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who1ssheesh · 19 days

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Paint me burgundy

Pairings: Xanxus x Artist!S/O

Snippets (not really connected) of you both being pseudointellectual snobs. Xanxus likes classics, you like suprematists and other stupid things he doesn't.

Warnings: some suggestive and violent themes, swearing, nor beta-read; self-indulgent, S/O has specific traits. some references are quickly explained right in the text lol just in case, they are marked in a red color. not specified how he met the reader and i dont care much

A/N: first of all, I love to headcanon Xanxus being a fan of classic and very expressive art, and second of all, YES this is a very self-indulgent + YES its Xanxus again + i don't care + L + ratio, at least i had fun. Actually there is also "Paint me azure" with Squalo in my drafts, please please please let me know if i should keep it with an artist s/o or switch to some other artistic skill </3 or maybe that idea is a really bad one to begin with lol

Some would say art for Xanxus is merely a bullet hole in a canvas, but they completely miss the point that he in return to that statement would himself a Lucio Fontana of the mafia world.

Being raised in a high-society - he would say that word with a snort though - he is around art a lot, and you should give credit to Timoteo who tried to educate his son and open all the possibilities no ordinary man can ever afford.

Xanxus has such a delicate soul. Like a silk string, tense and easy to rip. Sometimes daydreaming about dying a poetic death to be remembered for generations. "What an artist dies in me", he mutters expressively while smoking a cigarette on a balcony viewing the old Venice.

Quote on an Emperor Nero, said before he died. Known for tyranny, cruelty and debauchery, he had a big passion for art. And still he proved himself as a good ruler until he devolved to despotism and cruelty after his mentor died. Nero delved deeper into art, forgetting about his duties which led to his demise. Emperor found out he was going to be assassinated and said the quote before slitting his throat. Does Xanxus see himself in Nero? Maybe he doesn't want to but he does. A lot.

After that Xanxus laughs. He will not die.

Xanxus is inevitably intertwined with death. He remembered seeing Caravaggio as a child. A big canvas looking at him threateningly with an unknown feeling of dread, leaving deep red in his memory. Latter works beckon him with the despair hidden in them, and this was the first time in life Xanxus was left...breathless.

Being the famous artist Caravaggio is, his life was filled with tragedies due to his aggressive character. He was exiled from Rome after killing Tomassoni and in the end, though there are a lot of rumors, historians are convinced he was killed by Tomassoni family in revenge. His works after the incident noticeably shift tone.

Xanxus realized he likes burgundy.

Xanxus develops a taste in a bold art. Something aggressive, not afraid to challenge the viewer. He likes gems that shine silently, being able to catch the eye only of the knowing one who understands its value, not a colored glass attracting every fool with its...vulgarity, i'd say. Xanxus loves himself too much to be surrounded surround with anything but the best.

Still not an "accepting modern art" level of bold art but he will go there if he wants or not.

You haven't considered yourself a suffering artist. It's easier to day that you are not the artist than to spend all the money you have on a way too expensive materials to profit...nothing. You could leave that a little cozy dream to achieve in life - to have a small studio of your own.

But for now you can appreciate the art of the greatest. Or so you think, because a bored Xanxus accidentally turned out to be in a museum right next to you in contrary thinks you're an idiot.

"You're looking at a fucking black square", he says almost disgusted for no reason.

"Well, you're looking at me looking at a black square. Who's better?"

Xanxus barks a laugh.

"What's the point though?"

"You want a boring one or a funny one?"

"I'm too sober for a boring one."

"Imagine it's like...a background of a Caravaggio painting. You're standing your back to the main painting and looking at the blackness. You know what I mean?"

Xanxus smirks.

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"I need a shot before I hear your other bullshit."

A manifesto. Suprematism being the new step for the philosophy of things - exploring not the outer shape but the true meaning of it. A simple square being the beginning of all shapes. "A quadrangle", you call it. "It's a square, you idiot", Xanxus tells you. The first name being the quadrangle because there were no right angles to show a dynamic form in a static quadrangle, you explain. Xanxus doesn't answer not knowing if it's fucking stupid or equally genius. Black square for economy, red for revolution and white for a pure action, which one would be you?

"Red", Xanxus says confidently.

"Why not all of them? If you mix them all...let's roughly say it's something pretentious like burgundy".

He likes that. Why choose when Xanxus can have all. And he likes burgundy. A lot. Maybe he even could like suprematism with your bullshit. He doesn't like economy at all though, but the sound of having all at the same time is good.

Xanxus has never gave a shit about architecture. His architecture is having a lavish house and a comfortable expensive bed to fall asleep after too much drink. Or work. Or both. Not long ago having you in the bed naked was added to that wish list.

But "never have a shit" doesn't equal to "never knew".

"I would make a fucking impluvium in m'house", he lazily gesticulates a square while comically standing in the center of your small apartment which, you feel, has Xanxus as a pretty much a resident. You're not sure how to hide an absurd ton of alcohol from your visiting family and friends or what to do with his sour strong cologne trail. But should you bother at that point?

"Why?", you snort.

"Why the fuck not?", he moves closer with hand in his pockets and jokingly threatens you. "To be filled with the blood of virgins or sum, duh".

Your laugh fills the room, and Xanxus feels at peace. Sort of, he still doesn't have an impluvium filled with the blood of a hundred virgins.

Xanxus is fully aware you are an artist of a huge potential. He pretends he didn't see your albums here and there filled with his sketchy portraits, and deep down he can't understand how you...like him so much? How you notice small useless things to the point of learning exact pattern of his scars and somehow also add some shitty sappy poetic-my-ass comparisons.

So judging that he was expecting something pompous of you for his birthday, especially after his "Just do me all cool in a suit, naked whores here and there, dead Sawada on the wall instead of a tiger skin and Squalo on his knees.", and still he is convinced that is going to be your life masterpiece, a magnum opus.

But here he is, Lussuria showing him an unpacked painting of... a burgundy square. Some of the guests starts whispering that it's some mockery.

"Boss, it's a square of all things?"

"It's a quadrangle, you idiot".

Just in a couple of days there is a bullet hole in the painting, but you would be not a xanxus-said-idiot but a real one to expect something different from your pretty extravagant man.

No matter how hard some people try to hide it - Fran was too late with his illusions, Lussuria was scared for your "soft" heart and it feels like even Squalo has some pity towards you - you're still here, looking at the ruined canvas with...not sadness.

"I like that", your eyes shine while looking at whatever you can call it now. "Ever thought about Lucio Fontana? He was the first one to use canvas as a piece of work itself, not as a base for the art. Aggressive and not afraid to challenge the old ways, isn't that Xanxus as a whole?"

"He used a sword to cut the canvas, duh!" Squalo screamed while taking his leave clearly being offended with that comparison.

Since that day if someone says art for Xanxus is merely a bullet hole in a canvas, but they completely miss the point that he in return to that statement would himself a Lucio Fontana of the mafia world.

He doesn't give a shit who he is and doesn't understand whatever the hell he did. but at least rich idiots believe when he says it's some extremely expensive unique art piece.

He has his own manifesto in a way.

#khr headcanons #varia x reader #xanxus x reader #xanxus headcanons #khr x reader #xanxus imagines

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haethyre · 4 months

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X-Men 97 Thoughts

My personal opinions

Okay. So I grew up with X-men The Animated Series. It was one of my fave shows. It always came on late at night on Toon Disney (at times i shouldnt have been awake LMAO) so it has a special place in my heart. I was very surprised that of all things they decided to "continue" it. So, when I heard about it, I did a full rewatch (even that ungodly last season where quality took a nosedive OOF) Anywhoo! Started and finished 97. Those who know me best know at heart I am a big OG fan of my fandoms and am trepidacious of reboots/even continuation reboots, bc lets be honest most of them are all about stomping on the source material, SO I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed Xmen 97.

You could really see how much they tried to capture the feel of the old show and the characters. The voice replacements were surprisingly well done. (i mean, Wolverine is a little off, but i'll give the guy a break its been like...28 yrs XD ) The animation looks amazing. Even if i'm taking some points off for the hair hfgjhdf haha

Now the storyline.... The elephant in the room. We all know the one. I have been a Romy fan since I was a kid and yes, when I was a young girl in Borders, I did come across the comic that showed the RoguexMagneto storyline. I hated it then and I hate it now. Its just...weird. (Again, my opinions. If you like it, power to you. Enjoy, but its not for me and this post isn't for you) but its even weirder in the show, and ill tell you why. As a Marvel comic reader, I'm well acquainted with the fact that everyone gets with everyone. That is just a trope of Marvel comics. All ships of imaginable and unimaginable proportions happen. BUT I think when doing this, they really should have thought it through a bit more in context of the show's universe alone . Bc I'll be real, if you're coming in from TAS, this kinda hits you out of nowhere. She had no form of connection with Magneto in the past show. Like....they had a makeshift funeral for him and she didn't even care. She was just worried about Gambit being stuck in space. So, their "secret" just seems so random and out of place. I do like that it was used for her to understand fully her feelings for Gambit, but man was it frustrating to see him just killed off when he was one of the best characters.(even if it was really well done and the animation, again, was amazing)

There's talk of him coming back as "Death" which is a storyline I'm not familiar with but I also heard talk of the original showrunner idealizing a timeline where Rogue and Magneto have kids....so... IDK It all just left me a bit frustrated and disheartened bc Romy was like one of my earliest ships before i knew ships were a thing. To see what happened to it made me sad, even if it could be part of a long game to get them to their HEA. (and thats always an if bc we don't know, even if the original guy isn't in charge anymore)

Other things that bugged me a little but not too much. Gonna bring up Morph. I love Morph. They were always a fave and they went through so much to finally be back on the team again. I really don't understand why they changed their character design tho? I read it was to make Morph look more like the character changeling from the comics but this is again something that doesnt make sense coming out of TAS bc Morph always had that other appearance throughout the entire show. I mean...it could have at least been explained... Also, as far as the feelings for Wolverine, i kinda found it funny XD bc in TAS, it always seemed like it was the other way around jkhfgjkdfh Wolverine was so attached to Morph and wouldn't let 'em go. That being said, I kinda wish they didn't go this route if its only meant to be unrequited and sad. AGAIN. I know. Marvel is all about unrequited drama jfhdkjfdh but hasn't Morph been through enough??? That being said, I love the ship even though I know its doomed. Wolverine is the worst person to be down bad for tho. Mans falls in love at the drop of a hat fhghdfjhsd

Other than these couple things, I really loved the show. Some people said "why are they shoving so much story into such a short amount of time" XD The storyteller in me would like to agree but i will be honest, there is nothing more like Xmen TAS than smooshed storylines jkdfhfkjds with random one-off eps in between. XD So, I was fine with it.

I liked the conclusion with Scott and Jean, as messy as it was. The family fun time was a pleasure to watch.

Xavier and Magneto. They really highlighted their messy, but still devoted relationship from the original series, so that was nice to see. I was glad to see him back in the red suit LMAO bc the one he was wearing all season was weird for me.

I loved Jubilee's journey, and it was cool that they brought Alyson Court back for that one episode.

I was very pleased overall that they didn't tone things down and since censors are different these days, they could show more stuff they couldn't in the 90s. So, I am looking forward to more seasons (and pleeeeease for the love of god give Romy back to me i am begging)

#x men 97 #rogue x gambit #romy #x men the animated series #my thoughts #plz dont jump on this post to yell at me

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spottyissleepwalking · 1 year

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Hello, sorry to bother you but can I ask a question about the warrior cats disability post you reblogged earlier? And I mean this in good faith, honestly, I want to understand.

I haven't read warrior cats, but just from what was described in the post, it sounds... realistic? Since not everyone bounces back from becoming disabled. For example, a coworker and I (in a labor intensive field) have the same injury to our knee. He, I guess you could say has responded "well" to his injury. He has a higher drive to push past pain, not let it limit what he can do, and is able to work as hard, or harder, than non-disabled coworkers, but he is still absolutely disabled. In his case, he often overworks himself and thus ends up having to take off several days to recover and is on a lot of pain medication, both Rx and self medicated. In the scenario presented in the post, he would def be able to stay in the warrior class. But I didn't respond well to my injury, and don't react well to pain. I fell into a deep deep depression that took almost 8 years to crawl out of. Doing the exact same tasks as he does, I work slower and more carefully, avoiding pain at all costs rather than pushing past/despite pain. I'm slower, not as effective. But I don't need to take time off or frequent breaks to recover, and though it takes a little longer, I do just as much work as he does at the end of the week when accounting for the time he takes to recover. I like to imagine that I've reacted to my injury well, but can't help feeling inadequate and worthless when compared to coworker. Especially on days that we work side by side and he's running quite literal circles around me. And remember, we have the exact same injury with very similar causes and only a few months time difference.

From what I understand of the culture of Warrior cats (which is admittedly very very little) I imagine I'd end up in a healer class as well, even if I wished I could be warrior class. I would give almost anything to work as fast, as effectively, as hard as coworker does. But I can't.

So I guess what I'm asking is, what am I missing from the narrative, as someone who hasn't read warrior cats, that makes a character, who has not returned to their former glory after an injury, a poor representation of disability? As the post stands on its own right now, it just feels like it's kicking disabled people when they're down for not acting like they're still fully abled. Like shaming a paralyzed person for not joining a sport.

I have to assume that it's just poorly worded for anyone outside the fandom, but it really does come of as... well... ableist. Which is what drove me to ask, since making assumptions of ableism is generally kinda shitty, and I am curious about the source material.

I hope I didn't come off aggressive or let my emotions on the subject get carried away here, genuinely sorry if it does come off rude. I promise am asking in good faith because I want to understand from a creative standpoint if the narrative actually handled it poorly, and how-so, to help myself and others potentially avoid making the same artistic mistakes.

Thank you for taking the time to read this wall of text, and again, so sorry for bothering you!

No no!! Not aggressive or rude or anything of the sort :D

I’ll be honest, I didn’t read the full text, but I got the gist of it so I’ll try to answer aptly ^^

The problem with Warriors isn’t that there isn’t disability representation - there is, it’s just. Awful. Why? Because almost every single disabled character, sans THREE, in a series that has thousands of named characters, is FORCED into a role they don’t want - or KILLED. Solely for being disabled, solely for being “different”.

It’s not that they necessarily chose that life for themselves, it’s that it was forced upon them, which is where so many fans (reasonably) draw issue with. Disabled characters are offered the bare minimum in Warriors canon. Either they’re essentially forced to become a doctor, with the trope of “the broken-bodied healing the able-bodied” (which personally unsettled me greatly), or they’re shipped off to the elder’s den, which is a place where cats retire due to old age and are cared for by their Clanmates, usually without ever having the chance to prove themselves, and display both their abilities and weaknesses. They’re just automatically shoved into this corner.

There was a Deaf character, once, in the decades-long span of this book series, that was told he would never become a warrior solely because of his deafness - and then was immediately killed off in a manner that was almost never used again as a device to kill a character.

There was a character who was hit by a car and, as a result, ended up losing the function of one of her back legs. Prior to this, she was training as any other young member of her society would. Immediately after? She became a doctor.

There was a character who became blind due to an outside force, and, despite being the equivalent of maybe a thirty-year-old, immediately retired to the elder’s den.

There was a born blind character who fought to train as a warrior, under a half-blind warrior. He was doing well in his training - until the in-universe religion came down to him and forced him to give up his dreams in order to become a doctor. Granted, his case was a little more complicated and intermingled with plot, but it still stands.

There was a character with anxiety who was a poor hunter, and was pressured to become a doctor because of his lack of skills.

There was a character who was paralyzed, and was dismissed as dead, or “better off dead”, by almost everyone around her - INCLUDING HER OWN FAMILY - except the blind character, who found kinship with her and fought tooth-and-nail to keep her alive and healthy.

And the thing is? These characters are CATS! Cats, who have been documented living alone in the wild with these sort of disabilities and thriving!! Which makes it all the more frustrating to see a narrative built around the appeal of cats, have them have this whole support system and community, and that community actively turn their backs on them.

It’s not about them choosing. It’s about them being forced. Not having any opportunity to grow, or learn, or allow others around them to do the same in regards to them. There’s no acceptance here. In universe, it seems like they’re just shoved into the shadows so the able bodied characters don’t have to look at them or think too hard about them, unless they’re healing their wounds.

The characters themselves are not the poor representation. It’s how the authors have handled them - by shoving them aside, to the shadows, to the dogs. It’s frustrating and disheartening.

#warrior cats #warriors #ask

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conannxl · 2 months

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Okay, Drowsy Chaperone fans unite to help me.

If I get the part of man in chair, what should I do. There's a bunch of you little critters out here and I figure if there's a general consensus I will follow it, and of course whatever my director says. Here's my absolute YAP session of a post:

I'm just going to put it out there and say that whenever I do a show even though I'm extremely amateur, I study it. A lot. I've been going through Reddit, YouTube, news articles and interviews etc. trying to find a good answer, although I guess good is objective. I find man in chair to be a very confusing character at times.

Many theorize that the whole thing could be him with his aforementioned zoloft addiction finally overdosing and living through his final moments hallucinating the show, or perhaps at the very end it's when he overdoses which allows him to finally interact with the characters. I've heard people say that he kills himself at the end, which I agree is feasible, but it takes away from the point of the show, along with the zoloft theories. I'm not saying that his love for the show is only boiled down to just being high, but its a show that's near and dear to him, and having it be "hahaha I kill myself my favorite show" seems really just unnecessarily edgy even though it might come off as more deep.

I really, really, deeply enjoy Bob Martin's portrayal of the character and I admire him so much. I feel like the Broadway's ending was very ambiguous, but I'd like to believe that if anything, it's him finally becoming content with the ending of the show (and his opinion of the show) and the direction his life went, or just him finally dying, not from some sort of drug induced episode. With other posts that have the same question as this one, many commenters mention how you really need to go with the director's vision which makes a lot of sense.

But like I said, I really want a more definite answer. Is it leaning more towards him finally giving in and taking his own life at the end, or finally being happy with himself? Moreover, do people really believe that its just him dying?

I really like people saying that he's agoraphobic, Jewish, or a closeted gay man which really gives me a decent idea of where to place his character. I can get the first half down. (Where he's just talking about the show or defending it, whatever, basically before the drinking) But after he gets tipsy, towards live or leave, I'm a bit lost again. Is it more anger and sadness, or just recounting the story in a funny way because he's under the influence?

There are so many dreadfully sad monologues in this show that I think get over taken by the humor in it. You always want to be true to the material and your director's vision but just burning it all down to just for laughs takes away the meaning- I cant figure out his intentions- I despise when people laugh during those monologues because like I said its so sad but its a comedy so why do those jokes have to be in there? And when people finally do portray him in a way that takes away from that humor during those deep moments, the actor gets absolutely torn into. Please help! If I even get the part, I want to be able to feel like I did it right, and not have some snappy guy be like, well this left a bad taste in my mouth because blah blah blah. No offense to anybody who might've left a comment like that but if you don't agree with somebody's choices for a character you can say it in a way that isn't being a dick jesus christ.

Thanks if you can help.

(I apologize if this is hard to read/follow, I'm not a good writer)

(Forgot to mention, I saw this very interesting video called "The Intoxicating Nostalgia of The Drowsy Chaperone" on YouTube. please go watch it if you're interested!!!! It talks about how the show itself was racist at times and not defendable and the whole show is really the man in chair finding reasons to still endorse the show with its nature.)

#the drowsy chaperone #theater

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gondolier-in-battersea · 1 year

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I was thinking about a little exchange of dialogue from the TV adaptation of Station Eleven and why it encapsulates why I vastly prefer it to the novel:

So in the book, it’s revealed through fictional interviews with a newspaperman that the main character, Kirsten, gets a little knife tattooed on her arm everytime she kills someone, and the book treats it so seriously. “You know better than to ask about that,” she says to the interviewer, and it’s treated like this dark abiding secret when it’s just par for the course in a post-apocalyptic novel! I don’t necessarily object to the inclusion of the detail, but be a little less lame about it, a little more nonchalant. Something like “She threw the knife at his face and reminded herself to call the tattoo parlor later.”

In the TV series, Mackenzie Davis (who is just insanely tall; she’s 5’10’’ [my height] but has tall vibes) is sitting on a raft with a stranger in the sunshine, and she gets up to leave, and the creepy stranger asks her “what’s that tattoo on your arm?” And she pauses and says “It’s for all the people I’ve killed,” and smiles. Like it’s a joke! And then she turns away, but the man says “To the monsters—we’re the monsters. Right?” And she looks at him again, and she says “Where did you hear that?”

I admire that moment because it shows how directly Station Eleven is willing to question its own source material. It signals very clearly that the tattoo means something more than memento mori. (The cheerful sunlight on the waves plays very well against Davis’s clearly unsettled body language; the moment has menace.) In the context of the story, the tattoo is a symbol of a spaceship, from a graphic novel that both of them have read; the Prophet, by speaking a line from the novel, is recognizing another fan. The moment works both textually (the series’s main thematic concern is the idea of adaptation, and both Kirsten and the Prophet will restage events from that graphic novel as the series progresses) and metatextually (as an adaptation of an existing text, Station Eleven tells you that it is going to alter things from the source.)

Anyway, I love that series and that little exchange of dialogue. Davis is very good in it, but Danielle Deadwyler is fucking incredible, and her performance is the starkest and most rewarding departure from the book. I think it’s my favorite thing I’ve ever watched but that’s maybe because I’m a baby who doesn’t really watch movies or TV.

(Also that A Tribe Called Quest scene got me into hip-hop, which is so embarrassing but nevertheless it’s true.)

#station eleven #mackenzie davis #also unfortunately I must repeat...mackenzie davis #she's real good

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slavghoul · 3 years

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Hi slavghoul! First of all, I'm a big fan of yours, always a pleasure to read you. You talked earlier this day about some reviewer talking about "Darkness at the heart of my love", which review or interview is that? I can't find it. Thanks <3

Thank you kindly! :))) Yes I haven't posted it yet. It is also from Sweden Rock. A very good review too - 9/10. The nitty gritty, that is, the song descriptions, are towards the middle of the text.

---

Tobias Forge is undeniably a skilled communicator. Ghost is all about grand gestures, gigantic megalomania and a confidence that only a madman can match. It's easy to lose your breath even before the music takes over. Or as Papa Emeritus IV sings in the brilliant Watcher In The Sky - "Communication is key". Yes, no question about it. The key to skilful storytelling is to build the myth of yourself so that everyone gets the joke. With that attitude, you can get as far as you want.

In the book "The Rule Of Empires: Those Who Built Them, Those Who Endured Them, And Why They Always Fall", author Timothy Parsons, professor of history at St Louis University, takes the approach of exploring how ordinary people experienced imperial rule. Narratively, of course, there is an endless stream of inspiration to be drawn from the subject. I've read bits and pieces of the book and opinions differ among those who have experienced and endured a life ruled from the top by the high and mighty. The satisfaction of seeing them plunged into the abyss is undeniably there.

Creating an album in that context doesn't just mean looking back in history. Our present is tainted by stubborn powers that squirm with childishness at the slightest insult. It's an ongoing contest about who is perceived as the biggest, best and most beautiful. The book has been an inspiration for Tobias Forge's latest reincarnation of his satanic pope and his minions - Nameless Ghouls.

In Sweden Rock Magazine, of course, Papa Emeritus IV is the behemoth - bigger than all the world's leaders. Just check out the cover of this magazine. It's panache from head to toe. Or why not analyse the cover of the new album "Impera"? The papal statue has proportions on a par with the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower. Looking to the left, the surrounding buildings seem minimalist by comparison. Delusions of grandeur - check.

So, after the ravages of Black Death on 2018's "Prequelle", it's time to put back the papal robes and run through the historical ruins of the empires. And it is an absolutely fantastic journey that, after the tired consequences of the pandemic, can now finally be experienced. There's virtually not a trace here of the trite gestures found in the song disappointments "Kiss The Go-Goat" and "Mary On A Cross", released on the single "Seven Inches Of Satanic Panic" in 2019. It feels amazingly good that they were just parentheses. The problem with them was that they lacked context. They were loosely woven compositions without a whole to lean on. Ghost is an album band and needs a setting. And with one, the result is as transformative as it is unusual. Music, production, cover and performance - absolute world class.

First comes “Kaisarion” and right away we are transposed back to the 80s. "Spillways" continues with a tinkling piano, soaring guitars and of course a melody to hang tons of weight on. It's easy to get sucked into the volatile arrangements. The first single "Call Me Little Sunshine" quickly materialized into a pitch-black mid-tempo song to be loved straight through. The little gritty guitar interludes are magical in their simplicity.

In the context of empires crumbling like houses of cards, "Hunter's Moon" can be seen as the black sheep of the album. But put the song, part of the soundtrack to the 2021 film "Halloween Kills," in the sick context of Michael Myers, and it perfectly fits the cock-of-the-walk attitude as well. Again, a song that stands with at least half its body in the 80s.

It's about here that things get really hot in Tobias Forge's empire factory. The aforementioned "Watcher In The Sky" is a hit of gigantic proportions. Chugging guitars and a chorus well worthy of someone with world domination as a goal. Right on the mark. "Twenties" is an odd bird that breaks off the beat and tone quite considerably - a bit like "Cirice" does on "Meliora" (2015). Variety is good for you.

"Darkness At The Heart Of My Love" is the album’s big ballad that will hug you until you're a puddle of tears on the floor, then the Van Halen pastiche "Griftwood” recharges your batteries. Join us for another trip back to the decade most of us adore anyway.

If you're still down on the floor, it's time to get up and fuel up for the grand finale. In 'Respite On The Spitalfields', Forge is firing on all cylinders. The song is to Ghost what "Still Of The Night" is to Whitesnake. Sultry and utterly wonderful. As the guitars ride out in the song's final seconds, several planets align just right. Like I said, world class and an impressive nine. Second in a row, too.

/Original Swedish text by Jonathan Strandlund

#impera #the band ghost

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for-fucks-sake-h · 4 years

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La Paloma

A/N: A story in which Harry’s cocky talk is about the only thing he can lay on thick. Otherwise known as the realistic sex blurb! In the midst of a lot of smut on this website (myself included) I wanted to do something a little different than “sex god Harry Styles” and show a side of sex that is actually real and common and I think... funny! Thank you to my girls @oh-honey-styles @andwhenshesays @real-work-of-art @haute-romance-quotidienne for always encouraging the madness. Happy reading! x

Word Count: 3.8k || Rated: M (mature), for implied smut, shit talking and a floppy disappointment!

“Can’t wait to get you home,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your neck despite yourself.

You were surrounded by people, who if they overheard anything he had whispered in your ear, you would have been mortified. Warmth spread to your cheeks as you lifted your shoulder to urge his face away from yours, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as his toned, pink, silk covered front pressed closer to your side.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” His palm made its ridiculously slow course of direction from your opposite shoulder, all the way down your spine, until he could grip your hip tightly to keep you close. You could smell the tequila oozing from his pores, one (or three) too many La Paloma’s if had any sense of it. “Have I told you that tonight?”

“You did tell me,” you confirmed quietly, turning your head to look at him. “A few times, actually.”

“Tell ya again,” he urged quickly, his hand squeezing your hip once more. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.” His voice was slow, the alcohol coating his throat into a subtle rasp. “Never wanted anyone more than you.”

He was persistent, if anything. And horny. He made that abundantly clear as his intricately patterned hips ticked forward, his groin pressed tightly against the top of your thigh. He crowded every inch of your space, a few random twists of his hair tickling your temple, the silk of his shirt tickling your skin entirely too softly, the subtle hardness of his undeniably impressive length ready and waiting for you. If you had let him, he would have snuck you into a closet, an earshot away from your distant relatives that attended your cousin's wedding alongside you.

Your blood boiled with it though; that need, the utter desire you felt deep in your belly. You almost gave in, almost let him lead you away, almost risked the embarrassment of being the subject of your family's gossip when someone undoubtedly caught you. You didn’t, clearly, what with the way the last hour had been a torturous form of foreplay.

“H,” you warned, glancing behind him with a timid smile as one of your uncles approached the other end of the bar.

You were standing just off to the side, in a tiny little nook that had no business being large enough to fit both your bodies. You weren’t even sure how you got there, your mind fuzzy from both your drinks and your boyfriend. But there you were, listening to the deep timbre of his voice recite, in detail, what he planned to do once he got you alone.

“What? I can’t love on you?” he faked innocence.

You laughed softly. “You can if you keep it PG.”

“Guess that depends,” he pondered with a slow drawl, “does making you come on my face fall under the PG category?”

A dramaticized roll of your eyes had him playfully giggling against your cheek. “Definitely not,” you sighed with a smile.

“No can do then.”

“Harry--”

“Y’drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Feelings mutual,” you chuckled dryly.

“The worst part... is that I know exactly what’s waiting for me.” His voice lowered, his lips just barely skimming over the corner of your jaw, warm breath caressing your skin once more. “I know you’re wet, and it’s fucking killing me.”

You were wet, uncomfortably so, and this man did nothing to quell it. If anything, he went out of his way to intensify it. You didn’t miss the way his fingers toyed with his bottom lip periodically throughout the evening, or the way he walked dick first back to you from retrieving drinks in perfectly tailored pants, or that his hands always found purchase on you somewhere; your thigh during the ceremony, your shoulder throughout speeches, the small of your back as he slow danced with you. He kept you close at all times, the warmth of his palm searing into your skin at any given moment.

You downed the mouthful left in your glass as a distraction, his hooded eyes burning a hole in your face as he watched, his thumb toying with the material of your dress.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, love,” he rasped. “Sinking into you.” He somehow felt closer. “Feeling you clench down on me the way you do.” His hand squeezed your hip. “Hearing you moan my name.” He swallowed harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing out of the corner of your eye. “Watching you come…” he exhaled. “It’s so fucking good.”

There was a moan sitting at the bottom of your throat, begging to escape with every passing word.

“You always feel so good. I just want you on me, wanna be so deep I can’t breathe. It’s like… heaven.”

“Take me home,” you murmured breathlessly.

***

“I want you so bad.” The whine slipped up your throat, passing Harry’s lips where they were pressed to the delicate skin of your neck.

When you gave him the green light to leave the reception, you’d never seen him move faster - giving his well wishes and goodbye kisses to everyone that mattered at warped speed. His affection didn’t let up in the car, a warm palm dipping entirely too far between your legs in the back of that town car for you to focus on anything but him.

You both had stumbled through the house as best you could, tugging each other's clothes off on the way, until you were in your bedroom, hands caressing the silk of his broad shoulders as he pulled you closer. His skin was warm against yours, tingles coursing through your veins at his touch. You could hear his panting breath just as much as you could feel it fanning out over your skin between the burning kisses his mouth left behind.

“That was the longest wedding I’ve ever been to,” he murmured barely audibly as he followed your careless guide towards the bed. “Felt like I was going to explode.”

Your chuckle was soft as the backs of your legs met the edge of the bed, keeping a tight hold on him as you both fell onto the soft pillow top. He was heavily pressing you into the mattress, quickly slotting himself between your thighs. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, your mouth finding his with a deep kiss, the tiny bit of stubble on his face a stark contrast to the soft skin of his neck.

He pressed his hips into yours roughly, practically grinding against your core. The hardness you felt against your hip at the wedding had subsided, the car ride home seemingly giving him time to calm down. But now you wanted him.

“I’m so wet,” you whispered, eager to feel him after so much build up throughout the night.

He pulled back just so, a dimple barely forming into his cheek. “Can feel that,” he slurred, the words forming together in one drawn out breath.

You leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his puffy mouth, your lips finding their way down his jaw and neck. His hand smoothed down your thigh, squeezing roughly as he pulsed his hips against yours once more. His lips barely made contact with your skin, light kisses being pressed to your chest and neck. He was right there, not even half hard against the apex of your thigh.

Harry enjoyed himself at the wedding - had his fair share of drinks. You both did, a delightful buzz coursing through your veins as well. You and your boyfriend were very similar that way, equally handsy and eager to be alone once you hit a certain point. It’s more fun being tipsy and horny when you’re in love with each other.

“You okay?” you asked softly at his ear, feeling his shaky breath against the side of your neck.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pressing a sloppy kiss to your clammy skin. “Just give me a minute…” his words trailed off as he pushed himself up on one hand while the other slipped around his cock, giving himself a few slow strokes. And it was a sight to see; watching him play with himself right between your thighs, his stomach clenching both from his position and his hand.

You couldn’t help yourself from reaching down to brush your knuckles over his hand as a signal to let you wrap your fingers around his cock instead. He happily obliged, choosing to kiss along your cheek and neck once more. You found a slow rhythm with a subtle twist of your wrist just as your mouth sucked a soft kiss from the side of his neck, just below his ear. But something that would normally have him hard in a few strokes, wasn’t doing the trick - three strokes coming and going, going, going, his cock steadily limp in your hand.

He was breathing heavily against your collar bone as you gave him a few more pumps. His Paloma’s definitely seemed to be inhibiting him now, his tip brushing against your center over and over without so much as a glimmering twitch.

A frustrated huff came from his pink lips. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Baby,” you eased as you pulled your hand away. “It’s probably the alcohol.”

He wordlessly pushed himself up onto his wobbly knees, gripping himself once more as he looked down, a deep furrow dented between his brows. Two more useless strokes and brushing his tip against your core once more had him accepting defeat, falling onto the bed beside you with a disappointed grunt. “Can still make you feel good,” he mumbled as he scooted the tiniest bit closer to your side.

He smoothed his hand down your stomach and between your legs, only to brush his fingers just to the left of your clit. You shifted your hips slightly to get him on the right track, trying to help him find his way to where you needed him. And he did, momentarily, until he was too distracted as he tried to kiss your neck, moving off your clit once more.

You sighed heavily as you turned your head to look at him, which only gave him false encouragement.

“S’good, yeah?” he asked softly, his lashes blinking heavily back at you.

You hummed through an extremely soft chuckle as you slowly turned your body towards his, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his face as his hand fell from between your thighs. “Sort of lost it, babe.”

“What? Nooo,” he whined. “Wanna make you feel good.” The pout on his lips was so evident that it almost made you smile, strong arms wrapping around you to pull you close. His forehead knocked against yours, a soft chuckle coming from his lips as he pushed his weight into you more. “Wanna make you come,” he murmured as he clumsily crawled over you, pressing wet kisses onto the skin of your chest. His tongue smoothed over your nipple, a zap of pleasure crawling down your spine at the sensation of his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin.

You weaved your hands into his hair as his lips smoothed down the center of your sternum, his face pressing softly into your stomach. You shifted beneath him as his arms wrapped around your waist, his mouth lazily pressing kisses to your stomach as his weight pressed you into the mattress further.

“H,” you murmured with a scratch to his head.

“Hm?”

You lifted your head to look down at him as he nuzzled into your skin. “Are you falling asleep?”

“Wha? No…”

“Harry,” you sighed. “Come here.” You pulled on his arms in an attempt to bring him further up the mattress. He groggily responded, pushing himself up your body until he was laying beside you, arms wrapping around you and legs tangling with yours.

“M’sorry, love. Can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Sh, it’s okay.”

He squeezed you tighter as he tucked his face into your neck, your chin resting on the top of his head. “Promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

Sleep overcame him immediately, a content sigh falling from his lips before soft snores were escaping his open mouth. It was as endearing as it was annoying. After all that build up, all his shit talking, it was almost comical now. Or at the very least, you had to laugh, because otherwise you would cry of sexual frustration.

So you laid there, willing your mind to settle enough to fall asleep - all while Harry blissfully snored, his body radiating even more heat against your already too warm skin.

***

Was there anything worse than being woken up by a charley horse in your calf? In the grand scheme of the world? Yes. But in that exact moment? When shooting pain stabbed through your leg like a worn down razor blade? No, there was nothing worse. A night of drinking everything but water would do that do you though.

You whined as you shot up from your pillow, whimpering as you attempted to massage the sore muscle, curling and uncurling your toes, breathing heavily as the cramp twisted tighter.

“God damn it,” you cursed quietly as you rubbed your fingers into the tense muscle, releasing a slow breath when the pain finally started to subside.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, your boyfriend snored peacefully beside you, completely unaware of your turmoil as he cuddled a spare pillow close to his chest. Was it his fault that you had a charley horse? Obviously not… but somehow you felt like it should be. Especially when you looked over at him drooling on his pillow, back muscles fully on display, hair a mess, puffy mouth hanging open - beautifully infuriating, all at once.

So before you took your pillow and smothered him with it, you got out of bed, slowly easing onto the traitor leg before nakedly trudging to the bathroom for a shower. He was in the exact same position when you returned with wet hair and fresh skin, and when you returned an hour and a half later with a neatly folded basket of laundry, he was still in the same position. You were half tempted to hover your face in front of his mouth, make sure he was still breathing, just when a hiccuped snore escaped him as he wrapped himself around the pillow more.

You padded over to his side of the bed quietly, taking in the long lashes spread across the tops of his cheeks and the hair that was matted between his temple and the pillow, before carefully reaching out to stroke the backs of your fingers across his clammy cheek. His skin was soft despite the impossible heat, pungently sweating out the last remnants of alcohol coursing through his system.

There was a part of you that wanted to wake him up, mostly because you missed him (you were supposed to spend the day together) and partly because you couldn’t possibly forget what went on the night before. You would be lying if you said it didn’t linger in the back of your mind all morning, the reminder making itself present as soon as the water touched your skin in the shower, a surprising similarity to his touch - burning hot and completely encompassing.

But you loved him, so with a huff and a roll of your eyes, you left him there to snooze away.

It was nearly dinner time before you heard the ensuite shower turn on from where you were perched in an oversized dark leather chair in the living room. You stayed put, wrapped in a blanket with your Kindle and a cup of tea when he finally appeared in a pair of athletic shorts and a Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the word DAMN. written across the chest, hair still damp and sticking up in every direction.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted, receiving a subtle look over his shoulder.

“What’s so good about it?”

Your eyebrows rose as you peered at the back of his head while he filled his water jug from the fridge.

“Wow,” you chuckled softly, entertained by his pouty face. “I mean, you’ve been relaxing in bed all day while I folded all your underwear. Sounds pretty good to me,” you shrugged.

“Feel like shit,” he shook his head as he made his way towards you, plopping down on the sofa with a loud sigh.

“Well, yeah, nine Paloma’s will do that to you.”

“Didn’t have nine,” he grumbled before he chugged nearly his entire jug of water.

“I was being gracious, babe. Think you had more than nine,” you laughed.

He shot you a dirty look before his lips twitched with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine?” he scoffed, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Would have thought more than fine, love.”

“Why’s that?” you laughed.

“Y’know,” he smirked, a smug look crossing his face as he playfully raised his eyebrows a few times.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, watching as your boyfriend gave you a tenacious look of pride.

“Uh,” you chuckled. “I don’t know.”

“Last night?” He looked at you expectantly. “When we got home? Was good, yeah?”

You snorted a laugh, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t joking judging by the cross look on his face, brows furrowed deeply.

“When you passed out on me?”

His confused blink had you laughing again, watching as he seemingly tried to piece together the pieces of your non-existent rendezvous.

“Didn't pass out on you,” he argued.

“Ya did, baby.”

His bottom lip pouted out just barely as he contemplated your words, eyelashes blinking softly. “Well shit,” he huffed dramatically. “Musta dreamt it.”

You barked one loud, singular laugh. “Glad dream me got some at least.”

His laugh was infectious and heart felt, his eyes crinkling endearingly.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you roll your eyes, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“I would make it up to you now but I’m afraid I’ll throw up in your mouth.”

“That’s so hot,” you deadpanned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you.”

He smiled timidly, a faint blush crawling across his cheeks ever so slightly. Before he could say anything else, you started to stand up from your blanket cocoon. “Well, not-laid me is going to make some dinner while you… I don’t know, do whatever you’re gonna do with this,” you waved your hand in front of him, motioning to his hungover state.

He didn’t follow you, even though you half expected him to, and when you returned only 25 minutes later, he was fast asleep on the couch with your abandoned blanket draped over him.

You released a sigh, accepting that the day was gone by that point, and went back to the kitchen to eat alone. You cleaned up once you were finished and quietly put the leftovers in the fridge while Harry slept on the sofa before you poured yourself a glass of wine and headed upstairs.

It wasn't until you were settled in the tub for a bit, topping off another dose of hot water as the bubbles slowly disintegrated around you that the door to the ensuite slowly started to open. He looked like a puppy that had gotten into a trash can, tail between his legs and a guilty look on his face.

“Good nap?” you asked as you sunk into the hot water again before tilting your head back to finish off your wine.

He didn’t say anything from where he stood leaning against the door, watching you with his temple propped on the woods edge. You glanced over when a few silent beats passed, eyes meeting his gradually. You didn’t say anything, didn’t offer anything else up, but that seemed to jumpstart him enough to push himself off the door and actually enter the bathroom, heading straight for the vanity to wordlessly brush his teeth.

You focused on the hot water as it eased your sore muscles rather than the sound of Harry gargling a couple feet away. And once he was finished, he appeared beside you, crouched down next to the freestanding tub, elbows propped on the ledge for balance while his disheveled hair and the look on his face tugged on your heart strings.

“Sorry I’ve been useless today,” he spoke softly, a subtle frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s okay,” you eased. “You’ll have other days off.”

“I know, but still.” Full days off for him were few and far between as of late. “Promised you the day. And promised you other things too apparently... haven’t held up my end at all.”

“H,” you sighed. “It’s fine, really.”

You knew your boyfriend, you knew that he was hard on himself sometimes. Pair that with his ego being a bit bruised and you had the perfect recipe for a pity party, which judging by his face, he already arrived at the party long ago.

“You can make it up to me another day,” you added softly, lifting your hand from the water to smooth down the outside of his misshaped eyebrow.

He caught your hand before it dropped back into the water and pressed his mouth to the inside of your wrist. “I love you.” His words were spoken against your skin, his eyes closed as he pressed another kiss to the same spot.

“I love you too.”

He released your wrist in favor of cupping your cheek, the warmth from your bath evident beneath his thumb when he stroked it against the apple while the rest of his fingers softly rested against your neck.

His lips were warm and minty when they met yours, the softest slip of his tongue making your skin tingle with goosebumps.

“Well…” his hand slowly trailed down your neck to cup your shoulder, your bicep, your elbow. “I can make some of it up to you now.”

His voice lowered minutely, taking on the tone that made the depths of your stomach twist delightfully.

“Thought you felt like barfing?” you asked as you stretched your arms up over your head, your chest extending out of the water as beads of bubbles cascaded down your breasts.

“Feel better now.” His response was quick, immediate, eager. You didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed down your body, his hand caressing the back of your arm softly.

You shrugged. “Maybe later.”

Your eyes didn’t leave his when you extended your foot out of the tub to press on the bottom of the faucet's handle, effectively pushing it up and all the way over to the left to fill the tub with some burning hot water for the third time that evening.

“I charge interest, yanno.” An expectant raise of your brow accentuated your words.

A subtle smirk tugged on his lips - he knew exactly what you meant; the eager glint in his eye, the soft flutter of his lashes. It looked eerily similar to his expressions throughout the wedding, as if he was imaging all the ways he could devour you if you’d just let him. All the ways he could pay you back, how many times he could make it up to you.

A bit of waiting never hurt anyone. If anything, it made it sweeter in the end.

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts! xo

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army-of-mai-lovers · 4 years

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in which I get progressively angrier at the various tropes of atla fandom misogyny

tbh I think it would serve all of us to have a larger conversation about the specific ways misogyny manifests in this fandom, because I’ve seen a lot of people who characterize themselves as feminists, many of whom are women themselves, discuss the female characters of atla/lok in misogynistic ways, and people don’t talk about it enough.

disclaimer before I start: I’m not a woman, I’m an afab nonbinary person who is semi-closeted and thus often read as a woman. I’m speaking to things that I’ve seen that have made me uncomfy, but if any women (esp women existing along other axes of oppression, e.g. trans women, women of color, disabled women, etc) want to add onto this post, please do!

“This female character is a total badass but I’m not even a little bit interested in exploring her as a human being.”

I’ve seen a lot of people say of various female characters in atla/lok, “I love her! She’s such a badass!” now, this statement on its own isn’t misogynistic, but it represents a pretty pervasive form of misogyny that I’ve seen leveled in large part toward the canon female love interests of one or both of the members of a popular gay ship (*cough* zukka *cough*) I’m going to use Suki as an example of this because I see it with her most often, but it can honestly be applied to nearly every female character in atla/lok. Basically, people will say that they stan Suki, but when it comes time to engage with her as an actual character, they refuse to do it. I’ve seen meta after meta about Zuko’s redemption arc, but I so rarely see people engage with Suki on any level beyond “look at this cool fight scene!” and yeah, I love a cool Suki fight scene as much as anybody else, but I’m also interested in meta and headcanons and fics about who she is as a person, when she isn’t an accessory to Sokka’s development or doing something cool. of course, the material for this kind of engagement with Suki is scant considering she doesn’t have a canon backstory (yet) (don’t let me down Faith Erin Hicks counting on you girl) but with the way I’ve seen people in this fandom expand upon canon to flesh out male characters, I know y’all have it in you to do more with Suki, and with all the female characters, than you currently do. frankly, the most engagement I’ve seen with Suki in mainstream fandom is justifying either zukki (which again, is characterizing her in relation to male characters, one of whom she barely interacts with in canon) or one of the Suki wlw pairings. which brings me to--

“I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”

now, I will admit, two of my favorite atla ships are yueki and mailee, and so I totally understand being interested in these characters’ dynamics, even if, as is the case with yueki, they’ve never interacted canonically. however, it becomes a problem for me when these ships are always in the background of a zukka fic. at some point, it becomes obvious that you like this ship because it gets either Zuko or Sokka’s female love interests out of the way, not because you actually think the characters would mesh well together. It’s bad form to dislike a female character because she gets in the way of your gay ship, so instead, you find another girl to pair her off with and call it a day. to be clear, I’m not saying that everybody who ships either mailee or yueki (or tysuki or maisuki or yumai or whatever other wlw rarepair involving Zuko or Sokka’s canon love interests) is nefariously trying to sideline a female character while acting publicly as if she’s is one of their faves--far from it--but it is noteworthy to me how difficult it is to find content that centers wlw ships, while it’s incredibly easy to find content that centers zukka in which mailee and/or yueki plays a background role.

also, notice how little traction wlw Katara ships gain in this fandom. when’s the last time you saw yuetara on your dash? there’s no reason for wlw Katara ships to gain traction in a fandom that is so focused on Zuko and Sokka getting together, bc she doesn’t present an immediate obstacle to that goal (at least, not an obstacle that can be overcome by pairing her up with a woman). if you are primarily interested in Zuko and Sokka’s relationship, and your queer readings of other female characters are motivated by a desire to get them out of the way for zukka, then Katara’s canon m/f relationship isn’t a threat to you, and thus, there’s no reason to read her as potentially queer. Or even, really, to think about her at all.

“Katara’s here but she’s not actually going to do anything, because deep down, I’m not interested in her as a person.”

the show has an enormous amount of textual evidence to support the claim that Sokka and Katara are integral parts of each other’s lives. so, she typically makes some kind of appearance in zukka content. sometimes, her presence in the story is as an actual character with layers and nuance, someone whom Sokka cares about and who cares about Sokka in return, but also has her own life and goals outside of her brother (or other male characters, for that matter.) sometimes, however, she’s just there because halfway through writing the author remembered that Sokka actually has a sister who’s a huge part of the show they’re writing fanfiction for, and then they proceed to show her having a meetcute with Aang or helping Sokka through an emotional problem, without expressing wants or desires outside of those characters. I’m honestly really surprised that I haven’t seen more people calling out the fact that so much of Katara’s personality in fanon revolves around her connections to men? she’s Aang’s girlfriend, she’s Sokka’s sister, she’s Zuko’s bestie. never mind that in canon she spends an enormous amount of time fighting against (anachronistic, Westernized) sexism to establish herself as a person in her own right, outside of these connections. and that in canon she has such interesting complex relationships with other female characters (e.g. Toph, Kanna, Hama, Korra if you want to write lok content) or that there are a plethora of characters with whom she could have interesting relationships with in fanon (Mai, Suki, Ty Lee, Yue, Smellerbee, and if you want to write lok content, Kya II, Lin, Asami, Senna, etc). to me, the lack of fandom material exploring Katara’s relationships with other women or with herself speak to a profound indifference to Katara as a character. I’m not saying you have to like Katara or include her in everything you write, but I am asking you to consider why you don’t find her interesting outside of her relationships with men.

“I hate Katara because she talks about her mother dying too often.”

this is something I’ve seen addressed by people far more qualified than I to address it, but I want to mention it here in part because when I asked people which fandom tropes they wanted me to talk about, this came up often, but also because I find it really disgusting that this is a thing that needs to be addressed at all. Y’all see a little girl who watched her mother be killed by the forces of an imperialist nation and say that she talks about it too much??? That is a formational, foundational event in a child’s life. Of course she’s going to talk about it. I’ve seen people say that she doesn’t talk about it that often, or that she only talks about it to connect with other victims of fn imperialism e.g. Jet and Haru, but frankly, she could speak about it every episode for no plot-significant reason whatsoever and I would still be angry to see people say she talks about it too much. And before you even bring up the Sokka comparison, people deal with grief in different ways. Sokka repressed a lot of his grief/channeled it into being the “man” of his village because he knew that they would come for Katara next if he gave them the opportunity. he probably would talk about his mother more if a) he didn’t feel massive guilt at not being able to remember what she looked like, and b) he was allowed to be a child processing the loss of his mother instead of having to become a tiny adult when Hakoda had to leave to help fight the fn. And this gets into an intersection with fandom racism, in that white fans (esp white American fans) are incapable of relating to the structural trauma that both Sokka and Katara experience and thus can’t see the ways in which structural trauma colors every single aspect of both of their characters, leading them to flatten nuance and to have some really bad takes. And you know what, speaking of bad fandom takes--

“Shitting on Mai because she gets in the way of my favorite Zuko ship is actually totally okay because she’s ~abusive~”

y’all WHAT.

ok listen, I get not liking maiko. I didn’t like it when I first got into fandom, and later I realized that while bryke cannot write romance to save their lives, fans who like maiko sure can, so I changed my tune. but if you still don’t like it, that’s fine. no skin off my back.

what IS skin off my back is taking instances in which Mai had justified anger toward Zuko, and turning it into “Mai abused Zuko.” do you not realize how ridiculous you sound? this is another thing where I get so angry about it that I don’t know how useful my analysis is actually going to be, but I’ll do my best. numerous people have noted how analysis of Mai and Zuko’s breakup in “The Beach” or Mai being justifiably angry with him at Boiling Rock or her asking for FUCKING FRUIT in “Nightmares and Daydreams” that says that all of these events were her trying to gain control over him is....ahhh...lacking in reading comprehension, but I’d like to go a step further and talk about why y’all are so intent on taking down a girl who doesn’t show emotion in normative ways. obviously, there’s a “Zuko can do no wrong” aspect to Mai criticism (which is super weird considering how his whole arc is about how he can do lots of wrong and he has to atone for the wrong that he’s done--but that’s a separate post.) But I also see slandering Mai for not expressing her emotions normatively and not putting up with Zuko’s shit and slandering Katara for “talking about her mother too often” as two sides of the same coin. In both cases, a female character expresses emotions that make you, the viewer, uncomfortable, and so instead of attempting to understand where those emotions may have come from and why they might be manifesting the way they are, y’all just throw the whole character away. this is another instance of people in the fandom being fundamentally disinterested in engaging with the female characters of atla in a real way, except instead of shallowly “stanning” Mai, y’all hate her. so we get to this point where female characters are flattened into one of two things: perfect queens who can do no wrong, or bitches. and that’s not who they are. that’s not who anyone is. but while we as a fandom are pretty good at understanding b1 Zuko’s actions as layered and multifaceted even though he’s essentially an asshole then, few are willing to lend the same grace to any female character, least of all Mai.

and what’s funny is sometimes this trope will intersect with “I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”, so you’ll have someone actively calling Mai toxic/problematic/abusive, and at the same time ship her with Ty Lee? make it make sense! but then again, maybe that’s happening because y’all are fundamentally disinterested in Ty Lee as a character too.

“I love Ty Lee so much that I’m going to treat her like an infantilized hypersexual airhead!”

there are so many things happening in y’alls characterization of Ty Lee that I struggled to synthesize it into one quippy section header. on one hand, you have the hypersexualization, and on the other hand, you have the infantilization, which just makes the hypersexualization that much worse.

(of course, sexualizing or hypersexualizing ANY atla character is really not the move, considering that these are child characters in a children’s show, but then again, that’s a separate post.)

now, I understand how, from a very, very surface reading of the text, you could come to the conclusion that Ty Lee is an uncomplicated bimbo. if you grew up on Western media the way I did, you’ll know that Ty Lee has a lot of the character traits we associate with bimbos: the form-fitting pink crop top, the general conventional attractiveness, the ditzy dialogue. but if you think about it for more than three seconds, you’ll understand that Ty Lee has spent her whole life walking a tightrope, trying to please Azula and the rest of the royal family while also staying true to herself. Ty Lee and Azula’s relationship is a really complex and interesting topic that I don’t really have time to explore at the moment given how long this post is, but I’d argue that Ty Lee’s constant, vocal adulation is at least partially a product of learning to survive at court at an early age. Like Mai, she has been forced to regulate her emotions as a member of fn nobility, but unlike Mai, she also has six sisters who look exactly like her, so she has a motivation to be more peppy and more affectionate to stand out.

fandom does not do the work to understand Ty Lee. as is a theme with this post, fandom is actively disinterested in investigating female characters beyond a very surface level reading of them. Thus, fandom takes Ty Lee’s surface level qualities--her love of the color pink, her revealing standard outfit, and the fact that once she found a boy attractive and also once a lot of boys found her attractive--and they stretch this into “Ty Lee is basically Karen Smith from Mean Girls.” thus, Ty Lee is painted as a bimbo, or more specifically, as not smart, uncritically adoring of Azula (did y’all forget all the non-zukka bits of Boiling Rock?), and attractive to the point of hypersexualization. I saw somebody make a post that was like “I wish mailee was more popular but I’m also glad it isn’t because otherwise people would write it as Mai having to put up with her dumb gf” and honestly I have to agree!! this is one instance in which I’m glad that fandom doesn’t discuss one of my favorite characters that often because I hate the fanon interpretation of Ty Lee, I think it’s rooted in misogyny (particularly misogyny against East Asian women, which often takes the form of fetishizing them and viewing them only through a Western white male gaze)

(side note: here at army-of-mai-lovers, we stan bimbos. bimbos are fucking awesome. I personally don’t read Ty Lee as a bimbo, but if that’s you, that’s fucking awesome. keep doing what you’re doing, queen <3 or king or monarch, it’s 2021, anyone can be a bimbo, bitches <3)

“Toph can and will destroy everyone here with her bare hands because she’s a meathead who likes to murder people and that’s it!”

Toph is, and always has been, one of my favorite ATLA characters. My very first fic in fandom was about her, and she appears prominently in a lot of my other work as well. One thing that I am always struck by with Toph is how big a heart she has. She’s independent, yes, snarky, yes, but she cares about people--even the family that forced her to make herself smaller because they didn’t believe that their blind daughter could be powerful and strong. Her storyline is powerful and emotionally resonant, her bending is cool precisely because it’s based in a “wait and listen” approach instead of just smashing things indiscriminately, she’s great disabled rep, and overall one of the best characters in the show.

And in fandom, she gets flattened into “snarky murder child.”

So where does this come from? Well, as we all know, Toph was originally conceived of as a male character, and retained a lot of androgyny (or as the kids call it, Gender) when she was rewritten as a female character. There are a lot of cultural ideas about androgynous/butch women being violent, and people in fandom seem to connect that larger cultural narrative with some of Toph’s more violent moments in the show to create the meathead murder child trope, erasing her canon emotionality, softness, heart, and femininity in the process.

This is not to say that you shouldn’t write or characterize Toph as being violent or snarky at all ever, because yeah, Toph definitely did do Earth Rumbles a lot before joining the gaang, and yeah, Toph is definitely a sarcastic person who makes fun of her friends a lot. What I am saying is that people take these traits, sans the emotional logic, marry them to their conception of androgynous/butch women as violent/unemotional/uncaring, and thus create a caricature of Toph that is not at all up to snuff. When I see Toph as a side character in a fic (because yeah, Toph never gets to be a main character, because why would a fandom obsessed with one male character in particular ever make Toph a protagonist in her own right?) she’s making fun of people, killing people, pranking people, etc, etc. She’s never talking to people about her emotions, or palling around with her found family, or showing that she cares about her friends. Everything about her relationship with her parents, her disability, her relationship to Gender, and her love of her friends is shoved aside to focus on a version of Toph that is mean and uncaring because people have gotten it into their heads that androgynous/butch women are mean and uncaring.

again, we see a female character who does not emote normatively or in a way that makes you, the viewer, comfortable, and so you warp her character until she’s completely unrecognizable and flat. and for what?

Azula

no, I didn’t come up with a snappy name for this section, mainly because fanon interpretations of Azula and my own feelings toward the character are...complicated. I know there were some people who wanted me to write about Azula and the intersection of misogyny and ableism in fanon interpretations of her character, but I don’t think I can deliver on that because I personally am in a period of transition with how I see Azula. that is to say, while I still like her and believe that she can be redeemed, there is a lot of merit to disliking her. the whole point of this post is that the female characters of ATLA are complex people whom the fandom flattens into stereotypes that don’t hold up to scrutiny, or dislike for reasons that don’t make sense. Azula, however, is a different case. the rise of Azula defenders and Azula stans has led to this sentiment that Azula is a 14 y/o abuse victim who shouldn’t be held accountable for her actions. it seems to me that people are reacting to a long, horrible legacy of male ATLA fans armchair diagnosing Azula with various personality disorders (and suggesting that people with those personality disorders are inherently monstrous and unlovable which ahhhh....yikes) and then saying that those personality disorders make her unlovable, which is quite obviously bad. and hey, I get loving a character that everyone else hates and maybe getting so swept up in that love that you forget that your fave is complicated and has made some unsavory choices. it sucks that fanon takes these well-written, complex villains/antiheroes and turns them into monsters with no critical thought whatsoever. but the attitude among Azula stans that her redemption shouldn’t be hard, that her being a child excuses all of the bad things that she’s done, that she is owed redemption....all of that rubs me the wrong way. I might make another post about this in the future that discusses this in more depth, but as it stands now: while I understand that there is a legacy of misogynistic, ableist, unnuanced takes on Azula, the backlash to that does not take into account the people she hurt or the fact that in ATLA she does not make the choice to pursue redemption. and yes, Zuko had help in making that choice that Azula didn’t, and yes, Azula is a victim of abuse, but in a show about children who have gone through untold horrors and still work to better the lives of the people around them, that is not enough for me to uncritically stan her.

Conclusion

misogyny in this fandom runs rampant. while there are some tropes of fandom misogyny that are well-documented and have been debunked numerous times, there are other, subtler forms of misogyny that as far as I know have gone completely unchecked.

what I find so interesting about misogyny in atla fandom is that it’s clear that it’s perpetrated by people who are aware of fandom misogyny who are actively trying not to be misogynistic. when I first joined atla fandom last summer, memes about how zukka fandom was better than every other fandom because they didn’t hate the female characters who got in the way of their gay ship were extremely prevalent, and there was this sense that *this* fandom was going to model respectful, fun, feminist online fandom. not all of the topes I’ve outlined are exclusive to or even largely utilized in zukka fandom, but a lot of them are. I’ve been in and out of fandom since I was eleven years old, and most of the fandom spaces I’ve been in have been majority-female, and all of them have been incredibly misogynistic. and I always want to know why. why, in these communities created in large part by women, in large part for women, does misogyny run wild? what I realize now is that there’s never going to be a one-size fits all answer to that question. what’s true for 1D fandom on Wattpad in 2012 is absolutely not true for atla fandom on tumblr in 2021. the answers that I’ve cobbled together for previous fandoms don’t work here.

so, why is atla fandom like this? why did the dream of a feminist fandom almost entirely focused on the romantic relationship between two male characters fall apart? honestly, I think the notion that zukka fandom ever was this way was horrifically ignorant to begin with. from my very first moment in the fandom, I was seeing racism, widespread sexualization of minors, and yes, misogyny. these aspects of the fandom weren’t talked about as much as the crocverse or other, much more fun aspects. further, atla (specifically zukka) fandom misogyny often doesn’t look like the fandom misogyny we’ve become familiar with from like, Sherlock fandom or what have you. for the most part, people don’t actively hate Suki, they just “stan” without actually caring about her. they hate Mai because they believe in treating male victims of abuse equally. they’re not characterizing Toph poorly, they’re writing her as a “strong woman.” in short, people are misogynistic, and then invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of feminist theory to shield themselves from accusations of misogyny. it’s not unlike the way some people will invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of critical race theory to shield themselves from accusations of racism, or how they’ll talk about “freedom of speech” and “the suppression of women’s sexuality” to justify sexualizing minors. the performance of feminism and antiracism is what’s important, not the actual practice.

if you’ve made it this far, first off, hi, thanks so much for reading, I know this was a lot. second, I would seriously encourage you to be aware of these fandom tropes and to call them out when you see them. elevate the voices of fans who do the work of bringing the female characters of atla to life. invest in the wlw ships in this fandom. drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic (please, drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic). read some yuetara. let’s all be honest about where we are now, and try to do better in the future. I believe in us.

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wizkiddx · 4 years

Note

Please I request you and Tom Holland being the sort of ‘it/star couple’ and being really popular in the media and fans

Req if you want?🤪 + I’d love any feedback/tips <3

Sorry I changed this a bit just cos tom rn seems the opposite of being that public and I have 0 imagination, hope this is still okay!

Summary: Tomhollandxactress!reader - as the two of you go on your first public and official event, Tom cant help but show everyone how enamoured he is by you

The fallout of from yesterdays ceremony was definitely not what either of you had expected. Having stirred from sleep before your boyfriend, naturally you’d killed the morning flicking through your phone. As much as you normally tried to avoid the tabloids and twitter, especially after you released your relationship to the world, having had a bunch of your friends actually sent you links to them - it would be rude not to have a quick scan. Especially because, for once, they seemed to be positive.

You see, it had always been the little things with Tom. Even when you had just been getting to know him, it was the small and unconscious actions that even he didn’t know he did. You always said Toms love language was physical - as much as he wanted to say that it was ‘words if affirmation’ or something else corny he’d read on buzzfeed (you’d got him addicted and now lived to regret it). That didn’t mean that he had to be clinging on to you, or excessive PDA or anything of the sort. It was more subtle which somehow made them more special to you. Now though, the whole world seemed to have picked up on it too.

This was the first event the two of you had actually attended together. As in together together. As in not hiding. You had been nominated for best actress; whilst Tom’s newest movie was up for a few accolades too - so fair to say it was a big night for Hollywoods newest couple. Naturally since your instagram post 3 weeks ago, the world was obsessed with you both. All the way in the car, you leg had actually been trembling with nerves - bouncing up and down in your silhettohe heels. In attempt to calm you, Tom bumped his knee against yours before reaching over to actually squeeze your thigh.

“It’ll be fine you know?” You sighed shakily, turning your head to face Tom’s soft features. Both of you were dressed to the nines, you were in a glittery red chain-look scrappy dress; Tom in an all black suit, except the little pocket square of satin deep red - embellished with a single chain that came from your dress. Hopefully not too cliche but now the both of you were done with hiding - Tom seemed to want to just a little something. You hummed in response, searching the flicks of warm brown in his eyes with yours.

“It’s just new and we haven’t encountered all the questions yet so I don’t know how to answer them and -”

“We’ll do them together and-and you can say no Y/n/n… you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” Taking a long exhale, you hesitantly nodded, allowing a small smile to grow on your face. It was terrifying but you had this doting and angelic boy by your side. You’d get through any tough questions.

However it wasn’t actually the answers you spoke that evening that stuck in the public mind.

When you’d first pulled up to the carpet, Tom instantly hopped out and rounded the car door to get to your side just as you swung your legs out toe doorway. After waving quickly at the screaming crowd, he looked down and offered up his hand to you - which you gladly accepted. The LA weather was beautiful, and the evening was just rolling into golden hour- the suns brilliant yellow-orange light bathing your body as you climbed out the car.

The screaming used to be terrifying and although today was a little more nerve wracking than normal, you still could be nothing but appreciative for all these people showing up. In your head it was so bizarre that anyone would spend so much time and effort to meet you - really you were just normal person, and pretty boring one at that. Yet here you were in the most bizarre situation, there was nothing else to do but smile and wave.

Just like that you went into the ‘celebrity mode’. The pair of you worked your way down the sides, smiling warmly for selfies and signing various posters and memorabilia. Really there was nothing to worry about, everyone there was nothing but lovely - many fan girls squealing about how amazing you looked. Tom kept himself close by, occasionally hovering his hand against the small of your back just to reassure you he was there.

Eventually you worked up to the press line, all of them calling your names with mics outstretched. The two of you approached the first in a long line, Tom taking the moment to just hook his pinky with yours (thinking no one else would notice) because this was clearly the more threatening part of the evening and he just knew you were feeling the anxieties all over again.

“Tom and Y/n!!! Wow how are you guys doing?” Hence began the start of overenthusiastic small talk from the blonde interviewer.

“I mean first I gotta ask you Tom…” She drew out the words, increasing the suspense somewhat, making Tom wiggle his brows “How insane does your girl look tonight?”

“Oh well” Tom chuckled whilst you tried to shake off the embarrassment. He looked you up and down with the biggest smirk on his face. “It’s fair to say my woman looks absolutely breathtaking. She came out the room and I did a little excited dance before we left.” The interviewer laughed and you bumped into his side, rolling your eyes in a joking fashion- though to be fair it was completely true. The interviewer then asked you a couple questions that were a bit more serious, relating to the darker material of work you were nominated for. During it a random gust of wind flew down the carpet, shocking everyone a little - none more so that the minimal pins in the top of your hair, which did little to restrict its movement and instead was flying allover the place. Squealing a little, your trial of though momentarily broken, both yours and Tom’s hands went to pull the long locks back down into place. You thought nothing of it, Tom had developed this weird thing about wanting to do you hair weeks ago - but you weren’t to complain. Constantly during movie nights, he’s be running his fingers through your strands of hair; or even after a shower he’d learn to plait it whilst you did your skincare routine. Whispering a little thanks to him, Tom then reached down to squeeze your hand as the attention was turned back to yet another interview.

The first article you clicked on was one that your best mate had texted you the link of. On opening it up, the title already made you scoff a little ‘Tom Holland single handedly restoring all hopes that men aren’t always trash’. What followed was 4 points.

You ever struggled to get out a car in heels? Get yourself a Spiderman to help you up

Hand holding too much PDA? How about a pinky grip?

Oh and he’s trained himself to become a hairdresser when the wind picks up….

Accompanying each subheading was photos of each moment that as it had happened yesterday evening. Unable to help yourself, you kept looking between your phone screen and Tom - who was still fast asleep, his arm wrapped protectively round your middle. The hair that had been so securely gelled back yesterday evening, now was falling over the front of his forehead and the sight was enough to give you that feeling in the centre of your chest. The dropping feeling as if you were jumping off the edge of a cliff - the adrenalin rush and heart in mouth moment. It had been 18 months you and Tom had been like this and he still gave you the most intense flutters - even if he was snoring.

Managing to tear your eyes away from him, you scrolled to the last point of the article.

4. And yes we know this is cliche… but we swear we have never seen ‘heart eyes’ in reality more that this.

And there was a photo of you, probably chatting pure shit to the interviewer, paying absolutely no attention to a particular pair of brown eyes on you. It was the way the outer corner of his eyes dropped a little to normal position; the way the corner of his lips were turned up just enough to show the slight dimples on his cheeks. Tom’s face had literally been the definition of uwu and you could not suppress the teenage girl like giggle that burst out your chest. That was enough to rouse Tom with a heavy groan, as he pulled himself flush against your side releasing a deep breath.

“Mhmmm… you laughin at me?” He slurred, eyes still shut against your stomach as you stared to card your fingers through his curls.

“Actually… I might just be” Smirking down at him, Tom yanked his his neck up, squinting at you with a scowl and barely open eyes. “You look so soft” laughing at his expression, you brought your hand out of his curls to smooth over his frown lines.

“ Don’t try and distract me… what you laughing at?” Still pouting, of course, the boy had never been a morning person

“Just… I think you’ve accidentally made us the new Hollywood ‘it’ couple.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #Tom Holland angst

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 3 years

Text

Note: this was a commission I got from a supporter on ko-fi. I hope that you’ll read it with the same enjoyment I had while writing it. If you want to commission or support me check the pinned post or the hyperlink, you’ll find all the details there. If you have questions, my DM is open 🤗. Also, your comments are always welcomed.

Promt: Wesker forgets about the reader’s birthday.

Pairing: Wesker x F!Reader

Word count: 2K

Type: fluff.

Wesker placed the samples with care on the table, starting his day as usual. He’s been spending his last few years, stuck in the lab researching all over again in order to achieve the wanted results. Since Uroborus is a high importance plan, he’s very meticulous about his schedule, respecting every minute precisely. Not a minute early, not a minute late. The only thing that he tries to put outside his schedule is you because he doesn’t like limiting the time he spends with his sweetheart. He cares so much about you that over the years he sees you as his equal, so he plans to inject you with the progenitor virus, a weaker strand because he can’t risk killing you. Because of this, he wants to do it on a special day, but the many opportunities that arrived didn’t fit in his schedule. The greatest gift he ever received was the power he got after breaking the confines of humanity, so he wants you to experience the same joy. Wesker kept thinking about it but he would get distracted by his work, so his present would always be in the planning stage. He doesn’t want to do it suddenly, he wants to introduce the idea slowly to you because he respects your boundaries.

Once you earned his respect, Wesker can be a very carrying partner, human even. He knows every little detail about his sweetheart, from her birthday to what she last ate. It can seem creepy when you put it like this, but this is nothing more than a lover who deeply cares about his partner and seeks to make her happy. Wesker is not the greatest at showing it though because of his work life. He has little to no time to show his affection. He still shows you that he is there for you, but not as much as he wants, making him more frustrated. Sometimes when he comes home from work he is so tired he barely sees you, let alone talk with you. He either collapses on the couch or bed and falls asleep as you talk with him because he is just too exhausted to carry the conversation. This doesn’t sit right with him because he gives all of his attention and energy to his work and doesn’t have any left for the only person that matters to him, making him wonder if it’s all worth it.

The relationship didn’t have a great start, since you expected Albert to be with you at least 8 hours a day but you’re lucky if you catch him once a week. He’s not the type to express himself and constantly expects others to read his mind, so you two would end up fighting. You have mistaken the lack of presence as rudeness and indifference, basing your reasoning on all the rumors you heard until you realized they were all stupid. Wesker proved to be the contrary, talking so nicely to you and not belittling you at all even if you piss him off. The amount of respect this man offered you even from the beginning is astonishing. He was so transparent with you and with all he does and he had so much patience until you understood. He was just a working man with probably burnout syndrome, so you took the responsibility to take care of him.

His phone buzzed since he started his work. Calls, messages, idiots without brains, as he calls them, needed help doing their job. When he had enough he picked up his phone and started to scroll down through notifications. Some of these people make him curse like a sailor, especially the one who texted him the most. As useful as Excella is in helping with his projects, as annoying she can be. Hundreds of messages and calls, some related to work some not. A particular question caught his attention.

“Do you think y/n would like this?” A picture of a purse was attached. Excella can’t stand you for obvious reasons, but out of respect for Albert, she tries to be friends with you. Still, why would Excella buy something for you out of the blue?

“Is something special today?” He thought.

The horrifying grimace when the realization hit cannot be described. Today is indeed a special day, your birthday. To be honest, he doesn’t care about birthdays. He despises them because they are a reminder of our mortality, but he knows how much you care about such occasions. Every year you got him something even if he insisted not to buy anything for him. Seeing you care and how much you enjoy receiving gifts he changed his mindset. Usually, he would give you something common, just as others would, but then he began to put more effort until there wasn’t anything material in this world to give. That’s how the progenitor virus gift arises in his head. However, he’s been so caught up with his research on Uroborus that he completely forgot to make the preparations. You don’t feel the days pass when you’re stuck in a lab all the time. He puts the phone aside, grabs his coat, and rushes out of the building ignoring the people that are trying to talk with him. If not the virus, he will have to find something common.

He’s not a fan of last minutes gifts but he has no choice. The guilt crushed him further as he remember he hasn’t talked with you all day. The ride to the jewels store felt like ages, even if it was relatively close. Luck was on his side since he found the store open.

None of the jewelry in front of him caught his attention because it wasn’t something he hopes of giving you. He already buried you in gold. You have the finest, unique, and expensive jewels in the world. He wouldn’t have been injected you in a lab of course. He wanted a special place for your rebirth. All of his ideas were put on paper, but probably got lost in the pile of reports. All he wanted was to see you smile on the most important day of your life, perhaps looking at him with the same eyes as his. He wanted to make you feel as you were the center of his universe, his queen, but he failed miserably. Maybe if he had gotten any outstanding results today he wouldn’t be so upset, but it was just another ordinary day. The lady tried talking with him but he was lost in his thoughts. Knowing it’s late and that you’re waiting for him, he bought a pearl necklace and left in hurry. On his way home he tried thinking of what to say, what excuse would be the best but he concluded that all of them were outdated.

Before opening the door, he hid the small package in the inner pocket of his coat. That lady was in hurry to close the store and didn't want to wrap the necklace if gift wrap. Wesker will remember that.

“I’m home!” He shouted once he entered. He may screw up, but he is not a man who runs away from conflict or a man who doesn’t own his mistakes.

“I thought you’d spend the night in your lab.” She said while giving him a peck on his cheek. “You need a vacation dear, you’ll be worn out before your time”

You were so carrying with him, so kind, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t deserve your kindness.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

“About?” You were starting to get worried. He left in hurry this morning and you didn’t hear anything from him all day. Excella told you briefly about him, but she talked more about the purse she bought for you which was more for her taste, not yours. Judging by his face you realized he had something on his mind, but you would never think it was because he forgot about your birthday. You expected him to talk about an outbreak rather than your forgotten birthday. To your surprise, he started apologizing.

“I was so caught up in my work I-“ he considers apologies a waste of time since we could do better things with our mortality and limited time, but for a reason, humans care about these.

“It’s alright my love.” You caress his face as a reassuring sign. “I understand.” You’re not upset at him. He genuinely cares about you and you can’t judge him, not after all the good things he has done for you. And besides, you know he doesn’t fully mean it, but you appreciate that he still does it for the sake of your feelings.

You began to caress his cheeks, to place small kisses all over his face. You see him rarely so you make sure to show him how much you love him as well. You hug him and he instantly hugged you back. After a while, you broke the hug and lead him to the couch so you can talk about each other’s day. He’s thankful you both moved on.

Eventually, you two got more comfortable. You let all your weight fall over his body as his strong arms were wrapped around your torso. His big hands were caressing your back while you found your peace in that small, almost suffocating, clasp. You almost fell asleep when a gentle squeeze woke you.

“I almost forgot.” He said, almost whispering, before handing you your gift. “It’s not what I had planned, but I hope you’ll find it enjoyable.”

Hazily, you took the small box Albert handled to you. It was a normal, jewelry box with the logo of the store on it. Inside there was a beautiful, shiny pearl necklace. Your delicate fingers touched the pearls with care, feeling their gritty texture and small bumps here and there. It weighs heavy in your hands. You fell in love instantly with the accessory. Seeing how happy you are, Albert offered to put it at your neck. Its elegance enhanced your natural beauty. It looks like it was made solely for you, like an extension of your body.

“I bet it was a lot.” You said with a somehow sorrow in your voice. You don’t want Albert to spend heavy money on you, because it’s his presence that you enjoy and value the most.

“Don’t worry about it, I like spending money on you.” And it was true, he loves dressing you in the most expensive clothing to flatter your body. You’re a goddess to him. Not to mention it strokes his ego to know that he’s able to provide such beautiful things to you. “At least this is what I can do.”

“And it’s perfect this way.” You can see him relax a little.

“I’ll make it up to you, I just need some time.” Time, mortality, death. Once again he was reminded of his plan that was supposed to fix humanity's greatest flaw, and his expression suddenly changed. That didn’t get past Y/N’s attention.

“Albert sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, some problems I need to solve.”

“Are they urgent?”

“Yes, very.”

“I’m sure they can wait until tomorrow.”

He scanned your body carefully. You weren’t getting any younger. Time left its mark on you. Not in an unpleasant way, but still noticeable.

“There something I need to tell you.” He said while sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you how you admire your new necklace. In the lights of the vanity mirror the pearls shine brighter, being more appealing than before making it impossible to take your eyes off them.

“What is it?” You said while gazing at your own reflection.

He choose his words carefully, but no matter how he put them, it could scare you. It’s not the time or the place. He doesn’t want to ruin your happiness. His actual surprise might not sit well with you, but it’s not your choice after all. If he considers it the best option for you he will do it regardless of your opinion. Still, this day came out better than he expected.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Tags: @xx-sectumsempra-xx @residentzero2028 @heisentitties (dm if you wanna be in the tag list)

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker fluff #commission #albert wesker x fem!reader

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

Text

To Be Free - CH01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Escaping and hiding away, that’s what she wants to do. Her parent’s remote cabin in the mountain sounds like the best place for it. There, she meets someone from her past — a green-eyed mountain man.

Chapter Warnings: A little back story, cheating (not Dean), language, threats being made, car accident

WC: 2481

Beta: @winchest09 <3

A/N: So, this is the beginning of the Mountain Man!Dean AU. I hope you’ll like it!

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The phone buzzes on the seat next to her. Again.

It hasn’t stopped ringing since Y/N had gotten into the car and drove away. She’s so close to just throwing it out of the window but then again, the rational side of her brain tells her that she would endanger the automobiles around her on the highway, and she doesn’t really want to cause any damage, or accidents, if it can be avoided.

“You’re a goody-goody.” Mick always used to say, “It’ll get you in trouble if you don’t toughen up.”

Perhaps Mick was right. She probably was not made to work in that firm where she has to help fucking criminals. But then again, he made it seem so plausible and she can’t believe that she fell for it all. Y/N had fallen for the prestige, for the fame, and most of all, she had fallen for Mick, and that was the worst fucking mistake.

The events of that night flash before her eyes once more.

It’s 9 PM. Mick usually doesn’t have a reason to work so late unless he has a meeting with the mob family that they have under their wings. She never liked to go to their meetings, always found an excuse to opt out. The way the men always stare at her like she was a piece of meat rather than a woman with a brain, always sent a chill down her spine.

When she stepped out of the elevator, the floor was dark. There’s only minimal light coming from the reception area that’s vacated at this time of the night. Y/N never liked to be here after hours but it’s the only place she thought she could find Mick. He didn’t pick up his phone when she called him which was highly unusual. Somehow, she was a little afraid of what she would find. It could be him just laughing and joking with the mobsters, but it could also have been him bruised and beaten beyond recognition because the Family wasn’t happy with his work, or it could be worse. He could be dead. Today was his birthday too and she even ordered catering for the both of them to enjoy at home. She guessed that she would have to pop the dishes into the microwave because by the time she decided to check here, it was already starting to turn cold.

Walking further along the hallway, she noticed that the lights in Mick’s office are still on and a sense of relief washed over her, while the sense of dread built up in the pit of her stomach at the same time.

“Oh god, Mick.”

There was a faint moan that carried through the hallway of the offices. It made her blood freeze, but it forced her to walk faster.

“Mmh,” she heard Mick humming. “Always so fucking tight for me, Eve. Such a good pussy.”

“Better than Y/N, I’d hope.”

Mick chuckled, “I’d rather you not talk about her while I fuck you. You know you’re my best girl, baby.”

The dread in Y/N’s stomach intensified and something began to churn inside of her. She had to clutch it so as not to just hurl out the whole contents into the next pot plant she could find.

Eve was her friend. Her best friend since she moved into the city two years ago. She was even the one who helped Eve to get a job at her boyfriend’s firm.

Well, not her boyfriend anymore, she guessed.

She reached the door, fingers clutched around the frame for purchase as she took in the image before her. Eve was bent over the table, Mick half undressed, fucking into her from behind.

He threw his head back as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he turned his head and their eyes met.

For a brief second, she thought she saw a smirk twisting at his lips when he noticed her. He kept on pounding into Eve, though, his pace never faltered.

Y/N retreated, tears pooled in her eyes and she moved on autopilot. Before she knew it, she found herself in her office, packing the things that she needed into her laptop bag.

‘Stupid! So fucking stupid!’ she thought. She should have seen it. Why hadn’t she seen it? The red flags were always there. Mick always gave her assignments that would see her traveling all over the country for a long stretch of time. She would find receipts of hotels laying around in the apartment, or when she did laundry, but he always had a good reason. They hadn’t been intimate for a long time, too. Mick was always too tired and if he wasn’t then she would be. And if that happened, he would get out of bed and said that he needed a drink and was out of the apartment before she could even say anything. She was so engrossed in her work and too oblivious to what was going on, that she ignored all the warning signs.

She was crying now, the tears not stopping. But it’s not over Mick. She would never cry over a man who had treated her like this. She cried for herself, for being dumb enough to let someone play her.

Bending down to pack the remainder of her things, she opened her last drawer, revealing a little safe that was neatly tucked inside. Without hesitation, she punched in the combination and it sprang open. It contained a single USB stick.

Picking it up, she clutched it in the palm of her hand. She had forgotten about the small device and now she knew why Mick kept her around. She was the only person who had a copy of the shady business his clients are doing, because she was involved as much as Mick. He was never going to give her up because if the information got leaked, he'd be taking the fall.

There were footsteps along the hallway, the thumping sounds getting louder as someone rushed to her office and she quickly let the stick slip into her jean pocket.

“What are you doing?” he asked too casually but with a bitter undertone, acting like he hadn’t just fucked her best friend.

“What does it look like?” she snarled, patience wearing thin. “I quit. And don’t even come by my apartment anymore.”

He walked in further; his hair was ruffled and the buttons on his shirt were hastily done up, the material lopsided as he had fastened them wrong. She was so disgusted by his appearance.

Mick rubbed his hand over his chin, carefully thinking about his next words. “I need the USB stick before you leave.”

She snorted. That’s typical. All he could think about is his fucking business. “I don’t have it.”

“Liar!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t anger him but screw that.

“Y/N.” Mick rounded up around her desk and came to stand right before her. The scent of sex hit her nose in waves. It made her nauseous. “You’re going to get into so much trouble if they know that you have it and believe me, if you walk out of here, they will find out because I will tell them.”

“I’m not scared of those men.”

Mick laughed. Fucking laughed.

“They’ll come for you, Y/N. Those men are not to be fucked with.” He was still chuckling when he said, “They will find you and they will kill you.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and maybe she should have been scared of Mick and his threats but she’s still got the upper hand. If she got to expose him first, she has bargaining leverage. Maybe she’d get to be in a witness protection program. By the time it hits the fan, she will hopefully be long gone.

“I don’t have it,” she said again as she bumped her shoulder against his on her way out, shoving him to the side.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Mick called after her, his voice echoing in the almost empty hallway.

With her head held high, she descended the stairs, too impatient and not to say scared to wait for the elevator.

The phone buzzed again after having only stopped for a short time. It actually hasn’t stopped ringing since she drove back to her apartment to pack her duffel with enough clothes that should last her for a couple of days. She wanted to get out of here, clear her head, think about what to do next.

It’s after she stopped for gas that she remembered the remote cabin that belonged to her parents. They hadn’t been up there for a while as the health of her father was deteriorating but she knew where they kept the spare key, and it’s the only place she knew nobody would come looking for her because she hadn’t been with Mick long enough to let him in on the existence of the cabin, nor on the memories the place held.

Buying enough food that would last her a couple of days, she drove towards the foot of the mountain.

It was February and the roads were icy as it had snowed just last night. She hoped that her car would have enough power to get her up there, as she didn’t have snow chains with her. Not that she knew how to put them on in the first place. If worse comes to worst, she’d have to abandon her car and hike up the last bit, which was totally fine with her too. Anything to get away from civilization.

As she made her way up the snowy road and rounded up the twelfth bend in the street (There were fourteen - she had counted them from the drive up there every winter), her phone buzzed again.

She glanced over to the passenger seat to catch the caller ID. It could be her mother for all she knew and that one, she would pick up. Y/N would maybe tell her that she was on the way to the cabin so that they wouldn’t be too worried if they can’t get a hold of her, because the reception could be pretty spotty up there.

But no, it’s fucking Mick again. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the name flash on the screen before turning her gaze back to the snow-covered street in front of her, but it was already too late. Out of her periphery, she caught it. The deer that ran out of the woods, its eyes wide when it saw the headlights of her SUV. Her foot hit the break immediately, but it was too late. The car swerved on the icy ground and she hoped she didn’t hit the animal before her vision goes black.

Dean was sitting in his recliner in the cabin while he enjoyed his glass of bourbon. It’s his downtime, one of his favorite pastimes, next to spending his days out with Stevie, his Bernese mountain dog.

He had been coming to this cabin since his early childhood, having only missed one Winter out of the many. There were times where he would only spend a week up here but also there were times where he would be there for the whole winter. It’s his favorite place, always has been.

The cabin is not as big as the ones that surrounded it, but it’s enough. It has only one bedroom, yet it was cozy. He remembered back to when he was younger, when he and his younger brother would sleep on the fold-out couch while his parents took the bedroom. Sometimes if Sam was upset with him, Dean would spend the night on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and it was the best thing. He almost felt bad for wanting to get into a fight with Sam more often so that his sibling wouldn’t look at him funny when he wanted to spend the night on the floor instead of on the worn-out couch.

Once his parents stopped their annual visit up there, and they wanted to sell the cabin, Dean had saved enough money to buy it from them. There were just too many memories tied to the little property, too many of them that he wasn’t willing to just forget.

While he took a sip from his tumbler, Stevie lifted her head and twisted her ears.

Dean noticed, and immediately reached down to pat the dog's head, “What's wrong, Stevie?”

The dog ignored him to get up and walk over to the door, letting out a whine as her nails started to scratch at the wood.

“Easy, girl,” he soothes the agitated dog. “You wanna go out for a walk again?”

Stevie whined some more, her scratching becoming more frantic.

“Right,” Dean sighed as he got out of his seat. He took his time to empty his tumbler before setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s go then.”

The snow had started to fall again as they got out of the cabin, and he ducked inside once more to grab his hat that’s hanging on the hook right behind the door. Stevie was not impressed that it was taking Dean so long to get ready and started to bark.

“Easy, Stevie,” he chuckled as her wet nose nuzzled against his palm. He reached down to scratch behind her ear, a motion that seemed to calm her down. “Good girl.”

They made their way down the street. The old snow crunched underneath his boots. Fresh layers of the white powder would cover over it soon enough, erasing their prints when it settled. He thought about doing their usual nightly walk around the perimeter, wondering if maybe they’d see a deer or two. Stevie had a way with deer. They love to meet her and Dean’s always mesmerized by the unusual bond they had. Stevie was always good with other animals and people, the dog’s sense to protect everyone is highly admirable, and Dean really couldn’t wish for a better companion.

As they rounded up the second bend in the road, he saw the car. Its headlights were still on but the front was wrapped around a tree which was the only thing standing between the car and the abyss. It was not a strong pine and the wood was already creaking under the weight.

Stevie rushed forward and Dean followed suit. The tree was going to give in at any minute, he just knew and if he couldn’t save the car, maybe he would be able to save whoever was stuck in there.

Dean thankfully reached the vehicle in time, yanking the driver’s door open and the sight of the girl slumped over the steering wheel made his blood run colder than the icy road he was standing on.

“Y/N?”

CH02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#to be free #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #mountain man!Dean #nathalie writes

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marunalu · 3 years

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Bakugou stans want that Bakugou becomes like a heroes for the quirkless people? Like I just read some of them thinking that Bakugou understand how hard is for quirkless people live in a quirk society and I get so mad. Of course that Bakugou understand how hard is because he was a bully for one of them. If someone has to say something about quirkless discrimination that would be either Aoyama or Izuku, both quirkless both that think that they need to change because society pushed them down, when they take the first opportunity they had to become "normal". Sure Bakugou can understand Midoriya because he tormented Izuku but he doesn't know what it's like to be pushed and hated only because they born "different" "useless", "damaged" or "broken". If Horikoshi is a good writter or a decent one he should let Izuku finally talks about his trauma. Bakugou speaking about quirkless people feels like privileged kids that wants to talk about how hard is being poor, black, latino or wherever when they never understand what it's being in that people shoes. Maybe, they have good intension but they will never understand how that people feels.

The only thing that bakugou understands about quirkless people is how to make them suffer and abuse them! Other then that he knows shit! How is he supposed to know how hard it is, if he never was in an quirkless persons shoes? He was worshipped and admired his whole life, even from his own victim, what makes zero sense! He has no right to talk about how hard life for quirkless people is, the same as endavour has no right to talk about how hard the life of abuse victims is! Honestly I didnt like the newest chapter that much, hori again missed the prime oppunity for izuku to talk about his trauma and at that point of the story, I dont think it will ever happen. I lost all my hope in that regard! Hori cant let izuku talk about his trauma, reflect and heal from it, because it would make bakugou look bad and confirm to his stans, that what he did was horrible and cant be erased from his or izukus past! And the backlash hori would have to face if he makes bakugou look bad would be to huge. Remember there were bakugou fans that were pissed about him “apologiezing“ to izuku, because now they cant relate to him anymore! Instead he did go for terrible timed fanservice that wasnt even funny at all. No meaningful and deeper character development for izuku, or EVEN bakugou - nope, BOOOBBBBSSSSS!!!!

Bakugou is no hero material in generell and espicially not for quirkless people. And the only reason his stans want that to happen is because of their disgusting bakudeku ship, because apparently its sooooooo romantic if the abuser stands up for his victim, right?!

The only people in this manga who have any right to talk about quirkless discrimination are izuku and aoyama. All might was quirkless too, but he lost a lot of my respect when I found out he was quirkless too, but dared to tell an other quirkless boy, he cant be a hero! That was a top hypocrite moment and Im still salty about that. And thats why izuku is a way better hero as all might.

I really hoped hori would take his time with the whole quirkless discrimination thing and dig a little deeper, make a little arc about it of lets say 10 chapters and make face everyone, including bakugou the reality what quirkless people go through, but nooo we cant have that, instead we got 3 terrible rushed chapters with aoyamas traitor and quirkless and hagakures face reveal, cramped in 3 chapters. And now the whole anticipitated traitor plot in done! After 3 chapters!

It really feels like hori wants to end the manga as soon as possible. Wouldnt shock me if it ends next summer at that pace. And as a dad for one believer I really fear now that he will completly botcher the reveal of that too. 1 chapter for the reveal, 1 chapter for izuku in shock and denial and 1 chapter for izuku to overcome it in a blink and kill his father off! 😂😂😂😂

#bnha #izuku midoriya #yuga aoyama #dad for one theory #anti bakugou #anti katsuki #anti bakugou katsuki #anti bakudeku #anti bkdk

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gar-trek · 3 years

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I review killing time (or whatever)

Okay, yes this review has taken me forever and that’s because there’s so much I want to say, and most of it has very little to do with the plot of the book. I cut down a lot of this so you guys could just get to the main point of what I’m trying to say, so I apologize if this is a little brief or incomprehensible to those who haven’t read the book.

And also, before I get into it, I would like to say rest in peace to the author Della Van Hise, who passed away in march of this year. She contributed a lot to the fandom, especially in regards to K/S fiction, as well as publishing a lot of non-trek related work during her life.

First of all, if you have heard of Killing Time, there is probably one specific reason for that. It’s the same reason I picked up the book in the first place and why it’s really even a topic of discussion on this site. To put the story quite briefly, Killing Time was recalled during its initial release on account of the book having too many slash elements (aka, the relationship between Kirk and Spock could be read as sexual/romantic). I first heard about the book here in this post where the history of it is worded to sound like one very dramatic mystery. One user (no shade intended here) even goes as far as to say the book was recalled by old Gene himself! Now I’m always one for drama and such, but after reading the book I looked into it a little more, and I don’t think that’s exactly how it went down.

Here you can find multiple statements from the author herself, in which she tells the whole story. According to her, the book publisher accidentally released an unedited manuscript that was never supposed to make it to the public. So technically the publisher did not recall the book because it was “too gay”, they recalled it because they printed a version that was never meant for the public to see anyway. These were the edits that were specifically requested by Paramount, who the publishers were supposed to go through to get the final okay on all material. And like, yeah, all of Paramounts edits were pretty much to delete any sentence where Spock and Kirk are tender to each other, they were trying to make is less homoerotic, obviously. I understand why this slight distinction may not make much of a difference to you guys, but for me it’s important to note that the book wasn’t recalled because it was too gay, it was just never supposed to be gay in the first place. It doesn’t make that fact any better, but it does make it less dramatic, in my opinion. I encourage you to read the statements from the author on this topic though, because she gives the whole story a lot better then I just did.

Now to address the main question at hand, does Killing Time depict a romantic relationship between Kirk and Spock, or is it all just hype? (in layman's terms, is the book gay or not?) and to answer quite plainly, yes it’s gay. of course it is. but then to answer less plainly, no. What the fuck do i mean by this? well let me try and explain.

I read the second edition of the book, aka the censored version, but I also followed along with the first edition (using this great article). The changes made to the book did not effect the plot at all, and were really only minor things. Notably, in the second edition they just kind of left out any part where Spock and Kirk touch each other (and I don’t mean in a sexual way). For example, there is a scene where Spock and Kirk are having a serious conversation in the ships garden. In the first edition, at the end of the conversation Spock places a hand on Kirks shoulder, which Kirk covers with his own hand. In the second addition, all mentions of this simple contact are deleted. The differences between the two are mostly little things like this. There is no secret sex scene or love confession hidden in the first addition. You see, in my opinion, the changes made to the second edition of the book do very little to censor the romantic undertones between Kirk and Spock. That’s because they are ingrained in the plot line itself.

One very important aspect to this book is that Kirk and Spock share a mental bond. This is something that can only happen between a Vulcan and another when they are extremely close. The mental bond that Kirk and Spock share is so strong in this book, it’s even present when they enter an alternate dimension where they are strangers to one another. There is a romance in this book between two original characters, and their relationship is constantly being paralleled by that of Kirk and Spock. And, maybe most telling, Spock refuses a female Romulan who is very interested in him over and over again simply because Kirk exists. And no, that’s not an exaggeration, here is a line from when the Romulan woman was begging Spock to be in a relationship with her:

“I need you. The Empire needs you, what more can there be?”

“James Kirk” the Vulcan murmured without hesitation.

That line is in both versions of the book. What I’m trying to say is yes, there are K/S elements in Killing Time. There are many tender moments and lots of talk about Kirk and Spock’s devotion to each other.

So now you’re asking yourself, Gar, why did you just say earlier that “no, the book is not gay”? Well, that’s because it’s not. This isn’t a K/S book. This isn’t a piece of Spirk fanfiction. Because for as much as this book is about Kirk and Spock’s relationship, it’s even more about Romulans (and more specifically, that one girlboss Romulan Commander from the Enterprise Incident.... bet ya didn't see that coming!) That’s right, the most controversial Star Trek book ever published is at it’s core quite plainly just a Star Trek book. There is weird alternate dimensions, time travel, espionage and lots and lots of Romulans!

Alright, alright, what I’m really trying to get at here is that yes, if you read into Killing Time there is K/S elements. I mean for god sake the author was a known K/S fanfic writer, that wasn’t a secret by any means. If she wrote their relationship a little more tenderly than most authors would have, can we really be surprised? But writing a K/S story was not her intention here, and that’s not what this is. I think the author put it best herself, so I’m just going to put that here:

“If people chose to see overtones of K/S in it, maybe it’s because there were overtones of K/S throughout Star Trek itself.”

People will hype up killing time as some secret confirmation that K/S is real and canon, and I really get that. Like, it would be really nice to have some canon acknowledgment of K/S, and I really don’t blame people for acting like that’s what this is. But that really isn’t what this is. And even if there was some kind of love confession, I really hate to break it to you, but the Star Trek novels are just fancy fanfiction and are not considered canon by any stretch (excluding the one Gene wrote himself, which let’s face it, perhaps has the most K/S elements of all).

If you are looking for a nice story about Kirk and Spock being in love, then I very much urge you to look at Ao3 or similar sites. Skip this, if you want a K/S story, because that’s not what this is. Now, if you’re a huge fan of the Romulan commander from the Enterprise Incident, then my GOD you have to read this. I think this was a pretty solid Trek book. It was no piece of literary genius, but it got the job done. There was a lot of it that I think could have been left out, because it the later half it started to drag horribly, and we got a few plot threads that went absolutely nowhere. I’m not sure I’m much of a fan of alternate universes, as I really really enjoy the established dynamic of the characters, but it didn’t bother me too much. But I mean hey man, there was defiantly parts where I was so invested I couldn’t put the book down. Give this one a read if you’re looking for a pretty interesting Trek book with a little bit of cheeky K/S sprinkled here and there.

If you have given the book a read, or just have thoughts in general, I’d love to hear them!

#here it is people #as always sorry for any grammer or spelling mistakes #i know there are prone to be some so just uhhhhh #ignore it if you can #star trek #killing time #kirk #james t kirk #spock #kirk/spock #k/s #spirk #the original series

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