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mjolnir-steve · 3 years

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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superrman · 4 years

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I got a couple asks about my reply to an ask where I said that I acknowledge cop propaganda in procedural’s, and believe that everyone falls for it, while still acknowledging that I have enjoyed those shows. More than one ask said they are fully aware of the propaganda and so they can still watch those said shows, this is something I want to expand on because No one is above falling for propaganda.

I have loved and watched cop shows since I was 12, and I also have studied propaganda academically for half a decade, and that is why I can say with certainty you have internalized and fallen for propaganda within cop shows.

It is important to note that cop shows are designed with the aid of professional police for this exact purpose, they are insanely important to the normalization of behaviours of police, and justifying their actions, because you as an audience emotionally connect with the characters.

There are many things that have circulated around tumblr that have acknowledged certain forms of propaganda - the continuous use of violence, in a way that claims that the police must in many cases resort to violence, Trevor Noah did a great small clip showing how many cop shows do this. On top of that the villainization of internal affairs and the entire defence system, claiming public defenders are moronic and don’t defend their clients well, which in turn makes people afraid to turn to public defenders, which in turn results in people not asking for a lawyer, and at the same time paint defence attorneys as evil as well, and an impediment to justice which makes people dislike lawyers in general.

These are all important functions of the propaganda system as it justifies many actions of cops, but there are so many layers of propaganda, with hundreds of cop shows, all with police consultants, all employing underhanded tactics and specific messaging impacts you, below is a small list of things I either personally have internalized or know people have internalized. In brackets I mention just a couple shows I have seen this on, keep in mind many shows do this and they all tend to overlap

1. We as a society all agree that murder is wrong, but how many times in a cop show have you rooted for the police to get away with murder? How many times has the protagonist killed someone for personal reasons? They may find a way to kill said individual in the line of duty and that is legal, and or in many cases personally hunt them down and commit murder, and then the story line is about them getting away with murder, but at the same time many story lines in the same series say no one has a justifiable reason for murder, and they may even arrest someone for the same reason as they killed someone.

This teaches the audience that you can’t kill for abuse, country, cause, or revenge, but the police can and should kill, and if they do kill it was only for a valid reason

(NCIS, NCIS LA, The Mentalist)

2. The ‘red tape’ and intense scrutiny of police shootings is the worst, and harmful for the police, in general the scrutiny of all of the measures meant to prevent police violence and harassment of citizens is hindering the police. How many shows have you watched where the main character scoffs at the idea of mandatory counselling post a shooting, or is angry by the idea of having to justify why they took a shot and killed a man

(Rookie Blue, Cold Case, Hawaii 5-0)

3. The police are underpaid and lack the funds for the necessary policing measures. This one in particular I internalized to the extreme, I have always held the false assumption that police are underfunded like all of the other services they equate themselves too - but the police departments have more than enough funds as the protests have revealed. Yet, every cop show depicts a scene of complaining about budget cuts, lack of funds, cannot pursue a case because of budget cuts. On top of that any cop that gets caught stealing is justified because if he was paid fairly, he wouldn’t have to do that.

(Castle, Lucifer, Brooklyn Nine Nine)

4. The police can’t save ‘everyone’ in the context of the most vulnerable of society drug addicts, sex workers, the mentality ill, the sad reality is that some people ‘don’t want help’ - it says societal problems are unsolvable not that the police are not qualified or effective in solving society problems but even then there is a plucky do good cop not yet jaded that will try and try to save people, but eventually have to come to a hard realization you can’t save everyone

(Perception, Criminal Minds, Law and Order SVU)

5. The police always work with experts in the field, have the best technology and moreover, experts will want to work tirelessly for the police or the police themselves are geniuses- this is not the case, in fact in many cases police incompetence and ignoring experts leads to false convictions

(Bones, Rizzoli & Isles, all the CSI, Criminal Minds)

But the most malicious form of propaganda is the way in which police procedurals acknowledge the real world political climate and use the criticism as a way to bolster the police, by this I mean, so many cop shows will have an episode of focusing on a corrupt cop, or a civil rights activist wrongfully arrested, wrongful conviction in general, and the narrative will show outrage throughout the system, cops all banning together to undo this injustice, but with enough resistance from some bad apples to make it seem as if they acknowledge the system is not fully functional but reinforces to the audience that many cops can and do fight the system to get the wrongfully accused out of prison, to protect civil liberties and that cops do care and will willingly fight their own to do it .

Moreover, this is shown in the context of the importance of police brotherhood. Being a cop is always more than a job it’s a lifestyle, you can’t stop being a cop, and it’s a part of your identity, so its extra heroic that the protagonist challenged the corrupt cop, it’s as if he or she turned on his own family to do what is right.

There are always episodes about going after the rich and politically connected and how no matter what the protagonist will do what’s right and fight against the system to get justice for a poor, or poc , or down on their luck victim, it teaches us that even though in the news cops might not be able to stop all of the big evil rich people, Kate Beckett or Jake Peralta is out their fighting the fight, trying to take on corporations, it teaches us to go on faith that the police are separate from the corrupt system, and will try to take on politicians and corporations rather than the reality of them working for those same people

Finally, so many cop shows have minorities and women leading the charge to challenge the old guard, usually with the new era of white men, that laugh at the police brutality and incompetence of older generations. It’s hard to ignore the damage the police have done, but every show simply disregards this with a change in the vanguard, newer cops are immune to racism, classicism and agree older cops used to break the rules and where more corrupt but now that isn’t the case. It’s meant to undermine all of the arguments against police, think about how many people agree that the police during the civil rights movement of the 1960s were bad, or the police that co-operated with drug dealers were terrible but no more, cops now are much more ethical.

Propaganda is dangerous, because it is continuous and repetitive, it is subtle and seeps into your life, you internalize things because we all consume media for enjoyment not to subject it to academic rigour, and that's how they get you to sympathize and feel for cops, we constantly watch stories of brave souls putting their lives on the line for us, and of course we want to believe that this is a real life story and reflective of most cops, but we need to realize now that this is not the case in reality, and its not just a few bad apples, but a system that is broken beyond repair, who relied on the entertainment industry to spread and maintain the false face of the police industry to avoid and undermine criticism.

Just remember No one is above falling for propaganda

#police brutality #cop propaganda #propaganda #the most dangerous cop shows are the progressive ones

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arlertwifey · 3 years

Text

snk cast x gn!reader + cute summertime romance

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, PLEASE!

☼ — ft. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Levi, Hanji, & Erwin (all characters are 18+)

☼ — genre: pure fluff + gn!reader x character, warnings: mentions of vandalism/petty crime, alcohol mentions

☼ — a/n: please enjoy my first snk x reader content :)

E R E N

Fills his time with a weird mix of volunteering around the city and committing blatant acts of vandalism

He spends his days helping out at the youth shelter and nights scribbling graffiti anywhere he can find a spot. Takes you to spray-paint every underpass you come across

Unnaturally good at arcade games and wins you lots of little random plushies from the claw machines. Your favorite is an angry-looking brown bear that you can’t help but think resembles him

Loves to stay up late and discover new parts of the city with you. Has a bad habit of falling asleep on your shoulder wherever you are though, when he finally runs out of energy

Even though he tries to play it off like he’s too cool for them, insists that you two take cute photobooth pictures together and keeps his favorite of them in his wallet

A R M I N

Practically lives at the beach during the summer. The two of you plan out your days there in advance so your able to visit the different tide pools and see various sea creatures.

Has a strong sweet tooth. He’s a huge fan of any type of frozen treat, but is extremely partial to slushies. In at least half the pictures you get of your summertime adventures, his mouth is stained teal from the blue-raspberry flavor he always buys.

Gets surprisingly tan during the summer, due to the fact that he’s outside whenever possible. Even when studying, he prefers to do so at parks around where he lives rather than indoors. His hair bleaches out a little further as well.

Willing to go to parties with you when the two of you are invited by mutual friends, but tends to slip outside to the porch after the first hour. More often than not, the two of you wind up ditching all together and heading off to find someplace to get late night food.

He brings you to visit his grandfather during the summertime and the two of you help him out with repairs around the house. Being around the two people he loves the most brings out Armin’s talkative side and the three of you spend your vacation days swapping stories over glasses of iced tea.

M I K A S A

Busy during the summer, so you can’t meet as much as would like

Part of her gym’s regional kickboxing team and helps teach part time. You go to all her matches and cheer till your voice gives out. She tells you that you don’t have to come, but secretly is so, so grateful that you do

On days when you’re both free, you try out all the best brunch places in the city. Mikasa prefers small family-owned businesses. The two of you quickly become regulars at your favorite spots

Sends you voice messages when you are apart ever since you said that you liked to hear her voice. She’s adorably awkward in them, usually just telling you about whatever she’s doing at the time and how much she misses you

Gets misty-eyed when you show up at the airport with flowers for her when she gets back home. Squeezes you till your out of breath and lifts off the ground a little bit when you hug again after your time apart.

J E A N

The actual best at planning a fun day full of activities

Busts his ass working at a couple part time jobs most days, but makes up for how busy is by making sure you two have the best possible time and do the most when you’re together

The type to have a bucket list for all the different activities he thinks you guys should do together. He puts a lot of effort into creating it with you. The two of you decorate two matching posters so that each of you has a copy.

A little bit of a sucker for cliches: ice cream dates and visiting waterparks. He’s a romantic at heart and with you he feels like he can finally participate in all the classic lovey-dovey activities couples do.

One of those people who acts like an influencer despite the fact that he’s only followed by family and friends. Takes super high quality pics of you so he can brag about how great his s/o is. Took a few photography classes in college and it shows. Every photo he takes of you looks amazing because you can tell just how enamored he is with you.

King of matching couple fits. Loves when the two of you wear coordinating colors or even just similar accessories.

L E V I

Not a fan of hot weather, so prefers to hang out in the evenings or early mornings when it’s cooler (which works well with the fact that he has to work most days).

Has no clue what to do during the summer, besides what you two always do, but does his best

You two go for early morning runs at his suggestion and then get breakfast afterwards. There’s a smoothie place down the block from the park that you frequent, with different local fruit specials each week.

He brings you to his favorite tea shop and you two slowly drink your way through their summer refresher menu throughout the season. You learn

Is willing to go to the beach, but be prepared to cover the man with sunscreen, because he burns. Since he knows that he won’t encounter anyone from work, he sometimes wears a large sunhat for extra UV protection.

When your vacation time finally lines up, the two of you get out of the city and head to the charming town where his mother lives. You get to help Kuchel in her garden and listen to her stories about adorable young Levi.

While he’s not extremely enthusiastic about summer as a season, he does find it far more enjoyable when he gets to spend it with you

H A N J I

Lives for traveling during the summer months, half for fun and half for their work as part of an anthropological research team. Whenever they can’t bring you along, expect lots of silly, cheesy postcards and many late night phone calls.

Thinks that camping is an absolute must. You two go on hikes together to find the best places to camp. Teaches you all sorts of cool facts about the different areas you are in. Likes when the two of you get “lost” and have to navigate back with a compass (and a park map as backup).

Makes their own homemade juice blends (some better than others) and freezes them into popsicles. Brings you them and other snacks when you’re working.

Stays up late with you and points out different constellations while you drink hot cocoa on the rooftop of their apartment building. While you don’t understand everything they are explaining to you, you love to watch their excited expression and enthusiasm as they tell you all about the world.

E R W I N

Glamorous cultural events are Erwin’s favorite part of the summertime  Expect to to be brought to opening ceremonies, christenings of cruise ships, and wine tastings

Despite the fancy events, Erwin makes sure you don’t feel too out of place by spending the evenings shit talking the other guests with you, and trying to guess who is sleeping with who and who is going to get drunk and ruin the evening

Insists that you get out of the city as often as possible, so expect a lot of weekend getaways

As much as he likes to do things with you, he can also appreciate an afternoon spent drinking sangria and reading by the poolside (a private pool, of course. He can’t resist asking you to put sunblock on his back (half because he actually needs the help, half just to see you blush at the request).

Owns a sleek vintage convertible that he’s only able to drive in the warmer months. Likes to pick you up from work in it while still dressed in his impeccably sharp suit from the office, just to see the looks on your coworkers faces

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daryldamnson · 3 years

Text

Lemons, Limes, and Tomatoes

Pairing: Blair Waldorf X Dan Humphrey

Summary: She finds it hard to describe. Realising she likes Dan Humphrey.

Word count: 400 and something

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She finds it hard to describe. Realising she likes Dan Humphrey. Lonely Boy. Serena’s side-project in the slums.

It’s like telling everyone (and yourself) how much you hate tomatoes. Have you ever actually tried liking one? No. Of course not - why would you when you can just tell you don’t like them? But then one day a slice appears in your salad. What harm can one slice do? You take it down with a few lettuce leaves and a dollop of non-fat, low-sodium mayo. That wasn’t so bad. What was the big deal all about?

And all of a sudden you find yourself asking for extra tomatoes. Seeking them out. And on the days you don’t get any… You miss them. Which is crazy, of course, because you don’t even like tomatoes. Of course you don’t, because they’re disgusting, and weird, and from Brooklyn, and, yes, maybe they make a compelling debate partner, and, okay, they smelled really nice that time you got trapped in a busy elevator together, and maybe you get a warm feeling at that little humorous glint in their eyes when you say something that’s supposed to be an insult, but that doesn’t mean you like them. Tomatoes, obviously.

It’s just wrong. Like pairing a lemon yellow handbag with lime green shoes. Do they both technically fit into similar groupings (smartest in their classes, a love of the classics, a soft spot for certain animal documentaries, a superiority complex that covers a multitude of insecurities)? Yes, perhaps they do. But that doesn’t mean they should be together. Worn together, that is - the handbag and shoes, obviously.

And maybe the lime green shoes play on her mind sometimes, late at night, when she's having trouble sleeping. Maybe she replays their debates over Impressionist artists (“Humphrey, I swear to God if you defame Degas’ name one more time by calling them ‘the ballerina paintings’ I will stab this pencil straight through your hand”), or maybe she thinks about their mutual enjoyment of classic French cinema (“Come on, Waldorf, even you have to admit that Les Yeux sans visage was a masterpiece in horrific storytelling”), but that doesn’t mean anything.

Except that maybe they’re a brilliant conversationalist with a vast range in cinematic preferences and lots of opinions on literature who actually values her views on things and maybe has a nice laugh that makes her chest tingle in a way she hasn’t really felt in a long time, and, okay, so maybe it does mean something...

She finds it hard to describe. Realising she likes Dan Humphrey. So she pretends she doesn’t.

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Thanks for dropping in and giving this a read! I haven't written anything in 1.5+ years and I haven't finished anything in even longer, so this was a cathartic little release of feelings about dair I've had pent up for a long time. Will I ever finish the much longer dair fic I have started? Who knows. But at least I'll always have this.

Let me know if you enjoyed it because since it's been so long since I shared any of my writing I'm feeling a little self-conscious and like I need the reassurance.

Thanks all! x

#dair #dair fanfic #dan humphrey x blair waldorf #dan humphrey/blair waldorf #dair fanfiction #dair imagine #gossip girl #gossip girl fanfic #gossip girl fanfiction #blair waldorf x dan humphrey #blair waldorf/dan humphrey #dan humphrey/blair waldorf fanfiction #dan humphrey/blair waldorf fanfic #blair waldorf/dan humphrey fanfic #blair waldorf/dan humphrey fanfiction #blair walforf x dan humphrey fanfic #blair waldorf x dan humphrey fanfiction

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lilsuzn · 3 years

Text

MLQC Gavin - Fluff abc headcanons

So by the popular demand - I am back.

Just kidding. No one was asking.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: None (the reader is gender neutral)

Dedication: @marytheredqueen

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

You need to trust me when I tell you that Gavin had indeed tried to find at least one thing he could dislike about you. Many times.

Yet your body seems to have no flaws. He checked quite a few times at this point.

Your heart is pure. Loving. Patient. Loyal.

Whenever you’re at his side… The world is at peace. No pain exists, nor does suffering.

You are his purpose. You are his equilibrium. Nothing matters as long as he can be by your side.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Your beautiful eyes.

There will never be anything more beautiful than the way they shine before your lips meet in a loving kiss.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Him on his back.

You in his arms. Laying on top of him.

Your head rests on his chest, no matter if it’s your front, side or back that presses against his muscular torso - it’s perfect.

He also likes the smell of your shampoo… it’s just intoxicating for him.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He likes doing things outside with you.

Attending festivals, engaging in new, interesting sports, indulging in some street food or picnics.

He’s a sucker for long, romantic walks too, soooooo

He takes you out to the festival. Buys all kinds of yummy food for both of you to share. Wins you an enormous plushie and then carries it around for you. While holding your hand. Tightly.

Then takes you for a night stroll, to then kiss you under the sky full of stars before you turn back.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He only feels like he can really express himself around you - so it will get intense. In all the best ways.

Gavin doesn’t shy away with showing you his affection, even if he tends to have a slight problem with voicing it sometimes.

His expression softness, his fingers brush delicate circles on your skin.

He doesn’t need to say anything. You know.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Oh he really, really wants a family.

Two kids… or maybe more.

A dog for them, maybe.

House with a big garden and a treehouse.

He wants to play and fool around with his kids. Put them to bed. Support them. Be proud of them… Everything his father never did.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

When you want something, no matter how silly it might be - it’s yours.

Don’t even make me start on what you need.

Because there are very little things (and all of them are about you) that could make him happier than seeing you happy because of what he gave you.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

It's not optional.

There will be hands holding whenever it's possible.

It’s as much for your safety as it is for his comfort.

All these guys with eyes better don’t use them to stare at you.

See this hand? This beautiful gem of a person is with ME.

Likes to hold your hand while snuggling on a couch. Or in bed while falling asleep.

Holding hands is like a physical projection of the bond that’s between the two of you - and he loves it.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

He would blame himself. No matter what. It might be ridiculous, but he would always feel guilty for not preventing it from happening.

Wouldn’t leave your side. Would help you with anything and everything.

If there’s a concrete person or a group of people that caused your harm... Insert a very, very angry and strong bird cop with a gun.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

You would have a light-hearted relationship in which he would tease you from time to time and he wouldn’t be mad if you did the same to him.

However he’s not one to prank you. He would find no enjoyment in it.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Gavin loves to be kissed and he loves to kiss. All over your face. All over your body.

Any kisses are game. Slow and passionate ones. Heated ones. Sweet, delicate, loving, appreciating - he loves them all as long as he can share them with you.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Acts of service - He looooves to spoil his lovely sweetheart (you) this way. Wants to bring you food, tidy up your apartment for you, brush your hair, paint your nails… Just ask him and he will do it. Whatever it is. And then he will do things on his own initiative, because he likes to surprise you. You smile so beautifully when he does…...

Gifts - He likes gift giving as I already mentioned in G, but it’s no indication of love to him. He just enjoys your reactions. Prefers to show his love differently.

Physical touch - His number one and you can not convince me it is not. He’s a snuggly bear who loves kisses. You are just so soft and warm and he loves you sosososososo much. Would never want to hold this way any other. His physical affection is something reserved only for you.

Quality time - see Q.

Words of affirmation - Gavin is not very good with words. Not that he can’t be when he wants to, but he kinda doesn’t want to most of the time. It’s uncomfortable. He’s feeling unconfident doing so. He prefers other ways, but when he does speak up… It’s the most adorable and loving thing you will ever hear in your life.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

It was your first 'real' date, but even though you both confessed love to each other, you weren't a ‘official’ couple yet.

At least there was no proper act of becoming a one.

You walk through the park on an evening of a chilly fall. Not many people in sight.

You just finished a lovely dinner date. Gavin even bought you a dessert to share.

And it just felt right. Everything.

The way your fingers were laced. How you both couldn't spot peeping at each other.

"Will you be my girlfriend Y/N? Please?"

He sure was pretty sure you wouldn't deny him, but he didn't expect you to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him the way you did.

"Nothing could ever make me happier than that, Gavin."

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

He’s scared of losing you.

Either by you walking away from him after discovering that you “deserve so much better”

Or by not being alert enough to protect you…

Surely, he would prefer the first option, but he can’t deny that both would hit him harder than anything else ever could.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

Gavin is a little bit of an odd duck in general, but I think he has one major weirdness about him.

I would call it… A Keanu Reeves complex.

He doesn’t like compliments. Always feels like they’re far from true, because he always feels like he’s not enough and maybe even never will be.

Which is so far from true.

Like, Vivi, come on! You’re so freakin perfect!

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

He usually calls you simply by your name, but the boy has his moments.

Moments when he can help but call you all sorts of the cutest names.

Little angel, starry eyes, little munchkin along with the classics like honey, babe, sweetheart, treasure and my precious.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

How?

Often.

Intensely.

Calmly.

Comfortably.

Restlessly.

He just wants to be by your side. Any. Chance. He. Gets.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Moonlight by Ariana Grande

Because Gavin’s sweet like candy, but he’s such a man...

Or A Drop In The Ocean by Ron Pope

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Not at all. At least at first.

He gets better with time, but you still need to ask for it. He would never just come to you to lean on your shoulder and tell you what troubles him.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Well. A lot.

Because of what I say in X below.

He just assumes that you don’t reciprocate his feelings, because he doesn’t deserve it.

He eventually tells you about his feelings under your insistent questions regarding the subject.

And then? After he finally tells you?

That’s when it escalates quickly.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

At first he tries to keep it inside. Not let you see… But it’s pretty obvious since he doesn’t talk to you. Barely throws any acknowledgment your way.

It would take quite some convincing for him to tell you what’s wrong.

Unless it’s jealousy that is a reason behind his anger. Then he will show you just how upset he is…

Not necessary in a bad way, tho...

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’s very proud of you. Always.

Even when you think you’re a failure, he still recognizes how hard you work and how smart you are.

And he also prides himself for earning love of a woman as wonderful as you.

But he’s not a show off. He doesn’t like to be in a center of attention. He doesn’t care for compliments or recognition.

He knows how wonderful you are and that’s all that matters to him.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Well, it goes without saying.

Yes. Obviously.

This is Gavin. He does it actively throughout the whole story like it’s the only thing he knows.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

He’s not an expert in emotions.

He gave MC a blood stained letter and was surprised she was troubled by that.

Okay, let’s not sugar coat it - he’s not good at it at all. I said it.

I’m sorry. I wish it was different for you Vivi.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

I think in Gavin’s case it would be no kneeling with a ring type of thing, because he personally sees no value of that.

Of course, he would if you told him that that’s what you want, but if you don’t…

It would be a beautiful, summer evening. The both of you watching a beautiful sunset from the rooftop of a high building.

Last months you spent together were absolutely wonderful. Life with you by his side was much happier than Gavin could ever dream of… And the way the golden sunlight graces your skin is so, so beautiful.

It wasn’t the first time the thought crossed the bird cop’s mind. He caught himself thinking about it more and more often as your relationship progressed… And before he knew it, the words left his lips.

At first you were sure you must have misheard, so you asked him to repeat. And he did.

His beautiful eyes glimmered with so much love… just as much as you felt for him.

How could you say no to that gorgeous man that adores you so much?

And after that, expect to someday come back home to find the most beautiful and meaningful ring in the world waiting for you to wear it.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Gavin is a man who enjoys simple things in life.

He likes to cozy up with you on a couch on his birthday.

Watch a sunrise and drink cocoa with you on Christmas.

He obviously enjoys various sports, especially if he can enjoy them with you.

But what really, really makes him perfectly calm? Driving Sparky with your hands around his ways and your chest pressed against his back.

The feeling of freedom mixed the warmth of your closeness… how could anyone ask for more?

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fluff #mlqc gavin #mlqc headcanon #mlqc hc #mlqc gavin bai

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abittersweetsongforyou · 3 years

Text

wtfock fic recs part 1

okay so some points

im sorry about the spacing but i cant be bothered to fix it, im sorry if i missed anything and i hope this was helpful

the classics (v popular, many kudos)

I Didn't Want To Share My Boyfriend Anymore by teen_content_queen So He's Happy by Masterless rescue my heart by themoongirl go and hold that lightning by themoongirl i've learned to lose you (can't afford to) by petitepeach and my love life waits by petitepeach Truth by MsAshlyjudd8 Carry You by clarecas Are You Jealous Or Are You Sulking? by teen_content_queen Sick Day by teen_content_queen can i try again? by lamourestout Floating in a most peculiar way by skamsnake rotten work by aholynight run and score by aurorawinds

Unattainable by sincerelysobbe

canon divergence/missing scenes/fix-its

woensdag 21:21 (redux) by eliottamoureux - the post first kiss that sander deserved living life and loving boys by TheGlassesPredicament - post hate crime, milan and our boys :( but :) all we can do is keep breathing by aletterinthenameofsanity - sander is homeless explanation Bringing A Boy Home by ForeverInIdle - Sander takes Robbe to meet his mother watch myself watchin' you by vitane - robbes crush on sander developing during the beach trip hey wolf, there's lions in here (hey wold, just see there's no fear) by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - sanders perspective of ohn Rebel Rebel by skamsnake - sanders perspective on trying to get robbe to fall in love with him on the beach trip In which Sander and Robbe emigrate from Robbe's bedroom by orphan_account zaterdag 22:02 by wasteourdaysdreaming - sander wants to be with robbe diminuendo by noobishere - sander at the flatshare after robbe leaves for his exam and I know what you're feeling ('cause I feel it as well) by nothingbutniall - kissing in the tunnel a warning sign by themoongirl - sanders perspective after he ran out of the hotel reunited by themoongirl - reimagined ohn you don't even know who i am by lamourestout - robbe and sander getting to know each other take these broken wings and learn to fly by ladypeaceful - the hate crime gonna build you up (gonna help you believe, honey) by ladypeaceful - robbe takes sander to meet his mama

the broers

being assholes fucking asshole. by richietrashmouthtozier - jens is a dick and robbe is tired and sad The Familiar, Foreign, or Both by TOZ1ER - robbe grew apart from the broers by then he runs into them in the supermarket oké, so? by severegas4 - moyo is a dick being mostly good friends jahsdaj by the way by TheGlassesPredicament - robbe has been dating sander and is tired of hiding it Now I'm In It by cicelsticks - sander on a broers holiday, there's only one bed, and pining Low Volume by clubstocrews23 - sander is down but robbe is there for him a teenage manual on breathing by merengue - robbe comes out to jens, this one is seriously so good Fun Get Away by Masterless - jens doesnt like sander but he's a good friend

wtFOCK - Moyo season 4 by Createdforyou - screenplay style moyo season 4 written by some lovely people and very well done, even if screenplay isn't your thing i highly suggest trying it

romcom type aus that make my heart all fuzzy

Croissants by bruisingknees - sander works at a bakery, robbe is a customer, flirting ensues its an unrequited love by eggsntoast - sander works at a museum and robbe keeps visiting The finest of the meadow by allforyoumylove - two boys meet in a meadow Coffee and Croques by peaceoutofthepieces - barista!sander and barista!eliott we love to see it

My hand around the base of your holy neck by allforyoumylove - friends with benefits and we all know how that turns out

Come closer I'll give you all my love by Createdforyou - fake dating au babyyy

Christmas Dreams by Createdforyou - they're coworkers and its christmas! tell me that doesnt scream romcom

careless in its choosing by noobishere - they meet in a club its very cute

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind by nbrook - friends to lovers and its christmas and robbes boyfriend sucks

just friends by sincerelysobbe - friends with benefits with much pining

But darling, love is passing by by Createdforyou - barista!sander i mean who doesnt love barista!sander and strangers to friends to lovers

fun and funky aus that just hit

Let's Dance by msleviss- Sander is a DJ we love to see it our camp of dreams by aurorawinds - a summer camp au Falling For You by silver_etoile - soccer au babyyyyy Seek Only Love by iwritetropesnottragedies(recklesslee) - Sander goes to Robbe's highschool Jij Verliest by sincerelysobbe - robbe is a streamer and he deserves a nice boyfriend aka sander the blood of both is my limbo by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - robbe is an angel and sander is a demon its fucking awesome i'm slowly falling away. by fockinglevendcliche - enemies to lovers paint me in trust by themoongirl - vampire!sander that's all u need to know Pizza Time by Quirlequast - robbe cant tell if pizza deliveryboy sander is flirting with him we don't gotta be discreet by noobishere - robbe and sander fake date but theyre actually really dating, aaron is just an idiot

flower moon by cicelsticks - hogwarts au v cute

love me while your wrists are bound by alsjeblieft - siren!sander is fucking awesome this one also has under 100 kudos and thats just wrong

masterpiece by sincerelysobbe - soulmate au babyyyy

For Real by peaceoutofthepieces - fake dating at christmas time what could be better

everything all at once by whalefairyfandom - robbe is a barista and sander is his coworker britts 'asshole' ex-boyfriend

love potion no.9 by thekardemomme - hogwarts au and its amortentia day

the blind date bomb by thekardemomme - robbe and sander on a blind date and it goes very well

I See You When You Run From The Light (within your eyes) by womenstan - sander is blind and robbe is an idiot but itll be okay eventually bsadhajshd

carry me through this sleeping city by aurorawinds - imo this is some of aurorawinds best work, they're neighbours and coworkers and v cute

the sports we play by dottori - this one was very fun and cute although i only vaguely know of the foxhole court it was still very enjoyable so even if you dont know the reference read it anyway

makes me feel things i cant explain

vrijdag 21:37 by wasteourdaysdreaming - the same party from told from different perspectives (one of my all time fucking favourites fr) to build a home by aguamarina - sander has a sister and she's the sweetest thing

you know i'm always at your shoulder (take your heart out of its holster) by wafflesofdoom - this is unfinished but so so worth the read anyway especially because the chapters kind of function as one-shots

hop in the corolla by noobishere - god this fic is everything to me like them on a trip together, in love, happy, being young, fuck its so wonderful

A New Sunday Feeling by foxsake5 - they're in love and horny and v sweet

Fizzy Colas by foxsake5 - its boys night out but robbe and sander are in love

in this universe by dottori - fluff fluff fluff my little heart

Suns Set Before They Rise by writingbuzz - boyfriends waking up together

lovers never lose by dottori - this has to be one of my all time favourites, perfectly cheesy i love it sm

Taking pictures of you as the light came through by allforyoumylove - this one is steamy so be warned but so tender and sweet

My hand around the base of your holy neck by allforyoumylove - friends with benefits but they're in love and its beautiful

Pull Me from the Dark by TheOceanIsMyInkwell - wow i mean wow, they both have issues and they're still learning and trying and they love each other even though they're sad and a bit broken.

Always mine, always yours by allforyoumylove - they go to a wedding and get engaged and its romantic as fuck and im crying

one through seven by dottori - robbe and sander are in love

#wtfock #wtfock fic #wtfock fanfic #wtfam

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bettsfic · 3 years

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hi betts! i got very interested in your posts esp the implied author. i wanna ask a question (if you dont mind!). so about the implied author, i always feel like that my writings though beautiful always lack mentioned maturity and read very... YA-ish? its not something im trying to achieve. i want to make it more mature and 'classical'. do you have a tips for this? im not aware enough of what to improve on to achieve that, basically. thank you in advance!

this is a great question! unfortunately, though, i don't have a handy dandy term like "implied author" to thoroughly encapsulate my possibly abstract answer.

first, while i understand your goals, i think beautiful prose, and the focus thereof, is still a very important pursuit. there's also nothing wrong with being YA-ish; the implied author comes from a book called the rhetoric of fiction, and the title implies that it's a study of fiction in interaction with an audience. so different readers get different things out of what they read (i wrote about this more in my june newsletter). possibly your perspective is something someone else hasn't seen before, and you've offered them something new without even knowing.

that said, i absolutely understand the drive to have a wider perspective, and write things that you find more complicated and challenging. however, the only way i can answer this is with metaphors couched in narrative, of how i learned about how to approach my writing differently, and which presumably, maybe widened a reader's sense of my implied author (but since i can't be a reader of my own work, there's no way to tell for sure).

so, i once took a creative nonfiction seminar during which i read a whole bunch of memoirs, and the final project was either a research paper or a personal essay. obviously i chose the personal essay. i decided to write about my ex-boyfriend, with whom i'd broken up five years earlier, and i was still very fucked up about it even though we'd been broken up far longer than we were together.

looking back on that essay, it reads like a sales pitch, ten pages of me just pleading with the reader to see my side of the situation, to see how i was the victim, sympathize with me and not him. he's the evil one. hate him with me. please please please.

it was not a good look.

there was a lot of unprocessed grief in that essay, a lot of anger. it was clear i had no wider perspective of the situation other than wallowing in my own narrow feelings about it. i was telling the reader what to think about me, about him, about the situation, rather than conveying the situation as it truly was and allowing them to draw their own conclusions.

in nonfiction, that's terrifying, because it potentially paints me in a negative light. a reader may see my actions and think poorly of me. and honestly, looking back, they should. i was as toxic to my ex as he was to me. i was not good to him at all.

but see, that's an example of me telling you what to think. in the essay, i am pretty much saying outright, "he is evil. hate him." i want to force the reader to be on my side. but after a mental breakdown and a lot of trauma therapy, i was able to step out of the situation and my feelings thereof, and see it from a much wider perspective, and instead of putting my actual emotions on the page, i'm able to illustrate honestly the emotions i felt at the time. i am no longer in the story. i'm outside of it.

here are the events as they actually happened: one night, he didn't come home. i texted him. i tried to call him. i waited a couple more hours and called him again. he came home as i was looking up numbers to nearby hospitals, around four a.m. he wouldn't tell me where he'd been. the next day i found a bunch of hickeys on his neck. i was hurt, and angry, and i pushed him. i told him to get out of my house. he still denied it, and kept denying it for hours longer, until finally admitting he'd been dating someone else for months. i couldn't find it in myself to blame him. to me, it was my fault for not being good enough for him, for not fitting into the shape of someone he could love.

there was more to the story than that; he was financially dependent on me, he was no longer attracted to me and felt trapped in our relationship, my father had just died and i couldn't even begin to grieve over the loss of someone whose life mine revolved around.

but an essay -- or a short story, a novel, a poem -- can't ever render reality exactly as it is. we as writers are always just curators of experiences, images, sentences. there's a lot of fear in that, of leaving out details, of being misunderstood. but that's the inherent risk of art.

the lesson i brought back to fiction is this:

it's not my job as a writer to place judgment on my characters, but to simply convey the story as it happens. my characters may have biases, misperceptions, judgments, and opinions, but they are not mine. widening the implied author, so to speak, is a process of removing yourself from your prose.

obviously you will make characters who are like you in some ways, and so they may share traits with you. they may be identical to you in every way. but they are not you, and cannot be you. possibly the implied author is the absence of ego. or maybe it's an embrace of the self and the world as things that can't be fully known.

i think about films that have a wide implied author versus a narrow one (in my opinion; see above point about fiction as rhetoric). to me, pacific rim has a very wide implied author. even though all the characters in the movie take the events therein very seriously, i know that the mind creating this story knows it's kind of ridiculous, even though it's not a comedy. they know this wild, over-the-top conceit is a vehicle for the more complicated and nuanced experience of intimacy and trust.

a narrow implied author would be zack snyder's justice league. that film leaves me with no evidence that the mind behind it is capable of truly understanding experiences beyond their own, or using their medium to render a nuanced portrayal of being. that doesn't mean snyder isn't, in reality, capable of those things, or that the movie isn't enjoyable on an aesthetic level, but that i found no evidence in the text of, well, themes. it's just...characters doing things. i see no exploration in it, no question that the narrative addresses.

which leads me to my second point, which is that i think the widest implied authors are the ones who are vulnerable enough not to have an answer or conclusion, to simply discover and explore larger questions.

so, what questions do you have? what things do you not know? what are you most afraid to convey or admit?

in some ways, my answer to your question is that you don't have to worry about it, because the implied author is the experience of the reader, which you can't control. however, i think all of us, myself included, can work toward a greater perspective of ourselves and our world, to understand things to a more complex degree. and beautifully, writing helps us do that, at the risk of exposing the things we don't know, the questions we can't answer, our true colors which may be darker and uglier than we'd like to admit.

#writing advice #implied author

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lilyrachelcassidy · 3 years

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Summer Nights (2)

A/N: Is that... is that...? The unbridled enthusiasm I’m hearing? Or are you trying to reach me with torches and pitchforks for being so untrustworthy? Assuming the first option.

Anyway -- Yes, as I promised, this is the second part of the Summer Nights which you would hopefully enjoy. Waiting for your feedback. It’s the INDEX if you need a refresher.

ALSO, I give a lot of credit to @drawlfoy and @bored-and-botheredwho helped me with editing this chapter and steamed off my emotional breakdown related to my writing (lmao). I love you so much gals and a big THANK U once more!!!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: coarse language; alcohol; Narcissa turning into a shitty-mother (lol)

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee@bforbroadway @okaydraco

The next thing Draco knew, he was being woken up with a massive hangover in the snuggly, way-too-comfortable bed by the high-pitched squeal of his mother.

"You, darling, made a lot of trouble for yourself yesterday," Narcissa admonished her son, a glacial cool look on her face. Entering Draco's hotel apartment, she walked over to the window and opened the drapes with one swift movement, splashing an annoyed Draco with light. He groaned, not yet daring to complain due to his mother's livid mood, to say the least.

"You have no idea of what happened yesterday, do you?"

"Yyy-" was the only sound he could make. God, where to the fuck was he? He hadn't been this plastered in forever.

"Of course you don't." Narcissa shook her head and laughed nervously, although she made it plainly obvious there was nothing humorous about the situation. "You blacked out so hard in that sleazy bar there is no way you can recall anything from yesterday. Look at you -- you are squinting at me like I'm the sun!"

Draco nervously ran his finders through his disheveled hair. He was definitely not in the right mind to provoke the conflict. "I left you the note at the reception," he informed her, trying to slickly get out of the unenviable conversation. "Told the receptionist to hand it over."

Contrary to his mother's accusatory ascertainment, he actually had some glimpses of the previous night (or should he say an all-night rave?). There were for sure drinks -- a lot of drinks; a variety of kinds he didn't recognize from the magical world but still guzzled delightfully. The second recollection was dancing --which wasn't his intention, but with some luck of his -- got invited by some hot-looking chicks from across the table. And yes, he definitely remembers the swaying and the rhythmical moving of the hips along with some cheesy muggle vibes mixed with the smell of booze and weed. Maybe he even hooked up with one of the girls? The last thing he recollects before passing out, almost like through a haze, was seeing Narcissa's furious face screaming something incoherent at him. Overall, that's his all night wrapped in one.

"Do you think the mere note 'I will be fine' was going to calm down my shattered nerves? Draco Lucius Malfoy, I swear to our dear ancestors, I did not raise you to act so irresponsibly." She waved the finger at him warningly. “We come from rich history. You are the descendant from a line of successful forefathers who put their effort into building up our reputation. Do you think Lucius would approve of such unrestrained behavior? I’ve been already hearing of letting you be too careless. Is tha-"

"Mother, could we skip the lecture?" Draco snapped angrily, try as he might to suppress it. "I've heard it too many times. All I’m trying to have is a peaceful life. Without the prying eyes of the media and the meddling of my family..."

"And all I’m trying to have is an integrated, happy family to offer you support and love.” Draco opened his mouth to cut her in, but she shushed him with a wave, clearly suggesting 'Don’t even get me started’ meaning. “I’ve been- been trying to get a job, going through the infelicitous job interviews and looking for a solution to help our household through the post-war crisis. Have you shown any interest in that? Any?"

"But mo-"

"The last thing I want to have on my mind is dealing with your ignorant, boyish transitional stages, and let me tell you -- you do not make it any easier for me," she said without taking a breath. She exhaled slowly and continued, this time forcing a softer tone. "I ask you one thing for this summer. Let it be an enjoyable time without unnecessary conflicts. We have come to the beautiful country as France. Let's make a good thing out of it."

Draco, who was already wide awake by the buzz of adrenaline, looked at her with a serious expression. Scanning her face made him suddenly realize how hard must it have been for her to bear everything, and seeing the bags of tiredness under her beautiful, hazel eyes stopped him from retorting. "Mother, no matter what happens, I'll always support you. Remember that."

Narcissa smiled. “Oh. I know, honey, I know.” This time she lowered her voice by two octaves, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. “It’s just… people have been gossiping behind our backs lately, partly throwing the blame at us. All I’m trying to do is protect us from those tormentors. But your binge drinking is not making the deadlock any better, and it drives me mad.” She chortled a little bit and patted Draco’s palm. “So, until the rumors die down, all we can do is raise our chins high.” Narcissa ended, her voice encouraging yet plaintive.

The last thing Draco liked is seeing his mother on the verge of emotional exhaustion, like in this moment. He felt an instant surge of sympathy, so he quickly found himself locking Narcissa in the supportive embrace. She responded to the gesture by wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and stroking his cheek delicately with the back of her hand, just like in the old times. Both of them yearningly wished to come back to those years of frivolity.

"I promise I'll try to be better," Draco said with certainty. Seeing Narcissa’s eyes light up in gratefulness and the smiley dimples form on her features, he assured himself it was the right thing to say at that mother-son moment.

“How could I be so lucky to have such a wise boy,” she muttered proudly, kissing Draco at the top of his head. “But perhaps you should not restrain yourself too much during the holiday. I give you the partial alibi per se. Just keep it under control.”

Smiling, Narcissa got up, straightening up her impeccable posture as in the habit of the high-status woman. For the first time in that day, Draco noticed how elegantly she was dressed up: the black, partly lacy dress stopping at the level of her knees; the shiny-white pearl jewelry perfectly matching her entire outfit; dark yet not defiant high-heels; andhair fixed up in the tight bun. In Draco’s opinion, she looked too prim...even for herself.

"Mother, are you heading somewhere?" he asked curiously.

“Well…” she started, blushing. “I’m going to see my old friend in the coffee shop. I haven’t been there for ages, so it’s one of the chances to meet up with them. Hopefully, you are going to take care of yourself for a few days.”

"Days?" he asked, shocked.

“You didn’t expect me to travel from town to town, did you?” she laughed lightly. “Bordeaux is quite a route to overcome. So I might be settling there for a few nights. Do you mind it, darling?”

Was he positive about the information? Did he mind? Partly yes. He didn’t imagine the prospect of wandering around the alleys of France on his own, especially on the first day of being there. But from the other side, seeing the joy painted on his mother’s face as she told him about the planned get-together made him feel less skeptical. Plus, getting rid of the extreme supervision for a few days wouldn’t be such a disaster as well.

As he calculated now, the ratio about the idea was 90% pro and 10% against.

"Of course not," he said simply, smiling at his mother.

"I knew you would understand." The crease of uncertainty on her forehead disappeared, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Meanwhile... I have already booked you the brunch downstairs but seeing as you are not in the wholesome state, I might order a delive-"

"Don't..." Draco opposed, rising from the bed and throwing the nearest shirt he could find over his head. "I'll come down. Some fresh air may be a cure for a hangover. Oh, and speaking of hangovers -- do you happen to have an anti-hangover potion?"

Narcissa let out a quiet chuckle and clapped her hands, seemingly satisfied with herself. Her tranquil gaze landed on the cupboard. "As a matter of self-preservation, yes, I do. Try searching inside the bedside cabinet."

He thanked her and then they talked with each other a little bit longer until Narcissa took the pocket watch out of her handy purse, noted the time ("Merlin's Beard, I am so tardy! I'm going to be alone on the platform if I stay here a minute longer!), and –a little startled with her inadvertency – hurriedly declared she should get going ("I really should get going Draco!”). Pecking her son twice on the cheeks as a farewell, she rushed towards the door and, for the last time, turned around to blow a brief motherly goodbye kiss. She left in such a hurry that the only sign indicating her presence in the room a few seconds ago was her familiar perfume lingering about in the air.

Draco gathered his clothes, and after half an hour of very difficult preparations while dealing with the consequences of yesterday's actions -- because the potion finally hits after two to three hours -- he found himself in front of the hotel's restaurant. As he walked in, he had to admit the room enchanted him with its lovely atmosphere, which brought back the memories of his first Hogwart's magical feast as an eleven-year-old boy.

With the large windows allowing plenty of light in, the entire space was in the classical style. The whole floor was clad with marble tiles in the white-like color; the walls were purely white and, apparently, someone must have put a lot of effort not to let a single dust spot appear in there; the ceiling was created in the concept of the sky resemblance making an impression of the real clouds hovering over heads. Three enormous chandeliers made a very good fit with carved wooden tables and similarly-looking chairs.

"Sir, would you like to make an order?" The decently looking waitress walked over to his table, with a white apron around her waist and green, deep eyes staring at him. "I'm Laura, by the way. I'll be serving you today."

He nodded, not really paying much attention to her primitive attempts of having a chit-chat. Cursorily glancing at the menu, he decided on having a french bagel with melted cheese and a coffee which was a specialty of the house as was written in the recommendations. The waitress scribbled something sloppily in her notes, smiled briefly, and then strode away.

The restaurant was almost fully emptied, and the only things heard in the background were a heated discussion of the couple beside the table and a composition of french, old songs prepared specifically for the guests.

Draco let out a small sigh of boredom, thinking yet again about the scenery of today. The only ideas that crossed his mind were either lounging in his stuffy hotel room or finding another hang-out spot to drown his sorrows.

After the War, he had found out it was pretty easier not to give in to any of the memories, blurring them out with the support of Scotch as a coping mechanism. Pansy and Daphne, his childhood friends, had tried to talk him out of it, kindly offering some tenderness and a chance for a conversation. But he had eventually stopped caring about any of that bullshit anymore.

That's why perhaps he'd just--

"Hi!" said a cheerful voice behind him, making him jump slightly at his seat with surprise. At first, he thought it was a mistake; that he must have been deemed as someone else considering he didn't know anyone around, so was in the opposite way. Turning around, however, made him realize it wasn't entirely the truth. "Do you remember me?"

"Hello." Of course, he remembered her. It was the receptionist from the previous day, whose name he didn't bother to memorize. Although he planned on avoiding potential candidates for a talk today, he said truthfully, "Yes, I do. You work here, right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling. "Can I join?"

For a moment, his sluggish brain did not process what she was asking about, and that made him frown. The girl probably comprehended what it was about because she explained, reading his confused expression. "...the table".

"Oh," he said, feeling more than embarrassed for his dumb reaction. "Yeah, help yourself."

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling out the chair to make some room for herself. "Tough night, huh?"

The inquiry made him suddenly realize she must have witnessed the whole scene yesterday -- him asking her for a favor, Narcissa drilling her out for any clues about his disappearance, his arrogant attitude, and scurrility as he spoke to her. For sure, if she were smart enough, she would deduce what the situation was about.

He couldn't help it, but a wave of shame pierced through his body, and his stomach rolled slightly.

"A little," he answered minimizing a dimension of the spree, almost like a lie, and then he shook his head. "Listen, sorry about yesterday. I might have been...rude."

A small smile of courtesy formed on her lips. "I presumed you were a little off. Happens..." she said tentatively, gripping both of her hands together. "Oh, and about yesterday -- you lost this at the lobby." She took his wand out, and Draco's stomach made a second roll, the heartbeat hastening like a speed of light. He quickly tried to bring his face to the natural expression, but the girl had noticed that, and curiosity filled her eyes. "I thought I should give that back. In case it was valuable or something."

Fucking great... How was he supposed to elucidate that?

His throat felt so dry he couldn't let out a word of excuse. The moment was so mortifying to him he just reached for the familiar wand and nodded politely in gratefulness.

"Mhm..." Draco hummed, barely audible and momentarily deflated. "It's just... Something I've been training with..."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dolt?!

"Oh," the girl unconsciously flipped her hair off the shoulders, probably trying to make sense of the information. Furrowing her brows, she put her hand under the chin. "Are you a magician?"

"Kind of..." he agreed, not happy about the reputation he had just created for himself, but at the same time satisfied he didn't have to make up more explanations.

Luckily for Draco, the uncomfortable pause was rescued by the arrival of the food -- thank Merlin -- and even though he hadn't been hungry at all, now he felt an unexpected appetite to eat up the awkwardness. The girl probably caught a hint it was about time to end an encounter because she grunted.

"Listen," the girl started, clearing her throat yet again. "I better get going. But..."

The next thing Draco knew was that she was reaching to her pocket again, this time taking out something similar to a quill, only without ink. He assumed it must some kind of muggle invention, only a mechanical-like version. The girl uncorked it and suggestively drew out her hand, clearly signifying he should bring his hand closer as well. He obediently did.

"France is a big city," she said, glancing at him and sounding serious. "If you ever needed someone to show you around, let me know."

Without any preamble, her soft, delicate fingers grasped his forearm (he made sure to give her the right one), and with a few scrawls on his skin, she looked at him merrily, blushing slightly, and then left a table.

He stared after her for a while, looking at her curls bouncing behind her back as she walked away at a slow, monotonic pace. After a few seconds, she disappeared out of his sight, letting him finally peek at the note she had left:

'Call me, Y/N,' and a nine-digit number attached.

XOXOXO

A/N: I know this part might have contained too little Draco x Reader momento, but I promise it’ll get better as a plot develops. Also -- is it only my impression, or is Narcissa as changeable as the weather in Germany lol.

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doiedreams · 3 years

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𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐚, 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬 || 𝐡.𝐫𝐣

║⇢ synopsis: Art is long, life is short. Your love story with Renjun is one that he cherishes more than anything else, so he needs to make sure your love story lasts forever.

║⇢ genre: fluff ద, established relationship!au, light academia type beat aha

║⇢ pairing: bf!renjun x reader

║⇢ warnings: none

║⇢ wc: 1k

Requested by @dvrlingrenjun: hi kay! hope you're doing well :) can i get fluff 29 + 24 if its alright? (the member could be either renjun or hyuck :] )

24. “This reminded me of you.”

29. “Because I love you.”

“Ars longa, vita brevis.”

In the midst of such a vast space, surrounded by tall, smooth stone walls that curve into high arched ceilings, you stood before a column pedestal that was in front of a wall of paintings. The pedestal held a large marble plaque with an unrecognizable phrase written on it.

Distant footsteps of museum-goers echoed throughout the area, bouncing off of the cold walls decorated with paintings and golden embellishments. In such a picturesque setting, you couldn’t help but feel like one of the people in the portraits; assuming an attitude of class and sophistication while passersby stopped to admire and gape at such cultivated beauty. Of course, you weren’t actually an elegant classical figure framed in a golden border, but more often than not, Renjun made you feel like you were. That’s just how it’s always been having him as a partner. Not a day went by without being doted on by him in some way. Whether that be in a quiet or lavish manner, he always made sure to make you feel adored.

Being surrounded by such art enriched your experience with Renjun, who loved to take you places that would give you lasting memories and an enjoyable time. As an art lover himself, he felt it’d be appropriate to bring you to an art museum on your third anniversary. This way, you could share a memory centered around not only your love for each other, but artwork as well. As your fingers delicately ran along the Latin phrase engraved in the marble plaque, you silently wondered to yourself what it could mean and why there wasn’t a translation anywhere on the stone.

“It means ‘art is long, life is short,’” Renjun informed from some distance behind you. At the sound of his voice, sweet as honey, you turned around to see him weave his way past a couple of statues to get to you. You took his hand and turned back towards the podium in which the phrase was inscribed in.

“Art is long, life is short,” you echoed. Renjun nodded. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

With a laugh, Renjun said, “Think of it like this: see that painting up there?”

You looked upward at the large portrait on the wall Renjun had pointed to, taking up the most space out of all the others. The design of the painting was gorgeous. On it was a woman sitting on a stool with her hands resting on a velvet blanket sprawled across her lap. Her diamond earrings and the bright jewel on the lady’s pendant looked real enough to gleam at you through the canvas. No crown, no throne, yet she seemed to hold enough power in her posture alone that she could command a whole room of soldiers to sit upright just at the sight of her.

“Yeah, I see it,” you said, voice softened in awe and wonder at the mystery lady that overlooked the large room.

“Well, the painter is dead. But the painting, as you can see, is still here. While the artist is dead and likely forgotten by many, the art itself lasts forever,” he explained in a soft tone of voice. “The creator will vanish, but the creation will remain.”

Something about the way he explained that aphorism to you made you feel weak. Perhaps it wasn’t just this specific instance, but time and time again, you found yourself being enlightened by his articulation of philosophy and intellect and you just couldn’t help but fall deeper in love. He truly has it all.

“Does that make sense?” he added, noticing your lack of response.

“Yes. It does, ” you nod slowly as you were still in a state of wonder.

“Good.”

“You know,” you begin. “I can’t help but ask myself how you’ve stuck with me for all these years. If I were you, I’d be pretty tired of me by now.”

He knew you were joking, but the thought of you not understanding how loveable and desirable you were to him just didn’t feel good. You deserve to know just how much he loves you.

“I’m still with you because I love you. It’s pretty simple if you ask me. In fact, this reminded me of you, ” he said pointing at the large portrait.

“How?” you ask.

“Not the lady, but her earrings. The diamonds. So brilliant, bright, and resilient. So rare, and so special, people would destroy for it. That’s you. You're the diamond. And I just so happen to be a lucky man that found you. I’d be a fool not to cherish that for as long as I possibly can.”

At such a bold metaphor, you rolled your eyes at him, but his gaze never left you. In his eyes, you were nothing far from a true gem. Now, both of your hands were in his, feeling the warmth that coursed through your body at his touch. It’s amazing how you could stand in front of your lover in a grand room amongst other people, and still feel as though it was only you, him, and the love between you two. Nothing else.

Renjun broke eye contact for only a moment to glance back at the phrase etched in marble.

“One thing I’ve learned is that how much time we have here on earth is insignificant. In the end, it’s what we make of it that lasts. And I’ve decided that I want to spend every waking moment creating a love between us that is so strong, it will outlive the both of us.”

With that, you’re left at a loss for words. He really knew all the right things to say that left you speechless. But what took your breath away was the sight of Renjun lowering down on one knee, and revealing a small velvet box that contained a beautiful symbol of love, commitment, and devotion. An engagement ring.

There was such an immense amount of emotion running through your body that you couldn’t properly hear Renjun’s 4-worded proposal. You simply pull him up into your embrace where you allowed yourself to melt into him and feel the love you had for each other in every way. Once Renjun took your hand in his and slipped on the ring that encircled your fourth finger, you knew that just as a diamond would take billions of years to decay, your love was made to last.

a/n: thank you for requesting, nini! idk how proposals work smh idk what this is but- I really hope you enjoy this :)

proofreaders: @softsungchan @drydrops891

the artwork mentioned in this story was made out of my own imagination. this story doesn’t mention, nor is it inspired by, any real pieces of artwork.

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soyouareandrewdobson · 3 years

Text

…the ugly. SYAC: The Master Review 4

Last post I covered much of what I consider the good or passable strips of SYAC of the pre-Dobbear era. What I have admittedly not covered yet, were three certain characters of the strip that exist beside Dobson.

Persistent Pam

Curmudgeonly Carl

And… this guy I am not even sure has a name.

No, seriously. He shows up in like the 61th strip of the series for the first time and yet I never see his name mentioned once

All I know is that he is an accountant, who pities Dobson (for good reason)

And despite Dobson not liking alcohol, they regularly meet up in a bar as if they are some late 80s comedy duo

Funnily enough, he shows up way before Pam, who would have her premiere in these strips

And despite only showing up in a few strips after her premiere (mostly to make “fun” of overbearing and snarky commissioners I suppose…)

She actually managed something no other character or series by Dobson managed to get: A fanclub

Not that she would really be of any major importance afterwards.

As for Carl, he is supposed to be something like an antagonistic embodiment of Dobson’s “old” art teachers and people being stuck in old ways, who shows up for the following strips forming a sort of arc.

In addition, it is very obvious, that Carl is supposed to be a mockery of people flaming Dobson. Not helped by the fact that THIS character sheet of him made by Dobson assures us, that there were quite a few even less “endorsing” things he wanted to name the character.

Yet funnily enough, Carl turned into such a popular character with readers, Dobson was essentially “forced” to make him reappear in other strips. Not of the “classical” SYAC strips, but he showed up as the “antagonist” to Tenku in the storydriven multi pagers. Though even antagonist is a strong word, as he is essentially more of a jerkish art teacher and college advisor who is harsh on Tenku, but actually has his best interests in mind. To the point he even offers him to be his “harsher” art critic in the years till he enters college, because he wants to see him grow artistically.

However, Carl was also more of an “accident”. Cause when it came otherwise to tackling criticism or things that irked Dobson (and were not anime related) he would end up more or less creating strips that painted him in a manner where he would supposedly always look like “the better” compared to his opposition or mock it. Which is where a lot of the irk Dobson would earn over the years eventually comes from.

Now to be fair, I do not want to call every comic in that regard “strawmanning”, nor do I want to say that Dobson doesn’t have the right to also mock to a certain extend the mentality of certain “snobs” and so on. For example…

On one hand, I know there are people out there who think they are “special” by having the best tools at their disposal. When in reality you can achieve good results also with less expensive stuff. So mocking that sort of attitude is fine to me to some extend

BUT, when you also make down the line a comic like this…

… essentially making yourself come off as a “better” artist or person than others because you have “chosen” the better mass produced crap (btw, that is coming from someone who types this review on a Mac that runs Windows) , then the hypocrisy ends up to be rather strong with you.

Which is also essentially the biggest issue with the strips I am about to show. The hypocrisy of Andrew Dobson. And no, I do not mean the tumblr blog by that. I mean the simple fact, that the content of some of the soon to follow strips gets kinda muddled when you take into consideration some of the things real life Dobson had said and done either at the time or in the years to come. Well that and the way how he tries to mock issues people have with his work, not realizing how he is essentially just reassuring those “silly critics” in their opinions while making his flaws more obvious to people that may have been previously unaware of them.

But enough talk, let me just show you in quick succession examples to confirm said point.

Considering Dobson’s longterm disdain for DnD you have to wonder what the joke really is outside of him portraying DnD players as ugly nerds, supposedly too geeky even for him. Which is hilarious in hindsight as he would years later become a fan of TAZ among other things.

Less hypocritical but the set up is kinda flawed. Like, you are obviously at a convention trying to sell stuff. Why would some old dude not interested in “kids crap” be at the convention anyway? Is he just bringing someone there and just wants to go, but first needs time to belittle your life choices?

Rather hilarious in hindsight to me. Cause for someone claiming he has ideas that last for a life time and who seems rather distraught on the idea of others giving their input, he turned out to be so in need of ideas. Alex ze Pirate e.g. became from 2015 onward only defined by Dobson talking about the sexualities of his characters (and not even in comic as by that point it was discontinued, but rather in tweets and so on). Formera, which ran heavily on cheap shonen anime tropes ended up cancelled after two volumes, Cabin Rest was a failure after 20 strips, 2019 he relied primarily on cheap comics about Miraculous Ladybug and his understanding of certain genres is so bad, he can’t even think up the most basic ideas for a magical girl story.

Weirdly enough, that pitch of a garbage truck driver who fights crime? I think that could make for an enjoyable short story about a vigilante a la the Punisher or Sin-City.

The way Dobson perceives criticism, while also essentially giving a quick rundown how he appreciated criticism in his childhood way better than in adulthood. Yeah, because criticism by your parents as a kid was always VERY constructive. (looks back at certain drawings from own childhood) brrr. And sorry Dobson, but sometimes criticism by strangers is better than criticism from friends. Cause friends may mince their words. Plus people have over time given you quite some insightful criticism aside “U SUX” when it comes to comics. You were just never willing to listen

Hey Dobson, you hear that? That is the sound of your career, dying and no one caring.

Yeah, I think someone who made such “brilliant” comedy as in these comics, totally has the right not to listen to what seems to be solid theoretical advice.

BTW, that Talus comic… I swear to god the worst “joke” Dobson ever told.

Wow. You essentially make a point why you suck at drawing. While still not trying to change.

And as someone else once said: Don’t play with fire if you can’t deal with the heat, BLOCK-son!

This is not how I perceived your shit over the years. See, on one hand it is true that Alex ze Pirate e.g. has its own webpage to read the comic for free. HOWEVER most of his comics Dobson would hide from the start behind a paywall. The idea being that he would e.g. put a small reading sample of 10-15 pages up somewhere and then expect people to buy his comic for full price to get the rest. And you know, if you are e.g. a professionally published writer, that is fine. But when your average art output looks like THIS

And you expect people to pay more than 10 dollars for something that is only around 70 pages long while most people can get 200+ pages for the same amount of money that look like this…

You can frankly go and screw yourself.

On one hand I get that the joke is meant to be, that as an independent content creator you may find yourself in a weird spot where your “child friendly” work may be put in a palace between edgier stuff other creators sell at conventions. On the other hand, I find it rather insulting in hindsight, that self declared feminist Andrew Dobson portrays such competition as either psychopathic murderers or stereotypical cartoon bimbos. If modern day Dobson saw the same strip by any other person, he would be insulted on behalf of the female that she is portrayed as a bimbo, when she could also be a very smart and attractive woman who knows how to tell brave and sexy stories.

Also, I have read your “child friendly” stuff, Dobson. I would call Atea or Alex abusive bitches who like to bully orphans but child friendly? Not to forget that your work is so basic and shallow in depth, it’s like the someone tried to create a chimera out of some of the worst traits associated with Dora the Explorer, 80s toodler cartoons and the Fairly Oddparents.

I frankly hate this theory on comedy. It is true, a lot of comedy can be deprived from conflict, misunderstandings etc. Looney Tunes, Tom and Jerry and other cartoons as well as screwball comedies such as Rat Race can depend on it. Heck, one of my favorite comedians of all time is Christopher Titus, who based his entire career on the misery and absurdity of his life.

But comedy is not just defined by misery and conflict.

There are for example also the following theories when it comes to comedy…

And to get back e.g. to Titus, yes, he has build a lot of his comedy on the bad stuff that happened in his life. But he is also someone who in his comedy has build a lot of punchlines on the absurdity of certain situations he has been in life but which in a way have enriched his life positively.

What I am trying to say is, comedy (and entertainment in that regard) does not just have to be defined by misery. And all things considered Dobson, you could have really tried to also just make comics wherein either you or your characters are just happy with their situation in life.

For example, this page from an Owl House fancomic?

I think it holds more entertainment value than your “joke” right here, despite not even telling a joke.

Simply because as a page overall, it tries to convey a positive emotion. Which is more than I can say about the strip.

Because of a lack of different level of thickness regarding your lines, which would trick people into perceiving depth, the fact that the fill bucket and shade layers can only do so much to cover for the rather monochromatic dull nature of your comic, the fact that your characters are not really all that complex and look rather simplicstic even compared to stuff from a comic like this…

And that is just coming from the top of my head as someone who never studied art. If any reader has something to add, I am willing to listen

And considering you could in later years never keep up to any release schedule, which among other things resulted in only three SYAC strips in total being released in 2016, I say go fuck yourself. Not to forget that even some of the worst newspaper comic strips out there tend to actually find a decent following and good jokes eventually, otherwise they would not manage to stay popular for years, if not even decades.

As someone who has worked internships a lot in life, I just want to say fuck you in all our names. Glad to see you having just as much respect for interns than any other scumbag on the planet. Probably even less respect, cause you know, in some places interns tend to get paid.

Also, there is supposedly an entire real world story going on about Dobson having worked at his former university at the time the comic came out and Chaz is based on a fellow intern.

Things are unfortunately rather vague in that regard and only hold up by demonstrative evidence such as the name of Chaz showing up in certain pages of the university and Dobson’s internship being mentioned somewhere.

Well, would you look at that: People have different opinions on your stuff.

There are ways to draw memes funny and then there are ways to fail at them

You failed.

Funnily enough, that comic rings a lot truer to text than you expect. Considering how Dobson would often emulate certain aesthetics in his comics of shows that were rather passee by the time he published his stuff, plus how he will obsess over certain trends and games for years to come (like Skyrim or his Quiet Hate Boner) while also being unaware about current trends (how do you e.g. not have heard of My Hero Academia by 2018 at least once by accident?) Dobson has always been kinda late to the party. Missing the “zeitgeist” of nerd culture and as such never quite finding an audience.

Yeah, what Pam says. Not helped by the fact that yes, the floating eyebrows are real. Look at some earlier sketches or “professionally published” comics by his and you will see that each time characters get excited, their eyebrows will suddenly split into sets of three and float higher than Pennywise’s victims.

Ironically, that fits real life Dobson at the time and later on even more so than this comic version did. Sorry, but what am I supposed to call a person who has an hate boner on anime for years for superfluous reasons, made Danny and Spot a “gaming webcomic” deliberately to piss on non Nintendo fans and has admitted in some by now deleted youtube video, that he kept a list of usernames from an old forum just to remember even years later the people that were mean to him online?

Fuck both of you. I do not expect the Sixtin Chapel in the background, but something to filll up the empty space behind you is at times needed.

The comic here is actually called politics. … ironic how things changed once a certain reality show host turned president.

Jesus Christ. I am not even that much of a Transformers fan (Prime fan for life however) but even I know that this is not supposed to be what you design the head of a Transformer like. Not even if they ever produce the Transformers equivalent of Teen Titans Go.

Too bad you still can’t stand the heat, otherwise you wouldn’t have completely disappeared last year.

When you know you are in a no win situation, and still manage to choose an even dumber option to escape. I really don’t get it. I just think the Portal reference makes the comic dated and Dobsn’s attempt at a smug face looks so stupid. Like his cheeks are falling in and his mouth is about ready to get raped by a garden hose or something.

Yeah, considering Dobson’s later constant need for safe spaces and to be in control of a situation and the narrative, which led to so many blocks over the years… if you know anything about Dobson, how this comic becomes harsher in hindsight is rather self explanatory. I just want to say one thing: There is a difference between genuine agoraphobia and just wanting to be by yourself. And I think Dobson just prefers the later on average. Which is okay, but humans still need to interact with other human beings in one form or another, even just for the sake of keeping their mental health stable. Why do you think are so many people getting depressed in times of covid lockdowns, despite many having all sorts of technical gimmicks at their disposal to at least keep boredom at bay?

And by putting himself into a bubble like that, I think Dobson has deprived himself of some of the most basic human interaction, which was likely a severe factor in his mental degeneration over the last years.

It is still a valid suggestion! Just draw some cartoon characters or a nice fantasy scenario on a mural and earn yourself some bucks. Just be sure they are not by Disney or the Mouse will tear down the school!

… Just google up the words Andrew Dobson and Samus Aran commission by ED and you will see how this comic just further shows how much Dobson seems to actually be proud of being an unproductive asshole.

And by the way, I know that any form of artistic work takes time. Just writing these review posts takes a lot of time for me. But that doesn’t change the fact that people should post and create stuff in a timely fashion, especially when there are e.g. deadlines to hold up too. And by the way, Sloth’s don’t have fingers, they have claws!

And that is it.

Sorry if I missed anything folks, but I just saw how many pages in word this is already filling up, so I call quits for this part here right now. I think I made my point about how Dobson trying to badly deflect arguments people may make against his art and work ethics via jokes clear enough, while also showing some posts that are either harsher or hilarious in hindsight.

Next time we will however address one certain issue about our main character, that has been not directly addressed here. In the meantime, have a little fun video that shows hopefully how entertainment and a certain amount of comedy can be gained NOT via misery.

youtube

#adobsoncomic #Andrew Dobson #Tom Preston #comic #webcomics #syac #so...you are a cartoonist #review #master review

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lilbabycee · 4 years

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daybreak // steve rogers ✨

hi! i decided to make a tumblr so that i can write here too, not just on AO3 - please be nice to me i’m nervous 🥺 enjoy! xx

↳ summary: an insight into the relationship between steve rogers and his little ray of sunshine.

↳ relationship: steve rogers x reader

↳ warnings: a lot of cute domestic fluff and some dom/sub undertones bc steve is a closet freak and that’s that

READ SUNDOWN

Steve learned from a young age not to stare directly at the sun but that was becoming an increasingly difficult task when he has a clingy little everyone seemed little to him ray of sunshine sprawled out in his bed most mornings. She carries a certain wonder about her and he is sure that she must be aware of it to some extent for in his eyes, it is impossible for somebody to entrance and captivate the people around her as much as she does without even knowing it.

She isn’t perfect - she snores - loud - and is clumsy and speaks too fast and too loud sometimes. But she can be quiet - like in her refusal to burden him on any of the days when she is feeling more akin to the color of the sky against the New York skyline outside their massive apartment windows than the sunflowers that she insists on keeping on the dining table during the whole year. Or the way she draws in on herself when she’s being heavily criticized, diamond eyes shining in a way that makes his heart freefall to his stomach. The way she can get insecure about her work despite the way people laud it. She is too hard on herself, doesn’t know when to stop even when she is dead on her feet and cries often and quick if she fails to achieve whatever her little fighting heart is set on.

But she is his. Her bright and youthful spirit chose his old and weary one, painting over the tainted black and grey with vibrant yellows and reds and greens and golds using the fine sable brushes that he has tucked away in the lower drawer of his bedside table. Years ago he had come out of the ice, but he had never truly unfrozen until she came and melted him, his own personal sunlight with her arms wrapped around his neck and with him wrapped around her little finger.

Steve had never considered himself a poet. An artist, yes, but even that was a modest affirmation. But then she came into his life, all breezy skirts and pouty lips and he knew that he would have to find a new way to articulate his feelings because he failed to find a way to express how she made him feel. Like eating cool orange slices outside in the summer, the juice running down your chin but you don’t care because the weather’s hot and you’re in love. Like stepping into a warm department store when it’s snowing, knowing full well that you won’t buy anything but it doesn’t matter because you’re warm and you’re in love. Like laying surrounded by loved ones but your arm is cramping because your cousin has been laying on it for hours, but that’s not important because they’re comfortable and you’re in love.

In love. It doesn’t seem like enough to describe what he feels for you, the way that heat blooms in his chest every time you lock eyes or how your smile makes the steady beating of his super soldier heart stutter. Even now, looking down at your sleeping form, he can’t help the boyish smile that grows on his face. His right hand rests on your waist and your head rests right over his heart, the pulsing of it lulling you to sleep the night before. His left hand comes up, thumb gently caressing the bottom lip of your wide-open mouth.

He can feel the magic buzzing in the air in moments like these, the subtle beauty of it all, the life he thought he would never have. You shift on his chest, throwing a leg over his and then settling. Steve exhales, watching the sunlight stream through the crack in the blinds and reflect off of your bare shoulder that his t-shirt has fallen off of, shrouded in the white cotton of the sheets. You were-

His thought process is interrupted by a loud snore and some quiet muttering before you bury your face deeper into his chest. A deep chuckle vibrates through his chest, causing you to shift some more and a quiet groan to escape your lips. He presses a kiss to your forehead and you half-open your eyes as he looks down at you in a way that you can only describe as reverently.

“Good mornin’, doll,” he rasps, voice deeper from sleep and it caresses your ears, making you coo.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper, blinking sleepily up at him, kissing his bare chest right over his heart. “How long have you been up?”

Steve hesitates, contemplating lying for a split second but then he remembers who he’s talking to. He needs not feel embarrassed when you’re around, your accepting nature allowing him to express himself while avoiding judgement.

“A couple of hours now,” he replies, tracing patterns on your bare shoulder absent-mindedly. He glances over at the clock - 8:44 a.m - and exhales deeply, pushing your head deeper into his chest. You wouldn’t need to be up until around 10, because after that, Tony would surely be up to disrupt your peace with incessant teasing. Today you had offered to help Bruce in the lab with some undisclosed - but “very safe, I can assure you” - project, but that was supposed to be for early in the afternoon.

“Time really flies when you’re being a creep, huh, old man?” You tease, eyes full of mirth as you stare up at the love of your life.

He smirks, digging his fingers into your sides making you giggle and squirm on top of him.

“Watch your mouth there, young lady,” he calls you out in his captain voice, making your stomach flutter and your eyes lower in submission. He knows what that voice does to you, how it melts your resolve. His smirk only grows when he realizes how your eyes have dropped and how quiet you’ve become. “Don’t worry, baby, I know you have work to do. I won’t spank you today. You can find a way to thank me later.”

He follows his last sentence up with a wink and you giggle, always content about how soft he makes you in the morning. Later you may find the time to exhibit your bratty behaviour, but for now, everything was soft and sweet and quiet. You nuzzle your face into his neck and his hands slip down to grip your ass.

“I’m sure I will find a way later, Captain,” you mutter, yawning. His hands start to move in slow, languid circles, as both of you know that you have some time left in your little safe haven bathed in golden light and wrapped up in each other’s body heat. “What are you gonna do today, super soldier?”

He sighs, licking his lips and your eyes can’t help but follow the movement of his pink tongue peeking out between those perfectly pink lips. Instinctively, you bring a hand up to trace their outline, fully appreciating the beauty of the man that you hold captive beneath you.

His pretty blue eyes stare contemplatively at the ceiling and you notice how in this light, they look greener than they do blue. It was as if God himself poured a vat of molten gold into the ocean of his eyes, letting it sit and reflect the sun on this early morning. His cheekbones are pronounced and his jaw is strong, giving his face such a classically beautiful structure. The spun flaxen strands of his golden mane are unruly, but the time that the angels had spent slaving away and spinning it does not go unappreciated. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, but instead your eyes are drawn to his moles and his freckles. They make constellations across his unblemished skin you’re jealous and reassure you that this perfect man that lays beneath you is still indeed human.

“You’re so damn pretty , baby,” you sigh, interrupting whatever response he was about to provide to your question. He smiles up at you and you return it easily, leaning down to place a soft kiss right on top of his lips. He grips your ass slightly tighter pulling you deeper into it. You make a noise of surprise that he quickly swallows, then moving his lips to nip and suck at your neck. Last night was long and he made love to you slowly and lazily, bringing you right to the edge again and again. Keeping up with his elevated libido was a constant but extremely enjoyable workout for you, one that he always found amusing.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says once he relinquishes your lips from his hold, pecking you one more time. “But I don’t think I’m the pretty one in this relationship.”

He kisses you again before you can protest but then sits up abruptly, taking you with him and making you squeal. Your arms are still wound around his neck while your legs cling desperately onto his waist. His hands still rest on your ass and he wears a bright smile on his face.

“I don’t know about you, doll,” he starts, walking through your shared apartment towards the kitchen. You’re only wearing his t-shirt - one of the bigger ones because why are his shirts always so small - and he can’t help but admire how pretty you look in his clothing. He thinks that he wants to keep you like this forever. “But I’m a little hungry.”

You side-eye him at the potential double entendre - the abused flesh between your legs is already screaming in protest. He doesn’t look at you, but continues looking straight ahead with that naughty little fucking smile on his face, the picture of innocence.

“For food though, sweetheart, I swear it,” he finally cracks, laughing shortly while placing you on the kitchen counter. He deposits another kiss on the tip of your nose, looking at your bratty little pout causing his hand to twitch. He knows that he wouldn’t - can’t spank his best girl before breakfast - and you really are too sore from last night to go again for at least a few more hours. Because, if Steve’s being honest to himself, it never just stops at spanking.

But you’re clingy in the mornings so as soon as he turns to grab a pan from one of the cupboards, you clench your legs tighter around his waist. Turning to you once more, he raises an eyebrow and your pout only intensifies. He doesn’t do anything but kiss it once more before unwrapping your legs from his waist with those strong big ass motherfucking hands .

“What you do want for breakfast, babydoll?” He asks, successfully grabbing the pan this time. You chew on your lip, thinking hard.

“Pancakes?” You question, looking up at him for confirmation. He nods, a smile on his face.

“Go put on your music or something, baby - we can make them together.”

And that’s how you ended up dancing around the kitchen to one of the songs on your playlist, shaking your ass and singing obnoxiously loud as Steve watched you humorously, flipping a pancake here and a piece of bacon there. Soon, you both have glasses full of juice and about three dozen chocolate chip pancakes, as well as multiple pieces of bacon.

When you shove a piece of pancake into your mouth, Steve catches your eye across the jar of sunflowers on the table, light glinting off of the fork that you’re holding and the white plates adorning the table. He dwarfs his hand in yours and plays idly with your fingers.

“I love you,” he states definitively, as if he is stating his name and what color the sky is.

A mouth full of pancake, you grin at him. Quickly swallowing, you lean over the table and kiss him soundly on the lips. He tastes like orange juice and maple syrup and Steve .

“I love you too,” you reply, a small smile on your lips. His smile grows until you snort the last word, your own grin spreading.

“Dork.”

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animatedminds · 3 years

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Star Wars: Visions - Episode 8: Lop and Ochō

Early reveal for the rest of the review: this is by far my favorite of the films so far (who knows, maybe Episode 9 will extremely wow me, but until then...), for what is actually a variety of reasons that I will probably go into at length. And because there’s nothing I like better than to nerd out at length, there is better time than now to delve into... Episode 8: Lop and Ochō Developed By: Geno Studio Directed By: Yuki Igarashi Another one that uses a brief narration to approximate the opening crawl of the films, again to great thematic effect.

This is also another one with an explicit timeframe. During the rise of the Galactic Empire, we focus on a formerly isolated planet that has reached out to the Galactic Empire in hopes that the Empire’s influence can modernize their society (some very clear Japanese historical subtext here), leading to many aliens immigrating to the planet. This includes Lop, a homeless bunny-girl alien (mildly jarring, since Gamorreans aside animal-people aliens is something you’re more likely to find in Wing Commander) who escaped from captivity and one day bumped into the patriarch of the ruling clan of the planet and his young daughter. The daughter - Ochō - insists on adopting Lop, leading to her father bringing her into the family: and so Lop and Ochō become like sisters.

Years later, strife strikes as the patriarch - Lop and Ocho’s father - realizes that the Empire only intends to exploit their planet and mobilizes a guerilla force to strike back. But Ochō takes the opposite opinion: without the Empire’s influence, their backwards planet is doomed to fall behind no matter how noble their culture is, so they must submit to ensure their own future. This rift explodes as Ochō formally joins the Empire and their father steps up his efforts to fight back, while Lop stops at nothing to stop the fighting and bring her adopted family back together again.

The very first thing I’m going to focus on here is the choice in how the story opts to approach the setting. Here, instead of getting a Jedi who visits this planet, seeing these people as an outsider does in the way most of the other shorts set up narratives of this type, the focus is on this particualr culture and how its individuals see the Empire’s presence. You are immersed into these people and their ideologies, their history and how Lop and Ocho fit into it all as heirs in the next generation. This is a fantastic way of doing this - you may recall that back during my review of The Village Bride, I commended that short for giving the people of that short a distinct means of looking at the Force, but even in that one the people were secondary: objects of the Jedi’s perspective. Here, Lop is technically an outsider, but that only outlines the prominence of the setting and storytelling as she is then raised alongside this new family and world.

The presentation here is very similar to something like Lost Stars, a book in the current canon that I’ve always seen as one of the best Star Wars novels made in the last few decades. Like Lost Stars, this short uses the characters culture to set up their upbringings and situations, and then applies that to the issue of the Empire: Lop chooses to oppose the Empire - or, more accurately, to try and bring Ochō back home - because of how much her adopted people’s attachment to family has shaped her. Ochō chooses to join the Empire because she sees nothing but the big picture, her good intentions leading her down a draconian path, and as the story goes on her conceit as an entitled heir eventually starts to show itself. The conflict does strike similar beats as the one between Thane Kyrell and Ciena Ree for similar reasons: the story makes sure we know why these characters are going to split before the split happens.

The characterization is good, is what I’m saying. A great example of doing great, distinctive character work in a short amount of time.

I should also get the visuals. This short combines bright, modern character designs with a very classical, painted aesthetic for the world around the characters. This gives it a very classic animation feel, like watching a Miyazaki movie or Sleeping Beauty: the location art of this episode is among the series’ best, and the action animation manages to combine a fluidity of motion with a simplicity of choreography, in a way not unlike The Ninth Jedi - another of the shorts whose action animation stood out.

Back to the plot with another interesting track: the story makes it unclear how strongly force sensitivity plays a role, which also gives it a good contrast to the others which generally don’t just star Jedi, but are almost exclusively about Jedi intrigue and entanglements: Lop is clearly strong with the force, but she has no context for that and her objectives have nothing to do with being a Jedi - she is centered around her people and her family. The lightsaber we see in the short - fantastically - has a backstory similar to the Darksaber we see throughout The Clone Wars, Rebels and The Mandalorian: centuries ago, a Jedi was trained from this warrior culture, and instead of passing their saber down to a padawan or giving it back into the Order, this Jedi instead passed the saber down through their family, again cycling back to the way this short uses the characters’ unique perspective and history to approach the setting rather than the other way around. The people in the short only have legends of the Jedi, and the only thing that’s significant here is that the sword featured is the prized possession of their clan.

This gives the story a lot of room for questioning, especially as the ending is open rather than definitive: is Lop going to learn more about the force, and if so will she do through the lens of her people? Who was this old Jedi, and does the sword have a history like the Darksaber does? And most importantly: the war against the Empire does not end with the end of the short: where will it go from here? Will Lop and Ochō ever be reunited? There is a degree to which this short comes off almost like a pilot for a longer story, which would serve me just fine - for the reason I’m about to get into now: As always, a purpose of these reviews is to look at how much potential these shorts - which are currently non-canon - have to some day become canon, or even at least be followed up on by the studios involved. The potential there comes down a few key factors: the major one being the amount of support these shorts get from the fanbase. But another is in how easily or organically these shorts can be incorporated into the framework of the Star Wars universe.

And are the chances for this short’s incorporation good? ABSOLUTELY. I generally judged the other shorts’ potential on how little they contradicted the world and setting around them. With this one, however, its simpler to think of it from the opposite direction: this is exactly the kind of stories that gets told in the Star Wars universe today. There are several stories I can think of just like this in concept that were made within the last few years alone, or even being made right now: the current canon loves its stories about X culture in one corner of the galaxy and how its reacting to the rise of the Empire, which heroes come from there and why. Where those heroes go in the end. The comics, especially, always seem to be on the lookout for more focus characters to play with, but I also mentioned Lost Stars earlier, and that’s a very good point of comparison: for the same reason Lost Stars makes for one of the best prose installments of the current canon, Lop and Ochō has a lot of open real estate it can waltz into to define its own part of the universe.

Besides a couple superficial stylistic things (the symbols on the lightsaber blade, as I mentioned before, Star Wars doesn’t typically do strictly “animal people” as species - that’s more a Wing Commander thing - but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t if they really wanted to), there’s nothing really stopping this thing from getting canonized. I really hope people make some noise for it, because I’m being serious when I say this of all the films has The Best Chances of being followed up - minus The Duel which, of course, was already getting a followup before the series even released.

All in all, I mean it when I say this was my favorite of all of the shorts. It, pound for pound, has everything that I found enjoyable about this set of films all in one package, ever interesting means of approaching the Star Wars universe that I was looking for, all of the interesting ways of looking at situations we already know that I was hoping for, with a set of endearing characters on top of it.

If we can get more stuff like Lop and Ochō in the future, I would be more than happy. If we can get more Lop and Ochō specifically, all the better for it. I also mean it when I say I hope people make some noise for this one. It’s worth it.

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