitting spots you didn’t even know were there, not when he was using all his upper body strength to stay above you just so he could gaze down upon your tear-streaked, fucked out face, not when it was something you’d been dying to tell him in this capacity for as long as you could remember. “I love you, Damien—I love you.”
“I love you,” he echoed your words, voice softening and face relaxing. “I love you so much. I do, I love you so much.”
You raised your hips to meet his thrusts, and Damien moaned out your name, muscle in his jaw tensing before he let his mouth fall slack. He paused momentarily, sitting up while still buried inside you, to take your legs in his hands and press your knees back to your chest. You were bent in half, completely at his mercy and loving it. You yelped, the new angle giving him the ability to drive harder and deeper into you; the control he had over your body made your head swim and your cunt squeeze around him. He leaned over you, smiling through the pleasure that clouded his mind to jeer at you affectionately as he continued to escalate the manner in which he fucked you.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He watched you, your head lolling to the side and practically drooling as you looked back up at him, pitiful moans and gibberish the only way you could communicate. “Lose your voice?”
You swallowed hard, gasping for air and overcome with the feeling of him. You searched for the right words.
“Make me—oh!—feel so good,” you panted, “so fucking good.”
“Who makes you feel so good?” Damien pressed, plunging his cock as deep as he could, his hips firm against the back of your thighs.
“You do!” You felt all of him, and still, somehow, you craved more. “You do—you, you!”
“Yeah? Say it princess. Say Damien you make me feel so good.” He grabbed your chin, forcing you to stare up at him with your lust-blown eyes. “Say it.”
“Da—Damien,” you whimpered as he fucked you in quick bursts while waiting for you to speak. “Damien, you—you make m-me feel so good.”
He pressed his lips to yours, further enhancing the way your body was already contorted, and you moaned into his mouth at the feeling of being used like a toy by him.
“That’s right,” Damien licked into your mouth, “You make me feel so good, princess.”
He pulled back from your face, straightening once more; he grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, gripping your thighs close to his body and using them to pull you onto his cock. The sounds you made were high pitched and pathetic, eyes rolling back while he placed kisses on your calves where they were slung over his shoulders; he nipped at you, teeth just barely grazing the flesh of your legs as his lips did a bulk of the work. The tickle of his five o’clock shadow was a welcome match to the gentle pressure you felt in your abdomen brought on by the way his cock stretched you.
He wrapped one arm around your legs, leaving you powerless to his movements as your head pushed back into the pillows from the sheer delight of feeling him inside of you, heightened by the depth and momentum with which he fucked you. He let his other hand drop to hold your hips, thumb caressing your skin with unidentifiable shapes.
You couldn’t remember getting fucked like this before—if you ever even had been fucked like this before. Somehow Damien knew you inside and out better than anybody else did, maybe even better than you knew yourself. This was proven by the way he drove his hips into you, hauling you over his cock and making you feel the delicious drag of his length in a way that made you feel full to the point of near discomfort. The electrified jolts of satisfaction when the tip of his cock pressed up against your more delicate, hidden spots, were eased by the soft way he touched you. The feeling wasn’t confined to your walls; his fingers brushed your clit, the ghost of a touch sending shockwaves through your system. You wriggled your body, unable to contain yourself and responding physically to the way his digits teased you while he ruined you with his cock.
He was rough, wild, and everything you needed. When you looked up at him, you could still see the kindness in his features, hear the compassion with which he moaned your name, feel the romantic way he squeezed at your body even while he was fucking you stupid. His groaned words of praise, of affirmation, when he managed to gasp your name between panting thrusts brought you to the edge just as much as his physical prowess did, and you let it be known how you were feeling.
“Damien—” You reached out, grasping at his arm where it wrapped around your legs, his other hand kneading your clit in slow circles. You felt your cunt tighten around him, walls fluttering in preparation for your oncoming orgasm, hips bucking on their own accord as you chased the ecstasy he brought you.
“Give me another, princess,” he grunted, pounding into you, his fingers deftly tracing over your clit. “Doing so good, give me one more.”
You turned your face to the side and buried it into the pillow under you, biting into the cloth to silence your increasingly loud screams. He reached down to grab your face, once again pushing your knees to your chest and earning a loud gasp of his name as you wiggled your hips against him, relishing the feel of his cock throbbing deep inside of you.
“Show me that pretty face,” he cooed, sweat lining his temples from exertion, “Let me hear those pretty sounds.” He pressed hard against your clit, and your body responded explosively; you screamed for him, reaching for his shoulders to pull him to your chest and kiss him as a warm feeling spread from your center and out to your limbs. You could feel it in your chest, the fulfillment traveling over every inch of your body, muscles responding in kind with small twitches as your cunt squeezed him tight.
Your legs squirmed free from underneath him, and you wrapped them around his waist, keeping him close to you while you rode out your high, circling your hips over his cock. He moaned into your mouth, the kiss devolving into a messy exchange of spit and sweat and teeth, lips chapped and swollen with passion. You bit his lip and he growled, leisurely swaying his hips and punctuating his thrusts with eager whines.
“Where,” he was breathing heavily, once again finding solace in the crook of your neck. “Where do you want it, baby. Tell me. Please.” He was practically whimpering, begging you for permission to finish by communicating where it was you wanted his cum.
“Inside,” you moaned, the aftershocks of your orgasm lulling you into a sleepy heap of oversensitivity and devotion.
Damien growled as he took in your request. “You’re—fucking christ, you’re sure?”
“Please,” it was all you could say, desperate to feel the culmination of his pleasure inside of you. “Pill. Need it, Damien. Cum inside me. Let me feel it, please.”
Damien groaned at your words, brow knit and mouth open. He sped up his pace, pushing himself up from you and supporting himself on his hands. You whined, content and aching for him.
“Fuck, I'm gonna fill this pussy up so deep.” Damien squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before opening them and looking down at you, “Fuck—gonna cum, baby, I'm—fuck!” His hips stuttered, and you wrapped your legs around him tighter, keeping him secure against you. He dropped down onto you, still providing shallow thrusts, though much gentler than before. “I love you,” he whispered, lips pressing against your neck as he engulfed you with his own body, cock spent and twitching inside of you, “I love you.”
“I love you,” you repeated quietly, and when he kissed you, you could feel that he meant it; the words echoed in your mind as he eased his lips against yours, taking time now to really savor the way you moved against him and enjoy how perfectly you fit together.
You focused on catching your breath, and he removed himself from atop you as he collected himself. When he slipped his cock from you, you whimpered at the new emptiness, and he kissed your temple.
You both stayed there, lying in bed together while you came down from the high-energy tryst. You still couldn't remove yourselves from each other completely, limbs tangling together and hands gliding over sweaty skin as you appreciated the tranquility together.
“Do you want water?” He asked, nose rubbing against your cheek.
“Yeah,” you gulped a breath, “Yeah. Thanks.”
He got up on shaky legs and found a pair of sweatpants, walking to the kitchen only to return seconds later with a glass of water. His face was radiant and his cheeks dusted pink as he beamed at you.
“Thank you, baby,” you guzzled the cool liquid, mouth dry from the way he'd made you scream.
“Say—” Damien looked down at you, giddy, “Will you say it again?”
You smiled, tired eyes taking in his form. “Thank you, baby.”
He sat down next to you. The mattress shifted with his weight, and you inched yourself towards him.
“I like hearing you say it.” He seemed timid, like after all that had happened, he was still worried you’d reject him.
“I like saying it,” you nuzzled your face into his stomach, resting on his thigh. His hand came down to pet your hair, thumb occasionally brushing over your temple.
“Will you stay here tonight?” He asked, “Only if you want to, I mean—but, I’d like it if you did.” He laughed to himself, “And then, you know…if you wanted to stay every night—I’d like that, too.”
“Well, good, cause the U-Haul is on its way over.” You turned your head to look up at him from your spot on his leg.
“Wow, those guys work fast,” he smirked down at you. “And then, when you, uh—when you finish moving in…could I take you out on a real date?” His face looked so gentle, “You know, away from everybody we know. Just…just us?”
“I would like that.” You smiled, turning to place a kiss on his stomach. He examined your face, still stroking your hair.
“I’m sorry if anything I said was…if you think I was moving too fast—or if I said something you want to pretend I didn’t say yet. Or at all.” He winced, nervous.
“Damien,” you sat up, shuffling to kneel in front of him and cupping his cheek, “I love you. I don’t want to pretend you never said it.” You placed a kiss on his nose, and he tackled you back onto the mattress, kissing your face.
“Thank god,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “Because I don’t think I could ever take it back.”  
“You’ve said it before,” you laughed when his head dipped under your chin to suck new marks onto your neck to match the ones that he had made prior.
“I know,” he mumbled against your skin, “But it’s—this is different. I mean it…different…” He smiled, sharp teeth on display, and you laughed again, enamored.
“Good,” you played with the hair that curled against the back of his neck, “I mean it different, too.”
Damien pulled you against his chest and rolled over, leaving you to straddle his waist and rest your head on his shoulder.
“I love you,” he sighed happily.
“I love you, too.” You left kisses on his collar bone before pressing your face against his neck.
~~~
You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you awoke the next morning you momentarily feared that it had all been a dream; that you were back in your own bed, alone, hungover and suffering from the memories of some distant fantasy.
But you were still with Damien. His arm draped over your waist and his face pressed between your shoulder blades as he snored quietly.
You could get used to this.
You leaned back against him, eager to tell him that you loved him when he woke up.
The sun was just barely up, and the minuscule amount of light that made its way through the window illuminated tiny bits of dust that passed through the rays. Zelda had made her way into the room at some point in the night, and her soft purring sent tiny vibrations over the blanket, her body nestled into the curve of Damien’s knee behind you.
You stretched, aimlessly reaching out and inevitably grabbing hold of your phone. You dimmed the brightness, scrolling through notifications you had missed the night before; tagged pictures, drunken Instagram stories, a few Venmo requests and a few more Venmo payments.
Courtney had texted you only about 20 minutes before you had woken up.
Court: How was the rest of your night 👀
Court: Does Shayne owe me $10
Court: Or did you end up going home
You let out a silent laugh, rolling your eyes a little at the betting pool that seemed to have erupted over your love life. You twisted in bed, opening your camera and zooming in on Zelda where she sat comfortably against Damien’s knee, the backdrop of his bedroom on full display. You took a picture and sent it to Courtney with no explanation, amused by your own vague confirmation that you had spent the night with Damien—and planned to do it again. Often.
You put your phone down and it started to buzz on the nightstand, lighting up with Courtney's contact picture. You considered picking it up, but then Damien’s arm tightened around you, pulling you to him while his hand spread out over your ribcage just under your breast. He kissed your back, still half-asleep, before he resumed snoring.
You decided that you would talk to Courtney later, turning over to bury your face in Damien’s chest, letting his breathing lull you back to sleep.
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pasdasin · 2 months
Text
Wicked Game
wolverine x vampire!reader
an: omgg I am so happy yall like this! thank you for almost 100 notes!! If you want to be added to my tag list pls comment and ill do my best!! Remember Logan beefs with Alex Summers not Scott bc Scott is my son (dofp casting)
ch 2
warnings: mentions of blood, needles, generic doctor stuff, cussing i think, angst, poor reader :(
previous -- next
~~~~~
The next day you were sitting the in teachers break room, listening to Hank and Charles debate on what to do for the annual end of year movie night. Both options sounded boring, a basic slasher and some movie about a train. You turned to your right to look at your other close friend, Storm. 
“I heard Scott learned Dracula was about you” She hummed, bored of the debate as well. “I was wondering if you finally would tell your version of events?” You turned to look at her and pierced your lips. Thinking about the choice before you. It would be nice to get to talk about it, but at the same time you didn’t see it as fair to only do it since you brought it up to tease the boy. 
“I’m not su-” “She’ll do it” You turned harshly to the voice behind you and not surprisingly it was Logan. 
“Are you serious?” You pushed his arm away as his tried to lower it down on your shoulder. 
“What are you not proud to be a vampire?” 
“I am not a vampire” You grumbled looking back to Storm, who was also starting to get over this conversation. “Yeah sure whatever” She smiled and squeezed your arm as a thank you before leaving the two of you alone. 
Logan looked down at you and smiled. “I ate some broccoli today.”
“Wow. I’m impressed it wasn’t also soaked in scotch”
“Well I didn’t say that” You giggled at his response. You decided to get more comfortable under his arm, sinking into his side. Turning your attention back to Charles and Hank who finally agreed to a movie. The Breakfast Club. As they reached the decision, Alex Summers entered the room. 
Alex Summers was everything he was supposed to be. Kind, tall, handsome. The school girl crush of almost every girl that attended the school. He was calm, he was smart, he was caring, and he hated it. 
“Oh hey y/n.” He always wanted to be with you. You felt Logan tense up against you, his face contorting into an annoyed expression.
“Watch it bub” Logan said, staring at him intensely. You instinctively scratched his back to help him relax.
“Hi Alex! You need to stop by my office later for your check up.” You reminded him cheerfully. Alex thanked you for the reminder, promising to see you before Logan pulled you up with him and out of the lounge. In fact he managed to somehow pull you along out of that section of the mansion before he finally let go of you. 
“Dude what is your problem”
“I don’t like him”
“Yeah no shit.” You remarked, causing him to look down at you and raise an eyebrow. 
“I also don’t like when your sassy.” He poked your forehead with his finger, causing your face to scrunch up. “Besides your giving a presentation about your life, you need to make good on that promise” 
“I didn’t know you cared so much”
“I don’t” Oh. There it was. The fatal rejection that you have experienced from him over and over again. You looked down at the floor, muttering something about finding Storm and hurriedly walked away. He had hurt you for centuries. Your mind, body, and soul yearned for him and yet his own chased another. He had to know at this point. He just wanted to tease you until you couldn’t take it. Unfortunately for you, you had always shown him tolerance. 
Your walk was cut short as you bumped into Storm, who informed you that you were gonna “spill the beans” the next day, leaving you to walk back to your office and get ready for Alex to get his check up. 
As you prepped the trays you needed for his appointment, the all too familiar voice of Alex filled the room.
“Hello doctor,” He said in a flirty tone, cheering you up slightly. 
“Hi Alex, sit down here” You patted the bench and started the procedure. It was just a normal check up. He talked to you about his brother and his upcoming mission. Saying how he will miss his hot doctor when he left for Europe. 
It made you chuckle as you placed the stethoscope on his inner elbow, focusing once again on the sound and patterns of his blood. He watched you intently as you nodded your head along as if some kind of melody was playing and he was producing it. Your eyes were closed and your eyebrows furrowed together before you relaxed and smiled up at him.
“You're all good. Beautiful blood” He thank you before placing a blow pop he kept in his pocket in his mouth and walked out of your office. As the door shut, you started to clean and pack away your personal belongings. Putting the last needle into the biohazard box, you moved to turn off the lights when Charles wheeled into your office.
“Hello y/n. I need to ask you a favor”
~~~~~
tag list: @captain039
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Hello, I'm not sure if you've explained it or not but going in the depths of Malleus and Leona's character relationship? Like explaining their interactions and how they actually think of one another
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Many fan works tend to depict Leona and Malleus as extremely antagonistic toward one another. However, the truth is that their relationship is more like a one sided dislike or annoyance (on Leona’s part). It’s not uncommon for them to bicker or have some tension in their conversations even when they have the same goal in mind such as protecting a harp (Beans Day) or wooing a ghost (although Malleus is not participating for the latter, Leona still insists the ghost would prefer him to Malleus to get that dig in). They’re definitely still on bad terms), but Malleus is generally pretty neutral with Leona unless he is provoked.
Leona’s beef with Malleus is story relevant and makes itself known in book 2. He appears to primarily dislike Malleus because it is thanks to his sheer power that Diasomnia crushes Savanaclaw every inter-dorm tournament, essentially dashing Savanaclaw students’ hopes of being scouted and going pro. Buuut it seems like from the way Leona speaks about his rival, he has long since held these feelings and they aren’t linked to a single inciting incident.
Part of why Leona dislikes Malleus in general seems to be Malleus’s attitude. Leona describes his fellow prince as “pretentious”, “high and mighty”, and acting in ways that show disrespect to him (like in Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, when he casted a spell meant for objects on Leona). He may also take issue with Malleus’s “incomprehensible fae humor”, which Leona references both during Halloween and in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes. Additionally, Leona outright states that he hates people who refuse to listen (Silver) and just march to the beat of their own drum (Rook), which are traits you can argue also fits Malleus (since Malleus didn’t really listen to the upset dorm leaders in his Dorm Uniform vignettes). Leona appears to prefer dealing with Malleus to Silver though, as he says that Malleus’s ears aren’t just “for show”. Interestingly, Leona might dislike Malleus less than Rook; Leona is wary of so much as wishing Rook a happy birthday and refuses to dine next to Rook… yet Leona does sit next to Malleus at the end of Terror is Trending.
Leona is one of the few students who isn’t afraid of Malleus and has the gall to openly insult him (or is rude) on more than one occasion. He doesn’t really show any remorse or intent to apologize. In fact, Leona understands very well what bothers Malleus and often acts on those points of weakness to goad him, whereas it is very rare for Malleus to start the fights. For example, Leona tells Malleus in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, “You thinkin’ you’re gonna get it next time? Well, sorry to break it to you, but no one’s ever gonna invite you,” and, “You’re never gonna have a chance to wear those robes, so put’em away for good already.” This, of course, angers Malleus and leads into the two insulting one another’s physical features and exchanging threats (removing horns, declawing, calling each other animals or implying a lack of humanity, etc.). They similarly insult one another in Terror is Trending (again, Leona instigates: “Hmph, look at Mr. High-Horse over here. Were you flattered to be asked [to have your picture taken]?”) and again in Fairy Gala (Leona again: “Ever consider gettin’ off your tail and cleanin’ up your fellow fae’s mess?”). I’m sure there are tons of other instances you could come up with; these are just the immediate ones that come to my mind. Leona is also resentful about the idea of ever asking for Malleus’s help. He’d rather ask anyone else, even Malleus’s second in command, than ask the guy himself. Funnily enough, Lilia and Silver see these heated conversations as proof of Malleus and Leona’s friendship. I feel like this could also, in part, feed into Leona’s dislike of Malleus, as people having the wrong idea about your relationship can be irritating.
Now, Malleus does appear to care about maintaining amicable relations with representatives of other countries. Often it is he who instructs Sebek to apologize to Leona for being rude—two major instances of this occur in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes and during Vargas Camp. He even personally (and happily) welcomes Leona to Diasomnia in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes, viewing Leona as no different than any other guest.
This goes into the realm of speculation (so please bear with me!!) but it could be said that Malleus has a very… unique view of friendship? So Lilia and Silver may not be too far off when they say that Leona and Malleus are chums in their own weird way. In Glorious Masquerade, Rollo poses a real threat to Malleus and to his people—yet when Malleus experiences genuine fear for the first time, he seems more excited at the novel feeling rather than cower as a result of it. Following the climax, Malleus still presents the song he had prepared as a gift of good will for NBC. He also proceeds to play with Rollo’s guilt to get him to agree to sharing a dance. And THEN Malleus says he looks forward to being invited again????? These are all quite friendly gestures for someone who put you and all your people in danger, my guy… 😂 So perhaps Malleus just gas a very different way of approaching friendships? Hard to say, but that’s some food for thought!
Leona and Malleus have had moments of amicability, so it’s totally possible for them to get along. This happens primarily in Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes; in them, Malleus gifts the birthday boy an antique book in an ancient language (Leona’s best subject). The two then talk about enjoying the freedom of walking around town without an attendant or some servants trailing after them. Being of a similar social status, they are able to understand one another to some extent.
This is going into another point of speculation, but I wonder if Leona and Malleus recognize their similarities beyond this interview. I certainly have; they’re both arrogant princes that deeply desire what the other prince has, and I feel that their animosity, in part, comes from this realization (whether conscious or unconscious). I certainly get the sense that some of Leona’s hatred of Malleus comes from seeing his own desires manifested in him—of being that coveted prince praised for his power, his people lavishing him with affirmations, a crown… All the things Leona doesn’t have.
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yae-energy · 4 months
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╰┈─✩ ˚ ‧ All the ways I love you ‧ ˚
✧˖° synopsis : The Jjk first years and their love languages !
✧˖° cast and crew : Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori & Nobara Kugisaki x Black Reader < 3
.ᐟ content warnings : General tomfoolery and mushy mush cause FUCK THE MANGA.
⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ authors note : It’s been actual decades since I’ve posted any form of writing….I feel so unseasoned LMAO. This is just a quick lil hc post, nun crazyyy 😽
Megumi “I’ll do it” Fushiguro : Acts of Service king.
Now one thing about Megumi??? He’s gonna hit you with the “I got it” EVERY. SINGLE. TIME without fail. Doesn’t matter what time of day, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, he’s gonna make sure you don’t lift a finger for anythinggg.
Is he gonna complain whilst doing it? Of course.
But that’s just true Megumi fashion. It doesn’t mean he ACTUALLY hates doing things for you. Whether that be grabbing you snacks or completing mundane tasks for you such as carrying your bag or opening doors for you, HES GONNA DO IT EVERY TIME. You don’t even have to ask.
Def brings a “if he wanted to he would” typa vibe to the relationship and obviously you appreciate it ten fold (despite the tough guy act he tries and subsequently fails to put on. He loves him some you.) And what better way can he show that than through actions?
They speak louder than words, right?
Yuji “I love you” Itadori : Words of Affirmation goat
Ok y’all listen here, this boy is a certified yapper through and mf through. ESPECIALLY when it comes to you.
He will never fail to let you— or anyone for that matter, know just how much he loves you and appreciates your presence. You’re like some sort of higher being to him, the best thing since sliced bread if you will.
All day everyday he’s spouting all sorts of “I love you” and “I’m so lucky to have you 🥲” and he’s gonna get emotional EVERY TIME. Like he won some sort of award (the prize being you of course.) And that doesn’t even include the impromptu monologues about how you’ve changed him for the better, and how glad he is to even have someone as amazing as you.
He loves you REAL BAD, why wouldn’t he tell you?
He’d scream it from the rooftops if he could.
Nobara “Look what I got you” Kugisaki : Gift giving queen
Now, I personally consider Nobara to be a mixture of quality time and gift giving, but I’m leaning more with the latter because damn is she a great gifter.
Not only does she love spending money (me too girl, me too.) But, she LOVESSSSS you. Two birds with one stone she’d say, because she loves having an excuse to drop a couple dollars and make you happy in the process.
If she sees you eyeing something while window shopping? It’s yours automatically— whether you actually intended to buy it or not. She’s not good with the whole “lovey dovey” schtick, that’s just not her style. But to make up for it, she makes sure that you have whatever you want when you want it, even if you express she doesn’t HAVE to.
SHE WANTS TO, and you can’t tell her otherwise.
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⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags : - @morosis-haze @jogeto @mypimpademia @ivanari @planetlunaa @cosmiles @milesmolasses @chinieh @romiantic @stqrriichiigo
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if you wish to be tagged in any future works, here’s my tag form to fill out <33
if you wish to submit a request, here’s my ask box :)
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⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ closing notes : hey guys…ahahaha…
LOOK IK I SAID I WAS GONNA POST A MONTH AGO BUT LIFE WAS LIFING LMAOOO
I also got a new job now so I won’t have AS much time to post and be silly on here (not that I was super active before but yk.)
Anyhow, thanks for reading and putting up with my lying ass 😕🫶🏽
Love y’all BOOTS DOWN
Mwah 💋
- Xoxo, Yves
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enha-sua · 1 year
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(🔴) ... [ NOW PLAYING ] [ENGENE-MADE] THE LOVE TRIANGLE THAT IS : HEESUHOON !
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❛intro❜ : every generation has famous ships , it's inevitable.... but out of all the fourth gen ships , there hasn't been any that comes close the mess of a love triangle that is heesuhoon.
quick heesuhoon analysis: heeseung likes sua , but sunghoon also likes sua , but sua hates love triangles and they both know that but that doesn't stop them , and they think they're being slick but fans are aware and some are team suseung and some are team suhoon , and then theres a portion of them who just want all three of them to get a house together and live there lives until their golden age there (me) and for heehoon to stop being so obviously suspicious of jungwon , because of the small crush he had during i-land...
anyways today we're here to decide who's the best ship , and then it's up to you guys to pick your favorite ship
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ROUND ONE !
heeseung tying her shoe for her when she can't do it
example one: *video from a concert* *sua having to sit down during a few concerts because she sustained a injury to her knee and had to wear a cast* *doesn't know her shoe is untied* *heeseung does though* *heeseung mouthing: "your shoe" * *she can't hear* "huh" *bends down in the middle of the concert to tie her shoe* *the rest of enhypen are in complete confusion* *like dawg you are in the middle of the concert🤨*
example two: "unnie , your shoe!" *fan points to her shoes.* "ah! thank you" *about to bend down and tie it* *heeseung is quicker than that though* *bends down* *engenes going crazy* *enhypen once again caught in these two's love story while the staff are in the back gave up telling them to chill out* *sua is flustered* "as expected from heeseung." *jay is annoyed , even though he's captain of the ship*
heeseung: 2 sunghoon: 0
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ROUND TWO !
sunghoon always holding her bags for her
example one: "this bag is so annoying , i don't even know why i carry it." *spots a wild sunghoon minding his business*"my shoulders hurt so bad." *sunghoon immediately grabbing the bag* "i told you to stop using this bag , you always get red marks from holding it on your shoulders all day." *holding it in his hand.* "i'll only hold it for a second , then you're getting it back" *aggressive love* *3 hours later: he still has it* *jake notices him holding it on his shoulder now* "bro , she tricked you again?" *he doesn't even care* "yah , her shoulder was hurting , leave me alone." *he was hoodwinked*
example two: *fan video from twitter when they were at the prada event* *sunghoon waiting for her to get out the car* *ladies if he could he would* *finally gets out the car , and they're walking* *sunghoon mouthing: hand me your bag* *look at her smile , she knows she has him wrapped around her finger* *sua mouthing: thanks love* *happy hoonie* *suhooners have a field day with this video every other week*
heeseung: 2 sunghoon: 2
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ROUND THREE : !
heeseung giving her his sweater
*sua talking to engenes* *heeseung senses something is wrong* "are you cold?" *he's so cute 😭* "no , im fine." *she's obviously cold* "i told you to wear something warm." *heeseung scolding her as usual* "yah- im not cold" *doesn't want him to win* "fine , next time you should listen* *pouty sua* *she keeps talking , but he can see her shivering* *takes his sweater off , wrapping it around her body* *smiley sua* "i knew you were cold." *look at his smile , that is the look of a man in love*
heeseung: 3 sunghoon : 2
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ROUND FOUR !
sunghoon always keeping a sweater for her in his bag
*sua literally past out in the back😭* *sunghoon noticing* "that's because she's up all night playing on her ipad , she never goes to bed on time." *shaking his head like he isn't right beside when she's spamming weverse like a lunatic* "she's probably uncomfortable and cold." *gets up and walks away from the camera* *5 minutes later* *he's back with her sweater , draping it over her body* "she falls asleep anywhere , so you have to keep one at all times." *he says with the most serious face* "cute" *like what sunghoon😭*
heeseung: 3 sunghoon: 3
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ROUND FIVE !
suseung being cute
example one: *sua's birthday live* "where are the members? everyone is busy , they said they could've make it , but i'll take the cake home and we'll share it." *look at her frown* "anyway , back to what i was talking about." *5 minutes later* *knock on the door* "oh? who could that be?" *confused sua* *door opens* "i'm li-" *look at how her eyes light up* "what are you doing here" *that smile 💔* "what do you mean?" *it's heeseung !!!* "i came to wish you a happy birthday." *handing her the gift* "what is this?" *embarrassed heeseung* "ah! don't open yet , wait until i leave." *spoiler alert : it was the necklace she really wanted , im fucking sobbing😭* "thank you." *hugs him* *all the suseungers are dying*
example two: *sua and heeseung on a day out* "she forced me to sit in the nail salon for and hour while she got her nails sone." *she bamboozled* "i asked you if you wanted me to wait , i was gonna wait !" *not him just laughing* "anyways , i got these , they're baby pink , and look i got little bow gems." *heeseung cooking up a idea* *smirking* "let me see." *pouty sua* "no" "come on , let me see." *so unaware* "fine , only because they're cute and i want to show them off." *shows him* *grabs her hand and interlocks them* *look how flustered she is* "what are you doing?" *heeseung trying to be innocent* "what" *so fucking cute😭💔*
heeseung: 5 sunghoon: 3
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ROUND SIX !
suhoon being cute
example one: *sua doing a live in her room* "i cleaned my room for this , it's normally clothes everywhere" *same love , same* *knock on the door* "give me a minute" *gets up to answer it* "yah , im live." "i know , i was watching on my way home." *sunghoon doesn't care , he's come to disturb her piece* "park sunghoon!" *sits on her bed* "what do you want?" *sits back down* "did you just get home?" *like did she forget she was live , her whole body is turned to him* "hmm , i bought you food." *smiley sua* "thank you." *like the eye contact is killing me* "i'll wait for you to finish , so we can eat together." *and he did , he waited for the entire live 😭*
example two: *vacation content* *sua likes sitting by herself sometimes* *sunghoon likes to sit with sua* "what?" *says nothing* "what do you want?" just grabs her hand , and holds it.* *her face is all red , enhypen staff are literally throwing up rn trying to edit this* *they literally just sit in silence , while he plays with her fingers* *like the rest of the members are literally bouncing off the walls and they're just sitting there*
heeseung: 5 sunghoon: 5
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BONUS CLIP OF HEESUHOON IN ACTION !
heehoon both being jealous and ready to kill jungwon ( not literally no jungwons were actually hurt ) *hopefully😀*
"noona." *sua anytime the maknae line calls her that* "ah , cute!" *pinches his cheek* "so cute" *sua calm down , he's not going no where there's no need to be hugging him like that* *jungwon pretending this is his own personal hell , knowing he loves this* *heehoon on the other hand , this is their personal hell* *look at their faces 😳* "yah sua." *heeseung stopping sunghoon from a scandal* *sua hears them , turns around* *notices their expressions* *smiles* *look at them giggling like little school children* *all she did was smile STAND UP*
heeseung: 6 sunghoon: 6
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❛outro❜ : there's no winner they both are equally in love with the girl who hates love triangles and they should all just get a house together and live out their days there... but in all serious , who's your favorite ship , suseung or suhoon ?
comment down you fav , and don't forget to like and subscribe for more sua content goodbye 👋🏽
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©️ENHA-SUA
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thenightfolknetwork · 10 months
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Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.
Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.
Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.
I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?
Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?
First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.
Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.
You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.
And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?
Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.
Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.
It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.
You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.
This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.
[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]
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taylortruther · 3 months
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What’s your general opinion about TTPD?. Like if you had to describe how the album is what words would you use?. Do you think it’s a 100% matty album or something else?. I don’t really understand this album because it seems like the general consensus is matty and a love story but i’m not into 1975 so i truly don’t know where he stands.
i think many of the songs in the first half are about matty on the top, but the context of the album helps understand it - she was leaving a dead-end long-term relationship, and fell for a line (essentially) that blew up spectacularly in her face. you find yourself wondering while listening to songs like my boy or loml or icfh, is she talking about joe or matty? how could she not be talking about both?
edited to add: also, there is a theme, too, of her losing faith in her belief in love. what was once fated was no longer her birthright. a conman sold her a get-love-quick scheme. please, how do you change the prophecy, no sign of soulmates, the reality (that she might be alone forever) was sinking in... maybe it's punishment, for this life she leads, or the way she cast off people in the past. she grapples with this throughout the album.
but also, it's absolutely not 100% a matty album, because it's also an album about her mourning her ltr, and musing on how awful fame is. throughout ttpd, she (sometimes harshly) defines clearer boundaries with her audience, pushing back hard against lines she felt had been crossed, and forcing the audience to acknowledge the dehumanization one endures as a celebrity at the hands of the public. the listener is complicit. bdilh isn't just love story 2.0, it's her way of saying, "i made my choices, and i won't forget how you tried to force me to make other ones like we were in some weird fundamentalist cult." woalom? is her saying, more pointedly this time, "while you judge and scorn me, you continue tuning in, you helped make me a caged animal." and icdi is like an anthem priding herself on her work ethic, on being strong, with a ribbon of pain: "i show you lies. i could be dying inside, and you would be enjoying the show." how did it end? points out how painful it is, to be the focus of people's attention in the midst of the worst times of her life. no wonder she hates it here, she tells us. we made her feel worthless. we're replacing her with someone else right now (clara bow.) but, she muses in the manuscript and thank you aimee and the bolter, the pain is worth it.
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Text
TWST Cast - Fidgets/Stims/Self-Regulation
I needed something simple to write to feel like I'm. we're not actually gonna get into that, anyways, enjoy.
TW: Some of these are NOT healthy/borderline SH, but there's nothing graphic, it's just some folks don't know What's Wrong and only know how to make themselves focus via some sort of (minor) physical pain.
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Heartslaybul
Riddle - had to mask around his mother, said his stims (bouncing his leg, and kinda just. shaking his pen? you know what I mean, like between two fingers and you just let it bounce?) made him look mentally unwell (🙄), unruly and undisciplined. Totally not projecting At All So he rarely stims in public when he's trying to focus, though during testing periods and in the safety of his own room he tends to let himself (subconsciously) stim. He also chews on his bottom lip a lot, but not enough that it was ever noticed by his mother. (Floyd gifts him a fidget ring sometime in the future and he's surprised at how well it works for him) He also loves compression but has yet to discover it.
Trey - He doesn't stim a whole lot, but even in game we know that he tends to touch/readjust his glasses when he feels awkward/about to join a conversation or make a point he's being a bit of a smart alec about. Usually when he's really stressed, (which takes quite a bit to get him there), he'll excessively wash his hands with cold water.
Cater - has a lot of caffeine, so for the most part, his impulses to stim aren't there. That being said, when anxiety comes to kick him in the butt, usually just listening to music and tapping out the rhythm of the guitar with his finger against his thigh is enough to help him out, usually while keeping the beat by tapping his foot or bobbing his head at the same time. (usually some soft rock or pop music) When he's REALLY like. needs to get emotions out but can't because he doesn't like being vulnerable he makes himself eat unbearably hot (spicy) food and insists that he likes it even as he is Crying and Sniffling because. then he can write it off to the spice and not the fact he's dying inside. (Don't do this please sdlkjfhlksdjf) Sometimes he also stims by making popping noises, but he doesn't even recognize that he does this, because usually it's just when it's him and Trey in the room, and Trey isn't bothered by it. "Like" and "Really" are both stim words for him too.
Deuce - He's still learning to self-regulate! He knows that shouting helps him get everything out, but in the moment he sometimes struggles. He's still trying out different techniques. As for stims/fidgets Deuce doesn't really have any? Well he does, but he doesn't act on them when he needs to focus since One Incident early on in life when he found out that his fidgets make noise (he's deaf as a part of my HC and didn't get hearing aids until he was like 5-6) and he hates to be a bother to anyone else. On top of that, I think he has a slight auditory processing disorder, so he has a tendency to repeat things back to people, just to make sure he's understood correctly once his brain has caught up to their words. He doesn't know it yet, but compression will help him Calm Down when needed.
Ace - Whistling/noise imitation in general, bouncing his leg, pen tapping, etc. this guy has ADHD but thank the Seven for his older brother who was patient and gentle with him when he was younger. When Ace struggles to focus, he tends to just shuffle a deck of cards, he likes the way they feel. In the rare occasion that he chooses to study, he usually does so while shuffling the cards/practicing a magic trick at the same time because the Physical task during the Mental task makes the Mental task more interesting. He also uses music as a means of self-regulation. (Usually classic rock).
Savannaclaw
Leona - His emotional regulation is out to lunch and the closest he gets to stimming is his tail flicking. It could be argued that the feeling of his blankets is Nice To Him but idk man. Catnip helps with regulation? Idk. Sure.
Ruggie - Idk are we counting his tail wagging as a stim? technically it could be considered one, right, it's a subconscious physical response to happiness? Ruggie also tends to chew on his lip when he's focusing, but his teeth are sharper than Riddle's so it often draws blood and he rarely notices. Sometimes he's kinda hit with just a Wave of what the fuck am I doing with my life? and just needs to rub something soft (Usually Leona's laundry bc it's more luxurious than anyone else's), a little bit to try and recenter himself. If that doesn't work he just tries to work himself to a point of exhaustion so he can ignore the Bad Feelings. This rarely works and he ends up calling his grandma by the end of it just to ask her to leave the phone on speaker so he can hear the chaos and rough and tumble of home. At the end of the phone call his grandma sings to him bc she knows full well what's going on and the sense of familiarity is enough to help Ruggie feel less restless. This boy also loves compression. Also, rolling with the idea that he got to keep the trumpet from the port fest event and started teaching it to himself, during the day/when he's bored he practices tonguing+breathing excercises/patterns (don't be weird about this I stg) or buzzing with or without his mouth piece. Also chews on his nails a lot. I feel like eventually someone gifts him one of those chew necklaces and he loves it but his bite force accidentally damages it much sooner than it should have been so then that same person gets one commissioned specifically to withstand a hyena's bite force and it's the best gift he'll have ever gotten (besides a wad of cash but yknow)
Jack - I mean besides his tail wagging...there isn't much else? For emotional regulation, he tends to just go running if he needs something to focus on. Music also helps sometimes, but it's specifically classical and he just sits in bed and listens to it in his comfiest clothes bc. unlike SOME people he will listen to his body and mind and rest when necessary.
Octavinelle
Azul - Him? Stim? Never. /J He masks a lot mostly because he knows that stimming can come off as anxious, and that's the last thing he wants when he's trying to be convincing to someone else, or really, in front of the twins. That being said, alone in his office he twirls his pen a lot, and late nights/Anxiety Times leads to him tugging on that strand of hair that's longer than the rest as a means of staying focused and in the moment. He thinks he can't be vulnerable in front of the twins but honestly they pick up on his anxiety so easily, they both know compression helps him out. Jade is generally touch repulsed, so usually Floyd takes it upon himself to Flop on Azul's back while he's working. Azul will sometimes imitate playing chords on the piano, on his desk for the same reason Ace plays with cards. He also finds himself stress eating sometimes which does nothing good for his self-esteem.
Jade - Also Masks A Lot. It would take someone he trusts even more than his own twin that would ever get to see him act on his impulses. Otherwise we would see Jade with the happy flappies (though I feel like he would keep his hands in fists instead). However, when things are Bad, Jade does one of two things, both of which are done in a locked bathroom. 1. Fill the sink with cold water and dunk his head in without switching to his mer form. 2. Rolls up his sleeves and bites himself. Just once is usually enough to get him out of it. He also finds the whole. Cleaning out the wound and wrapping himself pretty relaxing. He has not considered just using a tensor bandage yet to self regulate, eventually Floyd will find out wtf he's doing and suggest That instead. Jade will sometimes unmask just enough to rock slightly side to side or back and forth/up on his tiptoes and back down bc he can make it fit with his whole 'I'm innocent baby' kinda facade he pulls sometimes sdlkfjhslkdjf Also tends to need a completely silence space when he's overstimulated.
Floyd -WHOOOOOWEEE babes you already know he is STIM central WHOOT WHOOT he's got the happy flappies, he's got the leg bouncy, he's got the clicky pen, he's got the 'I gotta touch something squishy' need, etc. etc. HOWEVER sometimes he's got the Bad Stims, like he cannot focus on anything, nothing is being retained, he feels over and understimulated at the same time, nothing feels Good, he doesn't feel hungry, he wants Nothing to do with anyone, his leg is bouncing, he's kinda just stabbing his pencil repeatedly into the table and he KNOWS he should focus but just can't- and then Lilia introduces him to metal music and it's like Wow. Everything is better. It has to be blasting, but now Floyd has a means of dealing with That Feeling whenever it rolls around. Also it HAS to be over the ear headphones because of the compression and Friendly Squishy Texture of the parts that cover his ears. Makes him feel better in less than ten minutes, it's a win-win for everyone except he can never remember the name of the band, so he almost always tracks down Lilia to demand (ask) for a reminder and Lilia just almost always has his headphones and phone on hand so just Gives them to Floyd while he goes through Floyd's phone and curates a playlist for him and finds his exact headphones on the equivalent of Amazon so Floyd can order them. Floyd in general, when listening to music, tends to imitate whatever his favourite part of the song is, whether it's the bass line, guitar, drums, keyboard, lyrics, etc. and will switch between various parts as he sees fit. This also means it's not uncommon to hear Floyd essentially beatboxing as a stim method as well. Floyd also snaps his fingers a lot, he likes spinning things on his fingers (be it as innocent as a key chain or dangerous as scissors), and also imitates people a lot. He doesn't always intend to, but like. If he is talking to someone with an accent, he accidentally IMMEDIATELY takes on that accent and finds it funny because he literally can't stop himself. Idk if anyone else has this issue but dear god as someone more anxious than Floyd this has lead to a lot of awkward situations for me bc I have to CONSCIOUSLY not speak in whatever accent my brain is trying to make me take on.
Scarabia
Kalim - ALSO stim central, though his tend to be in response to happiness. He tends to parrot people a lot, beatboxes/makes noise, happy wiggles, snaps his fingers,lots of different kinds of taps, and has happy flappies. He has some. Not so good regulatory practices as well, but when he's overwhelmed he tends to rock back and forth, or ...like. Idk really how to describe it, but he taps his hand against his chest really fast, but it's like in a claw shape so after a few times it starts to hurt a little? because of his finger nails?? idk how else to describe it. He knows better than to do it in front of Jamil though. Music tends to overwhelm him when he's already overstimulated so he ends up putting headphones on just to try and block out the noise. White noise doesn't help, he just wants it to be as quiet as possible.
Jamil - Stims more than people realize, because his stims are naturally more subtle. When Kalim comes to 'bother' him in the kitchen, he keeps himself as focused and relaxed as possible by balancing on one foot at a time, to give himself something to think about besides the 'unwelcome' invasion. When he's studying, he flips his hood up and is constantly rubbing the fabric close to his face and has a bit of a leg bounce. He also uses music as a means of regulation, usually something with a lot of syncopation. Jamil also keeps his hand in a fist and bumps it against his side sometimes when he's trying to stay focused in a conversation.
Pomefiore
Vil - He doesn't really stim all that much, but on days he doesn't feel himself/bad anxiety/PTSD is getting to him, he washes his hands with burning hot water. He knows it's not good. And his hands are super sensitive afterwards. But it stops him from spiraling and that's all he needs. He takes care of them properly afterwards and will make sure to wear his gloves.
Rook - I kinda HC Rook with OCD. Most of his stims are his methods of coping with any sort of dirt or germs, perceived or otherwise. He hates not wearing his gloves, (of which he has different pairs for different Places), but in the event he can't have them on for whatever reason, or a task will be more efficiently done without them, he washes his hands until they're raw because then he can be sure that layer of skin that was in Contact isn't there. Rook regulates with scents a lot too, whether it be the perfume Neige/Vil uses or rooibos tea that his sister used to make for him.
Epel - Idk if gesticulation counts as stimming, but he does it a lot, just not in front of Vil dslkfjhksdjf. I feel like it's only really around Deuce that he feels comfortable doing his happy stomps, though for the hometown event he likely doesn't mask much so other people get to see it too. As much as Epel hates being called short, he likes the fact if he sits back far enough in his chair he can kick his feet without touching the floor sljdfhlksjd. He also tends to grind his teeth.
Ignihyde
Idia - He has SO MANY homemade fidgets but he gets tired of them really quickly so he ends up putting them in the scraps lab of Ignihyde. He likes clicking sounds a lot, (go figure /lh), and ASMR. In the (horrific) event he has to leave his room, usually he tries to keep his anxiety at bay via rubbing the ridges on his sweater, playing/rubbing at his hands/wrists in the pouch pocket of his sweater or rocking a bit, though he hates doing that bc it draws attention to him sometimes. If he does end up overstimulated in a Bad Way or anxious, he tends to pick at his lips/chew on his fingernails.
Ortho - Baby!! He tends to mimic other people's stims when they look fun! He does do happy trills/beeps now and then of his own volition and it's Adorable. He will also do them when he feels like cussing sldkfhlksjd Ortho also claps when he's happy, and if he has his boosters on might even do a little flip. As a treat. When he does need emotional regulation, he knows compression helps so he just asks big brother for a hug. 10/10.
Diasomnia
Malleus - Doesn't stim a whole lot...nor does he really emotionally regulate, though I feel like. For some reason he really likes (cloud) slime as a fidget. Like, he doesn't need it in order to regulate anything, but he finds the texture and sound pleasing. He does sometimes repeat other people to process information. I do think he would be more prone to stimming when he's more dragon than humanoid.
Lilia - Obviously uses music to regulate, bc he did it for Floyd, but he also uses his turning upside down and feeling all the blood rush to his head as a method of getting his brain out of a bad spot. Lilia does also have a chew necklace that he uses now and then, but other than that, he rarely gets overstimulated or needs a distraction. He just likes chewing sldjfhslkjdf he does help Sebek and Silver self regulate though
Silver - He doesn't stim a whole lot, but when he was younger he used to have a lot of nightmares. Usually Lilia would help him through it with breathing exercises, but if he was too panicked to focus on that he would get a few pieces of ice and wrap it in a cloth towel so as to protect him from it hurting. The cold would distract Silver enough to stop crying as hard, and then both Lilia and Silver would hold an ice cube in their hands until Silver didn't want to anymore and they could practice their breathing. Every now and then, Silver still goes to the freezer at night just to hold ice in both hands until he's calmed himself down from a particularly bad dream or anxiety just eating at him.
Sebek - Refuses to believe he stims. However, he acknowledges the ice trick does help him refocus when he finds that he isn't able to on his own. He doesn't realize he grinds his teeth or that staring at a fan actually helps him calm down. Also Lilia bought him a lava lamp and it also helps stop the overwhelming Feelings he has sometimes.
Others
Che'nya - picks at his skin a lot. He knows it's not good but he can't help it there are Textures There He Doesn't Want but also Feel Funny on his fingers. He tends to self-regulate simply by purring or scratching himself/getting someone else to scratch behind his ears. He also tends to put things in his mouth without much thought behind it. All his pencils have bite marks. He has probably eaten like 30 erasers by this point by accident. He also really likes smells, usually freshly baked bread to help regulate, which is why he sometimes comes to 'invade' Heartslaybul is just to chill in the kitchen while Trey bakes to help him tune out any bad feelings he has. Every once in a while, he'll use catnip to deal with anxiety, but Neige usually intervenes before then and like. Puts on one of those fish videos for cats. Che'nya loves them more than he would like to admit. He also carries a ball of yarn because he likes how soft it is and he can fidget with it when he needs to.
Jack T. - Almost the exact same stims as his little brother, but he masks a lot because he Had To when he was growing up. He's just glad that he was able to provide a space for Ace to be able to express himself the way he needed to.
Najma - She also stims in a fairly subtle way. She usually has a scarf on her that's a soft material that she rubs as a means of regulation, like some sort of silk, she likes the smooth texture. She has 10 hour versions of her favourite song, (whatever it may be) on her playlist. (Jamil does NOT understand this whatsoever, how Najma can stand to listen to something that long does not make sense to him sdlfhlkjsf) She also has a hand cream she carries with her everywhere because she likes the smell of it.
Neige - He has a lot of anxious bouts and PTSD that he can usually mask, but he's almost always rubbing his wrist gently, humming, singing or whistling. He kinda figures if he's always making a noise of some kind, nobody will pick up on what lies underneath. When he does have a full blown panic attack, he has breathing exercises he works through that work for him. He also journals a lot.
Extra
Vizzie - Rubs her wrist where her vambrace ends, tugs at her hair when she's borderline dissociative to help keep her in the present, and when she's really feeling. not great? She eats ice with salt on it. It's the burning sensation that helps her focus on Just That and nothing else. Once Cater introduces her to caffeine as a stimulant it does help with a lot of her ADHD-like tendencies, but listening to music with over the ear headphones helps too. When she doesn't want to. you know. punish herself with salted ice, she just has Ice but she has to let it sit until it's the Right Texture. And you might be like. Hey. This sounds like an amalgamation of A Lot of things from above. Guess what babyyyy most of those stims ^^^ are things I do too. And Vizzie is basically. An AU version of myself. Guess what I was doing that made me wanna write this post? slkdjfhslkjdf that's right doing a shitty job at self regulation but hey, writing it out made me Feel Better WOOOO yeah Later on in the Canon story she ends up being more comfortable showing happy stims. When she's listening to music, she often ends up doing the same thing as Cater with the rhythms of the guitar line being tapped out. (bc I gave him my stim wooo I'm taking it back for her lsdkjfhlksjdf)
Anyways. I'm surprised I finished this in one sitting. Must be the caffeine.
Taglist: (lmk if you wanna hop on)
@fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain
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bluecatwriter · 3 months
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I watched the Wildhorn/Black/Hampton Dracula rock opera!
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Okay, okay, okay. As some of you know, one of the guys in my theater troupe got me comp tickets to see him in Dracula: The Musical. You guys. It was an EGREGIOUS adaptation that didn't even make narrative sense on its own terms. I also had a TOTAL BLAST. 
If you like the musical, no shade to you— please just keep scrolling and like what you like! However, I had so many thoughts about this that I had to word-vomit about it, and thought some of you might have fun reading my thoughts on the good, the bad, and ugly for 3,000 words.
TL:DR: Very fun experience, so glad I went, the play's narrative choices make me want to throw hands in a Denny's parking lot, much dunking/adaptation-hate ahead, my friends are amazing, I'm writing my own play now.
(CW discussion of rape, ableism, drug use, suicide)
-First of all, everyone take a moment to appreciate my eyeliner. I do not usually draw eyeliner that well so I was very proud of myself.
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-I went with my sister, since we both knew people in the cast. (I thought we knew three, but we actually knew four: the actors who played Dracula, Mina, Lucy, and Quincey.) My sister didn't know anything about Dracula except what she'd picked up from my incoherent ramblings (which I generally keep to a minimum around her). 
-It was a black-box theater, which I didn't expect: six or so rows of chairs on each side of the theater, facing each other across the relatively small room, with the stage in the middle and a live orchestra (!!!) on one end. The set was a minimalist Gothic castle design, with windows, a freestanding moving wall, and a large platform that, throughout the play, served as Dracula's coffin, a table, Lucy's bed, Lucy's coffin, and just a general place to stand and sing in a badass way. I absolutely LOVE black box shows because they're so intimate: you can almost reach out and touch the actors, and you can see every minute facial expression and gesture, the light glittering in their eyes, and so on. (Acting in a black box theater is much more like movie acting because the audience can see what you're doing with your eyes in a way that regular theater doesn't allow, meaning that things like eye contact between characters is much more electric and effective.)
-The sound design and lighting effects were doing a lot of heavy lifting in this show, and they nailed it. Very spooky!
-The play began with the weird sisters, and they were consistently my favorite part of the play— the actresses killed it (ha), bringing an intense, spooky energy to the story, often serving as narrators, background singers, extras, special effects handlers (such as portraying the wreck of the Demeter), and the physical manifestation of Dracula's will/presence. They were AWESOME.
-I had decided in advance that this play was a fanfiction written by Dracula about himself, and nothing about the show dissuaded me from this idea. The guy who played Dracula served major cunt from the moment he stepped onstage, wearing leather pants with laces up the side and a big sweeping coat and a huge amount of eyeliner that really brought out his unnervingly blue eyes. ("All guys should wear eyeliner and leather pants," I joked to my sister after the show, and she responded, with the most haunted look I've ever seen, "I agree about the eyeliner, but not the pants. I lived in San Francisco for three years, and you know not what you speak of. There are things I cannot unsee.")
-Actually, to be honest I liked Dracula's characterization (until the end; see below); whether because of the director or the actor or both, this version really did not downplay what a bastard he is. He was incredibly ruthless, in all senses of the word: focused on a single goal and not caring who got mowed down in the process. Anytime his sung lines talked about him being lonely or sad or whatever, the actor played it off as him trying to garner sympathy from his listener, rather than expressing his true feelings, which was a directing/acting choice I really appreciated.
-When Jonathan came on stage (from the door just a few feet away) I nearly squealed with delight! He just RADIATED "biggest sweetheart you've ever met" energy: tall and lanky and with a scruffy lil beard and clothes that didn't quite fit. I was in love with him from the beginning. Also he got to mention his Kodak camera, and I remembered that I could not actually cheer at moments like that because that would be weird.
-The Dracula-Mina "romance" was introduced very early, which I appreciated; from a storytelling perspective, it was good to have that continuous thread. Dracula looks at a picture of Mina, mentions how young she is, asks Jonathan if she is "pure," and then decides that they're soulmates. It was SO PERVY. Once again, I loved the Dracula characterization. If only it had stayed one-sided…
-I was fortunately warned that in this version Jonathan takes the crucifix off so the weird sisters can continue attacking him, but I still had to suppress a "BOOOOO!" (I did whisper "NOT CANON!" to my sister, and later she said that when that happened in the play she was like, "Oh, okay, I don't care what happens to this guy now.") But I guess it did have the effect of making him less sympathetic, which served the story the play was trying to tell.
-I was pleased that there was a Drac-drinking-from-Jonathan scene, and consistent with the storytelling, Drac had a whole song about how he needs Jonathan's blood so he can be young and hot and go seduce Mina (which, again, fits with the story they were telling). They decided not to have any sexual tension between Dracula and Jonathan, so the blood-drinking scene was pretty brutal (complimentary)— Jonathan laid out on the platform with Drac just. gnawing on his neck while Jonathan writhed and convulsed. It was still kinda hot though not gonna lie
-Lucy's characterization at first was pretty interesting, because her song about the three suitors (and the directing/acting) made it seem like she was just kinda stuck with three mediocre choices, and chose the least offensive one (Arthur, who she describes as boring and can't even think of one nice thing to say about him) and tried to convince herself that she would be happy. This was honestly the biggest moment where I had to just squirm in my seat to keep from actively booing. Don't be so mean 2 my boy! From a storytelling perspective, it wasn't clear at all why she chose Arthur, because Quincey was the only one of the suitors who had any personality at all (even Jack was bland. JACK. WAS BLAND. YOU COULDN'T HAVE HIM SIT ON HIS HAT OR AT LEAST FIDDLE WITH HIS LANCET? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???). Anyway, Arthur was actually totally fine after that song (and had some nice lines in the group songs).
-Meanwhile, Drac is creeping on Mina by entering her thoughts without her consent and being like, "We're soulmates," and she just…. goes along with it???? With literally no rhyme or reason to her decision???? I know some of this is that I hate the whole concept of soulmates, but I expected at least SOME justification for why she was interested in him. There was no indication she was unhappy with Jonathan; there was no hint of any emotional connection; there wasn't even some weird "reincarnated lover" story to try to soften how incredibly strange it felt that Mina was randomly in love with this guy's voice in her head. His baritone is sexy BUT IT IS NOT THAT SEXY. GIRL PLEASE.
-In this version Dracula bites Lucy because he's trying to call Mina to him and Lucy comes by accident and he's like, "Well, nothin' I can do about that. CHOMP." Which, again, I honestly liked this characterization because he's not apologetic about who he is; he is just destroying everyone in his way and not caring about them as people. He just has a goal and he'll do anything to reach it.
-Then of course Lucy's like, "Oooh that was actually so sexy and I never want to wake up from that dream of him chomping on my throat." The directly seemed to imply that being bitten by a vampire just. instantly turns you into something that's not yourself, so I could kinda excuse it if I squinted, but it was still pretty icky.
-Renfield got to stab Jack! My sister felt sorry for Jack (because all his unethical science got shaved off in this adaptation) and I was just like, "YESSS RENFIELD YOU GO!" 
-Jonathan shows up again, in a wheelchair (a really cool old-fashioned one), and Mina goes to marry him, and their marriage is paralleled with Lucy and Arthur's while Drac looms in the background. The double wedding was a nice staging choice, although the optics of Mina somewhat reluctantly marrying disabled Jonathan while abled Dracula is standing by being All Sexy was… uh, it was not great. But on the plus side, maybe it emphasizes the ableism that a lot of people have toward Jonathan's disabilities in the story, bringing them out into the open? (I am grasping at straws here.)
-Van Helsing was perfect! The actor had wild gray hair and forehead bumps and a tenor voice that could shatter your heart into a million pieces. He did a great job of having the "weird professor" vibes even though his lines were more coherent and to-the-point than they are in the book. 
-No blood transfusions, sadly, but I see why they cut that part.
-Lucy turning vamp was very well done. I think I should mention at this point that the actors who played Dracula and Lucy are actually married to each other in real life, and they had really crackling chemistry and it was clear in every scene they were together that they were having just the best time. "Life After Life" was my second-favorite song in the play because it's just Dracula sending Lucy out to eat people— and again, both actors were clearly having SO MUCH FUN performing this song together. At the end of the scene I was all pumped up, like, "Yeah Lucy! Go eat some people!!!"
-Intermission. I told my sister this was like the part in Rashomon where the rapist tells the court his point of view and is like, "Oh, she totally wanted it." My sister shook her head at me and chuckled.
-The graveyard/Bloofer Lady scene was genuinely horrifying; Lucy's actress did an AMAZING job of amping up the horror, beginning the scene by cradling a baby and singing it a lullaby, then just CHOMPING down on it, and throwing it down and hissing like an animal when the Crew of Light approached her. Mina and Jonathan were in that scene, too, and even though Mina didn't have any lines, seeing her reacting to it (rushing to grab the child, dodging out of Bloofer!Lucy's snapping jaws) gave the scene a lot of emotional intensity. 
-Both Bloofer!Lucy's death and Renfield's death were directed beautifully; they were both somewhat quiet, almost slow motion, focused not on the violence but on the emotional weight of both their lives ending.
-Jonathan and Arthur, while both being incredibly bland characters, have I think more dialogue in this play than they do in the book. Every time they spoke I was like, :D :D :D! My blorbos!!!
-Throughout Mina's whole song "Please Don't Make Me Love You" (sung, of course, to Dracula) I focused VERY HARD on my friend's amazing acting, her beautiful voice, the way she was playing this with absolute conviction, while in the back of my head I was screaming. Just a primal, Nazgul-like shriek. GIRL WHY (I think my sister was amused by how much I was squirming)
-Van Helsing has a nice little song about his dead wife, saying that it was a vampire that killed her and that's why he's a vampire hunter now. He was also shooting up with a comically large syringe during this song, but sure, yeah, that's fine. Like I said, his voice was SO BEAUTIFUL, so I was entranced. If only he had gotten a chance to find connection and family ties in order to continue that character arc HINT HINT
-Ah, then we get the Blood Baptism scene. Mina sings a song about how she doesn't want to run away (because of that sexy baritone voice I guess) so she invites Dracula into her room, he knocks out Jonathan, and then they make out over Jonathan's body. Le sigh. The funniest part of this scene is that they had her drink from his chest but they didn't use any fake blood, so he just unbuttons his shirt and she buries her face in his boobs, no context. I asked my sister afterward, "What did you think was going on in that scene?" and she said, "I figured she was drinking from his vampire-milk titties."
-Van Helsing and Dracula got an "I will take you down!"-style song that was actually really cool.
-Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, BOOK-CANON MINA SHOWS UP! She was in a wheelchair now (a great directing choice, I thought), and demanded that Van Helsing hypnotize her, insisted on them keeping the information from her so that Dracula can't get to it, makes them all vow to kill her, and figures out where Dracula is going based on the maps. I was like THERE SHE IS! THERE'S MY GIRL! …But unfortunately this characterization makes no sense in the story the musical is actually telling. Why is Mina leading them to him? Why is she taking such pains to make sure Dracula is not warned of their coming? It didn't fit with any of her characterization in the rest of the play (and especially not with the ending), so it felt really cobbled-together and odd.
-Also Jonathan vows to kill her and there's a whole song about how sad he is that he will have to do that. I was gritting my teeth the whole song being like It's a storytelling choice it's a storytelling choice it's a storytelling choice it's a storytelling choice it's a
-Okay. YOU GUYS. YOU GUYS. The song "Deep in the Darkest Night" WAS AMAZING. It's a song by the Crew of Light (and in this version, sung by all six of them, including Mina) about their quest, and how they must be points of light in the darkness. It was SO BEAUTIFUL and SO THEMATICALLY ON POINT and it was EVERYTHING I WANTED from a Dracula musical and it is a CRIME that the whole play was not built around these themes and motifs!! *chewing on the scenery* Also, holy cow, everyone in the cast could sing like nothing else. Full-body chills. Stunning, incredible, showstopping, no notes.
-In one of the hypnotic sessions, Dracula came to stand behind Mina and they sang a duet, a reprise of "Life After Life" (the song for Bloofer!Lucy), and that was an incredibly effective storytelling choice (also their voices just blended so. well. together that even in the songs I hated, I still got chills because their voices were SO DANG BEAUTIFUL TOGETHER). Again, I am haunted by what this play could've been if the Drac/Mina thing was one-sided.
-In this version, Quincey gives Mina his Bowie knife for protection, which I thought was sweet.
-Drac has a big sad-boy song about how he's actually in love with Mina now. BOOHOO MOTHERFUCKER. NO ONE CARES.
-Quincey got killed by trying to stake Dracula and Drac grabbing the stake and shoving it into his stomach. (My sister gasped and squeaked, "No!" when this happened.)
-Meanwhile, Van Helsing and Mina get separated, and Mina has a whole song about how she's made her final decision: she's gonna become a vampire and live with Dracula forever. At this point in the play I was like, Okay, girl, whatever, you do you…
-But then. BUT THEN. *frothing at the mouth*
-(Don Black and Christopher Hampton meet me in the Denny's parking lot I just want to talk)
-Drac's like, "Ooooh no actually I don't want you to be a vampire so you need to kill me now."
-Mina's like, "Nooooo this makes me so sad I have chosen to be a vampire and it is what I truly want!"
-Drac's like "Nobody cares what you want because the authors couldn't care less about your agency as a person"
-Mina's like "nooooooooo i'm so saaaaaad!"
-(Me: *still frothing at the mouth*)
-Finally, weeping, she takes Quincey's knife and places it over his heart.
-And then SHE DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING KILL HIM HE JUST GRABS HER HAND WITH THE KNIFE IN IT AND KILLS HIMSELF
-Like, I am just so mad that Mina doesn't even get the tiniest bit of agency here at the end. She is just blown about by the whims of the men, and at the end none of her narrative choices are respected in any way. A lot of this is, I'm sure, the directing for this particular performance: if I were trying to make this ending a bit more narratively satisfying, I would give Mina a moment where you can see her agreeing with him and deciding to kill him herself. This ending just felt��� cheap. It didn't even form a satisfying closing even based on the rules of its own storytelling. It was so ridiculous that I actually had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. 
-After the show we got to talk to all our friends who were in it and it was easy to sincerely compliment them because they all did an AMAZING job. I feel so honored to be friends with such amazingly talented people!
-We drove home in a lightning storm while blasting Blondie's song "One Way or Another" (my sister said she was thinking of this song all through the Drac/Mina story arc) and singing loudly along. "ONE WAY OR ANOTHER/I'M GONNA FIND YA/I'M GONNA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA!"
-I asked her which two characters she thought I shipped the most and she guessed Jonathan/Quincey. Not a bad guess.
-Got home, rambled to my very tired spouse, curled up in bed, turned to him and said, "I promise to never leave you for some random dude who speaks in my head and says we're soulmates," and he replied, "And I promise to never leave you for three sexy vampire ladies," and if that's not a wedding vow renewal I don't know what is.
-Laid awake for nearly two hours brainstorming a Dracula play (not a musical, I'm not that talented). And, uh… yeah. A script is gonna happen. I've written plenty of plays (and co-directed/co-produced a few times), so it's definitely in my wheelhouse, and my brain will not shut up with ideas. So! *tosses it onto list of creative projects*
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(P.S. If you reblog, please don't tag this as the Dracula musical because I don't want any fans to be exposed to the hate. Thanks!)
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aloeverified · 1 year
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boruto rewrite where the show actually still focuses on the original characters from naruto, but we're seeing them face their struggles that come with being adults in the society they live in and after going through what they did. their children are also in the show and we're given their perspective on the events compared to their parents'.
the overall plot revolves around naruto trying to change the shinobi system. he knows first hand how terrible the repercussions are when children are forced to be soldiers, and now that he's the hokage, he finally has the power to change it.
the only problem is, not everyone agrees with him. many believe by changing the age that shinobi begin their training, they won't be as strong later on and the village will become weaker over the years. not only that, but some people just don't understand why naruto feels this way. they were shinobi all their life and they turned out just fine — why fix what isn't broken?
it causes conflict within the cast and allows us to delve into each character more, showing why they feel the way they do and how their experiences have built up to the person they are.
besides that, other characters get their own storylines as well that connect with the theme of recovering from trauma.
gaara realizes that he's only ever lived for his village — as a soldier, a weapon, the kazekage. he works himself to the bone for his village while ignoring his basic needs, still having not realized he's a human just like everyone else. when he gets shinki, he realizes what it's like to prioritize something; what it's like to nurture and love.
sakura works at a hospital for young shinobi, doubling as both a healer and a therapist of sorts. she listens to the children tell their stories and gives them a shoulder to try on. she saw what being alone did to her teammates and she doesn't want any other child to go through what they did.
during her time at the hospital, she slowly begins to see pieces of herself within her patients. her trauma, which she's always pushed away and ignored, starts to come out. she's forced to face these memories she's always tried to bury deep. she struggles with understanding it as well as feeling validated compared to what naruto and sasuke had to go through.
she also struggles with her marriage to sasuke as she starts to unpack all the terrible things he's done to her. she's knows why he did them and she can justify his actions as much as she wants, but it doesn't change the fact he traumatized and tried to kill her at one point.
hinata's would focus on the hyuga. she's an outsider to them without any power. when she was stripped of her title and allowed to marry naruto, she thought it was a dream come true. she was so confident that hanabi would change the clan, that the branch system would be destroyed and neji wouldn't have died in vain.
only, without hinata, hanabi began to crack under the pressure of the elders and her father until she became just like them. the seal system is still in place, the branch families are still treated as servants.
it's a lot about generational trauma. how no matter how much hinata tried to change things for hanabi, she was always destined to fall into the same path as her father. only by recognizing this and making the changes her family refused to do in the past, are they able to change things.
i think there could also be something about how once, a long time ago, hiashi had wanted to change the hyūga. he wanted to dispel the main/side branch family system so his brother could be free. but overtime, he became complacent — very similar to hanabi.
as for the kids, i would show the differences between them based on how their parents feel about them being raised as soldiers.
for example, shikatema would have no problem with the shinobi system (at first) and their child would be entered into the academy and ready to become a ninja.
boruto, however, was raised by parents who want to change the system and hate the senseless violence, therefore he was not enrolled. this causes him to have some resentments for his parents as he's in the minority of children who aren't attending the ninja academy. he's viewed as a weak and soft-hearted by his companions and he hates it. maybe he goes against his parents and attends the academy in secret somehow.
there's a lot you can do with each character, honestly. i won't go further into it unless asked, but here's my main thoughts. i have a lot of idea with how to conclude the arcs as well, but i'm not sure how people would feel about it.
gaara stepping down as kazekage and leaving suna, sakura divorcing sasuke as she realized she never truly loved him romantically, hinata becoming the hyūga head/disbanding the hyūga, etc. many ideas.
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cerastes · 1 year
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I was wondering, are there any characters in Arknights that on the surface are jokesters, but anre actually immensely deep and powerful? I know about characters like Jaye and Nothing, but they aren’t particularly funny and casual. What I’m looking for is someone like Sans, basically.
"Nothing isn't particularly funny" oh we're just fundamentally different people then because I smile like a babe listening to jingling keys every time he's in the scene.
In the exact same regard as Sans, 1:1? Not really. Similar enough in some regards or in essence that they warrant mention? Yeah, I'd say so.
Aak is a good case, I'd say. Aak is a very casual guy, perhaps excessively so, referring to Doctor as "my dude" and in general having a very whimsical whistle to his steps, not to mention his seemingly jovial soul. Then you dig a bit deeper and you realize, well, despite the way he behaves, he takes what he does extremely seriously and is one of the most ruthless characters in the cast as a whole, in addition to being a medical sciences prodigy the likes of which Terra has seldom seen, and being infamous in the criminal underworld as a vigilante and executioner that has no qualms disposing of a mother fucker, if said fornicator of moms is a criminal and adversely affects others. See, the thing with Aak is that he, for the longest time, hated being so good at the medical sciences, because as he saw with his own twisted father, a brutal underworld doctor and criminal, curing illnesses doesn't begin to truly rid the common man of their suffering: There are always oppressors, abusers, those who selfishly make lives difficult for others for their own gain. Aak believes that to be a truly good "doctor", he needs to eliminate the root cause of the people's suffering: Criminals that will hurt them. Since his cooperation with Rhodes Island, his views have shifted a bit for the better (understanding people better, finding a good friend that shares his latent curiosity and love for the medical sciences and research in Warfarin), but it's still evident that Aak remains an unstable vat of fluoroantimonic acid waiting to bubble over, if the right trigger is present. He's not particularly powerful, with all his evaluations being "Normal" and "Standard", but his ruthlessness, his knowledge of the underworld, and his deep knowledge of medical sciences do make him quite dangerous despite "my dude"ing you.
Ceobe is the other one that comes to mind. Ceobe basically replicates the experience of having a big dumb loving dog, not just with Doctor, but with others as well, such as her canonical friends Vulcan and Sesa (Sesa being someone that also qualifies imo), and is in general a fun goober that livens up every scene she's in on virtue of, well, being a big dumb loving dog with all that entails: She WILL break into the kitchen even though she knows it's forbidden for her to do this, she WILL steal food, she WILL whimper and apologize, she WILL grow immensely defensive over her loved ones over things like "a loud vacuum cleaner" and WILL act over any perceived threat with maximum power; the entirety of Integrated Strategies 1, Ceobe's Fungimist, comes about because Ceobe gets high on hallucinogenic mushrooms she found in the jungle, and goes apeshit because she imagines this whole scenario where Villains have kidnapped Doctor and only she and whatever friends she can recruit on the way can save them, resulting in her beating the absolute shit out of numerous warrior tribes Dynasty Warriors style. Let's talk about that last part! She beat the absolute shit out of numerous warrior tribes Dynasty Warriors style while high as fuck on shrooms. She can do that! Because Ceobe is actually fucking shredded. Despite being a Funny Dog, Ceobe is a legitimately Arts genius, having no formal training and yet being able to use Arts with no problem, almost instinctively, as well as simply being able to harness pretty much any weapon she touches and empower them further with her Arts. Part of this is definitely because she's VERY Infected, but not even that explains just the sheer magnitude and expertise with which Ceobe seems to use her Arts. And speaking of? She dragged herself, across much of Terra, while incredibly Infected and with no care at all.
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Ceobe, by all rights, should be dead. Not even the Medic Operator that wrote her medical file has a lot of faith, and her Oripathy is explicitly very grave and only getting worse. And even in this state, she dragged herself and the small arsenal strapped to her back across the world.
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Her Physiological Endurance rank of Outstanding is no joke. Keep in mind, this is a rank equivalent to the toughest and most resilient characters we know of, such as Specter and Hoshiguma.
This is all stuff you'll only ever realize about Ceobe if you pay attention, because she's almost exclusively used for comedic relief, but the funny dog is actually a natural archmage and weaponmaster that just won't fucking die, if we were to use more fantasy adjacent terms for her.
There's more (like Sesa) but those two are the ones that jumped to mind.
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horseforeplay · 5 months
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So I’m very autistic about music and I loved how succession made Kendall’s music taste have so much character and be so accurate to who he is and who he thinks he is, which made me start thinking about the other siblings listening to music. I just cannot imagine it. I can’t imagine Roman putting on his little AirPod and opening up a Spotify playlist or putting on posters in his room for a certain thing. The idea of shiv being into drill and grime is extremely funny to me. I think connor tells Alexa to put on slow old Spanish ballads blasting (at an appropriate volume) through every floor of his desert house and Willa wears noise cancelling headphones constantly. I just can’t decide if Roman has an obscenely normal man music taste (like what plays in gyms) or if he actually cares about music. And then I listened to horse foreplay again and I need to make a playlist for it so basically: what do you think Roman would listen to?
incredible message. oh man. for one, connor genuinely seems like a music lover because that’s in line with his situation being the only sibling to genuinely enjoy the spoils of wealth and just stuff generally. he also has that fleetwood mac line at tom’s bachelor party, and famously karaokes a fucking leonard cohen song. love him.
kendall’s music taste is central to his character, we all know what ken’s taste is (or at least i think we do, i have seen some very funny “ken listens to this” mixes. they should resemble the intern-curated obama end-of-year picks LOL). shiv i have no idea about, but i wouldn’t be surprised if she had some appreciation for whatever dad liked if dad ever bothered to point something out. i don’t think she listens to florence + the machine though be serious you guys just see a girl with red hair…………….
my personal read on roman’s whole Deal is that he has the least “life of his own” of the siblings. even his reputation / the rumors about him (that he’s a playboy who loves coke) are the least accurate to his actual behavior and preferences (esp when contrasted with ken’s public takedowns which hurt his feelings precisely Because they’re often true). it’s difficult for me to imagine roman having strong personal taste in….. pretty much anything, even when he sees his choices symbolically (“i want steak” speech in america decides). in the end, roman is most interested in cultivating an image of himself that is going to be the most protective of his true desire for authenticity and connection, but we know that he has no idea what to do with himself when he is confronted with an opportunity to actually “express himself”.
all this to say, it is very difficult for me to imagine roman sincerely enjoying music/art without a level of detachment, irony, or jokey judgement. if he likes certain sounds, i couldn’t see him singing along like kendall in the backseat. maybe a handful of songs are nostalgic for him, maybe some post-hardcore (…. fugazi….. honestly……) or even MAYBE some britpop or eurodance from the european half of his childhood. he wouldn’t allow himself true sentimentality with it though. he certainly knows all of the lyrics to a few songs bc he’s very In the World, esp culturally impactful songs, but he just seems like a guy who fucking hates bohemian raphsody. he knows who the pinball wizard is but i can viscerally feel his frown at hearing the baba o’reilly opener in a shop. he simply would never admit to loving a band, let alone buy a t-shirt! (i think i get a little annoyed generally with assumptions about roman that cast him as even a little bit twee just because he’s silly. look at how he actually dresses. this man would not paint his nails or have a charm on his phone. you’re thinking of kieran culkin!)
anyway this is my fav horse foreplay fanmix by @gotouda just bc it’s bursting with songs that are simply About Romtom. full of stuff me a young millennial gay person listens to so i play it a lot lol. there’s also an unsettled/upsetting undercurrent to some of these choices that matches the tone of the fic PRECISELY!!!! i have no idea how someone would go about building a mix based on romtom AND character taste just bc it is nigh impossible for me to picture roman roy listening to a song BECAUSE it reminds him of tom.
tom on the other hand…………….. that’s elton john, that’s ABBA, that’s broadway original cast recording, that’s george michael, that’s adele. ok
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rainbowmothed · 7 months
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︵︵ MISC. HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANONS
╰ ⋯ ➢ just some random hcs i thought of off the top of my head!! ♡ as always, reblogs and likes appreciated! includes both main cast and heaven hcs. :3
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𝜚 ₎ MAIN CAST HCS
Vaggie says stuff like “rad,” “dude,” etcetera unironically and definitely gets made fun of for it. Mostly by Cherri and Angel– Pentious says it is ‘hashtag trending awesome sauce.’
Vaggie sets 6 alarms in the morning, all with custom minute intervals between the snooze alarms to make SURE she doesn't sleep through it. Charlie doesn't mind, though, mainly because she wakes up at four in the morning to work on projects anyway.
Charlie has made playlists for everyone in the hotel on hell's equivalent of spotify; Vaggie's is the most well thought out, but they all describe them very well. Alastor never listens to it due to his dislike for modern technology/apps, but he appreciates it– or at least acts like he does– nonetheless.
Charlie definitely rides on Alastor's shoulders like a little kid bro IDC WHAT U SAY
Vaggie has cried ONCE in front of the rest of the hotel after being genuinely dogged on repeatedly on one of the worst days of her life, and they all just stared at her in shock. They hate on her so much because it never impacts her– or so they think so, because Vaggie always shrugs it off. They refuse to talk about it.
Vaggie's spice tolerance is unmatched.
Each night, Charlie visits Pentious’ memorial and wraps a weighted blanket around it, saying that maybe it'd remind him of the Egg Bois and the way they snuggled around him in the afterlife.
Vaggie is a huge Hunger Games fan. 90% of her personality derives from Katniss Everdeen.
Adding onto the last one, if Charlie and Vaggie were to have a child, I feel like it'd have the personality of Lucy Gray Baird.
Niffty definitely writes strange fanfiction. Also has BL as her header on the Hell's equivalent of Twitter. She's a little twisted, but we love her.
Cherri is an absolute menace. That is the best word to describe her.
Angel and Cherri did the “screaming in public restrooms” prank once.
Everyone assumed Charlie was mid-20s until she dropped the bomb that she's over 200 years old. They were all flabbergasted (minus Vaggie, who already knew. Angel also called her a “gilf lover.”)
Angel asked Vaggie about her body count once to tick her off, and she answered “around 1,000 or so, roughly estimated,” thinking he meant kill count. Charlie was shook.
Vaggie is a Paramore, Flyleaf, Evanescence, etcetera fan. Proud listener to 2000s emo girl music.
Charlie's guilty pleasure is punk/metal/rock music. She says she only listens to “Taylor Swift and musicals,” but she has a hidden playlist with KORN, PTV, and all of those bands on it.
Angel wakes Husk up by blasting Ayesha Erotica songs into his ear occasionally since Husk is a heavy sleeper and refuses to get up sometimes.
Pentious calls himself a “semi-proud father of the Egg Bois.”
Charlie ran a hate page about Katie Killjoy. She has since moved on from it... probably.
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𝜚 ₎ HEAVEN HCS
Vaggie definitely played about 100 sports back in Heaven. Fencing, soccer, and, bare with me here, she definitely did ballet. She refuses to admit so, however.
The exorcists actually aren't brought into the world as adults. Instead, they're raised by volunteer parents of Heaven their entire lives, starting fighting training at age 6 or so. They claim that “children's brains are easier to mold.” Basically, they're taught to be murder weapons from a very, very young age. It's also instinctive, but it's the training that truly brings it out.
Each exterminator is based on a different bird breed, but the most common are eagles, falcons, hawks, and generally predatory avians.
The Exterminators are also very fast flyers, and they establish the quickest flyers through racing. Vaggie was formerly the fastest until she was cast down to Hell. Now, the fastest is Lute.
Adam also referees these races, and instead of a gun or whistle to start them off, he uses his guitar.
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saltydkdan · 1 year
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Thoughts on Strohiem? (From Jojo)
It’s… rough. I have OPINIONS ABOUT HIM.
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For those unaware, or have forgotten. This particular ask is about the character of Rudol von Stroheim from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. A Nazi Major that is introduced in Part 2 of the series. I have always wanted a proper moment to spotlight how much I dislike this character. And not just how I dislike him as a character, but how I dislike his general inclusion in the story as well.
Listen, I LOVE this series. But even I have my limits. It’s because I love it so much that I critique aspects like this in the first place.
Warning, I’m about to word vomit about this because I’ve been DYING to talk about this somewhere.
BIG DISCLAIMER: These are my thoughts and mine alone. I know there’s a lot of… interesting anime fans out there that might disagree. I’m not here to debate on stuff like this, I don’t want to hear your contradictory thoughts on the subject. If I see a single person say I’m “virtue signaling” by saying I don’t like the Jojo Nazi character, I am going to mail you a pipe bomb (in the hit game Minecraft for Windows PCs)
Stroheim’s existence (or at least, how he currently exists in the story) is not handled all that well in my opinion. Like… not at all. I like to poke fun at it, but I genuinely think Araki fumbled the bag so hard with Stroheim and it's more and more unbelievable the more I think about it over time.
No matter how you shake it, Araki fully wrote a historically accurate Nazi character into Battle Tendency and proceeded to give him a redemption arc and make him a member of the supporting cast. Now of course, I know that Japan has a fascination with a lot of German stuff, so within that context I can kind of get why he exists in the way that he does, but it just feels weird and in bad taste.
Contextually, it makes sense. Do I like it? No. No I do not.
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To address the elephant in the room, I get it. Araki really loves to write evil villain characters, and then having them be redeemed, or switch over to the hero's side after a certain point. I actually really enjoy this trope especially in Jojo! It’s one of my favorites. Especially how it’s handled in Part 4: Diamond is Unbreakable.
However, writing a redemption storyline for characters like Okuyasu and Rohan is fundamentally different from writing one for Stroheim.
First and most obviously, unlike other characters, Stroheim’s whole character is based on an actual real life totalitarian extremist hate group who committed horrible atrocities across history (and still does to this day).
As if that wasn’t enough, he quite LITERALLY commits horrible atrocities ON SCREEN. Sacrificing an entire room of innocent people to Santana (the first of the Pillar Men) so that the German’s can awaken and study him in their secret lab.
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Everything about Stroheim feels like it’s very intentional at the start. He is clearly set as a villain from the beginning, and it works fine. However once he self-immolates and blows himself up to destroy Santana, the story seems to continuously frame him more and more as an ally/hero from that point onward.
After he returns with his cyborg body, the fact that he’s a Nazi suddenly takes a back seat and now he’s continuously just framed as a “patriotic” soldier. Legit, the moment after he shows back up, Joseph internally comments on how he’s “not exactly a bad guy”.
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Some people will argue on how it’s a bit more complicated than that, since Joseph also thinks about how he dislikes that he’s a German Soldier. But directly after this, he also states how he’s still happy Stroheim isn’t dead. If anything, from this point onward Joseph acts towards Storheim in a similar way to how he acts towards Caeser. Even if they aren’t best friends, Joseph still has positive feelings towards Stroheim, and I hateeeee that.
In the anime, they even make sure to call him a “German Soldier” and not a Nazi. The avoidance of that word really struck me as them trying to avoid that subject because they knew the way the character was treated was strange.
So anyway, as I was trying to say. Redeeming villain characters is one thing, but redeeming a villain character that is straight up a literal Nazi is something else entirely. Especially when like, not to nitpick, but Stroheim never walks back the more extremist beliefs that he for sure subscribes to.
-And if you’re one of those weirdos who tries to make a point by saying “well, he never outright says what he actually believes in! Maybe he is just fighting for Germany for his own reasons.”
My dude, he’s literally described as a “Patrotic Nazi”. What the fuck do yoU THINK HE BELIEVES IN?
Also as a final addition to this rant, I also don’t quite like how weirdly normalized that Araki makes the existence of “german soldiers” in his story even outside of Stroheim. Nazi’s are weirdly commonplace throughout the plot, and while it contextually makes sense since they kicked off the main conflict, they are almost always weirdly painted as neutral or even straight up good guys (after the Santana fight). Which is just really strange to me.
Like bruh, you mean to tell me that Caeser fucking Zeppeli is casually frieNDS WITH ONE OF THEM? BE FUCKIN FR ARAKI LOL
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It also sucks how Stroheim is so increasingly present leading up to the final act. Like MAN, GET THIS MOTHERFUCKER OFF THE SCREEN.
The only good thing about the inclusion of Nazi’s after Stroheim’s initial sacrifice, is that we get to see the Pillar Man murk a shit ton of them on screen. Like, fuck yeah dude. A great way to power scale and show how powerful the Pillar Men are as antagonists, without me feeling bad that they killed a bunch of people to do so.
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Anyway, that’s my 2 cents that nobody asked for. I still LOVE Jojo, I think it’s a masterpiece of its genre, but it’s because of my intense love for it that I criticize it’s missteps so heavily. I hope that my wording on this post is done well, I had to re-draft it a second time after accidentally deleting it once, so I have a feeling it’ll come off a bit scrambled.
That being said, thanks for the Ask!
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bheska · 20 days
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Last week there was a (dumb) discourse on xwitter about Percy's appearence on the tv show. And it makes me mad that there are people hating on the kids actors and being general assholes for all the obvious reasons, but also because it makes it impossible to criticize the show without someone either a) putting you on the same level as these losers or b) agreeing with you but in the wrong way (the forementioned assholes)
But then people defend the cast by making posts like "Walker makes so much sense as Percy, actually, because *checks notes* surfer stereotypes and ocean is blue, Percy should've been blond, blue-eyed boy all along uwu." Which is harmless, I guess, and no sane person should take this as bait to hate on a 15yo boy who's just doing his job, but really? I thought the point was that he embodies the character regardless of what he looks like and thats what matters.
And look, Rick is full of shit, but I believe that these actors were chosen because they really were the best of the bunch. And I can see that, okay? I do. I've watched interviews, how they talk about the books and their characters, I've seen videos and compilations and edits of how they interact. And until the season 1 aired, I believed we were getting a great adaptation. Made me more sad than angry that we got a boring one instead.
So when I say that show!Percy has his personality watered down to maybe 30%, I'm not criticizing Walker. When I say that show!Grover was reduced to a babysitter, that his guilt over Thalia, his goal of finding Pan, and his love for the nature did not translate well I'm not criticizing Aryan. And when I say show!Annabeth was greatly reduced from this lovely gremlin who is emotional, proud, kind, smart and fiercely loving to the Stoic Smart Girl™ and the only emotion she was allowed to show was annoyance and distress, I'm not criticizing Leah. I'm criticizing the writing. Because the show has problems beyond the characters, it has pacing issues, lighting issues, editing issues.
And there is still time to make it good. I have hope for season 2, maybe the writers will listen to criticism, maybe they found their footing, maybe the episodes will be a little longer and we'll have time for suspense and action and funny moments before uncerimoniously cutting to black. Just don't make me settle for a mediocre show when we all know they have all the tools to make it great
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