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steveisagay · 2 years

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American Pie

Steve Harrington X Male Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

I have been in a writing slump and I was listening to American Pie on the way home so this is based on the lyrics "And I know that you're in love with him/cause I saw you dancing in the gym"

Fluff, slight angst, Steve's internal homophobia, usage of the f slur, Steve's also hung up on Nancy a bit. Please tell me if you want a part two in my requests!

Steve and Y/N weren’t always friends, or, whatever they are now. It all started a little after him and Nancy ended things. Him and Y/N had science together that year and had been paired for a project. Something about the other guy sitting on his couch with a pencil eraser in between his lips. They ordered a pizza but Y/N had to leave early and didn’t get a chance to eat dinner. For some reason he couldn’t understand he didn’t want him to leave, at least not this early. He wasn’t sure if it was because he seemed so nice, or if it was that Nancy seemed to leave him and move on so quickly. The next day Steve invited him over to watch a new movie he got his hands on. He warmed up the pizza in the oven and got out a few blankets from one of the closets. The two started talking midway into the movie and got to know each other. When the movie was over Steve drove him back to his home and Y/N laid in his bed wondering if Steve thought that they were friends, if he might even feel a little bit more?

A year or so later Y/N asked Steve to pick him up when Hellfire was done he was surprised. He didn’t even think he was anywhere close to Eddie, and suddenly he was in the same club as the freak? But he reluctantly agreed, watching just a few hours later as he gave Eddie one of his warm, bright smiles. Steve hated it, gripping at his steering wheel as you hugged him and waved as you walked away. Steve didn’t know why seeing you hug the freak made him feel this way, were you gay? He wasn’t homophobic, was he? He was supportive when Robin came out, plus guys hug other guys all the time so it was normal. Was he clingy? But he drove him home without saying anything about the complicated feelings that thrashed around in his head.

“Hey Robin?” He called from the other edge of the counter.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m homophobic…”

“I-” She gave him a quizzical look, “I don’t know what to do with that”

“I think I’m homophobic, Robin!” He seemed frantic.

“Yeah, I heard you, but why?”

“Because of Y/N! He was hugging Eddie and I hated it! I don’t even know if he’s gay and I hate it, what if he is gay! What then, Rob?”

“First of all, you look like you’re a mess, second, I really don’t think you’re homophobic.” She gave a slight pause, “Is there any other reason why you think you’re homophobic?”

“Yeah. Whenever he’s around I get this weird feeling and it’s so overwhelming.”

“Mhm, yeah. You’re totally homophobic.”

“What?!”

“I’m kidding, dingus calm down. Do you think that you could just be jealous?”

“Jealous? Of what? Eddie?”

“Yeah, do you think that maybe with Nancy dumping you you’ve focused your feelings on him instead?”

“No, I don’t like guys, at least I don’t think I do.”

“If you say so,” She trailed off, grabbing a box of VHS tapes to stock.

Deep in the night Steve sat on his bed, towel drying his hair pondering what Robin had said to him earlier. He can’t be gay, he’s a Harrington. If his dad knew he’d kill him, probably. And there’s no way he could like someone when he wasn’t even over Nancy yet. He could barely sleep that night, worrying about every what-if he thought of. He didn’t want to be gay, being gay was always something negative and he couldn’t afford to put that title on his family name. What if he got kicked out, he was already off of his father’s income. What if he got beaten for being a faggot, he knew that if he got beaten as bad as the russian incident he’d have way more permanent damage than before. These thoughts kept him up way longer than he could’ve hoped.

The next day, a while before Steve got off his shift at work the phone started to ring. It’s not like it wasn’t a daily occurrence, people called all the time to check what movies were in and such. But when he picked up he heard the sound of Y/N's voice. It was nice to hear.

“Hello, this is Family Video.” He answered in an automatic tone.

“Hey Steve!” Y/N answered rather cheerfully, “Can I ask you a favor?”

His response was almost immediate, “Yeah, anything,”

“Okay so my car broke down on the way home yesterday and since there’s Hellfire today I wouldn’t get home until it was already dark so…” Y/N seemed to hesitate on asking him, but it almost seemed like he felt guilty about it.

“I can drive you home, that’s fine.” He seemed to light up, he wanted to see him so badly, but just as friends, right?

With a quick thank you the other male hung up. It seemed like hours before Steve had to pick him up. After the rather short drive he waited for a few minutes in the parking lot, then he got bored. He said it would be done by now, what was keeping him? He wouldn’t lie to him would he? No, of course not, he wouldn’t lie to him about something so stupid. Maybe it just went a little bit late. After a while he couldn’t sit in his car any longer. He takes quick strides into his former highschool to find his friend. Making his way down the quiet halls he hears a bit of laughter coming from the gym. It reminded him of the basketball team. He went closer when he recognized Y/N’s voice. The doors weren’t open so he pushed them slightly. Seeing Y/N made him smile a bit, but his mood immediately dropped. He was smiling, laughing, the joy evident on his face made him ache in a way that was bittersweet. But the pang of jealousy hit harder than any happiness Steve could feel for him. He wasn’t mad at him for being happy, he was just mad at the fact he was dancing with Eddie Munson. Sure the two were friends, but it didn’t sit well with him. He turned to leave when he heard Y/N yell out his name. Guess he couldn’t get out of driving him home.

#steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve x male reader #steve harrington #steddie x reader #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington stranger things #platonic stobin #stranger things #gay

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marcspectorstannie · 5 months

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⁂Meet the parents⁂(Steven grant x f!AA! reader)

Summary: reader takes Steven to finally meet her parents for dinner and has to prepare him for what her family is like

Warnings: slightly cursing most likely, a little angst if u squint, black trauma

A/n: this is intended to be a female/feminine and African American reader so just a heads up! I've been thinking about writing smth like this for a while now

A/n2: this is honestly so fuckn long and I'm so sorry LOL

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"Now I have to warn you, my family is a bit...much." You both sat in the car in front of your parents house. The car was turned off so you were both is a weirdly comfortable silence. As much as you loved your family it was always rough bringing people to meet them as they always scared them away by being too loud or gossiping a bit too much. But Steven insisted on meeting them, even after your constant warnings.

"Your family can't possibly be that bad, love. I think you're just being a bit of a scaredy cat." Steven raised his eyebrows at you and tapped your nose playfully. You rolled your eyes and smiled a bit. He never met your family personally, he just knew the little stories that you would tell him that you remembered from your childhood. You closed your eyes and sighed softly "I'm not scared I have nothing to be scared of. It's just..." it was hard to tell him straight up that black families are a lot different from other families "they have their many differences to say the least, and I'm not even sure if it's just my mom and dad there or if they invited my cousi-." Cutting you off, your phone rang violently. It was your mother. Hesitantly you picked it up and placed it on speaker.

"When you gon' get here? This food gon get cold now." Your mother questioned, the pots and pans clattering in the background. "We're actually just looking for parking mama, we'll be there soon don't worry." You looked over at Steven with a nervous expression. "Aight now don't be making me wait for you and you bringing company ova to my damn house.. " You rolled your eyes at your mother's comment. "I'm not mama, I'll see you in a few." And before you could say anything else she had hung up. You sighed loudly once again and placed your head on the steering wheel. "I guess we shouldn't keep her waiting, might ring you again." Steven said softly. "Don't worry, this night will so swimmingly. " You smiled at his vocabulary and opened your car door. "Let's get this over with."

Soon enough you were knocking on the front door. Your mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts of what could happen throughout the night. "And when you're speaking to any adult just say yes or no sir or ma'am, you will quickly be called disrespectful. " You rushed out any last warnings to Steven at the door. Surprisingly he was the more calm one for once. "Breathe. I've got it. Besides,im always respectful." Just after he finished the door swung open and you both were greeted by your mother, wearing her good blouse and church shoes. "There's my baby! Come in, both of ya! " Your mother let you in and closed the door behind you. The house was exactly how it was after you moved out. That yellow-orange tint to the lighting and brown cabinets and floors. The scent of homemade food traveled through the whole house.

"Ray! Get in here, your daughter and her lil friend are here!" You'd forgotten what her yelling sounded like after so many years. She knew Steven was your boyfriend but still denys it, especially your father. You watched your father hobble into the living room with his patterned button up shirt and glistening bald head. "Though you had forgot about us, so busy thinking you grown and allat." You smiled and shook your head. You looked over at Steven at seen him picking his nails and examining the old house."Mama, dad. This is Steven." He finally looked at your parents after hearing his name and gave a small smile, sticking out his hand for them to shake. "Happy to finally meet you both,I've heard so many nice things about you." Your mom chuckled and shook his hand "Good things huh? Back then we were such awful parents to her apparently, couldn't wait to get out and live her own grown ass life." You smiled out of embarrassment "Mama I never said that at all." She put a hand on your back "Come, let's get to what y'all really came for, that good food. "

After a while of getting settled and your mom blurtting out your business to everyone, you all finally sat down in the to eat in living room. You had a kitchen and dining room, of course, but your mother would have lost her head if anyone got food in the dining room. Steven had helped your mother pass out the plates as you stayed and talked with your father on the couch.

"So tell us a lil bit about yo self, Steven. What's yo last name?" He felt his face get warm from embarrassment, "Grant, miss." Your mother turned to you with an eyebrow raise, "think you got a cousin with that name, think they up there with the Lord now though." Your eyes widened as she continued to eat as if nothing happened. "So what do you do for work, son? " Your father finally chimed in to speak after almost eating half his plate. You looked at Steven as he looked at you as well. You knew how this was going to end. "I used to work at a gift shop at a museum but I got um, fired.Sir." You saw him look down at his plate and tried to eat to distract himself from your parents reactions. "Don't be letting him use you for yo money, girl. Don't be hangin' 'round no bums." "He is not a bum, mama! How and why would you even say that?" You quickly shut down your mothers disrespectful comments. "Don't be getting smart with me girl! I can still whoop yo ass at yo grown age, don't phase me none." Your father placed a hand on your mothers shoulder, "Not in front of company, Jeanine." "I don't give a damn, Ray. I don't want my daughter with a bum. Ian saying that he is, I'm just lettin' her know to remember that."

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your anger and you look over at Steven. He had his chin almost to his chest as he picked at his plate of food to distract himself from the argument happening in front of him. You grabbed his hand from under the table, causing him to pick his head up. "Wanna head out?" You whispered to him. He hesitated before he shook his head no,"I can handle it.." You pressed your lips together and squeezed his hand tightly. "Ok mama, I get it. Can we at least try and act presentable?" She shrugged and continued eating her food. "You watch football? Basketball? Anything like that?" Your father knew bringing up sports would annoy your mother, but it was better than the constant arguing. "No sir, I'm uh more of a cricket person myself." Steven gave him a small shy smile. "Ahh" he exclaimed "I just noticed you had that lil accent, where you from son?" "England, sir. I moved here about a year or two ago.Been trying to pick up on the american slang, so many different words."

Steven and your father talked for a few while you and your mother sat in silence. You didn't wanna say anything, the slightest thing said to you by her would be considered disrespectful and get the black slapped off you. She was silent until she suddenly let out a weird comment. "You know them British didn't like us black folks, we was slaves to them back in the day." Your eyes widened as she continued to talk "Had to follow what they said. Yo great grandmother was a slave to those British people until she was finally a free woman and had yo grandma, may her soul rest in peace." She drew the cross across her chest and pointed towards the sky. Your face was so scrunched up you almost couldn't see. Why would she bring that up, especially in front of company? It was like she wanted to embarrass you. Ever since Steven said he got fired your mother has been slick with her comments and disrespectful remarks. And of course, your father fails to do anything. You had to go home.

"You know what, it's actually getting pretty late. Think we should start heading out, he's got that job interview tomorrow." That last part was a lie, but you know your parents believed it. You just wanted to get out of there. "Lemme wrap that food up for y'all then, bring me yo' plates." Your father grabbed the plates and headed into the kitchen. Your mother didn't do anything but continue eating, not looking up once. It was like the memories from your childhood started to flood back to you just standing there. Steven took the 2 plates that your father had placed in a bag and shook his hand "Pleasure meeting you both, sir. Have a wonderful evening." Your father smiled and went to hug you. "Bye baby, sorry about your mother." You gave a fake smile to him and hugged him back before finally walking out the door. You didn't say anything until you finally got into the car and put your hands in your head.

"I'm sorry, love." Steven said quietly, placing the food on the floor of the car. "I should have insisted on meeting your family so much,this would have never happened." You felt your eyes began to sting as you quickly blinked them away. You removed your hands and shook your head, "Just wish she would change.Nothing changed since I left." You grabbed your keys and started the car before finally driving home in silence, thinking about your mother.

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#marvel #moon knight headcanon #moon knight #steven grant #moon knight x reader #steven grant headcanon #moonknight #moon knight comics #marc spector #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #black reader

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ohsohoney · 14 hours

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When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Ten

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Later than usual, sorry! But I've been busy with a whole load of shit ngl, it's just been stress:) Let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist though, I realise my updating is a bit sporadic? Maybe? Just a little? Lmao, anyway here's 10, hope you enjoy!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

Jacket potatoes were a fucking delicacy.

Any Brit back home would tell you that. You could top ‘em with all sorts; Chilli, Tuna, Cheese, Chicken, Stuffing, Coleslaw, Bacon, Gravy, Bolognese— some people even liked them plain. But my favourite, as well as the only real and true way to serve a jacket potato, was with an ungodly amount of butter and baked beans.

Being in the States, it was a rather hard dish to come by. But, seeing as Marshall always appeared to go above and beyond, beans (No, none of that shoddy American shit) could be found in the little basket he’d gone and gifted me the day before. A little wicker bowl full of goodies to soothe that little ache of homesickness.

I smacked the can down onto the countertop and levelled Rosie with a long stare.

“You’re serious?” She asked me around a wary glance, extending her arm out cautiously to get a better look at the bright blue tin as though she thought the contents might just reach out to try and grab her back.

“Deadly.” I remarked, attempting to keep my smile hidden when I met her question with a raised brow, “You’ll love it.”

Rosie didn’t look too convinced about that fact and yet, she rolled up her sleeves and took a seat at the counter to watch me work, helping out with the few things that she could.

She had waltzed in through the front door a while earlier, just a second after I’d made it up the stairs, and the grin she’d worn when she had spotted me had had my heart warming and the pair of us wandering into the kitchen, arm in arm and already talking at a mile an hour.

I was sauteing some mushrooms in a pan after having peeled and diced them up, whilst she kept a keen eye on the warming potatoes. “So Dad’s finally found some inspiration then?” Rosie asked me after a while, peering into the oven.

I smiled when I peered over at her, seeing how the orange glow of it washed over the side of her face to softly illuminate her features. “Seems so, we got a lot done but he was on a roll by the end of it.” I told her in reply, shaking the pan again and blinking at the sizzle that sparked up, “What do you mean anyway? Finally.” I dragged out that last word in a small singsong which made her chuckle as she stood to her full height once more and turned.

“He’s been trying to write for a couple weeks now, I think. Or months.” She shrugged, stepping back to watch the mushrooms fry with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Not sure, but he keeps complaining about it whenever he’s on the phone.”

With a small hum, my eyes flickered back over to her, then to the pan again, “He didn’t mention it.”

Rosie blew out a faint chuckle and leant back against the counter, knuckles wrapping around its edge, “Why would he? He hates jinxing himself.”

It was cute that she noticed things like that about him, something I’d begun to note in the short time I’d been staying with the two, but I didn’t know... A large part of me wished that Marshall would have said something about it before, or at least alluded to it. It made me feel a bit bad for bowing out so early now.

Still, my mind was quickly recaptured by the task at hand and then the story that Z deemed to tell me about, apparently a teacher thought that one of her friends was a shoo in for these auditions that they had coming up soon. The familiarity of the scene made me think back to Lottie, to everything that was happening back home, and I wished, silently and not for the first time, that it could be possible for a person to exist in two places at once.

The spuds took their time baking but soon enough they were ready and piping hot, fluffy on the inside and with a crisp exterior. Rosie gathered up the butter and cheese at my signal, face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drown her own in the latter, whilst I pinched the tops of the spuds with a clean tea towel and plated them up, spattering them with a small amount of herbs.

I was going to keep Marshall’s wrapped up in tinfoil, if only to save it from going all horrible before he had the chance to try such a delicacy, but thankfully he’d worked his way back up the stairs just in time. I wondered how he’d managed it.

“Hey, you’ve got table duty.” Rosie exclaimed as soon as she saw him bustling over the threshold, handing the cutlery she was already holding to him without a second thought, which caused Em to blink down at his hands whilst he struggled not to drop the sudden weight he'd just been shafted with.

“‘Scuse me?” Marshall prompted, brow furrowed as his gaze wandered about the rest of the kitchen. I wondered what he thought of the bubbling pot of red sauce sitting on the hob, as well as the absurd amount of butter both Rosie and I had already lumped onto our steaming plates.

“You can set the table, Dad.” Z explained as she jumped back to help me with the mushrooms, her voice edging the line of a whining lilt, “We cooked! So it’s only fair.”

Marshall stared at her for a second longer before he ultimately snorted, “Right.” He murmured, recapturing his hold on the silver he held and eyes finding mine, before he spun round on his heel and left the room once again with a small smirk. When he returned, his plate was almost ready and just about to be loaded up with– “The hell’s that?”

I withheld my snarky reply in favour of smirking when Rosie answered for me, her eyes widening in the face of her father’s obvious leery expression. “Beans, Dad. El told me it’s one of her favourite meals, she wanted to share it with us.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the undertone there, the kind that told him to keep quiet on how he felt about the bubbling bowl I was currently holding because Z obviously didn’t want me feeling disheartened in any way. It was adorable, as was the stern face she’d paired with it, the same face that her dad found hard to waver against. His shoulders slumped ever so.

“Right.” He repeated for the second time tonight, dragging the first syllable out a tad, “Looks good?” He tried.

I had to laugh then, “That a question or statement, Mathers?”

His eyes flickered over to meet mine, but I motioned for Rosie to get a start on heaping the cheese we’d grated onto her plate, the girl’s responding grin was giant.

“I–” Em appeared stumped for a split second before he eventually just pressed his lips together and decided to jump in on helping us. Although he did complain when he spotted the frying pan sat off to the side, “Mushrooms too?” But with Rosie’s short warning of Dad, Marshall only appeared to raise his hands in mock surrender and then moved over to grab the plates so that he could carry them off into the next room.

I shared a conspiratorial smile with the younger girl before we followed after him, the three of us settling into the same seats as we had occupied the day before. Marshall still looked wary, even with his beans being hidden beneath a thick layer of cheese that I figured he had reasoned to himself would mask whatever taste was under it, but Z, to my utter surprise, looked ready to dig in.

“Changed your tune there, lovely.” I mentioned with a sly smirk, my gaze lingering on her long enough to catch the sheepish reaction she bore before she just shrugged and dipped her head around a grin, fork already in hand.

“Smells good.” Was the excuse she used and so I softened my face into a smile too.

“Well you helped so of course it does,” I quipped easily, picking up my fork as well before nudging Em’s forearm, “Come on, you big baby. Just try it. If you hate it, I’ll order you whatever you want. On me.”

That had him rolling his eyes, but he picked up his knife and fork with a determined expression.

I bit back a round of chuckles I could feel bubbling in my throat and used my chin to getsure for the pair of them to get stuck in. Rosie was quick to tear into hers and I was silently thankful for the way the potato easily broke apart under her knife, its texture fluffy and golden.

“Oh wow, this is so good.” She blew out the second that she could, already moving onto her next bite whilst Marshall was still working his way up to trying his own. “When you first showed me those beans? I was so sure I was gonna puke.”

I snorted quietly at that image, perfectly content with the plate of home I’d gone and conjured up for us, whilst Em’s face wrinkled. “Well if you had hated it, you’d have only had your Dad to blame, he’s the one who bought them.”

“I jus’ looked up British shit, they were top five on every list.” Marshall defended before he finally took a bite, slow in the way he raised his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows raising a little as he let the taste settle in, “Shit.”

My eyes narrowed a tad around the smile that I was chewing on to keep hidden but I watched him cut further into the potato, beans and melted cheese puddling around the sides. “That a good shit or bad shit?”

“Three dollars.” Z acknowledged, voice muffled by the food she still had in her mouth.

I laughed at that and shook my head in fond amusement before I turned to Em for an answer. He took another bite, a big one, something I took to be a good sign, and just nodded. My brow quirked in hope. “So good?”

He hummed, one shoulder shrugging, “Ain’t gone die if I finish it.”

Snorting, I could only shake my head at him, hiding my smile behind my fist. “Idiot. You like it.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though the gesture was obviously fond as he raised his fork to point at me, “Just grateful you didn’t burn down my damn house.”

Rosie’s giggles filled the room and with them we all settled in to enjoy. Marshall asked after his daughter’s day and the girl was all too happy to ramble and rant to him, face lighting up at the prospect of it. She mentioned her English lesson, the book they had started on and how her teacher had explained this one paragraph to her class, then she went into detail about the play that was set to happen just before the Christmas break. I chimed in here and there, putting in my two cents where it was worth, but in truth, I was perfectly content to simply listen and watch on.

The clean up that followed was mainly made up of me and Z messing around and singing to the music Em had stuck on, never the type to linger in silence. The pair of us did manage to rope the man into joining us once he had loaded up the dishwasher though, something he thoroughly complained about but followed through on all the same. He was just a sucker for his kid's smile, I reckoned, went above and beyond for the girl and it was all too easy to see.

It was a lot later that we all fell into a comfortable silence around the tele, Rosie sat crossed legged on the sofa with her homework whilst I offered help whenever asked. Marshall had joined the two of us a little later, after his phone had rang and he’d stepped out to take the call, he’d padded into the room with only the explanation of ‘Royce’ before he’d fallen into the seat beside me. I’d hummed but was too distracted by Rosie’s newest question to prod him further on it.

By the time she had finished up, handwriting practically perfect, her books had fallen into a heap on the coffee table and she’d slowly but surely scootched her way further up the sofa. I kept my eyes on the tele when I’d outstretched an arm in quiet invitation but hadn’t missed the grin she’d given in turn before she’d settled into my side, head coming to rest on my thigh. I caught Marshall’s watchful stare from out of the corner of my eye but didn’t glance back over, smiling at the scene that played out on the screen whilst my hand smoothed over the girl’s hair.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between us before Marshall’s quiet cough broke the peace we’d since created, but the sky was more of a hazy cast of dark blue now rather than the ruddy auburn that had lined it much earlier. I stifled a small yawn.

Rosie sniffed softly in my lap, twisting a tad to cast her Dad a quizzical glance. Throughout the duration of the film that Z had picked out for us to watch, the man had gotten close enough that he now only had to drop his shoulders to poke at her cheek.

“Bath and bed, kid.”

The scrunch that overwhelmed Rosie’s face at the order had me grinning and so I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving my hand to pat her shoulder. “Up and at ‘em, soldier. Heard what the old man said.”

“Do I have to?” Z huffed, just as a hand came up to rub at her eye. Marshall’s mouth ticked ever so slightly into an amused smirk, his fingers replacing mine in an effort to smooth the front of her hair.

“School tomorrow.” He reminded her all too gently, dropping his hand lower to shuck the underside of her chin which only made the girl smile sleepily. “You know the deal.”

She sighed heavily in retort, but did eventually make the move to push herself up and out of my lap, legs stretching across the couch cushions before her feet found the floor. It was just as she went to stand that she turned to face me though, her expression a little meek but rapidly losing the residual somnolence it had just held. “Will you do my hair again for me tomorrow?”

I was caught by surprise at the question she’d asked. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t let the reaction show as I smiled warmly back at her, reaching out to tap a finger on the top side of her hand, “‘Course. Anything you want, lovely.”

Rosie’s little grin had her eyes squinting and forced the corners of her mouth to pinch upwards in a move that only deepened her dimples. She leaned over to give me a hug of thanks, whispering the word into my ear before she pulled away and rounded the sofa, kissing her Dad’s cheek on her way out.

“No messin’ about, Z. An early night, ‘kay?” Em reminded her, leaning against the back of the couch so that he could tilt his head far enough to see her, “I’ll be up soon.” He added, his words met by another charming grin whilst she shook her head in fond exasperation and slipped out of the room, leaving just the pair of us and the tv.

It was a long while before Marshall disturbed the quiet once more, the film we’d been watching had finished some time ago and so now all that was playing on the screen was a couple repeats of South Park and the odd advertisement. “She’s different with you.” I heard him voice.

With a furrowed brow, I let my head turn to find him. He was perched in the same position he had been, but now with an arm stretched along the back of the sofa and a knee bent to fill the small gap that still separated us. “What d’you mean?”

When he replied, it was low and soft, a murmur if not for the sincerity behind it. “She don’t act like that ‘round nobody.” He told me, fingers jumping in a steady rhythm on the back of the cushion, his eyes peering between mine. “Me, sure. She’s a fuckin’ koala when she wants to be, but with other people… it’s something she second guesses.”

His words confused me. Or rather, threw me. “I don’t get it.”

He dropped his gaze, blowing out a small but mirthful huff through his nose, his thumb dragged along the edge of the sofa. “You known her what, three days? And she don’t think about gettin’ close to you. Sure she’ll be coy with it, sly even, but that’s ‘cause she don’t wanna overstep with you. Like that right there–” Em said, getsuring his chin out towards my lap, I followed the gesture, then blinked back up at him, remembering the way she’d approached me, “She don't do that with people.”

My face must have given away to the fact that I was still trying to process the weight of what he meant, because his smile was soft, warm even.

It made me think of Lottie, who was always so open with her affection, who gave it out without thought or focus, her smile always great, always there. Then of myself. I tended to avoid affection where it mattered, a reason as to why I’d never let many people too close to my heart, why I hadn’t had something fulfilling to divulge when Marshall and I had spoken about past exes, I supposed. It baffled me to see some of the same tendencies I’d shown growing up in Rosie, in a girl too sweet, too loving, too happy to be so aware of how to guard herself.

I looked to him again and let him have his fill, allowed him to see how his words, the sentiment behind them, had pierced through the armour I’d long since moulded around myself.

One side of his mouth lifted and he used the hand resting on the back of the sofa to circle my wrist, leaning in a little closer, filling that previous gap. “Ro’s had her mom, her sister. They’ve been there. They love her, and she loves them. I know that. But with Kim, it ain’t always parentin’, it’s fun and games. It’s showin’ off, not showin’ up. It’s messin’ around until she finally grows–”

He paused there, eyes flickering left and then right as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, almost as though he was resentful of the term he wished to use.

He settled for, “Bored. Or maybe jus’ tired, you know? She’s there until it's her time to step up and do the job she’s ‘sposed to, til it's missed recitals and forgetting pick-up, that’s when she reacts. Pulls away.”

He sighed, gaze caught on his fingers, on the easy way they engulfed my wrist. His thumb brushed over the freckle that dotted the bone, and continued on through a slow exhale, “Ayla, she’s a lot older. She does her own thing, she’s got school, work, friends. Z obviously filters into all that, but there's always been a small divide. I like to think it’s just ‘cause of their ages– it’s how me and Nate worked growin’ up, you know? But there’s this whole idea that fuckin’ messes with my head, like maybe it's all down to me. Ayla’s my niece, but she’ll always be one of my own. I love that girl as much as I love Rosie. More than life itself. But I know I hurt her, havin’ her here, watchin’ me fail and fuck up whilst she was growin’ up. And jus’, maybe I can’t help but wonder if I ever let her know that enough, that I loved her, if it’s that that’s impacted her relationship with Z.”

I was quick in my attempt to soothe his doubts, the hand he didn’t hold jumping over to lay across the top of his own. “I’d call you an idiot, but I reckon you already know that.” I chuckled halfheartedly, though my smile was genuine when his eyes snapped up to meet my own, “You’re an amazing father, Em. I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And it doesn’t take much to see it either. I mean, I was here not even a day and was so quick to see the love you held for your daughter. I saw it in your reactions too when we called, when you spoke of them, however brief it was. I haven’t met Ayla but I don’t think I’d have to for me to see that your worries are just that, worries. I’m sure that girl loves you in the very same sense that I am sure that she knows you love her. That you see her as much more than just your niece.”

My thumb trailed over the back of his hand, skimming knuckles, taking in their slight discoloration, the faint white lines that could have only been age old scars. I dipped my head a tad so that my gaze could align with his shadowed blues, prompting him into lifting his eyes from off the floor.

“I’m also honoured that you think Rosie’s comfortable enough around me to mention the gravity behind it, that you’d trust me with her company, let alone her affection.” I said sweetly, gifting him another smile, it was close lipped but one that appled my cheeks. His stare caught onto it, fingers tightening around my wrist by a fraction in a squeeze that showed only his appreciation. So I squeezed back, fingers fastening over the top of his fist. “Z’s hard not to love, she’s all of your best parts and more. Sometimes…”

I took a small breath, fretful over saying what I had intended to until Marshall met my flickering gaze once more, silently prompting me on. I swallowed thickly, feeling the force of it travel through my throat, but did follow through, “Sometimes it’s just hard raising kids, I guess not everyone’s made out for the harsher reality of it all. Of having to be a parent and not a friend. I mean, it was forced on me in a way, I’ve been raising my siblings since Danny the day came along, since before I knew what being a mum meant. What one was.” The weight of that admission had me reeling for a split second, at the truth it held. But I pursed my lips before allowing my eyes to find Marshall’s once more, “Kim, I’m sure she tries, I’m sure it’s more than my mum ever did, ever could do, but it’s okay for you to fear that it’s not enough for Z, too.”

Marshall worked his jaw, blinking for a second before he eventually spoke, voice rasping with the emotion he felt. “Kid deserves the world.”

I found myself grinning at that, the teary kind which glossed over your eyes but was strong enough that you couldn’t prevent the fluid motion of it. It was without thought that my arms came up to wind their way around his neck and I relaxed further in the gesture when I eventually felt his face come to rest against my shoulder.

“She does.” I murmured, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers resting over the fine hair which lined his nape. “She does.” I heard myself repeat again as my eyes slipped closed.

When we parted, I watched as Em knuckled the corner of his eye, grunting faintly to clear his throat and rid the room of any tension that then clouded us. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but did look away towards the tele when he started to shift once more, giving him a sense of security that he hadn’t been caught out, that I wouldn’t dig too deeply into his reaction.

“Thanks.” He murmured after a stunted moment and it was only then that I glanced back over to him. I smiled in turn.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

When we parted ways for the night, I chose to head on up to bed, mind so full of thoughts that I found it hard to latch onto a singular one, whilst Marshall stopped at the bottom of the staircase to gift me a quiet goodnight, eyes caught on the reflection of moonlight that crept its way across my cheek, the sight mirrored on his own face.

I didn’t know it then but I would eventually, he’d never felt so inspired.

So as I’d slipped beneath my duvet, my mind stuck on the words we’d shared, Marshall was back down in the studio, writing away once more. But this time, it was for a completely different reason.

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waitmyturtles · 11 months

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Your post about your upcoming Bad Buddy meta got me thinking about Bad Buddy (again), and I remembered one particular thing that had an impact. Apologies if this is long and rather incoherent, I wrote this past midnight.

In the final episode, the part where we see Ming and Dissaya turn a blind eye to Pat Pran's shenanigans really struck a chord with me.

[I'm an Indian, born and raised, and queer, but it's well worth mentioning that my experiences are not universal- in fact, they may be the exception rather than the rule; I'm not quite sure.]

What it reminded me of was, that asian parents tend to come around eventually- in particular mothers. We've seen time and time again in series' that deal with difficult/not accepting family members; Bad Buddy, GAP, Wedding Plan, maybe even Double Savage (haven't watched this one but I believe the dad feels bad in the end?), that even if the parental figure(s) doesn't agree with their children's choices, they learn to compromise. Because the difference in opinions isn't worth losing their children over. Obviously, for every parental figure that comes around there's one that the children cut ties with (Wedding Plan remains a good example), but I think it's something worth seeing.

It made me think of how I was never scared of coming out to my mother, because I knew that, despite the difference in views, and her prejudice, she'd accept me, no matter whether she thought it was a phase or not.

Do I know what the point of this ask is? Not really, I was rather nervous sending this ask, especially not on anon, but I'd love to know what you think of this, since I've come to really enjoy reading the thoughts you have on these shows.

Ohhhh, wow. @starryalpacasstuff, come 'ere for a big mom hug! HUGE HUGS!

I'm gonna unwind a little randomly; I hope this is coherent. A ton of what I write about on my blog vis à vis Asian dramas are the unique characteristics of Asian families and an Asian upbringing. Parental conditional love, competitiveness, our unique experiences with intergenerational trauma. I write a lot about how Asians, in our cultural expectations of life, accept pain and suffering as an assumed part of our existences. The reason why I watch Asian dramas exclusively is that, as I'm Asian-American, I just connect far more easily to the Asian cultural experience of growing from a child into an Asian adult, than I do the experience of white Western folks growing into their adulthood. I grew up intimately with Asian cultural practices and expectations; but I also grew up with racism in my external American world, and came to my adulthood in a society that still values white Americans above all other demographics.

But one thing I'm cognizant of, that I don't think I write about enough, is that many of these characteristics of the Asian cultural scopes of life are indeed similar to those that a fully American person (for example) might experience. It's not like intergenerational trauma doesn't exist in the West. It's not like homophobia in families against a child doesn't exist in the West.

However. As an Asian-American, one thing I note about many (not all, of course) Western families and family systems is that very often: Western adults will give up their agency to be loyal to what I might call a "higher power" -- a philosophy, a political preference, a religion. If a queer person wants to come out in a conservative American family, that queer person may very well be risking cutting permanent ties with their family.

That, of course, also happens in our Asian family systems. But I think you're onto something, @starryalpacasstuff. While divorce rates are sky-high in the West -- there is also a paradigm of family systems being and looking different in the West than they do in Asia. Asian family systems still don't accommodate for divorce and blended or chosen families as they do in the West.

The Asian family systems and paradigms that you and I grew up with as Indians absolutely still value a heterosexual two-parent household -- and I'd posit that our past generations, our grandparents and great-grandparents, put HUGE, HUGE pressure on our parents to keep the two-parent family systems together and whole. And to keep the children close. It's a huge value in our Asian cultures to have whole and complete families. The West has become far more accommodating, culturally, on this issue.

And, so. I totally agree with you, @starryalpacasstuff. I think we do see the beginning of a coming-around on the parts of Ming and Dissaya. And that coming-around is certainly something we can relate to. Our parents will likely accept us for our differences. I fucked a lot of shit up with my folks when I decided to live independently of their desires -- and I don't think things really healed (and I still carry tremendous traumatic baggage) until after I had my own kids, and expanded all of our families. Because in the end, the value in our Asian cultures is that keeping the family complete and close still matters more than any one's individual biases or desires.

Ming and Dissaya are remarkably traumatized people. Ming was traumatized by the expectations of his father. He screwed Dissaya over, and literally handed his trauma to Pat on a silver platter, for Pat to embody for most of his life. And Pat flipped that platter over in his father's face and ran away. Ming, at the end of the series, is passive-aggressive with Pat, despite Pat's efforts to try to work with him. And yet -- Ming still sips Pran's scotch.

To your point -- does time heal everything? I'm not so sure in the West, with the Western predilection for Christian/Puritanical/conservative values to supersede reasonable family resolutions. But I think, because of the value that Asian systems put on having complete families, that you are right -- that there may be more room in Asian family systems for eventual acceptance of a child's "differences," despite us living in collectivist societies. This is definitely not an absolute. There are environments in which it's still dangerous to come out. But the value that Asians put on family does indeed give us a tiny bit of comfort that our cultures can move the needle on acceptance in different ways over time.

#thank you for the ask!#the father in double savage does indeed come around #there's so much to think about here #and it's hard to talk in generalities #but i really think it's important that asian dramas about queer experiences show all facets of acceptance and rejection by asian parents #like i appreciated seeing the discriminating father in i feel you linger in the air #because back in that time discrimination was far more common #i think acceptance is growing and growing across asia #we still have conservative asian societies #but as our parents become more familiar with minority demographics #and as WE have our children and teach them about equity #over time #certainly the needle of acceptance will be moved #asian family systems #asian family systems in BLs #asian family systems in QLs #bad buddy #bad buddy meta #bad buddy the series #bad buddy the series meta

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flowerandthesongstress · 22 days

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Hi I'm dropping by to share an opinion that might be controversial, but might just as well be common and widespread among the 'loved this show as a child, rewatched as an adult' crowd. I'm not sure. I'm always out of the loop. All of the loops.

Anyway.

Recently I'd learned that my SO never watched the X-Files, the show that was my favorite when growing up (yes, I should not have been watching it, but oh well...frankly, I had much worse sources of childhood trauma in my life) and we decided to amend the fact.

Over the course of a few months, we went through approximately 85 to 90% of the episodes. We skipped a few insignificant ones. With insects.

Some short remarks first. One: all of my favorite episodes still hold up and some go twice as hard and Clyde Bruckman goes ten times as hard. Two: Mark Snow might have been in an abusive and mutually codependent relationship with an oboe. Three: "Everything Was Inspired By The X-Files" seriously, so much media in the last two decades has just been 'a person who watched the x-files when growing up is now writing stuff' and I'm not immune ... Four: this video essay that I found after we'd gotten to 'JS's from OS' and I was like "waaaaait I minute, this is... postpomo? in 1996? released around the time Infinite Jest was published? when metamodernism still was little more than a concept in DFW's head? what the heck?" and looked it up to see if my brain was wishful-hallucinating, and found this video essay. Five: when watching the show for the first time, I only knew three names: Anderson, Duchovny, Carter. Like, 'Hello yes this a cool scary TV program with The Anderson and The Duchovny as my Mom and Dad, and all of this show in its entirety is made by The Carter'. That was it. Because only those three names were translated in the credits.

And now I'm going to ask you to please don't kill me. Please. I'm going to die, I promise, I just don't want to be killed right now because of a possibly controversial X-files opinion. This is just a personal opinion. You are free to not share it, you are free to hate me, but could we please avoid conflict and arguments? I love you. I was drugged.

Anyway x 2.

Here's the most important thing I realized now that I'd rewatched the show in English as an adult who'd loved the X-Files as a minor (and watched it dubbed), and then went on to receive a university education that very specifically gives her a shmauthority to determine if a writer is actually a crap writer...

...Chris Carter is actually a crap writer.

He's uuuhm. He's bad at writing. Wait, no, that's unfair. He is what I like to call 'painfully mediocre'. Slightly paraphrasing a quote from my other favorite American show: he's every kid on the playground that didn't get picked on. He's a business casual potted plant, a human white sale. He's VH1, Robocop 2, and Back to the Future 3. He's the center slice of a square cheese pizza. Actually, that sounds delicious. Vince Gilligan is the center slice of a square cheese pizza. He's Jim Belushi.

He's just so. painfully. mediocre as a writer. Some of his choices were BAFFLING. Not just bafflingly bad, but simply baffling in a 'how and why and why would anyone ever think this is a compelling idea' sense. Some moments made me wonder if there's zero self-awareness or minus self-awareness.

Chris Carter would hardly make you mad with how bad he is. He's seldom bad in a memorable way. He was cliche when those cliches weren't yet cliches. When the TV tropes website didn't exist. When metamodernism still was little more than a concept in one bandana-covered, troubled head.

He attempted three other shows. All of them were canceled. Two of them he had to wrap up in the X-Files, and he wrapped them up with as much poise as I wrap burritos when high. One was canceled before airing, but he put a piece of it into an X-Files episode: a minor character in the cold open watches and praises this show, so enraptured that he doesn't hear his daughter being kidnapped by a serial killer or abducted by aliens or neither or both, tbh I'm still not 100% sure what happened and what didn't happen, because that episode was written by Chris Carter. The highest rated episode out of all the episodes in all of the three canceled shows has Darin Morgan's writing credit, and it's a sequel of an X-Files episode. Where Jose Chung just goes 'you know what? this sucks' and dies.

Yes, I did enjoy The Lone Gunmen, but guess who has the most writing credit? Yes, Vince Gilligan. Perhaps, executives didn't really understand and didn't bother looking into why X-Files was such a popular and beloved show? And kept on greenlighting Carter's pet projects and then going: Wait, Where Money? Probably. That's how I imagine the reason. Thing is, the X-Files was so beloved and popular not because of Carter's obsession with Christian symbolism and conspiracies and apocalypse and ambiguity so vague and lazy and full of itself that I felt vicarious embarrassment, not because of his narcissism God complex that is manifested on screen in such a way that watching it feels exactly and very specifically like grinding your teeth while there's a bit of slightly wet sand on them, and not because people ached to learn how aliens would colonize Earth. Characters. We loved the characters. We loved the relationships in the show. And we loved the CRAZY and the over-the-top. And all of the Human, all the Silly, and the Funny, and the Tragically Funny.

Every single episode I remember loving the most, and every single episode that tops every single 'bestest X-Files episodes evah' list, has the writing credit of either Darin Morgan (Humbug, Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose, Jose Chung's From Outer Space, War of the Coprophages), or Vince Gilligan (Soft Light, Pusher, Bad Blood, Small Potatoes, Paper Hearts, Meme— you know what, this is easier), or Glen Morgan + James Wong (Squeeze, The Field Where I Died, Never Again, Musings of the Cigarette-Smoking Man). Not Carter. Although according to a WaPo article I read, Carter was insanely controlling and everything had to go through him. Duh. :-\ Not to mention, his entire writing room was a sausage fest, apparently? And Gillian Anderson finally got to write an episode only in season seven, when the show was about to be foreclosed by Fox and turned into a movie franchise (never happened, alas), and around the 'f*ck it who cares anymore we're rich and uncancellable' time when Gilligan was allowed to write the episode where Mulder solved existential nihilism via freeing a genie? Not surprised.

Meanwhile, Carter himself had written the episodes I was looking forward to the least during this rewatch. And my SO would be like: wow, you're rolling your eyes so hard I'm worried about your vision, should we maybe skip this one..? And I'd be like: no-no imma just do some chores, I really wanna do some chores, I'll be nearby, yes please keep on watching babe, no need to pause, I'll keep the bathroom door open to hear everything while I do my favorite very entertaining things like clean the toilet and scrub the shower and wash the litterbox.

Hmmm? What's that? Post-modern Prometheus is highly rated? Hoo boy :-| Can we please not go there... Also, even without all of the problematic aspects of PMP: 1) even a broken clock can do postmodernism is right twice a day, 2) no, it is not a well written episode; it's loved because of its subtly familiar nostalgic visuals and because it attempts to imitate Darin Morgan's signature style with about as much success as I had while trying to imitate Lovecraft when my English was at ~C1 level and then I started crying and went to Postmodernism and told him 'please mister postmodernism sir, please save me by making it all into a long setup to a punchline'.

Anyway x 11:21.

This whole realization made me dislike the Auteur theory even more. My relationship with it was already so hostile that we've been sending each other death threats every month since I was seventeen.

Yes, I should be fair(er). Chris Carter's primary role is NOT that of a writer, but a producer and director and *cringes* shOwRuNnEr. He was the one who pitched the show to Fox, was rejected, and fought for it until they agreed. Without him, the X-Files would not have existed at all. And all bad jokes aside, this show helped me a lot when I had no one and nothing else to help me. I was indeed in a parasocial relationship with its leads. They were my TV parents. Thing is, everything you love about the X-Files' writing... like me, any other casual viewer might discover that all of these things were not done by Carter. Yet he was getting all of the credit.

This is a very important, and seemingly obvious but not really, factoid that applies to a lot of shows and movies. The person you give credit for a thing is often not the person who should be getting it. If you're rolling your eyes right now and calling me agent Obvious: may I remind you, I'm permanently out of the loop about everything. EVERYTHING.

I'm not going to devolve this into a rant about Auteur theory...Because then I'd be here all day or until I start foaming at the mouth. And I'm sure everything has been said without me and before me, anyway. I'm not even going to write a more detailed analysis to defend my views regarding the 'painfully average'. Shmviews.

I've said what I wanted to say.

This rewatch was an interesting experience.

"Skinner wants our report in one hour. What are you going to tell him?" — "What do you mean what am I going to tell him? I'm going to tell him exactly what I saw. What are you going to tell him?" — "I'll tell him exactly what I saw".

#the x files #txf #pretends to be funny #x files #media literacy

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cottoncandywoof · 3 months

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Gimme in writing. Expose yourself

7, 12, 14, 21 for TMNT ask game

7.) Which iteration is your favorite?

ok, so, to preface, i have watched rise, the mutant mayhem movie, 2012, and a bit of 2003 and 1987. this is shameful for me, and im devastated because in comparison 2012 kinda sucks, but i really like it. the thing is, i am thus far liking 03 A LOT, so id be more sure of my answer were it for the fact that 03 is banging with the characterization of their characters. they know who they want them to be. 03 could beat 2012 if i end up liking that raph more

wait hold on i must return and say that mutant mayhem may change the game bc i watched the movie (we watched it twice) and i absolutely loved the characters and splinter and how they interact, but since we havent seen the characters enough, i cant put it on my top. i like all the characters A LOT, but the other iterations do have characters i like disproportionately, ie raph (or 12 casey)

12.) Which version of Donatello is your favorite?

between rise and 12 of course. i like mms kpop ass too but lmao, doesnt crack the top 2.

if i had to choose, i love me an asshole character, and rise donnie really cranks it up a notch, but 12 has such funny comebacks and fucking got me with little robot friend, that perhaps hes a bit more my favourite ? but really close

14.) Which version of Splinter is your favorite?

i think i make fun of sexy splinter too much to say hes my favourite, and while i prefer the hamato yoshi backstory, i think my favourite thus far might be mutant mayhem splinter... hes just so DAD. ill see how 03 goes but hes a close second. and then sexy splinter third bc ugh i cant escape him

21.) What is your favorite story arc?

does my good old american tales of the tmnt count ?

because bebop and rocksteady finale hands down lmaooo. i was asking myself what did i enjoy the MOST ? and that may have been it. it was just so much fun to watch and you could kinda tell they were having fun with season 5. second favourite "arc" if it counts is the 2012 metalhead ending ☹️. third i think shredder arc in rise ? woof !

#idk opinions #idk thoughts #is this real #perhaps #i need to rewatch rise #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2012 #mutant mayhem #ccw rants

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angrypedestrian · 3 months

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It's halfway through the year! Got any favorite albums/books/tv shows/whatever to recommend?

I'm gonna be honest, I feel like I have been VERY behind on reading/watching/listening to ANYTHING this year. I've only gotten through 3 books, and have big to listen to/to watch/to play piles, but! I shall try to find something to rec.

Books/Comics I have only read 3 books this year and I hattteeee it, but at least one of them was Hanif Abdurraqib's A Little Devil In America, which I finally got around to after buying it almost 3 years ago. 1000% must read imo. I'm sitting on his new one that came out a couple months ago, and I AM going to read this year. I AM. Also, I went to go see him speak a few weeks ago and he complimented my Fireworks shirt because he is one of the few people who loves them as much as I do.

I have read a lot of comics this year though! James Tynion's The Deviant is probably the one I would recommend to you most specifically, it is VERY dark, but VERY good. It's still in progress though, but I think should be wrapped up by the end of the year. Also Jeff Lemire's Phantom Road. It's real weird, I dunno what the hell is going on with it, but I'm enjoying the ride so far. Jeff has another book running right now called Fishflies, which is more traditional Lemire, weird and sad and Canadian. Also very good, but Phantom Road is the one I'm currently enjoying more of the two if I had to pick.

TV/Movies I finally got around to watching the first season of The Terror, which I was a FOOL for missing out on when it was first released. What a fucking television program!!! But other than that, I think anything else you might be interested in that I've seen you've already watched lol. I don't know if Julio Torres' work is up your alley, but his new show Fantasmas is fucking great so far. Very in the weirdo vein of Los Espookys, or like, literally anything he has ever created.

In a weird twist I've watched a lot more movies this year than TV, which hasn't happened in perhaps ever? My biggest recommendation will be for The People's Joker, which unfortunately is not available to stream anywhere yet, I don't think, but hopefully should be soon. I also, to very much my own surprise, really enjoyed the Glenn Powell vehicle Hit Man. Richard Linklater I think can be very hit or miss, but this one was fun if bizarre.

Music I've been trying very hard not to get caught up in the FOMO of roughly 40 albums being released a week that I want to listen to. I think I've finally hit a wall of how much new music I can actually sit down and listen to and appreciate in a given week, so this year has been an exercise in letting go of the need to be on top of everything the second that it drops.

There's this band called Super American that I love, and I can't really figure out why? They're a scrappy little pop-rock-ish duo thing, and they can write hooks for days, but it's often mixed with some of the corniest shit I've ever heard. There's one track on their new record (called Gangster of Love, I fucking hate it) that has a part that sounds like a fucking LFO song. It should suck! I don't know why I don't think it sucks! So your mileage may really vary with that one, but I think baseline it's a fun and silly little summer record.

Also, I can't believe I'm saying this, but the new Story So Far album...rules? Truly did not expect it at all. Parker I am so sorry your dad died, but my god you guys wrote some of your best songs out of it. And for a left-er field rec, the new Hurray for the Riff Raff that came out earlier this year is fantastic, a kind of meandering back to some of their original sound, but in such a more realized way than those earlier records. Just a very gentle and beautiful album.

#i feel like my brain has been underwater all this year and the onslaught of stuff to try and stay of top of has been unending

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limerental · 1 year

Text

limerental's themed self-rec lists

read my old fics, you cowards! these are majority witcher fics, because i have an illness.

silly goofy modern au

how long we were fool'd - jaskier/yennefer(&geralt)

married neighbors yennskier, suburban dad!geralt, modern witchers, little kid ciri, aroace geralt, relationship misunderstandings, borzoi roach, supernatural mystery, some canon-typical violence, found family nonsense, and my own clairvoyance in writing yennskier husband-wife but it was spring 2020

(don't) poke the sleeping dragon - jaskier/yennefer/geralt

a retelling of bottled appetites but it's a nerdy fantasy music festival, copious drug use, yennefer's sick wizard van, unicorn edibles, golden dragon dildos, outdoor sex, geralt getting pegged and double penetrated, a dialogue only threesome, accidental yearning old friend geraskier tenderness, and someone once told me they wouldn't read this fic because yen had her tits out in the summary and i will always remember that criticism for the rest of my life

as if you were a mythical thing - yennefer/geralt

old married couple, dom/sub dynamics, sex unicorn mention, geralt is very vanilla but loves his kinky wife, and he's too autistic about horses not to ruin ponyplay with horse facts

this one might hurt

long on the road & how light carries on - geralt/jaskier (eventual geralt/regis in the sequel, plus many platonic relationships)

the 80s trucker/hitchhiker au that got away from me, vietnam vet trucker geralt, aging hippie musician jaskier, AIDS crisis, terminal illnesses, dealing with mortality, falling in love, road tripping, copious american geography, period-typical queer community issues, and then... life after loss, aging, grief and mourning, queer and traumatized family dynamics both found and otherwise, finding love again, and watching the sun set on a life well lived

in dark and twisted braids - fringilla &/ yennefer

aretuza school days slumber parties, girlhood crushes, pining, unrequited love, i shook a sorceress and intergenerational trauma fell out, the inherent adolescent horror of making lasting decisions about your future when you are barely 18 but even worse because there's war and violence and permanent alterations to your body and forced sterilization and your little schoolgirl crush on someone you thought was a friend ends in betrayal and bloodshed and you end up on opposite sides of the war and she never even looked your way or thought about you and--

then send down the storm - aiden/lambert, lambert/geralt(/yennefer)

witcher roadtripping, just guys being dudes, horse stuff, winter at kaer morhen polyamory but different, ~trauma~, the mortifying ordeal of accepting you deserve more from life and also of being known, but it's too late (or is it?), grief and mourning and loss and love that was worth its loss, and also, the character death(s) are largely temporary.

aw that just ain't right :/

the witch in her tower - eskel/yennefer(/geralt)

dark fic, fairytale elements, hurt no comfort (mind the tags), morally dubious heartbroken yennefer, pining and years of yearning for geralt eskel, unrequited love, non-consensual mind control during sex, flashbacks to messed up witcher child abuse and violence and cruelty, the inherent horror of mutated and manipulated little boys becoming men who think they can't or shouldn't love paralleled with the inherent horror of enchanted and manipulated little girls becoming women who-- you get it.

the flesh calmly going cold - geralt/jaskier

this one's gross for real, a hunt gone wrong, hurt NO comfort, major character death and it's gross and tragic, gore, necrophilia, organs lovingly described (and jizzed on), basically it's just like that scene in twn where filavandrel exploded but if francesca humped his goo after. sorry.

blood of the covenant (water of the womb) - geralt/&renfri, geralt/stregobor

supernatural pregnancy body horror as revenge, ......pregobor, black sun princess trauma and curses, apocalyptic monster fetus imagery, it's about women and violence against women and evil men suffering for inflicting that violence mostly, and also the evils of standing by and watching evil happen. also, yes stregobor is magical yucky bella swan pregnant and then bad stuff happens to everybody.

#my fic #self-rec #witcher fic #themed rec lists yay!#the last three have dead dove themes technically but not like. idk i've changed my mind on what constitutes dead dove in this fandom #basically there's gore and body horror and some non-con in the last few #the tone difference from the first to the last is SO funny

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bi-lavelent · 3 months

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Brie Larson x fem-reader part 1

warning: contains mentions to sex and mentions of mental health. Contains mentions to murder and killing. Contains mentions to pedophillia.

Brie will not be in the chapter it is just the start. I hope you enjoy

Chapter 1 Childhood Trauma

"Mothers, everyone has one, Every girl needs them, Every man wants them, Every baby cries for them, Every human praises them." - Y/N Y/L/N

My life starts simple; While At Least I thought. You see the story I was told growing up was. My gorgeous, beautiful, Intelligent Mom met my Handsome, Funny Dad and fell in love. They got married and then they had me. It was the Exact American Dream, It wasn’t Gatsby and Daisy. My Dad and I were best friends. They Made me realize who I would want to marry. We were always going to be that perfect little family. Although that’s where the happiness ends. The rest isn’t good, though how much stuff do you think can happen in 9 months? less than a year you're probably thinking not that much. Well trust me a lot can happen, my mom did everything a person could do to ruin my life before it even started. But for you to be able to know that part of the story you will need to wait till I'm older, like I did.

Born into a Christian and Catholic family, and when I say that I mean it my dad was the youth group pastor and my mom was well she said she was catholic that should have been my first signal. That all being said, I was raised to have pride in my family and to love god. I met my childhood best friend at church. Her name was Ezra Lee. She was named after a colonial Soldier from the 1800s. He was supposedly related to her. The first memory I have is of me and her playing in a sandbox

. . . . .

"Hey, I have to go to the bathroom." I said to my best friend Ezra Lee

"Okay I'll wait here." She said back to me

. . . . .

Looking back at this event makes me look at how simple our lives were, You see we thought that we would always get to have this perfect life and in a way her stayed okay or atleast better than mine. I ran into her a few years ago. She was in New York for New years and she had stopped at an ice cream shop in time square. I'm still not sure if I was happy to see her have the life. We both always dreamed about. We had promised each other that we would set each other on blind dates were we would meet our husbands and we would be the others kids' Aunt. But given that was back when I thought I was gonna marry men we were clearly wrong because now I’m writing this while my wife is sitting on the couch watching a romcom. I guess things never go according to plan anyway. Back to the past I realize How happy we were. How innocent we were. It also makes me question why I didn't realize what was happening around me. It should have been obvious to me but I guess that when you're a kid you're oblivious of what happens around you. I mean it was normal for our parents to leave their kids in their backyard alone at the age four but then again we were kids and this was normal to us. I have very few memories of being a happy child but I do remember this next fairly clearly. Because it has affected the rest of my life. You see in Colorado I was told by my mom that the normal age to lose your Virginity is 6. So the next part isn’t really going to affect a lot of my life but at the same time it has everything to do with the family I’ve built for myself.

At a young age I did not only have feelings for the boys at my school but also the girls being a christian I thought that this was wrong. It might be that as an adult it's still hard to tell what's true and what's not but this one thing as a child had a big influence on my life. I remember being five and dating this girl back then dating was more like being best friends. When you're a kid you make a lot of mistakes; But I never thought that I would make this one. As a Preschooler and Elementary student I was considered a bit of a player, and to be honest my friends and my partner still think I am. I would chase the boys around and tackle them and kiss them I would pay them to date me; and like every player I cheated.I was at five and at spring break camp and went behind this boy that i still had a crush on named Christopher to get a crayon to color with, and I saw an opportunity my mind raced back in forth between his back and my lips, Back, lips, Back, lips. This was my opportunity so i sized the moment and leaned down and kissed him. This was the end of everything.

I was popular or so I though you see I didn’t relize that people only liked me because they were scared of me, not because people liked me.blooming back I would have been scared of me too I was a lost kid who didn’t understand how to deal with emotions. Not only that but I had ADHD and Autism you see people love me because I’m diffrent now. But kids are scared of they don’t understand. You see I was like “Young Sheldon.” But my parents didn’t want me to be but you see she liked me she made an exception.she accepted me as an equal not someone to be feared atleast that was until I fucked up. You see she was the one for me the one that I had just messed everything up with. The day that we went back to school everyone in every grade was talking about what I had done. I didn't realize what I had done wrong (I mean it was a elementary relationship those don’t even count right; well apparently they started to count somewhere along the line. But I should also let you know that most pepole in Colorado lose there V card bettween the ages of 5-9 I didn’t no matter who I liked. I’m old fashioned I wanted to wait till marriage. That didn’t end up happening but once you have it with the person who you marry it’s not the same. You feel a spark of deepest emotions and regrets finally being released.) until I saw her and I felt this pit in my stomach grow.

I walked up to her but kept staring at the ground and said "hay"

she didn't not respond

I started to say what I wanted to say and then the bell rang so I said to her, "I'll see you at recess. I want to discuss this."

I made it through the rest of my day with my head down until recess when I got outside I ran up to her smiling. We started to walk around and then I said, "we need some privacy to talk about this." so we moved to where no one could hear us.

She said, "Why did you do it?"

I responded looking down at the ground and kicking the dirt with my feet, "I don't know June."

June responded to me by saying, "Was it a dare?"

A part of me wanted to lie to her and say yes but the mature side of me developed and came out and said,"No."

She responded, "Why did you do it then?"

"I don't know but trust me there's not a bone in my body that doesn't want to take it back and doesn't regret doing it." I said as A tear fell down my face i quickly got rid of it in hopes that she wouldn't see it

She told me, "How can I trust you when you cheated on me." ( by the way the only thing that I did was leaned over and kissed this kid on his back)

"I don't know what i was thinking." I said I took a pause to catch my breath so that I wouldn't cry and finished by saying,"I don't know if we can have the same level of trust but I will try every day for you to forgive me as long as it takes."

She stood up and Said "I don't think it will be i don't think i can trust you ever again."

"I love you." I said looking straight into her eyes making sure we both were making eye contact. ( I didnt love her because at this point in time I don’t know what love was. My gorgeous family is across the room; As i wright this and I don’t fell the same about her as I do about them. But at that point in time I thought I loved her things changed)

"And I hate you." she replied

I just stood there not knowing what to say. I wish I had said something because it might have saved me from these next words but then again I don't think anything could have as the two words I never wanted to come out of someone I loved mouth.

she said, "were over."

My world went dark I ran away crying and that pit didn't leave for a long time neither did the me not smiling and me not laughing and me not being happy it all went away for a very long time. So did the popularity the same day as everyone saw me being vulnerable and weak. I lost it all. Yet did I know that this was just the start of My Trauma as a child. This day ended everything good going for me or so I thought. You see for a long time I thought that no one else would care. But little did I know that there was someone having a normal life in Sacramento California. You see I was 8 when this happens which means she was 6 and attending the American Conservatory Theater which is located in San Francisco. See it’s weird saying all this because we have an 8 year old and a 6 year old right now and I just am so happy that there lives will be diffrent then ours. Anyway The next thing I know I was in the principal's office everyday. I remember one day Threatening to kill a kid and I was down in the office when the principal walked in.

"Hello Jefferson," I said

"Hello Y/N," He replied

"Can we just get this over with," I snarkly replied

"There are some people here to talk with you." He said in stern voice

I looked behind him expecting to see my parents but what I saw wasn't that It was two police officers. One started talking to me.

"Hello Mrs.?" one of them asked

"Y/L/N" I said

"Well Mrs.Y/L/N Im John. Will you come with us please," He asked

"Why?" I said standing up

"Hay SIT." He yelled as he pointed a tazer at me

"Your not the boss of me." I said

Everything went fuzzy and black The next thing I knew I was getting taken out of the school in handcuffs and being put in the back of a cop car. It turned out they thought it wasn’t John though it was an officer who got fired shortly there after. I went to the station and waited at the station until they called my mom. I could hear the call.

John asked,"Hello is this Mrs.Y/N/L ?"

My mom replied, " Yes, who's this?"

"This is officer john," He said well smiling at me

"What you want officer," My mom said

"Well I have your daughter here, we need you to come pick her up." John said

"Yah no That's not gonna happen." My mom said and hung up.

I was seven and this isn't even the worst of it. I Stayed in that jail cell till anyone in my family would pick me up. Sadly no one ever did it was 1 year and 9 months until I saw my mother again but she wasnt there for me she was being arrested herself. They didn’t really have room for me in the officer area but I made that cell my home. I just don’t know how permanent it would become.

I chuckled in my head and said in my head "that's where I got it."

She had been there for a few days to get clean. The officers John, Peter, Liam, Roy, Rodger, Rodney, Zack, Kyle, Steve and Tony all treated me like family, not like a prisoner but like one of them. I remember Liam coming over to my cell and sitting down to play cards with me. Well playing he told why my mom was there how she got caught high and selling drugs, how she was already wanted for being a sexual predator. Do you think this is enough trauma yet? Yah I would have too if i were you, but my life had other plans. They found my father 2 months later. He and my mother had split once she had started getting into drugs and when he found out that she was a sexual predator. We Were happy for 2 years. When he started drinking I was 10. When he started drinking he drank so much that some nights he wouldnt even be home when I would wake up. He would abuse me and I didnt know what to do. So one day I went to the police station and ran straight into peter.

"Hello peter," I said

"Hay chipmunk. why are you here?" He said

Them he looked at me and saw the bruises they kept me there until they arrested my dad for abuse. They gave me 2 options. I could change my identity and become a foster kid or I could live with my grandparents. I said i wanted to live with my grandparents and they drove me their and gave my stuff to my grandparents thats were I lived until College. It was 1 year later I was 11 and I had to make a family tree i kept bugging my grandparents to tell me about my family but they just would ignore it.

Until one day my grandma set me down and said "do you really wanna know about your family,"

See I mean I really didn’t need to know because the assignment was done already as this was 9 months later. Which they used to keep me knowing because everything I mentioned happened in 9 months and a little bit before than.

I replied "yes"

"Okay sit down Me and your grandpa met in college and fell in love. your mom met your dad's brother and his friends in highschool, and your mom is a bit of a psychopath. You see she killed them, she stabbed most of them and burnt a couple alive. With the help of your father's ex wife. Who I think you know because she was your childhood best friend's mother . Your father and your mother met in college in therapy. Your father for the death of his brother and Your Mother for mental help. They started dating, got married and got pregnant with you. The first four months she slept with your fathers ex wife. You see your father and her got married Junior year of high school and were only married for only two years. Your father did not know they murdered a bunch of people in those 4 months about 43 people to be percisis they broke up to hide from the cops they got plastic surgery to not look the same so that the

cops wouldn't find them. They weren’t that’s smart of people your mom never had been but the only time she was smart was when her sisters pet died or when she was getting in trouble you see she was always in the principal's office. ( wow just like me) After they broke up Your mother started hooking up with your fathers father, your grandfather your mother killed, your fathers mother your grandmother. Your mother slept with a highschooler 14 years old that kid was. The next was 17, then 12, then 9, then 10, then 5, then 4, then a 15 year old. She wrote in journals that she couldn’t stop because they always made her fell so good. (I still question if this is why she kept on touching my legs when we were laying together.She always wanted me to sleep next to her. Another thing that only the cops knew for a while I find it hard to talk about is that my dad told my mom to go into the bedroom so they could do stuff she grabbed me and said can she come too.My dad stopped her and said no.) but she kept those kids in the basement of a house only she and no one else knew she owned . Well she was still with your grandfather. your grandfather and her used to do drugs ( later on I also I found out that they would drug my dad and do drugs of off him and have sex on top of him while he was drugged.)in his son's house well he was at work at this time your mother had been pregnant with you 7 months. She stabbed your grandfather well sleeping next to him. Blew up the house with the kids in it and then once your father found out she was doing drugs he checked her into a hospital to get her clean and make sure you were okay. they stayed married tell you were 1 to make sure she wouldn't do drugs during this one year he caught her cheating on him with the man you called dad for the rest of your life and divorced her your mother set her ex girlfriend up with your father they had your sister also and named her Ezra if I’m right she way your best friend thats why they were always over there your dad divorced her when she cheated out him with your mother and the man you called your father. So did you really wanna know your family history?" she asked me

" how do you know all of this," I asked

she pulled out a bunch of journals and diaries "because your mom wrote everything down."

When I said trauma I ment trauma. This drove something deep down in my core. You see I had always wanted to be a cop to give families the justice that they needed so I headed to the police satiation and ran into Johnson arms crying I could breathe I finally told him everything and . I showed them all the journals I stayed there for the night. The next day we went to the location where my mom had hid all the bodys that stupid bitch kept track of everything. My dog is even better at hiding his bones in our bed. Although I was praying that they didn't find anybody, once we started finding bodies we never stopped finding the bodies there were too many too count. It guess she hadn’t stopped after I was born. I looked down in shock Crying. I walked up to John.

I didn't know what to say but I said Cryinging " I want a normal life again. Everyones gonna look at me diffrent. I know that can't happen now but i'm willing to prove against my mom wrong. I feel bad for all these families but I want to do something normal.".

John and I had a talk along with my grandparents and we decided that it would be better to have me be homeschooled. So that the bully wouldn’t get to me. It didn’t but I still struggled. I would go to the local store and people wouldn’t sell stuff to me. I was outside playing in the street and a car pulled up. It was the parents of the kids they had come to yell at me. They said I shouldn’t deserve to be alive and that they should look both me and my mom up. My grandfather came out and stopped him.

John wanted me too atleast stay near kids and I said theater actually what happened was.

"Like what?" John said

"I know i can't go to school yet because they don’t trust me and that i need to be acclimated into normall that’s why im doing homeschool but maybe( I looked down a saw a poster for a theater production at a highschool for Chicago there was a hot girl on the front wearing only a bra and pants.) i could start with doing theater." I said (hopping there would be hot pepole)

That's when this career choice started. That's when I made the first decision that I can remember. I arrived there that morning as a 12 year old left feeling like a 30 year old; With back issues needing a back massage and foot rub but that was all after my moms went to court

if you would like more just comment pls or like

#carol danvers #brie larson #brie larson x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers fic #carol danvers x reader #marvel #sapphic #lesbian community #lesbianism #lesbain #wlw #bisexual #biseuxal #bisexaul #murder

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years

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The Needs Of A Man

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Actor, Elvis Movie, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Sonny West, Memphis Mafia

Word Count: 1776 // Rating: Mature

Summary: People say having kids changes a relationship. You just didn’t know how right they were.

Tags/ Warnings: Fighting, Cheating, Established Relationship, Marriage, Adultery, Arguing, Body Image Issues, Pregnancy, Birth, Post Birth Body Changes, Insecurity, Public Arguments, Crude Mentions of Sex, Humiliation, Foot Fetish, Panty Wearing, Babies, Angst,

Notes: I’m sad just writing this so I hope youre happy lol

Tags for Elvis Fics: @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics

Request @elvispresleyisfit12 - Reader , elvis and the Memphis mafia are all sat in the jungle room reader has had elvis and hers baby like two months prior so she feels a bit self conscious / down and the Memphis mafia let it slip that elvis cheats on her almost every night , she breaks down crying arguing with elvis sharing intimate details to the Memphis mafia ( by accident cause she’s saying it to elvis but there in the room ykyk ) you can choose the ending bbg 😘🤭

‘Thanks honey,’ Elvis said as you handed him a drink. ‘No problem,’ you said sitting down on the sofa beside him smiling as he pulled your legs over his lap, his hand on your knee which he stroked it gently. He seemed to be doing it without thinking, not even bothering that there were at least ten other people in the room with you. You supposed it didn't matter. The boys were used to his affectionate ways even if they had dwindled a little as of late. Since having your son, Jesse, you felt a shift in your marriage. Elvis loved being a dad and you knew he was so proud of you for bringing his baby boy into the world but it wasn’t the same. You felt different, like a stranger in your own body. And you were sure Elvis had noticed as his touch and his attempts at seduction had lessened though you figured he was trying to go at your pace which you were grateful for.

That was why tonight had been so special to you. For the first time since the baby was born, you’d had people over for dinner and drinks and once dinner was over you’d migrated into the den talking about everything you had missed out on whilst the boys had been on tour. It was almost as it used to be. He’d been all over you as you got ready, telling you how beautiful you are and now he was caressing you no matter who was looking. It made your heart sing.

‘This is nice baby,’ he said as he sipped his drink. ‘I thought you might like it,’ you said pushing his hair from his eyes as he smiled at you. ‘Of course I do,’ he said leaning in so close he was almost kissing you, ‘shame you can't have one.’ ‘I know,’ you grumbled, ‘damn breastfeeding.’

‘The god damn walls shaking, the bed’s thumping against it and she’s screaming right,’ Sonny chuckled. He was sitting to your right, telling Marty about some women he had bedded making you roll your eyes. Living in a house that was almost always filled with boys meant you were never shocked by the locker room talk they came out with, ‘a proper scream ‘oh Elvis right there!’ ‘Proper dirty,’ Marty chuckled. You had barely been paying attention but as you heard your husband's name your blood ran cold. Sonny didn't seem to notice you were listening, probably thinking his conversation was being lost in the grander scheme of things as people were talking throughout the room.

‘What?’ you said your head whipping around. You’d said it loud enough that everyone had stopped their own conversations to look at you. Sonny turned, his face paling as he noticed it was you who had spoke. ‘N-n-nuthin’,’ Sonny stammered watching you like a deer in headlights. ‘You said Elvis,’ you continued, your heart heavy at the mere thought. ‘I misspoke,’ Sonny said, but as you turned your head to look at your husband, he dropped his gaze. Your heart ripped into two.

‘Is it true?’ you said, your voice thick with tears. Elvis said nothing but he sighed as you clambered off his lap. ‘Baby,’ he said moving to stand up with you but you pulled out of his grasp putting your hands on your hips to try and quell the rage that was flowing through you. ‘Don’t,’ you shouted, ‘don't you dare!’ ‘You don't understand,’ Elvis said. ‘Oh don't I? I don't understand,’ you spat, ‘well please enlighten me, Elvis. Please tell me how you just couldn't help yourself from fucking someone else. Let me guess she was like some kinda witch right? Some temptress who could lure you in so much so you could forget that ring on your finger!’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ he protested. ‘Oh so you wanted to?’ you scoffed, ‘forget that you’ve got a wife at home waiting for you.’ ‘You’re always busy! The baby-’ he said trying to reason with you but all you could do was scoff. ‘Your baby! Your baby Elvis! I’m taking care of our child. A child that I carried for nine months, went through a horrible birth with and spend my days trying to keep alive whilst you’re off touring the country,’ you snap, ‘or did you forget about that.’ ‘A man has needs,’ Elvis said defensively.

‘Oh I know,’ you sneered, ‘like when you needed me to clean ya up because you came in your pants from just looking at my feet in them dainty sandals you bought me. Or when you just had to know how my panties would feel against your cock-’ ‘Now hang on a minute,’ he shouted but you didn't let up. ‘What are the boys not allowed to know this shit? Huh? I thought the intimate details of our marriage were there for them to have at,’ you said, ‘or is it just the gory detail of each slut you bed they’re allowed to hear about!’ ‘Y/N,’ Sonny said, ‘it’s not-’ ‘What?’ you said. ‘Are you going to pretend like you didn't help? How many is it Son? How many times have you brought some tramp to his room? Once? Twice? Three hundred times?’ you said. ‘Baby please,’ Elvis said, ‘it’s not that simple. It gets lonely on the road. Sometimes I just need-’ ‘Oh yeah and what about what I need?’ you said trying to push the wave of sadness out of you, ‘who’s seeing to my needs when you’re out schmoozing every whore you can find huh? Who’s thinking of me when I’m crying over the fact I don't look like I used to or when I’m lying in bed awake for hours because you go to sleep without touching me? Who’s thinking of my needs then because it certainly isn’t you!’

Tears were streaming down your face at this point but you couldn’t stop yourself. You’d known having a child would change things between you. You knew that things might be a little harder now you had another person to think of but you’d never thought he’d feel so slighted by the birth of your baby boy he’d turn to the arms of another. That your love would be enough until you couldn't devote your entire being to him and then he’d be happy to find someone else. Elvis’ face crumpled in pain as you mentioned it and the boys dropped their gaze as the circus in front of them suddenly got too much to bear.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘baby I am. I didn’t know you felt that way-’ ‘No because you’re too busy fucking other people,’ you scoffed though it turned into a sob, ‘why? I thought you loved me.’ ‘I do,’ he said coming towards you and placing his hands on either side of your face. At any other moment, you’d cherish the embrace but you couldn't feel anything but hurt. His eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill over at any moment, ‘I’m sorry. I fucked up but I love you. You and my boy are my world baby.’ ‘How can I believe that?’ you sobbed. You could feel eyes on you from all around and in any other circumstance you'd be mortified at this display of public emotion but you didn't have the heart in your to care. You were too heartbroken to be embarrassed.

‘How can I believe anything you say?’ you sobbed, ‘I thought you loved me.’ ‘I do,’ he said wiping a tear from under your eye. ‘But not enough? Is it me? Am I just disgusting to look at now is that it-’ ‘No,’ Elvis said. ‘Then why?’ you said. ‘I don't know,’ he said, his voice cracking as he spoke, ‘I don't know why. But I was stupid and wrong. And I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. Baby, you believe that right? You believe I’m sorry, right?’

You didn't say anything. You wanted to believe him. Your heart begged you to believe him. That it was a blip. But your head was telling you differently. Things weren't going to change overnight and still had a baby to think about. Your body was still different. What if you couldn't get back to the way you were before? How long would it be before his head got turned again? Except that next time, he’d be more careful.

‘I love you,’ he said leaning down to kiss every bit of your face he could. His lips were warm against your damp cheeks and you could feel yourself yielding to him. ‘No!’ you said pulling away. He watched you with anguish as you ran a hand down your face to wipe the tears and the kisses away, ‘kissing me isn't going to fix everything.’ ‘Then how do I?’ he said, ‘please tell me. Honey, I’ll do anything.’ ‘I don't know what you can do Elvis,’ you said sadly. All of a sudden a whimper crackled over the baby monitor on the table by you and your attention went to it. You picked it up off the table and clutched it to your chest looking back at Elvis once more. The boys were watching you closely, guilt and shame on all of their faces which caused another round of pain to hit you.

‘Jesse needs me,’ you sniffed. ‘I’ll come with you,’ Elvis said starting towards you but you stepped away as if you needed to maintain at least a couple of meters to ensure you didn't start crying again. ‘No,’ you said. ‘Baby please,’ he said pleading at you with his eyes. Tears were flowing down your face again though your sobbing had stopped. ‘I just need you to leave us alone for a while,’ you said, ‘that's what you can do.’

And before he could say anything else you fled the den and headed upstairs to where your son was waiting for you. He was no longer crying by the time you got upstairs, instead, his bright blue eyes and cheeky smile were beaming at you as if you were his everything. You smiled back at him though it was weak and pulled him up out of his cot to cuddle him to your chest. He gurgled as you held him, his warm hand on your neck as he clutched your necklace with his tiny fist. You took a seat in the chair by his bed, holding him as you sobbed quietly.

You didn't know what you wanted. You didn't know what the next course of action was or if you could forgive Elvis. But you knew whatever happened you’d be okay. Because you had at least one boy who loved you with his whole heart.

#elvis #elvis fics #elvis fic #my writing #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis movie #elvis x reader fic #cheating #the needs of a man #requested #request #requested fic

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atinylittlepain · 5 months

Note

You have convinced me, please let me know which albums of the great Bruce should I listen to first??

If it helps for suggestions:

- I am very much a listen to the whole album person

- I am very much NOT from america

- I regularly cry listening to music because it’s just, so good? 💙

Thank you!

Okay, non, it is time. I've thought very carefully about it, and I think I have a quintessential roadmap to guide you through my beautiful wife bruce's oeuvre. Before I get into that though, I have a few things to say about his music.

To put it plainly, think of each of Bruce's songs as a story - if you ever listen to him talk about his songs, he'll talk about personas and characters populating his albums, he'll talk about trying to capture certain American characters, archetypes and images that are now of the past. He means that, and it is what he does. Maybe this is a reach, or just me being pretentious (hello, let's put that english double major to work) but his songs really remind me of Flannery O'Connor's short stories - and she would often talk about being interested in grace, and capturing it in her writing. And it's not grace in the religious sense - it's a hard-earned, or sometimes hardly-earned grace, found in those that are failing, those that are longing, those that are young and uncertain and at the same time very old, and very tired. I've seen jokes circulating about how Bruce's music makes you realize that you too have a sixty-year-old beat-down midwestern dad somewhere inside of you - and I think those jokes are pointing to that grace, to something that inherently aches inside of us, something very old, and very human. That is my thesis statement about Mr. Springsteen - it's why I love him and why I listen to him and why I'll be sorely sad when he is no longer here with us.

AND with that, here is my bona fide roadmap to your first trip with Bruce:

NUMBER ONE

Alright, starter album right here, and maybe considered a bold choice by some - BUT, this is an album you can listen to start to finish and feel like you just watched a movie, and I feel that this album captures something essential about Bruce's work, both lyrically and sonically.

my favorite songs from this album

The Promised Land

Something in the Night

Darkness on the Edge of Town

NUMBER TWO

Mannnnnnn this album - I'll be honest with you, it's just fucking fun - some of Clarence's best work (sax man, beautiful man) some of the best imagery, and I believe after Darkness on the Edge of Town warming you up, it's a perfect second listen - it's short, and pretty punchy, but goddamn, it hits.

favorite songs

JUNGLELAND (one of my all time favorite Bruce songs, truly, tears in my eyes when I listen to it, it's that good)

Backstreets

She's the One

NUMBER THREE

So this album is my favorite Springsteen album, hands down, no holds barred. And yes, it is pretty different from any of his other stuff. Bruce recorded these songs on a four-track recorder in his home in New Jersey, with little else - he was in his early thirties, The River had been a smashing hit, and he was depressed. The original intent for these songs was to rerecord them with the E Street Band - however, that did not happen. The songs that did get rerecorded would end up becoming Born in the USA (arguably his most popular album), and the songs that didn't would get salvaged off a cassette he had been carrying around in his jacket pocket, and they would become this album. It's sparse, it's insular, it's unprecedented, and it is, indubitably, my favorite album. (I could make a whole fucking other post about just this album, but I will restrain myself... for now)

favorite songs

My Father's House

Reason to Believe

Atlantic City

And after you've gotten through these three, I would say be free and explore - The River and Born in the USA are pretty infamous - I would say you might like The River more just given the "NOT from america" status, as you said.

favorites off The River

The River (I mean, cmon now)

Drive All Night (makes me cry like a baby)

Crush on You

However, Born in the USA is inarguably brilliant, she's popular for a reason - I'm from fucking Ohio though, so that whole album really gets my gears turning regardless.

favorites off Born in the USA that are, um, less american-y

Downbound Train (all time fave)

My Hometown

Bobby Jean

And, of course, I highly recommend listening to his live albums, there's just something about them - here's two songs to get you started there:

Happy listening, dear anon, I'd love to hear what you think when you start digging in :)

#my beautiful wife bruce #yall this was so fun for me #come ask me bruce questions whenever you want #i can also do this for several other artists just drop em in my inbox i will probably have Opinions lol

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dominickeating-source · 4 months

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Unbelievable!!!!!: Interview: Dominic Keating

In Unbelievable!!!!!, Dominic Keating plays Hacky – a name that seems very appropriate when you see his character in action. The sci-fi parody stars Snoop Dog alongside a host of familiar Star Trek faces from across the franchise. The movie gets its online premiere on 1 August, and Paul Simpson chatted with the former Star Trek Enterprise actor during lockdown…

How did you get to hear of Unbelievable!!!!!?

I think BarBara Luna [who played Lt. Marleau in the classic Trek episode Mirror Mirror] contacted me first.

I watched BarBara as a tender 9 year old. I nagged my dad rotten to get one of the first colour TVs in our street in Leicester to watch Star Trek in colour. It was one of those multi-broadcast TVs, it had a louvred door, looked like an aircraft hangar. It was the size of a coffin almost. These chiffon clad ladies were my first foray into erotica! BarBara and I had known each other from early on in the convention days – she reached out first. I think I was busy the first time they wanted to use me for something and then everybody else I knew did it and I felt a bit left out, so that’s when I reached out and got to meet Angelique [Fawcette] and realised it was her producing and her husband [Steven L. Fawcette] directing. They found a nice little cameo for me and happy to join. I’m going to be in a movie with Snoop Dog. Word! What a feat to get Snoop Dog to do this!

And you’re working with Captain Kirk Stillwood – the puppet…

I’ve done some things – I’ve worked with chimps and I’ve worked with puppets. I did a campaign where I got to work with a chimp; I was the Hollywood manager of a chimp!

Yes, I worked with the mannequin – it was a lot of fun actually. I only had a day’s work on it, literally a spit and a cough. It was lovely to be there. We all know each other from the conventions. I’ve been doing them for 20 years – I was the first out of the gate on our cast. The rest of my cast were all a bit sniffy about it to begin with until I drove my Porsche 911 onto the lot, paid for by conventions that first year. God bless those fans, man! I never stopped thanking them. We’ve all known each other for many a year – and to actually be on set with each other as actors was a lot of fun and a real treat.

So it was nice to work with everyone again – Casey [Biggs] particularly. I’ve known him, he’s a dear lovey love, and Max [Grodenchik] too, a great scene partner.

Have you kept up with the latest Star Treks?

Discovery and Picard? I haven’t. I don’t have [CBS All Access]. I was meant to go to the premiere of Discovery here at the Cinerama Dome, but sadly one of my cats died that very day, and frankly the idea of putting on a happy face wasn’t in my wheelhouse that night. Jason Isaacs and I go way back – we started out with the same agent in London 35 years ago. I know it’s gone down well.

I know originally it was going to be Bryan Fuller, and I know him of old. I thought I might get a good guest star or recurring role; he loved me, but then he and his writing partner parted ways, and he went on to do another show.

My first memory of Enterprise is going on set very early September 2001, and everyone talking about the plans – and then 9/11 happened.

It changed the show entirely. What is our relevance? I’d been here quite a while at that stage. I wasn’t a citizen, still a Green Card holder, but just to be immersed and to be in an American working environment, I never felt more American.

Very happy days at Paramount on the show. Scott [Bakula] was an amazing family leader – we couldn’t have hoped for a nicer man at the helm. He made those years joyous, frankly. I miss it.

It was a terrible shame we didn’t get to do our full stint, which I think we were well worthy of, certainly by the time Manny took over running the show in Season 4. No disrespect to Brannon, but he’d done this for sixteen years – he was tired out. I remember reading Manny’s first script in the Xindi arc, which was our riposte to 9/11, and thinking, “That’s good, who wrote this?” I phoned up the writers and asked to speak to Manny Coto! He’s gone on to bigger and bigger things. We were certainly worthy of another couple if not the whole seven years, but unfortunately the network was tanking and there were bigger things afoot than the success of our show. There was talk of going to Vancouver to shoot but Scott had two small children.

Marina came and did our last episode with Jonathan Frakes to a lot of people’s consternation – I had no idea that Scott was so affronted by that last episode until we all did the 10 year reunion at CBS for the release of the Blu-rays and we all had a big interview. It all came out in that that it really ticked him off. By that stage we’d known we were cancelled for about six, seven weeks if not longer, and I was over the shock of it. I won’t say that I think that the device to get those two into our episode was a bit clunky, but that said one of my favourite days’ shooting was doing the galley scene with Jonathan Frakes. He’s hilarious.

I’d always known he was funny – there’s a story I often tell. We’d gone over to Birmingham to do a big British convention. I went into the green room and there were all these young hotshots, cheeked and ab-ed actors, all flown in from their hot shot shows in Toronto and Vancouver and all were waxing on about how great things were… I was remembering how it used to be when it was me. They petered out and went back to their signing tables so there just me sitting alone there finishing my sandwich. There was this rustling underneath the trestle table on the other side of the room, and Jonathan Frakes popped his head up from where he’d obviously been having a nap, or trying to, and he saw me and went, “Hey, Dom, how are you? Are all those *********s gone now?” He’s a real actor’s actor. I had a great time working with him.

What else are you up to at the moment, apart from staying in for lockdown?

I’ve got a film I’ve been promoting, The Host, which sort of got a release virtually. It’s a psychological horror movie set in London and Amsterdam. I’ve been doing some voiceover work for Blizzard, God bless – I did quite a lot of voices for them for World of Warcraft. I have another voiceover on Tom Hanks’ new movie, Greyhound – I play the captain of the English battleship in this flotilla chasing U-boats. You never see me unfortunately but it’s my voice, but a mate of mine told me I’m in it quite a lot, and referred to quite a lot too! I got to work with Tom – he was in the room when we recorded, and what a lovely chap he is. Shortly after that he got COVID!

The worldwide online premiere of Unbelievable!!!!!! is 1 August – tickets for the all-day event can be purchased today (31 July) here

Thanks to David Roberson & Ian Spelling for their assistance in arranging this interview.

Source: scifibulletin.com, published 31 July 2020.

#dominic keating #the keating cult

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garthcelyn · 1 year

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Uhhh Space Lore(Maybe)

Idk I just had fun with a very distant prequel to literally everything else I write. Going back to my roots of dystopia. Very unedited. A fun introduction to The Big Bad of like two books(have fun guessing who).

The program was meant as humanities last ditch effort. Shuttles sent to major cities, their trajectory set to sail among the stars. The Redeemable stood tall in the remains of Cardiff, all gleaming steel and pristine paint, a sore thumb in the midst of the rubble. Passes were issued to those considered Welsh enough, those who would represent what was left of the broken down country.

Mared had fought for one for her daughter; despite being a member of the Senedd, it was decided that her strange half-American offspring was not meant to make it. Now the child stood motionless in the pod beside her mother’s, suspended in time as the frost slowly took over the glass. The father stood outside, firmly set on Earth, preparing to wave the departure of his family to God knows where. Never to be seen again. Lloyd had worked with him briefly, both fiddling with last minute electrical checks, making sure everything ran smoothly. He didn’t ask his name, but knew he still managed to make good coffee despite the End and wore his wedding ring around his neck so it could lay against his heart. They spoke of the sports teams they pretended to be interested in, swapped old family recipes, and held each other as their impending doom drew closer. Now Lloyd stood on the ship as the technicians set up his own pod, looking back at his short term friend. The pod was like a coffin. Barely padded, a metal rectangle filled with wires attached to an arm to the wall. His shoulders brushed the sides, a little too wide for them to hold him right but it was too late to back out. Stomach churning, he couldn’t help but think of his father back at home, the man whose space he had taken. It was easy. Lloyd had been greying since he was fourteen, wide streaks of white parting his dark brown hair. Tall, broad, with the same farmer’s tan that marked every other man in his family. Old John was sick, a fact he had kept to himself right up until the day he was meant to set off to Cardiff. They wanted workers, strong and fit, to shoot into the vast ocean of space, and Old John was neither. He assured Lloyd that he’d never make it out there, pressed the pass into his hand as his older brother watched in disdain, and sent him off.

Mared had given him a lukewarm bottle of water, sat him down when she suspected he wasn’t his father. They spoke. She understood. She told him that if she could, she would have let her husband take her place, all the while watching has the man played with his daughter one last time, swinging her in circles as the girl laughed, giddy with excitement of the unknown. Neither parent told her that it would be the last time she would see her father. “It’s cruel,” she had explained, “but if it means she lives, I would have given her my spot. I would have done anything.” The girl’s name was Lucy, but she liked being called Luka and loved wolves and proudly proclaimed that she’s a big girl now. She was six, with gaps in her teeth she had yet to feel self conscious about, her hair a mass of untameable curls that she refused to let her mother touch. She was going to be an electrician just like her dad, was going to play football professionally, and was going to own an animal sanctuary in Utah one day, despite barely knowing what a Utah was. When the sun started to set, Mared let her exhausted, panting daughter climb into her lap, hiding her face in Mared’s wheat blonde hair as she let her mother stroke her back in small circles. Before she stepped into her coffin, after sending her daughter to what might be their death, she gave him a small wobbling smile and a stiff nod that he returned.

It was cold in the pod. An oxygen mask now strapped over his mouth, all plastic and greasy rubber clinging to his damp skin. Around him the metal beast rumbled impatiently. The smell of smoke hung in the air, coming through the miles of tubes running through the ship. He felt weightless, still awake in his cage as they took off. The tubes tickled his skin, threatening to remove the needles set deep into his arms, pouring a liquid that meant to keep him alive through cryosleep. Technicians stopped bustling, strapping themselves to seats to observe, even if it meant their lives in the long run. Lloyd’s heart refused to beat into a panicked flutter, remaining slow and steady despite everything. Though his heart was calm, his mind was a furious flurry of regret. His brother, Iestyn, would have jumped at the chance, if he had only been offered. If Old John didn’t take favourites. They wanted farmers and got Lloyd, the youngest son of a youngest son who didn’t even have a driver’s license yet. Too young, yet old enough to pass as his father to those not paying attention. In the final moments, as the shuttle threatened to leave their atmosphere, as Lloyd’s eyes finally began to drift closed, he thought of Mared, some welsh senator he never voted for but had shown him kindness in their final days, of Luka who was far too young to die on a destitute planet or in the confines of space. But most of all he thought of the future; the flickering amount of hope he forced himself to have, even as his heart slowed to a stop.

#kd writes

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