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#been having unrealistic expectations for 17 years
heeyyyou · 2 years
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Happy Pride & Prejudice anniversary everyone 💘
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deathxproof-archive · 6 months
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today was going exceptionally well until I was once more solely blamed for the state of the second floor of my parents’ house when I was one of six (6) people who have occupied that floor. it’s fine. I’ll get over it. I’m already pretty over it tbqh but still fucking sucks yknow
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Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Current WIPs: Feb 2024
Active WIPs with most recent updates posted in the past month featuring time travel, road trips, fake dating and some rare pairs. Happy reading!
✨ Be sure to show the authors some love and appreciation with kudos and comments on the fics you enjoyed!
*Authors: if your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you are linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me and I will remove it.
✍️ A Disaster, Beyond Measure by drabbleswabbles* [NR, 1K, 1/?] Hawkins Fuller is a campaign manager with a PR disaster on his hands. The solution involves pretending to date none other than Timothy Laughlin.
Featuring: unrealistic portrayals of the life and job of a campaign manager for the sake of the fake dating trope.
✍️ Manhattan by @morulezopelforever | OpelForever  [E, 17K, 17/?] This story is based on Tim's brief romance with Father Gallagher when he was still a student at a Jesuit university in New York, a few years before he met Hawk in Washington. I believe that this little tale of a lost first love broke down any boundary that might have stopped Hawk from starting a courtship with Tim.
Part 1 of The Violet and the Rose
✍️ Too old to play (and too young to mess around) by @bejeweledmp3 | ninav [M, 15K, 2/5] Kimberly Fuller goes on a two-week vacation to San Francisco, in which she: drinks excessive amounts of tea, gets betrayed, cries more than she should, eats donuts, and seeks out truth with the help of a man she only knows from a presentation card; not necessarily in that order. But mostly, she finds her father in every least expected place. And learns to make her peace with what that means.
✍️ I Sing the Body Electric by telescape8* [M, 17K, 7/?] Modern AU. It all starts on Election Night 2016. Tim falls hard. Hawk falls harder.
✍️ Sands of Time (Turn Backwards) by @brouill3r | brouiller [NR, 10K, 4/?] 1987 Hawkins Fuller is full of regrets for the life he's lived, though Tim once told him he regrets nothing. Hawk so wishes he could say the same. In the still night air of a hotel room, clutching a cracked paperweight to his chest like it's carved of the finest gold, Hawk gets his wish. Or, a time-travel fix-it fic that nobody asked for.
✍️ What Happens in Washington by Adidastommo* [E, 7K, 4/?] Hawk knew better than to begin an affair with someone who worked with him, let alone someone who worked for him. It was beyond risky. But, when the recent college graduate Tim Laughlin begins working as his assistant, Hawk starts to challenge his better judgment.
✍️ Sempiternal by winstarkasm* [NR, 7K, 5/20] Sempiternal : eternal and unchanging; everlasting “I will find you, openly choose you, love you without conditions, and be the person you deserve.” - Hawkins Zebadiah Fuller
✍️ We’ll be on the road like jack kerouac  by @jesterlesbian | captainquint [M, 2K, 1/5] He tried to think of what Tim would do or say. The man who had only spoken to his son a handful of times over one weekend in 1968, but had seemed to understand him far better than Hawk ever had. The business card felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. An idea burst to life in Hawk’s mind. This was an emergency if he’d ever seen one. “What would you say to coming with me to San Francisco?”
Or, Hawk and Jackson go on a cross-country road trip to San Francisco.
✍️ Beautiful Things by @carrotcakecrumble | LuxLox [M, 1K, 1/4] -- I turn away from the radio I’d just been tuning, there’s a crackle and pop on the wave, but Miller’s ‘Over the rainbow’ is just about spattering through in tune. Kenny says something about how he loves this one. It could be the first time he’s hearing it, for all I know. He falls in love with everything. – A multi-chapter fic following a young Hawk and Kenny throughout their relationship, from beginning to end.
✍️ Send Back the World by Anonymous [NR, 2K, 1/?] There is nothing so bitter as regret. And nothing so sweet as a second chance.
Or, Hawk gets yet another chance to fuck it up again.
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eashgirl · 2 months
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What are your expectations for earthspark s2?
I've got a few things I'm expecting or hoping
1)More Terrans that aren't related to the Maltos I'm really intrigued at the idea of other humans developing bonds with newly born Terrans.
2) Hashtag becoming a streamer and Twitch becoming a ranger like what was originally planned in the production bible
3) Starscream and Bumblebee to interact, I just have a feeling no matter how they end up meeting eachother it would make for a pretty interesting or rather funny scene.
4)Drift and Ratchet
5)Prowl to be as morally ambigious as his IDW counterpart, I know idw Prowl is pretty controversial amongst a part of the fandom but he's geniunely so hilarious and interesting,bonus if he has history with Tarantulas.
6)Maybe the reason why Bumblebee was forced undercover for years? I don't think they've ever really answered that question as of yet.
7)The Terrans actually getting some therapy, considering what they've been through the past few episodes I feel like they need it.
8)Thrash getting a dad2(lowkey hoping it's Prowl)and Terrans bonding with their Cybertronian mentor figures.
9)This will likely get addressed at some point but I want to know what exactly happened to the Allspark did it truly get destroyed in the blast or did it make it to Cybertron?
10)Quintessons
11)Breakdown and Bumblebee hanging out you know what just Autobots and Decepticons working out their differences it's unrealistic to expect the scars of a millenia of war to disapear that quickly I get that but I'd still like to see them attempt to make a change.
12)Maybe a flashback of the battle of the bay of how Megatron and Dorothy met, I get that piece of information was already revealed in the production bible but I still would love to see it happen, the battle of the bay was arguably a pivotal standpoint in the war as so many incidents revolve around it.
13)maybe some Cybertronian villains? I don't mind if it's an Autobot or a Decepticon.
14)This is more of a "just for fun" expectation but I kind of want to see the Terrans have a pool party to make up for the one Robby and Mo wanted to go in one of the first few episodes
15) Thundercracker being a movie director, bonus points if he has Buster.
16)Shadowstriker no reason I just like her.
17)just people doing goofy stuff without Ghost and another antagonist I want to see a few episodes where everyone is just doing things for the sake of it, just to have fun
18) Jawbreaker meeting the other dinobots and nightshade and tarantulas doing their own little experiments together
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People hating on main characters for being annoying is both funny and not to me. Like oh no, characters have human flaws and aren't just this perfect being of unrealistic everything.
(I'm gonna be talking about three main characters that I see get crap for "being annoying".)
Korra is a hot head who literally gets arrested in the first episode. She's not Aang and people hate her for it. She isn't like Katara where she's the background quiet girl. She's more like Toph but because there's not a man leading the show she's suddenly annoying. She's 17. She's brash and would fist fight a pole if it pissed her off enough. She's not dainty and she never will be.
Ava Silva is an idiot (lovingly). But that's what makes her great. She almost never has a plan, doesn't understand stuff (and will make it clear that she doesn't) and she has maybe had two non-impulsive thoughts in her whole life. She's honestly a very realistic feeling 19 year old who's still in that "I'm invincible" stage and who wants to try everything. She swears, she makes fun of the church she's fighting in the name of, and she's somebody who's obsessed with living.
Kit Tanthalos is a cocky bastard. She's a princess who's not allowed to go outside her own lands. Even sword fighting with her best friend is against the rules. She's never experienced life and now that she is and she's fumbling her way through it everyone suddenly hates on her. Oh, she also has a temper. Her mom can get mad at her no problem, but when Kit gets jealous of not having parents who love her because of Elora, she's in the wrong. She's expected to just be okay with that.
This whole thing just feels like the "teenagers are stupid" argument. But it's also the fact that you get older actors that are not teenagers themselves playing them. You get in your head that this character is older than they are. They don't fit in this little box about how they should or shouldn't act. Plus, I feel people don't like seeing their flaws reflected back to them in media because media tends to paint main characters in a rose-tinted light. You just... you've never been in the situations these characters went through. Their background shapes them just as ours does, but because we can't empathize with any of them, we don't even try. We just label them as annoying and move on.
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xreaderbooks · 11 months
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The Shadows of Our Love |2|
Chapter 2 | In the Shadow of Potions
Sebastian Sallow x Slytherin! Reader
Summary: Day two back at Hogwarts, Garreth gives you a friendly invitation and Sebastian still hasn't spoken to you.
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 1.8k
also available on Wattpad and AO3
a/n: not much so far but there will be more excitement to come, let me know if you'd like to be tagged :)
Chapter 1 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 3
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A sharp pain that came from your abdominal area woke you from your slumber. Your eyes opened wide to find Ominis standing over you from where you lay on the Slytherin common room couch, the fire still kindling from last night. He poked you again with his wand, and you smacked his hand away from you, you must have fallen asleep last night.
"Ominis," His name was a warning. You grumbled as you sat up straight wrapping your robe tighter around you, "Merlin, I'm up."
"Could have just said so, L/n," He kept his wand in his hand no longer pointing it at you.
"Could have just woken me up vocally." You retorted and saw the common room wasn't half as full as it was when everyone came back from the feast. Everyone must have gone to breakfast already.
"How did you know I was here?"
He shifted on his feet uncomfortably, "Sebastian saw you and notified me to wake you up."
"He couldn't have just told me himself?" Your eyes narrowed at the ground, thinking of what Ominis just told you.
"Don't bring into your lovers quarrel, I beg you," Was all he had responded with before leaving you.
You dressed yourself in your green robes, fixing the mess of hair and feeling the crick in your neck from sleeping on the couch. It was a familiar feeling from last year, after a full day of classes, hunting down poachers or fighting off goblins, not to mention when there was a trial to do for the keepers; the couch was the first comfiest thing in your eye-line. Now... not so much.
There were scattered open spots left, you took one of them, disappointed at not seeing Sebastian anywhere in the Great Hall. You filled the plate with your breakfast, and ate alone, listening to the random gossip and chatter. First-year girls fawning over second or third-year boys, other students excited about Quidditch being available now and who was going to try out, there were a rare few who you overheard talking about how you defeated Ranrok.
Your reputation proceeds you, first being the new girl entering 5th year, defeating a troll in Hogsmeade, being known to do favors for people who were convinced they couldn't do themselves a favor by just thinking things through. You were glad you could be useful and it made you well-liked, but it had come at the cost of people's unrealistic expectations and the younger student idolization of you.
Accomplishing all that you had as a 16-17-year-old last year was no easy feat, practically impossible, you would have said if you hadn't experienced it yourself. Even knowing that you felt a sense of guilt. Anyone would have been able to do what you did last year, there was no reason for people to treat you the way they did now.
Stuck in your own mind, you hadn't felt someone else in your vicinity. Hands had grasped your shoulders with a roar. The irony is a certain Gryffindor voicing out the word 'Roar' in your ear. The flash of ginger hair plopped beside you, sliding his hand to tame his wild hair back.
"Bloody hell, Garreth!" You almost jumped out of your seat. "You almost scared me out of my wits, asshole!"
He didn't give you the courtesy of hiding his laughter, full-on having a fit of giggles, red-faced and all. You glared at him, sitting and watching unamused.
"Are you done?"
"Not nearly," He held a cheery smile. "What's got you all pensive?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" you sighed and took a bit of your breakfast.
"My grumpy little Y/n/n," He ruffled your hair. You shoved his hand away from you, "Now I'm wondering if I should ask you what I came here for or just wait it out for when you're in a better mood."
"You've already disturbed my peace, might as well get on with it," You said with a full mouth.
He leaned a little closer, "Depending on what your schedule looks like at the end of the week, I was thinking we could get a group and hit up Hogsmeade."
You paused your chewing and thought of your schedule, knowing Friday, you only had one class mid-morning. "I have double Defense against the Dark Arts in the morning but I'm free the rest of the day. I'll tell Nat and Poppy- whenever I see them."
"Already done," The same cheeky smile adorned with his freckles made you hold in the urge to pinch his cheeks. You were grateful for Garreth's friendship despite how annoying he could be sometimes.
"Who are you inviting?" You asked him suspiciously. Hoping he wasn't inviting his idiot friends, although it would be fair considering he invited two of yours (did it count if they were mutual?)
He shook his head, "Nope, not getting you in a worse mood. Now, up you go, we have class to attend and it's my favorite of the day."
He flicked your shoulder twice and you groaned, his potions were going to be the school's downfall, everyone you know is just waiting for the day.
"How do you even know my schedule?"He gave you a knowing look. You coughed mockingly, "Stalker."
Walking into the classroom you recognized plenty of faces, most from your house and several others from the rival Gryffindor house and a sprinkle of Ravenclaws. You saw Sebastian with Samantha Dale. Garreth wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, "Now, Y/n/n I know you usually sit with your other buddies but I was thinking this year you could join me at my table."
"Absolutely not, Garreth, no," You unwrapped his arm and made your way to your old spot. Unfortunately is was next to Sebastian who suddenly became mute in your presence.
"What could have been, Y/n, what could have been," He held his hand to chest in mock hurt. You had a small smile at Garreth's silliness.
The door to Professor Sharps storage room opened and there he stood giving the room a quick once over before sighing and walking to his desk, "Good Morning everyone. I see we have a couple more students missing, we shall give them a few more minutes to arrive before we'll begin. Try not to be too loud in your conversations, you're in class not your social hour."
Samatha immediately faced you, squealing in delight "You and Garreth Weasley?"
Your eyes grew wide, "What?"
"He walked in with you, his arm you and all, you spent the summer at his family home I heard." She leaned forward with her head in her hands, "You know I'm not one for gossip with much more interesting things to talk about- I'm just curious."
"I-I did," You didn't know how news could travel so fast, the rain had just arrived yesterday. You felt his stare from where he was standing but you didn't look to meet his eyes, "We're not together if that is what you're implying."
"Oh," She corrected her posture. "I don't know what people are making such a fuss about then."
You didn't realize people were making a fuss about you and Garreth or that people knew you had spent time the summer with him. You didn't care, there was nothing to hide about it, however if they were making assumptions about your friendship with him maybe you needed to care more. Is this why Sebastian isn't talking to you?
A couple of more students joined the class which prompted Professor Sharp to start the lesson.
"First off, you should all know that while we are brewing potions we will be reviewing Golpalotts Third Law, I will not be explaining to you what that is at the moment so put your hand down Mr. Cobblepott," A gryffindor two tables down from yours slowly put their hand down at Professor Sharps command. "Be prepared to write an essay on Everlasting Elixirs using your 'Advanced Potion-Making' textbook, which you are all free to line up and grab one at this moment- keep it in mind and study for when the times comes there will be no confusion."
There were groans and eye rolls throughout the class that Professor Sharp paid no mind to, each table took their turn lining up behind the previous tables line and grabbing the blue hardcover book. Your table was the last to go and by the time the three of you got there, there were two books left and Samantha had just grabbed one.
You and Sebastian stood there, you weren't surprised to see he had grabbed the last one. You mentally prepared yourself to ask Professor Sharp if he had any extra books left when Sebastian's hand extended to you. For the first time you met his eye in question, he simply handed it to you.
Your hands brushed together once before he snatched his hand away, walking back to your shared table. Your brows furrowed in confusion for a second and you walked back hurriedly noticing everyone had been waiting for you so Professor Sharp could tell you all what you would be working on.
The same hardcover blue book as yours 'Advanced Potion-Making' was in front of Sebastian, how the hell did he get a copy if he gave you the last one?
"Today we'll be learning an Elixir to Induce Euphoria, not to be used lightly," Professor Sharp warned. "I have already placed all the ingredients that you will need in the area of your cauldron to avoid antics so early in the morning and in the school year."
His tone was obvious he was not up for any foolishness, specifically from Garreth, that much was clear.
"Page 53 is where the instructions are, come to my desk if you have any questions."
The class went by without a hitch, with Professor Sharps preventing you all from grabbing all the materials, not even Garreth could mess up the potion. The Elixir to Induce Euphoria was a dangerous potion to brew and no doubt there were a couple of people in there that were curious to try it.
You were curious as to how Sebastian acquired the textbook when there wasn't any left and he hadn't asked the Professor. You wanted to ask him but he seemed so focused on brewing the potion, you didn't want to disrupt him though you were highly tempted to.
Professor Sharp called you all up in order and did a check of the Elixir grading you all on it and dismissing the class.
You were free till lunch where you sat with Ominis, and Sebastian, and chatted with Imelda who got over your comment from yesterday. Sebastian gave you a curt nod but didn't pay you much attention at all, not even during the next two classes you had together.
So far on just today you had Potions, Herbology, and Defense the Dark Arts, all your classes for Monday, and not a word was spared for you.
~~~
Chapter 3
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devil-on-acid · 1 year
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The Heart of Eywa Pilot
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Chapter 1
A/n: i could not stop myself from writing this. This is my first time writing fanfiction after reading them for years. I hope you guys enjoy it. fort the most part i wrote this to let my creativity out and to heal my post Avatar TWOW depression. Sorta warning i wrote half of this while under the influence and later on fixed the mistakes and some sentencing. Also note that English is not my first language so my vocabulary is not impressive. Please enjoy this first draft/pilot. Any feedback and comments are appreciated.
Genre: Thriller/Isekai/Fantasy/Sci-fi
No Pairings yet
Word count: 3,301
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I know myself, i’m obsessive. I have hyperfixations. Hobbies and will do anything to make days go by faster. I am one of those people who are sometimes not aware of what is happening. My emotions not in tune with my body. My feelings are cut off from my responses, i am…..
i was never able to cry when i wanted to or when i needed it. Instead of feeling numb i went to feeling everything all at once. That is the only way i can describe it in short.
But if i am being true. This feeling i have is indescrible.
And all of this came from nothing but a single unrealistic wish i had while trying to fall asleep.
 ________________
Third pov
The year is 2023, slowly it’s getting colder at night but warmer at day. The freezing cold prickling at your skin and the wind sharp in your face. During the day it’s still cold but the sun comes out alot more. The enjoyable heat of the sun coming through the windows a start of a new day.
A girl no older then 17 is currently in her room weaving and braiding a band from string in a multitude of vibrant colours. Colors who are getting harder and harder to find in nature. As she is braiding we hear the background noise of music softly spilling into the room. The girl in question keeps her head down as she braids the strands delicately tot the beat of the music. The laptop it is playing from sitting far beside her on the desk facing the wall. Everytime she looks up she studies the massive collection of posters up on her wall. Posters of music she loves. Movies, series, artworks made by hand. The one in the middle had just been added to her wall. A poster of the movie Avatar the Way of Water. It’s blue color looking back at her. It has been a month ever since watching the new instalment and (y/n) felt nostalgic evertime she looks at it. the feeling of wanting to leave this place getting larger and larger she looks at that wall. she often imagine stepping up to it and would hope the wall could just swallow her up as if a portal had transformed it.
_________
(y/n) pov
It was a normal night of settling down for the night. Doing something else besides studying or working. Some time for myself to work on hobbies or anything that has gotten my interest lately. I often times like to stare at the wall in front of me. My huge collection feeling overwhelming and soothing at the same time. I tend to think about how many stories have actually been made in such a way as we make them now, we are al storytellers as humans i presume. The amount of fantasy needed for it is already impressive to begin with. I often get lost in the music of soundtracks playing in the background while i work. I always like fantasy, action, sci-fi and thriller. But my childhood favorite has always been Avatar (2009). It was the first sci-fi action movie i watched. But i found it a fantasy as well. The whole world so thought out a full book can be written about the Culture of the Na’vi and the beautiful Flora and Fauna of planet Pandora. If i’ll ever be able to make a wish it would bet to get transported there. Living the life of a free Na’vi. Exploring the forest of pandora, instead of living month after month in a little gray box. It feels so wrong to think we live like this, most of us. Not knowing what to do with our lives as so much is expected from us. The pressure building up and your body feeling more tired then ever. That feeling has been crawling in the back of my throat the older i got. The more responsibilities that i didn’t want the larger the hollow and empty feeling in my chest. Work, eat, go to sleep,  repeat the day. I am not the only one feeling like this. People around me have expressed the same feeling. And still i wonder how they manage to push trough as well as they do. It almost fills me with curiosity and jealousy.
Braiding away at the new necklace that i am making i start having this uneasy feeling. I try to ignore the feeling and try to concentrate on my work. Focusing on the beat of the background music coming from my laptop. But the more time past and the sun went under the bigger my paranoia became. The more i try to ignore everything around me the more blurry my vision got from starting at my hands. At some point i was ripped away from my dazed state only to get goosebumps all over the back of my neck and my arms. The laptop my music came from had stopped playing the music and instead an awfull buzzing sound came from it. like the electronics started to malfunction. panic seeps trough my skin as i start the hear the music again, but there was something wrong about it. it was slower and was playing backwards. Trying as fast as i could i turn off the laptop and sit back down. Trying to calm my breathing, slowing my heartbeat.
As my mind began to clear i was able to stand up again. ‘’its probably just something wrong with the laptop, its 10 years old anyways’’ ‘’nothing is going to hurt you, you are not in danger’’ ‘’you are savely in your house with all windows locked’’
With those thoughts all i was able to cal myself down, checking the time i noticed it was already 00:47 at night. Better to go sleep instead of staying awake much longer. I changed into my pyjamas, brushed my teeth and my hair and layed down in my bed. When i get scared or i feel like there is something wrong i always hide away in bed. Maybe even hide under the covers if i want to. It was a habit of my childhood that stuck with me even to now.
As i was laying in my bed trying to sleep i tried tot hink of the many possibilities of getting out of here. Wheter escaping from this house and moving to a place i felt happier or escaping this world completely, everything is possible in your dreams anyway so why not indulge in a fantasy for a few hours until you go back to your endless working cycle. The house was unusually quiet. My parents where both visiting my aunt abroad and my sibling has their own place 20 min away from here. The usual sounds of snoring from my father in the other room and the buzzing sounds of the washing machine weren’t here. It was deadquiet.
As i’m laying down trying to get comfortable i force my eyes to close, instead of staring at the ceiling. I try to make my mind go black and slow down my rapid thoughts. However one thought came to me that i was unable to get rid of no matter how hard i tried. The most unrealistic wish i ever made. Because it wasn’t real. But to be able to dream about it, to dream about Pandora is a privelege.
Before i know it i feel myself being pulled away by this reality and into the next. I let the serenitiy take over my mind and body and accept everything coming my way. the aches of my body dissapear, the stress in my shoulders lift up out of my body. This feeling, the feeling of flying, a dream i tend to have a great many of times washes over me like a wave of water. my mind at peace when i slip into unconciousnes.
I see a tunnel light up completely by white glowing vines. I am being pulled by my entire body through this tunnel at such a high speed i wanted to close my eyes from being blinded.
And then everything went black. It stayed like that for it felt like hours. Just staring at the blackness as peacefull bliss fills my body. Slowy i start to feel sensations again. I can feel my bare skin touching what felt like grass or moss. The cold breeze flowing over my skin, i can feel how humid and warm the air is. I try to hang on to what i feel. my ears start to pick up sounds one by one. The wind. The moving of plants all around me. The sounds of bugs, birds and other animals i can’t recognise filling my mind. Wanting to see my suroundings i try to move my body. Trying to twitch any muscle i can think of. My fingers, my toes, my face and my eyes. It felt like i was laying there for over 20 min before the sensation in my legs came back to me. My body waking up from my toes, up to my calves, to my stomach, my arms and upper body. When my back and neck where able to move. I take in the deepest breath i could, pulling in my stomach before letting go again.
The air was so fresh i enjoyed every second of it. being completely awake now i open my eyes too fast and got blinded by the sun. Wait…..the sun. I tried to pry my eyes open again blinking a few times to sharped my vision. The first thing i saw where the enormus trees towering over me. Looking down from it i was overwhelmed by beauty all around me. The grass and moss on the ground was greener then i’ve ver seen in real life, the ferns and flowers all looked to be tropical species i had never seen before.
It took a bit before my mind caught up to me. ‘’i must still be asleep.’’  I kept repeating that to myself as much as possible ‘’you’re asleep, you’re alseep, you’re asleep. No one can hurt you in your own dream’’ but as much as i was trying to convince myself it didn’t feel like i was telling myself the truth. This, wherever i was looks and feels way to real for it to be a dream.
Last option. Pinch or hurt myself into waking up. I pinch myself on my arm, doesn’t work, i scratch myself on my wrist, i’m not waking up. But now i look at my hands in shock and wonder. Five fingers on each hand. My skin is a beautiful Azure blue colour with darker stripes in patterns along my body. Softly glowing freckles on my hands up onto my arms and down my stomach and legs.  I put my hands up to feel my face, it felt the same as it did before i went to sleep, but my ears are higher onto my head. I am able to twich and move them, picking up even the slightest of sounds with them. I pull my hands behind me and feel the back of my head. A long braid from the center of my head goes all the way down over my back towards the ground. As i looks behind me my new tail is swishing back and forth on the ground. And i come to the realisation that this can’t be a dream. This is way too real. Wheter it is a dream or not i am unable to wake up.
 My wish, my unrealistic ‘’i want to go to sleep’’ wish came true.
‘’i’m on Pandora’’
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 ‘’WAIT….what the…’’ i shoudered in a shaky breath by what was coming over me, my mind was having a hard time believing what i was saying out loud. This is impossible.
‘’i’m on Pandora, and i’m na’vi’’
With my new eyes i scanned and observed my sourroundings. I was amazed at how much i see. Every tree, strongly rooted into the ground. So many type of plants, flowers and moss around me. Never had i seen a forest like this one. Not even in the pictures of the earth i saw online. Or the footage i saw in documentaries.
I try to move my legs and sit up properly to stand up. As i try to stand up with difficulty i have to grab onto the tree nearest to me. I stand there a bit letting the dissiness fade away and test my legs. Slowly walking a circle to see where i am or rather where to go. I try to think about the possibilities that i have. I have no idea in what year i got into here on Pandora but that would be difficult to find out without anything that doesn’t involve  technology or the humans. Do the Na’vi even count the years ? or the months ?. i don’t think so. I’m not even sure how that would go.
The best options i have on foot is see if i can recognise anything, a scene from the movies, or a sign of life. Hoping i won’t run into any dangerous animals i choose a direction and started walking. Feeling every leave and fern i touch. The green moss feeling soft to walk on. The more and more i walked the more types of bugs and small animals i encounter. I can hear prolemuris swinging above me from tree to tree. Sometimes seeing Arachnoids crawling upon the trees. My mind started to wonder, if i truly am here, where are the others currently ?, are they already gone, or do they still reside in Hometree. Is Jake already on Pandora as well ? or has he been here for years already. All of these questions can decide my fate. I don’t know where i’m walking to, but the most likely thing to happen is getting killed by an animal or being found by a clan and being killed for being a Dreamwalker. That name really does fit me in this case. I’m essentially walking in a dream.
The it wasn’t that much light left anymore in the forest. Soon the sun will dissapear during eclipse. But i am too distracted by the world around me. Around me i find more and more shimmyflies soflty fluttering from one plant to the next. I was hypnotized by it’s eight iridescent wings and delicate build. Trying to touch one was difficult. They looked almost too fragile to even touch anything they come in contact with. Like the thinnest ice melting away after a single touch.
I mindlesly follow the insect like creatures flying all in the same direction. Some of them flying up into the trees. Other left behind to go someplace else. It wasn’t long till i realised the sun had completely dissapeared. I was in a rather dark spot still following the shimmyfly. I looked at my feet with each step. The ground of moss on the floor reacting to my steps with it’s bioluminecent light. creating a path of my footsteps that fades away withing seconds. I start feeling like the sounds around me go in sync. Each small droplet of water, each insect, each call and chirp from the animals mixed together. Like music to my ears. i’m getting more and more lost from where i’m going, but it didn’t matter. I was so calm and at peace here. I could feel my skin tinteling as if pain doesn’t exist. The more i listened the more it almost felt like i was hearing actual music was playing around me. It felt like i wasn’t alone. As if there was a comforting presence of something or someone all around me. It made the drifting feel slower then it actually was. But it still then felt like i was watching the biolouminescence of the forest for hours. Sometimes just trying to spot more small insects. Other times touching plants to see their reaction in colour.
But unbeknowns to me, it actually was hours that i was walking. My body starting to feel faint from being so tired. I tried to still figure out a new direction to follow, i can’t remember which direction i came from. Taking another few steps i start hearing the dripping sound of water.
‘’That must be a river’’ i was getting thirsty from the warm humid air. Putting a faster pace on my walking i follow the sounds of the river water the best i could.
___________
Third pov
Walking through the forest you want to make your presence almost invisible. the forest of pandora holds many dangers. You need to be alert, silent, and quick. That is what a hunter was doing at that very moment. Hiding in the trees looking for any smell, sound, or track from an animal to hunt.
Being in there for more then an hour the hunter went back and forth looking for any clue of animals passing through the area. What he didn’t expect however where the presence of a great amount of shimmyflies around. Shimmyflies where difficult to find this deep in the forest. It wasn’t till long that he realised there was something wrong, something or someone was there that was unfamiliar. A scent he did not recognise as any animal he knew of.
Going further into the new direction he chose. Not wanting to be spotted he climbed into the trees so he could see from above. Watching carefully at any change or sign of life. A little further away he stopped abruptly. Right down on the ground further away he saw a person walking slowly the opposite direction, right towards the river. The person now identified as a young girl was dressed in peculiar clothing, clothing not completely the same as the Sky People. But still a red flag to look out for. The girl was dressed in just a thin dress. Carrying no weapons as far as the eyes could see.
This could mean only one thing, a sky demon invading into their land. No matter how outnumbered the demon was it was still a cause of concern in the mind of the na’vi hunter. As quiet as he could go he ran to his ikran in a hurry, making Tsaheylu and flying back to the village. He knew where the sky demon was headed and he wasn’t far from the village, if he was fast enough he could warn the other warriors and the Olo'eyktan about this and they would be back before she drifted to far from this part of the forest.
after the war with the Sky people years ago, they sended them all back to their own planet, the dying planet they destroyed for their own greed.
Only a few where chosen to stay, scientists loyal to the protection of pandora and it’s natives. Loyal to the omaticaya. But out of those humans none of the avatar drivers have been young females, only adults known by the clan and recognisable to them. Even then they never venture this far from Hells gate and not on their own.
These thoughts worried the warrior fearing the worst. Flying at a faster pace trying to reach his destination. Looking down the area one last time remembering the way back, it was a completely dark spot. The bioluminescence gone from the area where he just ventured. Completely dark against the night sky protecting a certain Na’vi girl from the aerial hunters.
__
Meanwhile the girl was still drifting, unaware that she was being watched. Shock settling into her body as she was still accepting and processing what happend to her. All that matters now is staying alive long enough to find the only people she might know, the Omaticaya.
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snowqueenofmyheart · 10 months
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I’ve been thinking a little about a particular takeaway from volume 9, something that I believe not enough fans seem to recognize or discuss from the bits of chatter I’ve seen. It’s this specific part of the Blacksmith’s tale about the Brothers and how balance is not two opposing forces locked in eternal combat, but an ecosystem:
“Thus, balance cannot be restored with force or calculation. True balance finds its own equilibrium. It only requires LOVE and the PATIENCE to see things through to the end.”
What I want to focus on here is the part about Patience. Because I think everybody understands the importance of Love here, and the story has given us enough themes to show how Love is key to Team RWBY prevailing in this fight.
The reason I wish to focus on why Patience matters here is because of Ruby’s actions and attitude throughout the Atlas arc. The Blacksmith could have just said that “Love conquers all” and that would have sufficed, but they specifically included Patience as crucial to what our heroes need moving forward. The volume 7 opener was “Trust Love” and felt a little out of place given the events of that volume, but it makes so much more sense now with all of volume 9 having played out and linking 7/8/9 altogether. So why Patience? Why is this significant?
I come back to Ruby’s despair in volume 8 when, thanks in large part to Penny’s sheer will, she and her friends launched Amity to get the message out to Remnant about Atlas being under attack and the threat Salem posed. When Ruby laments to Yang about how childish she was for thinking that help would come, clearly believing that launching Amity was a waste, it’s heartbreaking. But even more so because she doesn’t have the right frame of mind to comprehend her situation fully. The entirety of volume 8 happens in 2-3 days! That means Amity was launched and just one day later, with things deteriorating rapidly in Atlas and now Ironwood about to nuke Mantle, Ruby is cracking because help did not arrive. But why would it? It’s only been ONE DAY.
But that’s the problem with Ruby Rose: her hero complex has blinded her to the reality that these things take time. Songs like “Miracle” from volume 6 indicate that Ruby has been holding onto that belief that because she’s the hero or trying to be the hero of her own story, then surely there will be a miracle of some sort, something to happen at just the right time to save them all. And Atlas under siege by Salem’s massive Grimm army would be the perfect time, right? Well, obviously that doesn’t happen because “life is not a fairy tale.” But more than that, it was highly unrealistic of Ruby to expect anybody across Remnant to see her message and immediately respond by rushing straight to Atlas to help save anyone, let alone fend off Salem’s seemingly unstoppable assault.
Think about it. Some 17 year old girl has just appeared on a global broadcast - that in itself is crazy because global communications have been down since the Fall of Beacon - and not only is this girl announcing that the Kingdom of Atlas is under attack, but that the entity behind it as well as the attacks on Beacon and Haven Academies is an immortal witch. Pretty sure anybody seeing this message is going to be in shock for a good few minutes, right? And even if people didn’t respond with screams of terror and full blown panic, how much time and effort would it take for even the best prepared humans or Faunus to hop on some airships and speed their way across the planet to Solitas? At best, you would only have a handful of people responding from, say, the northern reaches of Vale/Saunus and Mistral/Anima, but to have a sizeable force to make any difference... it just cannot be done in ONE DAY. It would take days, more likely WEEKS to muster such a force and to make plans so that they don’t just become a feast for the Grimm.
All of this is to say that Ruby lacked patience. Of course she’s stressed beyond belief and cracking under the pressure; volume 9 made that abundantly clear! Still, it is truly sad that she was already giving up on herself because her seemingly desperate or pointless plan to warn the world about Salem did nothing - all because she could not understand that there might be a positive result if only she had the patience to see it through.
And this is why the Blacksmith’s word choice matters. And why this image of the flowers that appears during that part of the speech matters:
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Team RWBY is like a garden of flowers: they have grown and blossomed into something beautiful all because of love and patience to see things through, even if they didn’t always know it. Love has obviously been there all along; it’s what bound them together at Beacon and brought them back together in Anima, and it held them together through the Fall of Atlas and their journey through the Ever After. But they still had to learn, Ruby most of all, that good things can’t be forced or manipulated into being. Like a flower, it must be nurtured and allowed to grow on its own time. You can’t just put seeds in the ground and yell at them to grow, and no matter what you do to the soil any other environmental factor, the flower will grow at its own pace or die if tampered with too much.
Going back to Ruby’s despair about her message not working... if what we saw at the end of volume 9 is truly “They heard her message” as one of the animators on CRWBY said, then the Blacksmith’s message becomes all the more relevant. Ruby has learned to trust in love - the love of her family, friends, her team - and now, she will hopefully see that a little patience has paid off. She has gotten a lesson of sorts in seeing Somewhat, but to see humanity assembled in Vacuo all because she warned them about Salem? That will do wonders for her self-esteem.
Furthermore, the significance of Patience really fits the overall themes of RWBY along with the power of Love. It takes time to build anything worth standing or fighting for, and as hard as it is to watch things fall, to watch horrible people destroy what took so long to build, it is not feasible to rush things or just seek the fastest way to achieve the desired outcome. Forcing people to fall in line (Ironwood) won’t restore balance to a broken world. Neither will calculation or manipulation (Salem / Ozma) if prior volumes are any guide. This is why Team RWBY matters as the heroes of the story: they are a guide for everyone else as to what works. They came together with their differences and conflicts and clashing personalities, but because they took the TIME to work together and learn, because they TRUSTED each other enough to LOVE one another, because they had the PATIENCE to build a coherent team, they are now a formidable fighting force. And more importantly, they are a model for bringing people - humans and Faunus - together.
That’s how they will win. Not some shortcut to beating Salem or even the gods, I reckon. It’s all about inspiring love and the patience to tend that garden and watch it flourish. And what marvelous things may come about - like the response to Ruby’s desperate plea for help. Small acts in small moments that can lead to great change. It’s all about learning to see it through to the end.
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sketchy-rosewitch · 11 months
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Confessions and Rain: Bobby Cobb x shy!gn!reader
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Warnings: reader is drunk, crying, unrealistic amount of wine consumption (the show has it so it’s not my fault really), vomiting, age gap (17 years), angst happy ending
A/N:Hehe drunk confessions are fun confessions
“I don’t know Trav… I’ve never really.. drank before and I’m afraid I’ll say something stupid.” You stare at the bottle of wine on the coffee table then look up at your best friend Travis.
You were a few years older than him but found each other while in college. As in he came up to you trying to flirt but you declined and said you’d rather be friends. Then you met his family and somehow formed a crush on his dad. But you won’t admit that to anyone, expect Travis but Travis just ‘ughed’ and the conversation stopped.
“Come on. I’m 21 now and you’ve been over 21 for the past couple of years. It’s one night. For me?” Travis’ brown eyes get big and puppy like and you slouch.
“Fine, but you’re stopping me if I do some dumb shit. Cause I know you won’t do anything stupid.”
He raises his fists in the air absolutely triumphant over you agreeing to this. “Fuck yeah wine drunk!”
-
“Dude! Noooo! Come here Travvy!!” You whine, he shakes his head and goes into the wine cabinet to get more. You get up and stumble over to the kitchen island giggling. “I’ve literally never felt my head more heavy than this. Can’t even holdddd it up!” Your body leans down on the cool marble countertop.
“You ready for more?” Travis giggles, you start giggling too and take the bottle, opening it for you two to share. He pours it in the two cups setting on the counter and you chug it down. “Nooo! It’s for sipping silly!”
He pours you another cup. You bring it to your lips and make slurping noises making him giggle louder.
The front door creaks open and talking echos throughout the entry way. You and Travis look at each other with shocked faces before bursting out into full laughter.
Oh god. Everyone was here.
“Jesus, four bottles of wine?!” Jules looks at both of you with a shocked expression on her face.
“Psh, yeah but we’re like totally not that drunk.” Travis makes a gesture with his hand. “Laurie!!” Travis’ cheeks go pink and he moves to go hug her, running into everyone and everything on his way. She smiles at him.
“I’m gonna take you upstairs. It’s late anyways.” Her nail boops his noise and everyone watches as he and Laurie stumble up the stairs. You look at the rest of the adults around you and smile goofily. Ellie swipes your drink away from the you and you frown.
“Was gonna drink that ma’am.”
Ellie instead sips on it squinting her eyes mockingly at you. You watch Bobby as he, Andy, and Grayson go to sit on the couch. He always has his arm on top of the couch and you’d do anything to have your shoulders under it.
“Jules.” You mumble.
“Yes sweetheart? Do you want me to get you to bed?” She asks kindly. You shake your head.
“Gotta tell you something.” You don’t break your gaze for a second, staring at his stupid goofy grin and his perfectly straight teeth.
“What is it?” Her blue eyes look at you and you smile.
“Gotta whisper it. It’s a secret!” You bring your index finger to your lips. She nods her head and leans in. You cup your hands around her ear.
“I’m soooo in love with Bobby!”
A giggle escapes and you cover your mouth. She looks shocked. “Don’t tell anyone. I get to tell.” You smile and look over at Bobby again.
“Well can I know?” Ellie asks, looking offended.
“Yes! Cause you won’t tell anyone!” You skip (if you could even call it that) over to Ellie and whisper the same thing. They stare at each other than at you. And again, you’re looking at Bobby like he’s a dream.
“Dunno when to tell him.” You whine, looking over to the two women.
“Hun.. why don’t we get you up to bed.” Jules tries to gently grab you.
“Should it be right now? I should tell him right now.” You start walking over to the group of men and sit right where you wanted to. You hear Jules trying to stop you but Ellie grabs her. Whether it’s knowing it’s because it’s the right decision or because she likes to watch the world burn you’ll never know.
Bobby looks down at you.
“Whatchu up to Lady Bird?” He tilts his head.
“I gotta tell you something! It’s fucking insane and you’ll never be able to guess it because you’re an idiot even when I am. So! Fucking! Obvious!” You place your hand on his knee. “I’m so in love with you Bobby! I mean seriously! You’re just the coolest man ever. So dumb yet confident. I love everything about you.” Your eyes feel droopy, you sigh, close them, and lean your head on his shoulder. “You’ll never get it though…”
-
Your body aches as you begin to wake up, whatever you lay on is soft and plush. Your eyes feel gross and you rub away the boogers.
You sit up and groan, opening your eyes you become aware of where you are. Jules’ house.
Ellie and Jules stand at the counter drinking coffee and that’s when you start to remember what happened the night before.
You’re such an idiot. Your head pounds and you feel sick. You gag and Jules is quick to your side dragging you to the bathroom.
You puke into the toilet and let out a small sob. “I’m such an idiot!”
“No, sweetheart! You aren’t don’t say that!” Jules rubs you back gently, you let out more puke and another sob.
“I- ugh! Shouldn’t have said anything. I just ruined everything.” You sniffle. She hands you toilet paper and you wipe your mouth with a piece and blow your nose with another. “What happened after I fell asleep.” You ask, leaning against the cool bathroom wall. Jules kneels across from you.
“Bobby laid you on gently on the couch and got everything out for you, painkillers, water, covered you in a blanket and put some pillows under you. He apologized, I didn’t know for what and before I could ask he left. Grayson went upstairs and Ellie and Andy left after that. Ellie’s only been here for a bit but we’ve been talking about it. We think you should two should talk.”
You nod your head and try to get up, your head pounds and you fall back onto the tiled floor.
“Maybe not right now. But later!” Jules smiles. “I’ll go get you those painkillers and some orange juice!”
-
You felt so much better after eating and taking an afternoon nap. The sun began to set as you drive your car to Bobby’s boat.
When you park, you take a deep breath in and out before exiting the vehicle. He lounges on top of the boat with a beer in his hands.
You adjust yourself and climb up the latter and onto the boat. Everything about you felt sweaty, even though Jules and Laurie reassured you everything would be fine, it still felt scary to even talk to him. He’d never make fun of you, but you feel like his rejection would hurt more than that ever could.
“Hey Lady Bird! You feelin’ alright?”
“Yeah.” You fumble awkwardly with your hands.
“Come on up!” He pats the seat next to him and you do just that. You sit in the chair and look out at the ocean. The sun is almost gone and you realize it’s almost been 24 hours since you’ve confessed to him. You frown.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears well in your eyes. You cover your mouth and put that elbow on the arm of the chair.
“You don’t have to apologize. Or cry, I hate seein’ you cry.”
“But- I-I-I UGH! I fucked up our entire relationship. I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night! I wanted to just sit there and wait for this school girl crush to go away. But I haven’t felt like this before. You help Trav and I and when Travis doesn’t wanna hang out with me you’re there and sometimes Andy is too and you do things no one else will do with me. Even if I don’t wanna do it you push me out of my comfort zone. I felt so in love when we danced together awhile back. I’ve never gotten to do that, you made me feel comfortable and you do these stupid things that most men who are 40 don’t even do! You always would look at me too and I’d laugh and I’d get all nervous. I’d make sure to look at you when I made some big accomplishment because I wanted your approval! You mean everything to me and I fucked it all up.” Tears pour down your face, you wipe them away aggressively.
“You didn’t mess anything up. I…” He huffs and takes you by your shoulders. “I am in love with you. I love making you smile. You have such a beautiful smile that I can never get over. You’re so shy and smart and I don’t feel good enough for you. I was scared last night and was so happy you fell asleep because I am stupid. I should’ve noticed sooner. I wanted to be with you so much sooner.”
Bobby gets up and pulls you up with him. He hugs you tightly. “I want you to be mine.” He admits. You feel a drop of rain hit you, but you don’t care. You look up at Bobby.
“I want you to be mine too.” You smile, he wipes your face and leans in to kiss you. You pull him closer and deeper the kiss. The rain hits you two and you still don’t care. “I love you!” You shout.
“I love you too!” He kisses you over and over again. “We should probably get inside the boat though!” He shouts, taking you down the ladder and inside. You’re soaked and cold. The rain beats against the boat and you shake and shiver.
You peel off your wet clothes and Bobby gives you a change. He also changes and wipes the wet hair from his face.
He opens his arms and you wrap yourself around him. You both fall onto his bed and cuddle while listening to the rain.
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hirocimacruiser · 11 months
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Subaru Impreza Electra One.
Super weapon Impreza Electra One armed with powerful aero
<First> The base is the STi version VI
<And> Limited time sale instead of limited number
<Also> Price is expected to be around 3.5 million yen
<Note> The exterior will be slightly changed
Various types of WRC-related special versions have been released so far, starting with the WRX STi version that can be said to be synonymous with the Impreza, which will undergo its first full model change in September. WRC Makes title won,
The V Limited, a commemorative model of the Colin McRae Champion, and the Limited Series, which are still on sale today, have been released almost every year. It can be said that the ultimate model is the 22B, which has the same width of 1770m as the WR car. This is a special model (released in 1989) that is coveted by enthusiasts.
However, until now, all the special versions of the Impreza have been related to the WRC, but this time it's a bit different. The impreza is finished with a racy feel, showing its extraordinary potential in circuit races, such as in the Super N1 endurance race.
It is That is the Impreza Electra One introduced this time. The Impreza has a strong image of the WRC, so it may feel a little different, but it has been decided that it will make its debut in early April as the model that decorates the end of the special version of the current Impreza! Impreza Electra one
individuality that draws a line
creates an atmosphere.
Attention 1
Fierce front mask
The biggest feature is the round 4 headlights of the projector. The front mask that makes you imagine a ferocious cat-like animal is impressive. Wide open bonnet air intake, ultra-large air dam bumper is also a masterpiece
SMALL PIC CAPTION
Road version of this coming.
This is the GT Championship version exhibited at the Tokyo Motor Show. This one is more flashy, but this time it will be marketed with practicality!
COMING SOON.
Coming soon
5 new cars.
Announced in early April
It was exhibited as a reference at the Auto Salon. The concept of the Tokyo Motor Show version was that it was a GT machine for participating in the popular race, the JGTC (All Japan GT Championship). However, since this car was a racing machine, the practicality of the aero parts as a commercial car was disregarded, so it was unrealistic. The Auto Salon version brought it closer to a commercially available model. Look at this exterior! It radiates a powerful force that can be said to be more ferocious than any other domestically produced vehicle that has debuted so far. Exterior tuning that is a bit different from WRC.
Attention 2
Side view like a racing machine
Adoption of projector type independent round 4 headlights, hyena, lynx and
the animal that went
reminiscent of fearless
Front mask is unique claim. One
once you see it you forget Impreza.
a typical face.
A front bumper spoiler integrated with a large air dam, side skirts that stand out on purpose, a towering rear spoiler (the same type as the limited series), and a rear bumper that can be said to be the same as a racing machine. Adoption of 17-inch tires for the first time in the Impreza is also fully conceivable. However, it will not be marketed as it is, and it seems that some shape etc. will be changed.
The base STi version show model was equipped with a high-power ECU, so more than 280 horsepower was expected, but there were no changes to the engine specs, and it remained at 280 horsepower/3500km.
The price is around 3.5 million yen, which is about 500,000 yen higher than the base model.
It will be for a limited period rather than a limited number of units, and BC expects the period to be three months from April to June.
The side skirts show a rather racy finish. Adoption of 17-inch tires is also fully possible. The overall length may be slightly longer depending on the shape of the aero parts.
Attention 3
Rear view with presence
The rear has a different impact than the front. Race
The rear bumper that can be said to be the engine itself is cool.
A large diameter muffler is also installed. The rear spoiler is the same type as the limited series
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differentcatcat · 3 months
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Alex - Fiction - Epilogue - NC-17
(chronologically about 18-20 months after Fiction Episode #8) I love happily ever afters.
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The Actor and I had been “together”, as we defined it*, for almost a year.  During that span of the Fourth Dimension, we had been in the same geographical space intermittently for about four months total.  We “enjoyed” a perpetual honeymoon in fits and starts without the comfort of hectic workdays and lazy weekends to get used to each other in the real world.  And we both did really live in the real world of schedules in stone, long working hours, and were inappropriately (to engender a bonding union) and consistently at someone else’s beck and call.  All perhaps unexpected for two people who were technically self-employed.
We hadn’t considered any of that when we two mature adults conceded a mutual need for one another and jumped into the fenced area of Significance, emotions bared, responsibilities acknowledged, the baggage of our pasts unpacked with forgotten seasonal wear flinging out of storage at the most inopportune times and having to be looked at, commented on and either sent to Good Will or refolded and stuck in a very dark crevice.  Neither of us, as it became clear, was particularly plagued with unresolved issues, but living for 40+ years had left us each set in our ways with a few unrealistic expectations.  We were in uncharted territory and maybe a little wary since neither of us had made such a commitment as this in the previous lifetimes of our twenties and thirties.
Without the security of knowing the other would still be there later to make up a silly spat or a major misunderstanding, we had to handle every uncomfortable or maddening nuance at the time of occurrence.  Fortunately, neither of us was a gamer.  And “if you don’t know what that means, I’m certainly not going to tell you, because if you loved me you would know,” we agreed would never be uttered by either of us to the other.
Alex took Papa Stellan’s counsel and reworked his priorities to always come home (which was Atlanta since my law practice was there) after a film project, regardless of what fun with his friends he could fit into his down time.  I didn’t intend to deny him his fun; we hoped we could travel to Sweden together to enjoy each other, his family and friends there.  I would free myself from work as I could by giving the two attorneys I had taken into the firm more responsibilities and court time with less supervision.  We made the effort.  We were covetous, understandably so, of our respective professional reputations that brought our livelihoods, requiring more sweat and strain to keep them in good stead while hunting more time to spend with each other.  It was difficult for both of us and required constant trials and tribulations we tried not to bother the other with during our communications when we were apart.
So, now a year of this had brought me to right now.  Alex had been on a three-month shoot from which he would appear sometime tonight.  I shouldn’t wait up for him he said.  By now zoom calls and facetime weren’t enough to satisfy us but were impotently frustrating.  We were anxious to be in the same place.  My coworkers (Beauchamp Cow-orkers, LLC they called themselves – not because they were incorporated but because they liked to remind me that they had limited liability.) knew I loved them dearly, but they had suggested that I take the funds from the common “fuck all jar” that my general cussing had filled and buy myself a bottle of sippin’ whiskey (or a new dildo as my legal assistant slyly suggested) to ease my stress.  I knew I needed to rein in my frustration, and I took the money, added some and gave them a big party tonight at Zazu’s, a piano bar and excellent bistro on Peachtree Street.  I didn’t attend.  They needed their space from me, but they would talk about how generous I was rather than how touchy I could get toward the end of a long stretch of Absent Alex (or without a “good fuck” as they bandied about the phrase between them – I couldn’t say it wasn’t true).  I had worked everyone hard, including myself, so I could take two weeks away from the office upon Alex’s return. 
He's coming home tonight!  We hadn’t much communication for the last day and a half; Alex was traveling and would not often text me with his progress.  I was giddy with anticipation and furious he’d been away so long.  Neither reaction was good.  I had plenty of time to get my head and heart where they should be to greet the person I loved most.  I admit I had resolved to myself: If I have only one life to live; let me live it with a blond actor.  In this last year, the “l” word was just out there, with no preamble, and always thrown with all sincerity and caught with all confidence.
I did some yoga to relax.  I made myself hot chocolate with rum and sabra and put Perry Mason on the small screen to take it down even further.  I knew Alex had missed me as well.  Yet his work was part of him.  I could never be selfish enough to expect that to change.  I was bringing myself around.  Alex would find me all smiles and kisses – and sleepy.  I turned on the back door lights for him and went up to bed about midnight.
I thought I was dreaming when about four in the morning I awoke to the sweet sound of the click of the back door bolt lock and Alex announcing his arrival, “Hey honey, I’m home!  Jamesy, come kiss me, woman!”  By the time my sleep-addled brain acknowledged my quickening heart rate at the mere sound of his voice, he had bounded up the stairs, dropped his traveling bag, kicked his shoes off, and had pulled his shirt over his head and off, and was grinning at me.  I stood on the bed and reached for him so I could kiss him properly at his height.  He laughed at me just a little before he reached my embrace, then breathed my name before giving me a kiss of a lifetime.  His kiss was one of desperation, desire, familiarity, tenderness, and I gave it back with all the love the mere sight of him provoked.
When we had to breathe, he mumbled, “I’ll be right back.  I so fucking missed you.”  He moved toward the bathroom.  Hell, I couldn’t give him even a moment of privacy.  I hopped off the bed and followed, tugging his t-shirt I slept in over my head on the way.  I thought maybe I should let him pee in private, so I stopped at the doorway.  Alex saw me reflected in the mirror in the mirror, loitering naked there, and said colloquially, “C’mown in here, my preddy nekked guurl.  I would’ve asked you to come with me, but this isn’t very romantic.”
“You’re really here.”  I hugged him from behind, wanting to feel my skin on his skin.  He took off his pants as I held on and bent with him, and duck-walked us over to the sink to brush his teeth.  I couldn’t let go of him and I reckon he didn’t want me to.  While he saw to his nightly necessaries, I kissed his warm back up as far as I could reach and let my hands slide down to caress his underwearlessness.  Roas’n’ear sauntered in with Ormolu behind him and began telling his buddy everything I’d done while he was gone.  I reminded Alex that the vocalizing kitty told lies and he shouldn’t believe half of what he said.  Alex spit toothpaste through his grin at the cats, turned 180° and squeezed me tight against his hardening cock, “Jamesy, I love you,” he whispered.
He led me to bed, neither of us requiring words.  Our need for each other was palpable.  I laid back on the pillows, gently pulling Alex with me.  We found each other effortlessly as a hand does a pocket.  Alex moved within me slowly, eliciting soft, lyric, trusting sounds of contentment.  Every moment, every breath was ours alone and we had all the time in the world to pleasure ourselves in each other.  I saw my life in Alex’s warm blue eyes like the sea reflects the sky.  Our bodies were urging us forward.  The quest would not remain static and no amount of poetic, velvety feelings could make this melding into each other last a moment longer.  Alex quickened the pace as our mutual sine qua non demanded.  My orgasm soared through me with myriad needles of exquisite fire as I felt Alex’s cock pulse with his own rhapsodic cries of relinquishing himself utterly.  Or I could just say that we were still in the same bed so to speak with the hot, carnal coupling, and it didn’t take much to make us both come hard enough to bend rebar – quick but effective.
Afterwards, Alex kissed me properly to keep his dick hard enough to easily give me another tickling orgasm, lesser in force, that made us both giggle as it pushed him out of me.  Kisses everywhere until our eyes became sleep-heavy.  We slept fitfully, twined ‘round each other such that not even words could fit between us.
I awoke from sweet dreams to my lover’s nine-inch steel easing into my tight, rapidly waking warmth, making my eyelids flutter open at the welcome invasion.  I must have felt his insistent hardon and sleepily opened for him, consciously unaware, until the exquisite fullness of his cock buried deeply roused me.  Alex must have been in that misty realm between sleep and cognizance.  He pliably let me suggest with a nudge that he roll from his side to his back.  His eyes remained closed, and his relaxed breathing made no change as I energetically but calmly had my way with him.  (I fucked him hard with slow, gentle motions so as not to startle him awake.  I wanted it, but I was trying to be nice.)  It slowly dawned on him that he was home – that it was me having a thrill ride rather than his hand around his cock full of wishful thinking.  He came to himself during one of my whispered plaintive demands to fuck me amid the string of every vulgar phrase I could muster in re: my need for his cock.  Alex opened his eyes, smiled, and murmured, “Oh fuck, baby, I will fucking fuck you,” as he easily flipped me onto my back and thrust into me until I squealed at the sheer size of him being stuffed determinedly into my needy self.  My pleasure incensed him to accelerate his efforts as he demanded, “Fucking come for me.  Right now!  Oh, fuck.  Oh fuck!”  And I did.  Oh, I so did as he filled me with his elemental offering of his love that was mine alone.
Our unique ability to attain mutual orgasms had been in play from the beginning and was probably one reason we couldn’t seem to stay away from each other.  We remained in sync in bed, regardless of the periodic extended inability to practice our genitality.  The fucking was still perfect and adamantly ours.  Alex sighed contentedly, “Good morning, my love.  Sleep well?”  He teased me with the withdrawal of his softening cock as he knew the play would draw out our common jiz for comment on its copiousness and placement on my person.  I always wore it down my leg[s] proudly from arena to cleanup.  “You have a delightful wake up call, Skarsgård.  We’ve never awakened to actual fucking, have we?”  I commented to his shoulder.  
“You never cease to amaze me, älskling flicka (darling girl).”  Alex had pulled back from me to look at my face.  I knew he was seriously loving me when he brought out the Swedish.  I could see in his eyes that although he was still travel worn, he was so glad to be home with me in his arms.  I thought my heart would break for the love of him.  We kissed each other for many minutes, our hands roaming with refamiliarizing caresses.
“You’re thinner, babe.  Too much lawyering and not enough me?”  Alex asked a question I wasn’t about to answer.  “You know I want enough to hold onto.  You have a fine ass, if I do say so.”
“I’ve always worked from a broad foundation.”  I had moved down his muscular chest and had my ear covering his bellybutton; it didn’t work like a seashell with the sound of the ocean.  “No worries, I’ll have dessert.”  I moved further down and began to kiss his resting warrior.
“Not right now you won’t.  Your old man is a bit jet lagged.  Anyway, you’re sweet enough, counselor.  I’ll swear to it under oath.”  Alex gently tugged me upwards to kiss my lips.  He grabbed two handfuls of my ample bum and groaned.  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he sighed when the kissing subsided.
“Love is blind, sweet man,” I whispered as I rubbed my cheek over his morning scruff close to his ear.  He wouldn’t shave today – just for me he said but Alex was like all the other men of my acquaintance, my daddy included, who would rather shave their legs than their faces every day of the world.
Morning sex never failed to invite us to begin the day grateful for each other and eagerly communicative.  We had agreed early on to purposefully not mention the finite time Alex had to spend at home.  So we began as we meant to go on, unhurried, comfortably taking the day as it came rather than packing every moment with something meant to be meaningful and screeching “I love you”s at each other every five minutes.  We refused to live like every day was our last together – even the last day of each visit was no more special than any other.  It was still difficult to put on a happy face driving Alex to the airport (I couldn’t bear for Alex to take the MARTA train since he would be tantalizingly close for another 30 minutes but out of my reach.), but by god I gave it my best effort and shed my tears out of Alex’s sight.  After all, how could he comfort me and why should I inflict guilt for my sadness at his work that took him away and brought him such fulfillment?  I surely did know the job was dangerous when I took it – with both hands greedily.  The leaving was difficult for Alex too.  We probably spent too much time gazing wistfully into each other’s eyes at our goodbyes as it was.  When we were together, we were so, as if each day would last forever.  I never asked how long forever was.
Quickly showered, we cooked breakfast together and ate, taking kisses like the purposefully unwed, year-into-it newlyweds we still thought ourselves and chatting about just everything and some nothing.  We stopped short of sickeningly feeding each other and baby-talking pet names ad nauseam.  We do have limits with the treacle.  We went about life as normally as we could and tried not to gross each other out.  This fine morning, I cleaned up our meal, Alex took calls, etc., needing to manage his “movie bidness” now that he had lit geographically.  I fed the cats & read the paper.  We tried to just be us, calm and collected, learning some of the ways we each were set in.
Just as when Alex would first leave and I would find myself talking to his absence; when he was first back home, I could forget he was there if he was out of my sightline.  We laughed about that very thing when I was reading the paper that morning and Alex was upstairs unpacking or “doing around”.  He was fairly quiet in his comings and goings around the house.  He came up behind me and sweetly kissed my neck.  Startled from my reverie, I screamed like a girl and threw my coffee, cup and all, into the kitchen backsplash across the room, shattering it.  Alex hugged me then, “Damn, girl, you’ve got a good throwing arm.  I’m glad you weren’t aiming at me.”  He apologized through his laughter and said that when he had first gotten to location, he caught himself talking to me like I was by his side.  I suppose it was a natural reaction to being parted, but I wondered if I would ever get used to the necessity of us being often alone.
“Just slap Fil for that if you see him,” I teased as I nestled into the cuddle that I think I missed most when Alex was gone.  In his arms I could believe everything was right with the world, even though I surely knew better. We had begun to call our not there selves “Fil” for Favorite Invisible Lover.  We shared stories about Fil’s escapades often and would sometimes call each other Fil if one wasn’t paying the required amount of attention.  “Fil” became a private term of endearment for each other and helped us cope with our geographical separations.
Early on we had found Alex had trouble folding up to drive my little car that I zoomed through Atlanta, and so he and Big Dug thought it timely to go car shopping.  They came back with the news that the hybrid Lexus RX, chosen for the headroom/legroom and the lesser impact on the environment, would be delivered in a couple of days.  Alex winked at me and said, “You’ll like it, Jamesy, it’s maybe big enough to fuck in.”  He knew I appreciated the hybrid part of his purchase, but I had little interest in cars in general.  Best to go right to the use I would relate to.  I laughed at his enthusiasm, promising, “We’ll christen it then.” 
My favorite boys immediately began to call Alex’s purchase, the “extra-large lambskin in black” as the ride was glossy noir black with soft black leather interior; or Alex called it “the rubber” in his best southern slang.  Big Dug laughed every time.  There would be plenty of room in the garage to accommodate whatever-Alex-wanted-he-should have.  He didn’t require a lot of anything except maybe Thai food, entertaining me and head.  I enjoyed all of those whatever-Alex-wanted-he-should-haves, especially as Alex liked to tease, “Fischer really has [a] good head ...”  If he said it in company, everyone heard the unsaid “on her shoulders” or “for the law”, but I knew what the compliment was really for.  Hell, anyone could say I’m smart, or a true smartass.
We found it most sensible that we share the office room at home.  It was large with many windows looking out the back of the house at the Piedmont/Downtown view and had French doors out to a small balcony.  We moved furniture around and ensconced the desk Alex had found at our friend’s, Louis Desfosse’s, antique store on Cheshire Bridge Road.  Louis was French Canadian and such a card; he could find humor everywhere.  He had lost an eye in a childhood accident that he wore a stylish eyepatch over.  He was the “prettiest gay pirate” I would ever see he said, and laughingly called his bad eye “the raisinette.”  Louis had a great “eye” for interesting, unusual antiques.  I knew Alex would enjoy his shop and Alex and Louis hit it off right away.  Occasionally Alex and I would take a few bottles of wine and raise a glass with Louis at the shop.  Alex liked to practice his conversation “parlez francaise” with Louis and make fun of me who speaks college French poorly and with a southern accent (not from the south of France).  I never mind the teasing since I get kissed á francaise every time I need a translation.  Such harmless fun, Alex and Louis have taken it up as well.  Sometimes the wine is perfect, the French is sparse, and the kissing is rife.  Voulez vous coucher avec moi?  I was learning the important phrases for genteel conversation.
Our desks didn’t face each other so we assumed some level of privacy even when we were both working there.  There was still room for Alex to exercise on the soft carpet if he was intent on distracting me.  We both spent a good deal of time in the office, and it didn’t take long to get used to sharing the space.  I could feel his presence without having to maneuver to see him.  The office was the spot where I most talked to Fil when Alex was newly absent.  I told Alex he needn’t worry unless Fil began to answer me.
As Alex and I were getting together, Big Dug was very supportive and treated Alex like a good friend to please me, at first.  Later, we all got to know each other very well (perhaps I’ll tell you that story one day), and Alex and Big Dug formed their own friendship.  Alex joined Big Dug’s neighborhood gym, Boot Camp Fitness & Training Center and they worked out there regularly.  Big Dug would run interference for Alex as necessary if a gay fanboy got pushy.  There wasn’t much of that, and Alex got to be just one of the guys.  He was able to integrate a few of his movie acquaintances into the social fray, so we developed a fair-sized circle of gay/straight/etc. business/social friends/comfortable acquaintances. 
Occasionally in a social situation, Alex or I would call the other “Fil” to get one’s attention or to ask for personal interaction without actually asking.  No one could understand what we were doing.  Was Alex’s pet name Phil?  Or a nickname for one of his Swedish names?  Why would he call me Phil?  Did we have man sex? (I wasn’t even sure what that last one meant.) Questions abounded that we all ignored.  Big Dug knew all because he was my major source of comfort when Alex had to be away, but he would never tell it.  Perhaps all the mystery of us kept us interesting past the “oooh he’s so famous, what does he see in her” talk.  I suppose we looked to be so in ordinary hetero love that no one dared ask any personal question.  Just as well.  I don’t think one bit of the “us” was ordinary and they didn’t really want to know.  Big Dug would kid us that he could impart the info when asked, but then he’d have to kill the curious, and none of us had so many friends we wouldn’t miss those mysteriously lost.
Fil was to blame for one public episode that happened when Alex was on a late-night TV show doing press for a movie: the host came into Alex’s dressing room before the show to clarify something and Alex was looking in the mirror casually talking to Fil.  The host saw a bit of it before Alex saw him but didn’t mention it – until they were on camera.  The host kiddingly asked who Alex was talking to before the show.  Alex seized the opportunity to send me a love note.  He said he was reminding Fil how much he missed him.  The host asked if Phil was one of Alex’s personalities or just an imaginary friend.  Alex winked and laughingly said that he preferred not to talk about his private life, effectively cutting off further teasing speculation.  I loved him for keeping us private, but we both knew that eventually his fans, et al. would have to know something about my existence.  We seemed to be unable to find the time to meet with his publicist about it.  I don’t want the spotlight.  After all, Alex is the pretty one.
Not long ago, I unthinkingly called out for Fil to muster my own wherewithal to open a pickle jar that was too large for my hand, and I’d already beaten it against the counter to break the seal to no avail.  I had forgotten that Alex was home.  Out of sight; out of mind – not really.  We had become more used to being alone than together.  I often called on Fil to bolster myself as I’ve heard some people call on a higher power to give them strength.  I’ll be damned if Alex didn’t fly to my aid.  He easily opened the jar with his big paws and nuzzling my neck said, “Baby, I’m here.  Fuck Fil.  What else can I help you with?”  As he wrapped me in his arms, I murmured against his chest, “Everything, goddamn it.”  I was learning that the value of being able to depend on another so intimately far outweighed the price of loss of a little independence.
I believe that even after a year of attachment, Alex was as puzzled as I as to the mystery of the why of it.  Asking each other got no real answers.  It helped that whatever the chemistry was between us, it would not be subdued and showed no signs of waning.  When we met, I knew Alex was an actor and assumed he showed me nothing of himself.  Conversely, I hid nothing from the very beginning as I knew I had nothing to lose because I would never “have” him.  I was my own snarky self, warts and all (figuratively – I am fairly unblemished dermatologically speaking).  Alex has said that my lack of the usual worshipful attitude threw him off his playbook and he found to his surprise that he was interacting with me rather than just acting.  He liked it and he said that our lack of age difference made me easy to talk to and twice as attractive.  I had laughed at my boy then, explaining that if I had found him twice as attractive, I would have had a stroke on the spot and I wasn’t sure my arm would reach that far.  Even when he’s been disheveled, sweaty, totally engrossed in some uninteresting masculine pursuit, I have found him riveting, like a fine painting.  I could look at the lines in his face and find many stories; or simply watching him moving carelessly, just walking or such, could be to me the finest ballet.  And when he sleeps, he seems a comfortable, comforting fixture in the soothing rhythms of his body in quiet repose.  I have told him that he smells like everything will be OK, as I told myself that first night we purposefully slept together.  He replied with a smirk that was the scent of his bodywash.  He’s still an ass often, but I have been lucky to have found my ass.  So many people spend their lives looking for their asses, hence my thriving family law practice.
I’ve never pressed Alex to explain to me why he’s so attached to me.  There might be no explanation that language can express, and he shows me consistently that actions speak louder.  I do believe the affectionate caresses and his spoken “I love you”s.  And he does keep coming back – even though he has many other places he could be.  I’ve never been good with faith in what I can’t see or explain, but I reckon I have found faith in the love we share with each other – and Fil; there is Fil.  I trust Alex and I intend to go on doing just that until he shows me plainly I shouldn’t.  I know forever isn’t. 
As we became more comfortable with each other, I spoke to Alex about taking up something creative while he was home besides competing with himself on the number of screaming orgasms he could give me.  I had to go back to work.  I loved my practice too.  Alex understood and was proud of my accomplishments in the law.  He rarely came to the office except to take me to lunch only because he missed me.  His presence was such a distraction to Beauchamp Cow-orkers, LLC – they became so dysfunctional that telephones went unanswered and drool cups were passed among them.  I think that Alex would see to his appearance particularly on a lunch day just to tease the staff unmercifully.  Alex was always polite and spoke to them by name, but they couldn’t cope with that surprising level of beauty that was just a guy.  They preferred to think my significant imaginary.  It was just as well that Alex rarely visited, he couldn’t keep his hands off me no matter where we happened to be, and the lunch always led to an afternoon of lovemaking.  My staff knew I wouldn’t be back to the office when Alex appeared to whisk me away. 
One evening over a lovely dinner Alex had prepared, he poured more wine and made a toast to us and the love that was ours the Fates had allowed.  I thought he was going to say that he had to leave in a couple days for some project blah blah.  I always quit listening after the “leave” was said to concentrate on not allowing the tears to escape down my cheeks.  But he didn’t say that word to my plastered-on smile. 
Instead, he said that he had been thinking about taking more behind the camera roles rather than or in addition to the in front of the camera ones.  He said that in a minute he would look like his father, and wouldn’t be fucking hot forever, makeup or not.  I interjected there that he would too be fucking hot forever and he should check with me on that later as I was sure that I did have the last word on the subject, and anyway that Stellan looked pretty damn good to me and continued to work as much as he wanted.  He kissed my hand and continued his thoughts.  He said he was thinking of taking fewer movies with more roles of responsibility.  He said that maybe he would find one he could direct and shoot it here.  I pulled out my truthful, supportive phrase, “Alex, you should do what you want to do.  You’ve chosen wisely in your career, and you should continue to follow your interests.  You know I always love you whether we can be together or not.”
Alex gently pulled me from my chair over onto his lap, “Shhh, min älskling (my love) , I’m trying to tell you something.”  He kissed me to underline my silence.  “I’m not scheduled for a while.  I’m taking some time to be with you, my love.  I’m gonna teach you to cuss me in Swedish.  Now let me have that sweet ass of yours.”
I was rendered mute by what he’d just said.  The fact that he was staying for a while hadn’t quite sunk in as Alex kissed my neck while unbuttoning my blouse, reaching around to unfasten my bra.  As I realized what he’d said, I threw my arms around his neck, hindering his exploration of my naked breasts, and exclaimed, “Fuck you!  No!  Fuck me!  Really?  Oh, I love you!  I love you!”  I was kissing his face everywhere I could land one.
“Yeah, really, babe.  Fuck us both.”  Alex stood up with me around his neck and reached to unzip my work skirt.  As it fell to the floor, he pushed my slip and panties down with it.  As his hands reached my thighs, he felt how much I wanted him.  He put one finger into me and groaned with desire.  That particular sound he made always got me hotter than damnit for him.  He pulled his hand away with a palm full of my lube that he wiped on his shirt, brushed our few remaining dinner dishes to one side of the table and lifted me onto the tablecloth.  He ripped his t-shirt and jeans off in one continuous motion.  His dick was so hard I thought I could see the veins pulsing.  As he thrust his tongue into my mouth, he thrust into me with a grunt of effort that ended in “mmmmmmmmmmm.”  I leaned back and Alex draped my legs over his forearms and proceeded to lovingly, fiercely fuck me, rattling the dishes and jolting silverware to the floor with a clatter.
I gave it back to him as best I could, using his forearms to push against to thrust my hips up to meet his driving cock.  “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come!”  I moaned.  “I know, baby, give it, I’ll give you another.”  Alex was in his stride.  He flinched at my first spasm to keep from losing his load right then, as I wailed loud enough to wake the dead.
As I came back to him, Alex kissed me deeply, never slowing his strokes.  “Good girl, fuck me, baby.”  Before long, I was close again.  I could feel the fire about to explode.  I was only cognizant of Alex’s cock stroking me and his moans becoming louder and more insistent.  I screamed his name as my fire engulfed us.  Alex roared and shook with each shot from his cock.  Our cries must have rattled the windows.  Alex collapsed onto me gasping and laughing.  I tried to breathe and choked out, “We’re damn good at that.”
My phone rang.  Assuming it might be important, Alex stood up, withdrew and reached it for me before plopping down in a chair.  I was still sprawled on the dinner table as I brought the phone to my ear.  “Miz Beauchamp?  This is Sgt. Rice.  Is that you?  Are you alright in there? Janet Paxton, your neighbor, called, said there was an awful commotion inside like somebody might be gettin’ murdered.”
It was our neighborhood security service.  I could barely control my giggles.  Alex looked at me questioningly.  I said calmly into the phone, “Sergeant, Alex and I are fine and happy.  Sorry we got a little loud.  Thank you for the call and your concern.”  I hung up the phone and let it fall from my hand as I struggled to sit up.  I looked at Alex and we both burst out laughing like we’d lost our minds.
As we picked up clothes, dishes and other detritus that had been in our way, and while we were so humorously attuned, I laughingly suggested Alex write that book (“Remember when you fake fucked whatsername and what happened in your trailer that time?”) about the ins and outs of the fucked-up plying of the art of acting.  He considered it and allowed as how I should write one about the fucked-up art of loving a living, breathing, fine-fucking actor.  We could write one together. 
I wondered if he would be home long enough to eventually chafe me inside and out – I looked forward to it.  Sweet Jeezus, he was a difficult proposition I couldn’t do without.  He knew I knew I was got.
*******************
*You will be wondering about one definition, I’m sure: What exactly is “cheating” in a relationship that includes so much time apart?  We were very comfortable with our shared belief that a significant relationship is one that holds all one’s emotional side, provides one comfort, understanding, and exclusive love from the knowledge that no other person knows either of the two the way they know each other.  That love is unique to the two and must never be given to another.  Physical consorting, on the other hand, is perfectly fine as long as it is deemed recreational, and no promises of repetition or shared feelings (excepting gratitude for a good come) are made.  A little dick sucking and tangential somethings to get off are all integral to the plot.  Ever since Alex had invited Big Dug, my best friend in the world and long-ago lover, into our bed one evening, any and all camaraderie I might share with him was approved; and I had toys.  I was never one to look for meaningful sex anyway; it didn’t fit my plans for my life – until this weird actor came along.  The upshot of that is this: It doesn’t matter where you put your dick; what matters is the intent with which it is placed.  You all don’t have to understand this.  It works for us.  Now hush.
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This is the end of this novelette. Whew. Now read Alex's Christmas Balls out loud around the fire on Christmas Eve. heheh.
@rockifresa @m-f1 @beakvp @trueblood825 @howaboutboth1
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wolvesofinnistrad · 1 year
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I know people have been arguing for years that "CW casting" aka 20 something's playing teens is bad because it gives teens unrealistic expectations of what they should look like, and I get that, but I think the recent shit that teen actors have been put through online shows that while no one deserves that shit, we especially should do more to protect teens from this.
I don't wanna see Millie Bobby Brown countdown clocks from creepy men, I don't wanna see grown women thirsting over 17 year old Dylan sprayberry, I don't wanna see kit connor bullied out of the closet. There are countless more, from Disney to Nickelodeon to literally anywhere else and I'm tired.
So please Hollywood if you absolutely must have teens, especially highschool age ones, for once listen to the CW and just cast adults. At least they're a little better equipped to deal with the consequences.
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writer-in-theory · 2 years
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you & i are folklore — part three
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summary: you knew he'd haunt you with all of the what-ifs. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst with ambiguous ending content warnings: 17+ only, cheating, arguments, minor language word count: 3k a/n: here it is, the final part of this trilogy. it was so interesting for me to write and is a little more different from anything else i've worked on before. thanks to the anon for suggesting a trilogy based on these songs, and thanks to everyone who has supported this so far <3
you & i are folklore masterlist masterlist previous || next
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You remember the exact moment your childhood ended. It was a day in middle school when you’d been talking excitedly about when you would find your own Prince Charming. Your teacher looked at you and told you that fairytales weren’t real, that expecting a Prince Charming of your very own was unrealistic. You’d gone home heartbroken that day, wondering why you’d spent so many years of your life hearing about them when all it did was get your hopes up.
When you met Spencer, he made it seem like fairytales could be possible. The moment SSA Gideon exited his classroom and asked you if you’d gotten to meet Dr. Reid, you knew. You knew he’d lied, and you knew that you wanted to see more of him despite it. So you let him show up to your training session on Thursday, you taught him pointers on his weaponry use, and only made it easy on him when he’d admitted the truth. You smiled then, asking if he wanted to get dinner with you sometime.
You thought for sure he understood that was a date, as were all of the dozens of others the two of you went on. And when he asked if you wanted to stay over at his apartment, you thought it was because he loved you. He’d even said those words before. Those three words that were meant to prove you’d found the one you wanted to be with.
So you let yourself fall headfirst for Spencer Reid.
You let yourself fall after every date, and every night spent with him, and all the times you surprised each other with lunch at work.
Traveling back to Seattle was one of the toughest things you’d ever had to do. But this was Drew, who had been your first friend in the FBI. The two of you had gone through the Academy together and had even ended up at the same field office. You’d gone through so much together there was no way you could let him get hurt.
Not when he’d taken on your assignment. The assignment that had gotten you so hurt that you couldn’t be in the field for years, the assignment that busted your cover open so wide that you had to move across the country for safety.
The assignment that had left you bitter for years. Everyone else had gotten to succeed in their jobs, had gotten to truly help people after going through all the hardship of proving themselves for the job. And what did you get? A position at the training academy. 
But without any of that, you would have never met Spencer.
Before, you might’ve found that to be a blessing. Instead, now you wondered if it all hadn’t been a curse. Because here you were, still living in Virginia and working at Quantico. You spent your days trying to avoid Spencer, wincing at the mentions of the BAU. You loved your work and loved getting to hear about your trainees doing wonderful things after they left you. Even when you’d heard Seaver landed a role with your ex, you smiled for her and tried not to show how upset you were at the mention of his team.
Because in your toughest moments, he’d screwed you.
Staying in Seattle for that long hadn’t been in your plan. You’d gotten Drew back but the case wasn’t over. When your old team admitted they were struggling to take down the people who’d hurt you so badly, you knew that there would be no returning to your old life. Their faces would haunt your dreams until you took them down for good, so you’d called Spencer and told him you were staying another couple of weeks. And when another couple of weeks turned to months you told yourself that your boyfriend wouldn’t mind, that he would understand.
He knew what being taken felt like, he would understand not wanting to rest until those people paid for everything they’d taken from you.
It wasn’t until someone from Virginia called you that anything began to feel off. Inez wasn’t your best friend by any means, but as one of the front desk attendants, she knew a lot about every single agent in the building. If anyone had news and rumors to spread, it would be her.
It wasn’t a good thing that she was calling you now. Looking back, you supposed you knew what she was going to say before she’d even gotten the words out. Because what else could it have been? What else would have made sense except “Y/N, I saw Spencer with another woman today. Why didn’t you tell me the two of you broke up?”
It was a lonely flight back to Virginia. You were sure your heartbreak was obvious to anyone who dared meet your gaze on the plane. It was obvious to the flight attendant when you’d asked for one more drink than what was socially acceptable on a plane, and it was far too obvious when you looked at the home screen of your phone and winced upon seeing his smiling face staring back up at you.
The apartment that had once felt like home felt cold now. As soon as Spencer opened the front door, you knew that everything Inez had told you was true. 
Because now, Spencer wasn’t happy to see you.
And honestly, that was the most heartbreaking part of it all. After so many months of missing him, after years of being happy together, looking at him and seeing the dread clear on his face completely crushed you.
“Tell me it’s not true,” you begged, though knew that if you went searching you’d likely find another woman in the apartment you’d once called home. Never once had you expected this kind of betrayal from him, not from sweet Spencer who had kissed all of your scars and promised you were beautiful. The man who had held you nearly every night since you’d met and said he’d always be there for you.
“Y/N, I d—” And somehow, you knew Spencer would try to talk you out of it. Despite everything he said, he was good with his words. How could he not be, after spending so much time with his team? The scary part was, if you let him talk now there was a good chance he could talk you out of everything you came here to do. 
“That better be the truth coming out of your mouth right now.” You couldn’t take anything else, not after months of him telling you he loved you, of saying he missed you and couldn’t wait for you to get back. How many times had he said that while she had been laying right next to him? Did the other woman even know that you existed, or had Spencer promised her the world too?
“Why are you here, Y/N?” Spencer snapped them, expression shutting off in cold anger that was surprising even to you. “You left for four months, what else was I supposed to do?”
“Not fuck another woman in our bed!” you screamed, the words tearing through your throat so harshly you knew your voice would be raspy tomorrow. 
“My bed!” Spencer corrected in just as loud a voice, “You don’t get to be angry, you left!”
“So what, every time you go on a case I get to go whore around whenever I want? Is that what you’re saying?”
“You’re not my girlfriend, you can do whatever you want.”
And fuck, did that sting more than anything else. Spencer could have said anything to you, but this?
“What do you mean?” you asked, body quivering from the frustration flowing through it now. “What do you call the past four years?”
“We never defined what we were,” Spencer pointed out, and it was then that the other woman appeared from around the corner. You knew that was where the bedroom was—you knew this apartment better than you knew your own, at this point. 
You never defined what you were. Through dinner dates, and kisses and hugs, through nights spend so wrapped up in each other you didn’t know where he ended and you began, you’d never defined it?
“What did you think we were? You thought I was fucking you because we were friends? Saying I loved you for the hell of it? Fuck you, Spencer Reid,” you shouted out, trying your best not to look at the other woman in the room. Because damn it, she was gorgeous. You didn’t know her, thankfully, but that also meant you had no idea where he’d met her. Was she another agent? Was she a barista at your favorite coffee shop? The one where you’d get a coffee for you and Spencer nearly every morning?
“For four years, you never thought to clarify if you were confused? That’s bullshit, and I don’t believe it one second. You just didn’t want to date me,” you continued, feeling all of the anger and stress from the past few months rush back to you all at once. “You think I didn’t see it? Every time you dodged your friends’ questions about me, how you never wanted me to meet them? You could’ve just said it instead of pulling this shit.”
“Say what, Y/N! What could you possibly be talking about?”
“You’re ashamed of me! Just say it, Spencer! I’m the fucking burnt-out expired agent who fell for you! I’m not some flashy, talented BAU agent, and you can’t stand that, can you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Spencer shouted right back, and you knew it was bad because he hardly ever cursed like that. “Why would I have ever been ashamed of you? Clearly, I made the right choice though, look at you! You’ve always been overdramatic, even now!”
“You made the right choice? You sure did make the right fucking choice, Spencer. Have fun with her, I never want to see you again.”
Your duffel bag felt a lot heavier on the way out of the apartment building. Tears blurred your vision but it didn’t matter because you knew the building layout by heart. You got home and immediately collapsed to the ground, back against the front door. The apartment was quiet, a thin layer of dust settled over everything after months of disuse. It felt more hollow than you remembered like you’d left a part of yourself behind at Spencer’s. Maybe you had.
It seemed impossible to get over him, at first. Inez was a star, always letting you know when he was walking into the building so you could avoid ever seeing Spencer again. You’d keep your word on that end—you truly never wanted to see his face again, not after seeing it so twisted up in hateful anger that night.
As the years passed, it got easier to move on. You and Spencer had both made mistakes that night, and had both been responsible for how it had ended up. Maybe the two of you just weren’t meant to be together. And maybe, despite however much you had hoped, fairytales just didn’t exist. Peter would lose Wendy, the glass slipper wouldn’t fit, and Spencer would leave. Always.
It was far too easy to create a new life in Virginia once accepting this one fact. Suddenly it was okay to pass by Spencer in the halls, to see his team teaching some new profiler recruits. You would say hello to Penelope Garcia and not feel a pang in your chest at the way Spencer had hidden you from them all so easily.
And suddenly, Inez was throwing you a birthday party and you weren’t upset that Spencer wouldn’t be getting an invitation. You could have fun with friends and never wonder how that relationship could have ended up. After all, the two of you had been far too young to expect forever to magically happen. This was real life, where love was hard and life was even harder.
The party was fun. It was everything you could ever hope for in a party, in fact. Your friends were all gathered around you and for the first time in years not one of them brought up Spencer. You were happy.
It was only right then, you supposed, that Spencer Reid himself would ruin that.
He always seemed to have perfect timing, even back then.
Seeing his face on the front porch stunned you beyond words. He was much older than the last time you’d stood this close—his hair longer and curlier, facial hair on his once smooth face, hazel eyes a little more sad and worn, speaking to the years of hurt he’d experienced. Of course, you’d heard of everything that had happened since you’d last seen him. Losing Emily, getting her back, prison.
Still, this was the man who’d looked at you and told you that you weren’t good enough. The one who had once made you feel more special than anyone else ever had then discarded you at first chance. You were the old cardigan he outgrew his use for, the one crumpled to the bottom of his bed and waiting for someone to care enough to find you.
“Y/N,” Spencer spoke after what felt like forever, voice hesitant even now. “I missed you.”
“You don’t get to miss me,” you offered instead, shutting the front door so none of your friends would hear this conversation. They all still hated Spencer after what he’d done to you, after all the nights you spent crying to them about everything you’d lost. Surely if they saw him standing here now, they’d pull you away before he could say what he came to say.
And call you a masochist, but maybe you wanted to hear him out, just one more time.
“I know,” Spencer admitted, expression falling and losing that hope you’d long since abandoned before. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. Everywhere I look, I see you. I think about you on the couch with me on the weekends, and you showing me how to cook because I never really learned how. When I go to sleep, I see the first time we met, at the Academy after I’d been convincing Gideon to come back.”
It’d be a lie to say you never thought of him either. Sometimes, when the night was too quiet and the world too dark, you imagined what the two of you could have been. If you would’ve forgiven him that night, if the two of you could have talked it out instead of yelling at each other, if he wouldn’t have assumed you didn’t care enough about him to want to date.
“You cheated on me,” you told him instead of admitting any of it. It was easier to hate Spencer, to wish he’d never come around. You could curse him, could blame him for everything, and you could someday be happy.
But instead, he came back. He came back and there he was, standing on the front porch of your birthday party saying all of the things you’d wished he’d said years ago.
“I would never intentionally cheat on you, Y/N,” Spencer promised, “I really didn’t think we were together. I should’ve known, but I didn’t.”
“It’s in the past,” you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself like that might save yourself from this. Because seeing him now, seeing how you might’ve grown older with him, pained you more than you’d thought it would. It brought up all those moments you’d spent with him—laughing over a new recipe together, curled up with one another on the couch, and placing a hand over his book so you could press a gentle kiss to his lips. 
It was all over now, left behind in the bottom of a cardboard box with an old cardigan and a thousand memories.
“I want to try again,” Spencer admitted, stealing every breath from your lungs. “I know we made mistakes before, but I think I’ve always known you were it for me. You’re the one. And I understand if you never want to see me again, but I couldn’t stand the thought of letting you think I never cared about you. I always meant it when I said I loved you.”
How could you possibly answer that? After so many years, after all the time spent trying to piece yourself together without him, he wanted back? Could you start over? Could you look at him and never see that woman who he’d placed between you?
There were too many questions without answers, too many ‘what-ifs’, and too many risks.
And yet, despite the years and distance between you, this was the same Spencer you had once loved. His eyes still sparkled when he looked at you like you were his favorite person of all time. His hands were still restless, picking at his own fingers as he waited patiently for your answer. You were sure if you saw his apartment, it would still be the same cozy place you’d always loved.
This was still Spencer Reid, the man who had captured your heart and once taught you that you were lovable. The man you’d once wished would come back to you.
The one you maybe still wanted to come back to you.
And so, looking at him now on the front porch of your friend’s house, while a dozen people celebrated another year of your life just inside, you knew your answer.
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thewomanintheshadow · 5 months
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My biggest obstacle in life
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I have to confess I have a problem. I don't know if it's a lack of discipline or just a compulsive behaviour that I can't control it but it's a big problem for me. It's like a cycle and even though sometimes I manage to fight it, other times I just give in to it.....Mental Cravings. I have been binge eating for the past 17 years of my life.
Growing up, I had a very loving mother who cooked delicious food for the whole family. The last memories I have of being skinny was when I was about 5-6 years old. I remember afterwards, I started gaining wait consistently.
Weight has always been discussed in my family and even from a very young age everybody would comment on how perfect I was in every way except when it came to my body weight. My mom had issues with her pregnancies when she was younger and after her last pregnancy she gained a massive amount of weight. I knew that she was struggling and it did affect her confidence since she used to be very beautify and quite the skinny looking model in her early 20s before she started having children. However, after gaining weight, I feel like she lost the confidence she used to have and to an extent she projected that on to me. My mother consistently reminded me of how awful it is to be fat and that it's very important for a girl to be thin because that way you are the most beautiful and the most successful woman. I mean.....even till this day I do agree with her and she was always right but at the time hearing her say that consistently was so annoying. She would consistently compare me to my skinny cousins or celebrities or actresses in American movies and would make comments such as "you are so much beautiful than them, they are only pretty because they are skinny".
Food had always been an issue for me since the beginning of my teenage hood and as far as I can remember I have laid on my pillow every night and thought about how I was gonna wake up and "go on a diet" the next day. Back in the early 2000s, the skinny models on Tv were the ideal beauty goddesses. Sometimes, these beautiful models and actresses were interviewed on their diet and would make comments such as "I only eat salads" or "I only eat one banana till the evening" or "I diet until I have lost all the weight". My mom would hear these and would look at me and say "see, these people don't eat as much, thats why they are so skinny". My father was the worst because he would consistently make comments about my body and how I should be eating less or lose weight. I always knew that they were just trying to help me but I think that was the beginning of my yoyo dieting journey.
Yoyo dieting started for me at an early stage of life. I would watch these beautiful girls in the movies such as Kristen Stewarts and Nina Dobrev and just fantasize about having their bodies. I would actually fantasize and visualize looking like a girl who had an hour glass figure and long straight blow-blowdryed soft hair. My hair was black, short and curly and I did not appreciate it. That was also the beginning of social media when my dad brought a laptop home and introduced me to the world of internet back in early 2010s. I quickly became introduced to the world of YouTube and started searching for videos such as "How to lose weight fast" to see if I could find a solution to my big problem. Deep down I was so tired and frustrated and just hated my body. I noticed from a very young age that my hips was much wider than the typically beautiful hour glass figure. Later I found out that I had an apple shaped figure.
Eventually after years of yoyo dieting, occasionally going to bed hungry not having dinner because "feeling full = feeling fatness" I developed a bigger problem with food and my habits in general. When I started exercising, I developed a huge unrealistic expectation that I was going to become skinning just within a matter of 2 months. Spoiler alert! it did not work like that. Even though I was exercising, I was still eating high calorie foods that where not "processed" or "fast food" but still did not help me lose weight. I became more and more frustrated and more desperate with time. I would concisely diet for weeks, and then binge eat and fall into my previous habits. This habits carried on for years. I thinking the last time I was 55 kgs was when I was in fourth grade where I was disgusting weight with a girl my age and she said "I weight 45 kgs " and I said "me too". Later I found out that I actually weighed 10 kilos extra than what she weighed. I started losing more and more confidence and I need that affected my ability to connect with people or having any true socializing skills. I hid myself in my room and started watching YouTube videos as my form of coping mechanism. I didn't even want to study anymore because I lost all motivation. I was also living in country/city at that time where if I wanted to go to the park, my mom had to drive 40 minutes until we reached the park. I could not even go outside and play by myself in the streets because it was not appropriate for a girl nor was it safe. If I wanted to go jogging outside, cars would actually stop and people would harass/talk to you. So....my life became YouTube. My screen time increased and I spent hours on my desk trying to fantasize about a world I did not have access to at the time.
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spaceshipkat · 2 years
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A/ster queried Lightlark for 10 years and was rejected for 10 years. She's 27 now, which means she wrote Lightlark at 17... and I get the feeling she edited very little if none at all in these 10 years. Just like Mess wrote ToG when she was a teen.
The book definitely needed a couple more rounds of editing at the very least. The writing is juvenile (teens are so smart! start treating them as such!), the rep virtually non existent (one relevant character is poc and gay, yay tokenism!), the misogyny ("pure", not like other girls protagonist, the slut-shaming). These are deep issues with the author's and editor's mentality and aren't easy to get rid of. But more editing would've definitely improved the writing style, at least.
But the publisher was in a hurry...
10 years of rejections, then A/ster makes a viral tiktok and bam! one week later she's contacted and signed by a publisher. The hype continues, A/ster sells the movie rights. The publisher does everything in their power to ride the wave and publish the book as quickly as possible.
Less than a year and a half from that tiktok, Lightlark is published... after 10 years of rejections.
I'm sorry to sound like an asshole, but rejections happen for a reason. Yes, agents want something that's easy to sell, the industry churns out books like a fast food chain, creativity isn't always welcome... but sometimes your writing is just bad? This wasn't a case of Lightlark being "too mold-breaking", too creative to have a place and a market in YA. Not at all. It's just like any other YA I've read by super hyped authors.
Something something publishing is a business that only cares for money and hype
A/ster also acts like this is her first novel when it's not. I understand it's her YA debut, but she acts like her duology doesn't exist. I know her agent dropped her because the duology wasn't as successful as expected and A/ster couldn't stop talking about the Lightlark project, but still.
The biggest issue is that people were promised a "diverse Hunger Games meets ACOTAR". Diverse being the key word. And people were really excited because A/ster is Latina.
Her parents are both millionaires, she and her twin sisters were given money to start their various businesses, but her mom does come from Colombia. So even though A/ster is a rich, privileged, young pretty girl (like most YA authors atm) people were excited. Especially poc.
Baiting diversity is just so low 🤢🤦🏾‍♀️
the timeline is, as i understand it, more along the lines of she’s queried various books for years (and anyone—not you, anon, but i’ve seen a lot of people throw doubt about this—saying it’s unrealistic that she queried for a decade bc she’s only 27 is unfair, and i can use myself as an example bc i too am 27 and have been actively trying to get published since i was 17, having written books from the age of 12) and then signed with her first agent for her middle grade books. those released in 2020 and 2021, but the numbers weren’t doing so hot, probably thanks to the pandemic. Aster meanwhile was writing Lightlark and refusing to work on anything else, even though her agent said no to Lightlark many times (which is a fair thing for agents to do! they know the market better than any writer, so if an agent says “no, work on something else bc this won’t work in the market,” you should take that under serious consideration). bc Aster refused to work on anything else and her agent didn’t want Lightlark, they parted ways (which is also a fair thing, however much it might suck; besides, knowing what we do of Lightlark, i can see why her first agent said no), after which Aster went on tiktok and made her viral video and then, presumably, queried Lightlark with that under her belt. that then got her a new agent, who also then used that viral video to sell Lightlark to her editor, and from there to foreign publishers bc she has like a dozen of them now (or at least did when i last checked).
so yeah, all of this definitely comes down to the publishing industry seeing an easy dollar and deciding to run with it. if they spent more time on edits to make the prose more elegant, the world-building and plot more cohesive, clean up the bad elements you listed, anon, and made the characters more realistic, i could see why publishing decided to publish the book. it does have a premise that would bring a lot of people in (hence why it went viral and why so many people are excited about it) but the premise doesn’t do as promised, and very few of the things Aster claimed were in the book in her various tiktoks are actually in the book, so people feel and very much have been lied to. the ratings on goodreads say more than enough, i think, especially since a good number of the one star reviews are based on those readers having actually read the book/listened to the audiobook (i read a lot of them, so idk why people in various places are acting like most of those one star reviews are people just being mean to Aster).
and to be fair, an author and their publisher acting like an author’s new book is their debut isn’t unheard of. my best friend had that happen to her (though not bc her technical debut was bad or its sales didn’t do well) and i’m sure countless other authors have, too, even if the author doesn’t publish/re-debut under a pen name. it could happen for many reasons, but especially when sales don’t do well and it’d be more marketable to have an author be introduced as a debut vs an established author with mediocre sales. and from what i’ve seen, she still posts about her MG debut on her insta? or at the very least she hasn’t deleted those various posts about it. but, granted, i don’t pay attention to her tiktok so it’s completely possible i just missed her acting like her MG debut never happened.
either way, there’s a lot of hurt she caused by making readers expect things she promised were in the book, not only from a plot/trope standpoint but as an author of color promising to write a book for readers of color who wanted an ac0tar where they actually exist and in center stage. it’s no surprise to me she’s getting a lot of flack for that. like you said, diversity baiting is fucked.
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donnabroadway · 10 months
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To be young, beautiful, and the preference
I recently made a video about the Sprinkle Sprinkle lady, Sheraseven, and how her messaging didn't seem right with me, especially the part of her husband being married and having a girlfriend and her allegedly helping to clean out the wife's bank account, and I was told I didn't get it and they're right. The message is missing me, because at 36, I have lived to see a few things and know that everything she is saying is not completely copacetic and simply unrealistic and don't make sense. When I was 23, I was asked on a date by an older gentleman who then proceeded to ask me if I wanted to be a courtesans, which is another word for escort or, what we call today, a 304. This was not the first or last time I was asked this. I wasn't that type of girl, so I declined but no shame to those who are in the life. I had offers from older men to "take care of me," which was expected as I was young and beautiful and they were older, not necessarily ugly, but older with stable careers and money and we both knew what it was. But I noticed by the time I hit my late 20s, the offers kind of stopped. Not completely, as the man got to be a bit older, but slowed down. I say all that to say, the women like Savannah James and Sheraseven, who can truly have the hypergamous life, at seemingly very little expense, are few and far between and even Shera7 is looking a little funny in the light and Savannah doesn't talk much, so it's easy to project onto her.
I have noticed that most of the discord against Sheraseven and the SprinkleSprinkle movement comes from women in my age range, mid-late 30s to Gen X women in their 50s because we've been through it and we see how the men treat these women when they're done with them and it's not us being bitter that we're "old," it's that we know how it turns out and all the stuff they're telling you and giving you is just B.S. But like every generation, this generation of young people will have to figure it out on their own and will eventually join the elder circle of those watching the young people make the mistakes they once made.
There is a reason why the age gap between men and women began to widen around the age of 28 or so because as women began to wisen up, so do men and the luster tends to wane on both ends and this also the age when most people start to permanently, or at least legally, couple up and begin families and men, who like to impress with money, material things, and experiences can't really do that with a woman who has been experiencing that life since she was 17 or 18. Bow Wow, who is only a few months younger than me, famously said he want a woman he can give new experiences to and Marques Houston, who is in his early 40s, said he wanted a younger woman who didn't have baggage and kids, all the while saying his 19 year old wife was more mature than women twice her age. Okay. This is nothing new, men can simply blame it on feminism and independent womanhood but if we go back to history, the amount of our grandmothers and great grandmothers who got married and became mothers before they turned 18, to men twice their age, is astounding and this was before women had "rights." So miss me with the reasonings and excuses.
Youth and beauty are the most depreciating commodities but we treat them like they're everlasting and for some reason, every generation believes they are the exception and not the rule. Men have trained young, beautiful, 18-25 year old women to give them their peak beauty and time, many times to be left with very little to show for it once they hit the proverbial wall of 35 and up. Every older woman with a not so tight body and 3-4 kids, was once supple, young, and believed the world was her oyster was well and that she would never be traded in for the newest model. The naivete and resilience of late teens-20 somethings to see the best in life and that they're the exception will always amaze me because 20 somethings, who have never experienced life on their own, believe they have it all figured out. I remember being in my early 20s and getting offended when an older person told me I had more to learn or that I wasn't as wise as I thought I was and they weren't wrong and I should have listened because I would have saved myself a few mistakes and some time.
The way things were done may have changed but the game is still the same. I was in my early-mid 20s when social media really began popping to the point where nobodies became bigger stars than those with legit talent. It made multimillionaires and red carpet staples out of ordinary people. IG really became the new King Magazine, if you know you know, where a new way of life opened for women simply because they were beautiful. These women like Amber Rose, Black Chyna, Brittney Renner, India Love, Bernice Burgous, and even Kim Kardashian would go viral every time they posted a picture and many got opportunities and high profile relationships from it. The IG baddies who were at their peak in the early-mid 2010s are all in their thirties and some in their 40s and they're starting to pivot. They know Kim Kardashian is the only 40 plus woman who can still post a naked picture and it seem normal. Women in this life, from all generations, typically do one of three things, they have a baby, they get married, or they pivot into a successful business owner or even religion. The women who are my age, mid-late 30s are considered old or used up because this is the age your body changes and no longer easily bounces back, and women tend to be wiser and talk back a little more and men want a trophy and not a chihuahua.
The amount of women who believe they can outplay the architect of the game, is amazing to me. The game will always be rigged to let just enough of the select few in for us to believe we all have a chance at being the exception to the rule. The amount of women I see who believe they are playing men, only to get played at the end, is astounding. I remember when Ashley, from RHOP, was still married to Michael and they redid their prenup after he got caught cheating to get half of their shared assets and they're now divorced and she's not getting any child support while living in a house she cannot afford, that is in an LLC, that Michael owns and he can come by anytime he wants and make her company leave but let the internet tell it, Ashley won and she outplayed Michael.
There is a phrase that goes "church is where hoes go to die" because at some point, everyone ages out of the game, no matter what game you play, and sometimes the church is the only place a former hussie can have a little bit of power. There is a reason why Blac Chyna and Brittany Renner are trying to pivot because while they're still beautiful and someone's dream girl, they've aged out of the population they were once prominent in.
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