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railingsofsorrow · 1 month

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chapter I | catharsis

summary: “Is there— is there something you need?” He's kind. He's so kind and his voice is better than she had ever imagined.

All of all the things she could have said, what came out is something else entirely.

“Your hair is shorter.”

w.c: 3.4K

warnings/content: mentions of mass food poisoning; implied unhealthy relationships (it will be explored later); germaphobia; fluff.

A/N: WE'RE FINISHED WITH THE LETTERS! I was too excited to start writing the longer chapters with a detailed narrative. I know it took too long but.... here it is, I hope you enjoy! annnd, they finally meet!

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whoever wants to be tagged for this fic, fill this out or dm me.

LETTERS — [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

CHAPTERS — [1] [2] [3] . . .

❝Catharsis❞

[n.] THE EXPERIENCE OF EXPRESSING STRONG EMOTIONS THAT PREVIOUSLY WERE BLOCKED.

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“Don't even start, Reid.”

Spencer pursed his lips, shifting on the passenger seat. “I didn't say anything.”

Derek scoffed, “I can hear you thinking.”

“Thought broadcasting is a common phenomenon that happens when one thinks others can hear your thoughts. That is not physically possible. It actually might be a sign of paranoia—”

Derek groaned loudly, begging for the gods above that the traffic went easy on him for five minutes. He needed five minutes to get to the other Interstate. Five. Minutes.

Spencer let out a snicker beside him, having too much fun in being correct as always. He had told Derek beforehand that the safest option would be to take the alternative route, even if that meant it was slightly longer than directly taking the I-95. They still would get to Norfolk University's Student Center faster.

Derek didn't listen to him and here they were, stuck in traffic just as Spencer predicted.

In some way, this was good.

Spencer hated being late to anything, which was why he always double-checks the time so he can get to any place earlier, just to be sure. Just in case. That's him. A pragmatic guy.

But when he heard where the next case was going to be, he backtracked a little.

Spencer has been corresponding with Iris Valencia through letters for the entire month of October. It felt like more, maybe years. He knows that this feeling is quite common for people who had found some sort of connection. They have affinity. A bond, if you will. It explains the reason for your comfort after you've just met someone. You used to be strangers, but you realise they like blueberry muffins too and then you have a coffee date scheduled in the afternoon. It is that simple, sometimes.

Spencer could never relate to that. Well, at least, not before Iris. Although he has never invited her over for coffee and they haven't spoken in person yet.

Yet.

But it felt like it. It felt like he has known her for a long time.

The case was in Norfolk University, 165,7 miles from Quantico. The place Iris worked as a microbiology professor and which she described that her whole department fell sick because of a supposed food poisoning.

That hasn't been the first time a university has had that kind of situation. As she mentioned in one of her letters, the Old Dominion University — another university located in Norfolk — was also on the news about food poisoning. The difference was that it had been only a small group of students that suffered the outcome. NSU had it worst, a large group of people had to be sent to the E.R.

The BAU was called in because of recent deaths in the area. When they eventually connected it to the food poisoning cases happening in the universities, Hotch divided the team into pairs to cover more ground. The suspect list was narrowed down to three students from Norfolk State University.

“What did you say?”

“You and Morgan are off to the M.E's office.” Hotch repeated as they left the precinct.

“You're going to Norfolk State University?” Spencer asked a little dumbfounded. Derek gave him a confused look.

Hotch halted beside the car door, the crease between his brows deepening. “That's where our first victim lived... Reid, are you alright?”

That finally seemed to be the minute Spencer snapped out of it. “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “Yes, sorry. I was just making sure. We'll— we'll go now.”

He felt like a thirteen-year-old boy with his first crush. The accelerated heartbeat, the shaky limbs, the sweaty palms. The not knowing what to do and mostly, what Emily always teased him about and what he only recently noticed: his IQ is, in deed, slashed to half when he's attracted to someone.

Spencer had not met Iris yet. But he felt all of those things. Through letters. For the first time in his life he couldn't find a scientific explanation for what he was currently feeling. He hadn’t met her, he hadn't seen her, let alone heard her voice. He's only seen her delicate handwriting with her t's curved at the base and her barely noticeable s's and he was quickly roped to her personality. What Iris shared with him so far, that is.

Spencer studied people for a living. That's a quick way of putting his occupation. He investigated behavior and he entered minds that were just as twisted as the crimes they committed. Some cases stay glued on his brain more than others — it's not like he was able to forget anything, although sometimes he wished he could.

Iris had interested him more than any quantum physics book ever could.

Spencer knows she likes birds. That's one of the first things she shared with him, actually. He also knows that her favorite author is Haruki Murakami and Spencer has read all of her recommendations, he even bought more books besides the ones she mentioned. He knows Iris hates loud noises, clowns and that she takes her coffee black and plain. He knows how much she cares about her students and that she probably loves what she does because of the way she writes about it. He knows that she doesn't believe in magic, but he's determined to change her mind.

To Spencer, Iris was like a book. He had no idea what the cover was like and he had not read the synopsis, but from the first page and on, he decided he wanted to know everything there is to know about the story. He wanted to see if there were small notes at the edges of every page or if there were underlined quotes. He wanted to figure out the mystery before the next chapter arrived, even if the ending might be completely different.

He had come to terms with the fact that he wants to meet her in person for a while now. But Spencer didn't plan when that would happen or if it would happen. He doesn't even know if she would want to meet him.

Now, he was walking into the University she worked at with her letter tucked into his satchel bag as he forced his brain to focus on what was supposed to be focusing on: the case.

"Finally." Emily raised a brow as they walked into the room. According to JJ's message an hour ago, they were talking to the Head of the Biology Department because of a lead on one of the suspects. Hotch and Rossi were speaking with Penelope through the speakerphone in a corner of the room. "Took you long enough."

Spencer shrugged at her jab, pointing at Derek. "I told him, he didn't listen." He was softly shoved in response.

"Shut up, Reid."

"We're waiting for Mark Dawson to come back with a professor who supposedly has some information on Meredith Fitz." JJ clarified before Spencer could question her why they were all reunited in a professor's office. "They're all in class, we don't want to raise too much attention."

"Sorry to keep you all waiting."

A blond man walked into the room with a brunette woman on his trail. He was dressed in a color-coordinated attire, a russet dress shirt with slightly darker khaki pants. A complete contrast with the woman beside him, she wore light blue jeans along with a maroon V-neck sweater vest and a white t-shirt below. Her hair was in a loose bun but some thick curls were falling off. She was tucking them behind her ear constantly.

Spencer noticed she seemed annoyed.

"This is Doctor Valencia, she's our microbiology professor. Meredith is one of her students."

Valencia? As in—

"I can speak for myself." Dr. Valencia said through gritted teeth, shaking hands with every agent. Spencer was too busy sweating like crazy in nervousness to take notice of Emily's and JJ's pointed gaze exchange after the professor's harsh statement towards Professor Dawson. "It's good to meet you, Agents, but I spoke to the police last night, I already gave my formal statement regarding the occurrences of the last week."

The last person to be introduced was him.

He heard something that sounded distinctly like a choked-up sound. He didn't pay much attention until Hotch started conducting questions regarding the case. Because that was what he was focusing on, the case. His hands tingling as she drew hers back, barely giving him a look.

"The FBI?" Iris blinked in surprise. Only now did she seem to really acknowledge everyone in the room. Her shoulders tensed up. "So that wasn't just accidental food poisoning."

"We're investigating that," Hotch said, being vague on purpose. "It came to our knowledge that Meredith Fitz is one of your mentees?"

Iris nodded, running a hand through her face. "Yes, yes, she is. Meredith is, um, completing her master's degree in post-mortem microbiology."

"Does she have access to your lab?"

"All of my students have," Iris said. "We have practical classes." She visibly stiffened. "Is she a suspect?"

“We're looking into it,” Hotch responded.

Iris stepped out of her frozen state, interrupting another question being thrown her away.

“This isn't— This isn't right.” She begun. “Meredith is one of my top students. She's a nice girl, she wouldn't do this.”

Emily nodded sympathetic, “as he said, we are still investigating that information. But we do need to speak with her so that can be clarified.” Before Iris could speak, Mark beat her to it.

“She didn't come to class today, so that won't be possible, will it?” Mark sent a look towards Iris that anyone in the room could read it as a pretty clear insinuation. Iris wasn't paying attention to him, she was lost in her thoughts, gaze focused on a corner of the room.

Spencer was itching to say something, but he stood quiet.

“Neither did Fabian Helley. Another top student of Dr. Valencia here.” He added, leaning back on his desk. “You know, maybe you should investigate this particular pattern.”

Derek let out a sigh. He was done with Dawson's little game. It was clear that the guy was trying to antagonize Iris.

“Sir—”

“Please stop.”

Every eye in the room snapped towards her voice. Iris clutched the back of her arm as if she was trying to give herself some form of grounding. Spencer could see how much she cared for each one of her students. He's read about it, it's all in her letters, but even his coworkers who didn't have that bonus glimpse into her character could tell that.

They could also tell she was greatly bothered by Mark Dawson. And Spencer himself was starting to get bothered by him as well.

“I'll answer your questions and anything else in my office. Is that okay with you?”

Nobody protested against that and Mark stood by his desk, arms crossed much like a petulant child. They followed Iris towards her office while exchanging curious glances. She did answer all of their questions, hesitating slightly whenever the questions were directed towards Meredith Fitz and Fabian Helley, mostly because she did not believe they could have done such a monstrosity as mass poisoning.

“What happened to being a germaphobe, pretty Ricky?” Derek nudged his shoulder, earning a confused look from Spencer. “You shook the professor's hand. Not a single complaint as always.”

“I was being polite.” His cheeks were burning. Did he shake her hand? Thankfully she wasn’t close enough to listen to their conversation.

Derek disguised a chuckle by soft coughing and Spencer glared at him.

"I'd like to apologize about Professor Dawson. He's been on edge ever since all this started." Iris informed as Rossi and Hotch left the room to call Garcia.

"We can see that," Emily smiled reassuringly at her. "If you don't mind me asking, is there a particular reason why he seemed displeased about Fabian Helley?" Iris shifted on her feet and everyone else in the room pretended they were not listening in on the conversation since Emily had approached her in a rather private manner.

Still, Iris did not relent.

"Mark is always displeased by something or someone." It was the last thing she decided to share after pondering to herself.

It wasn't until Hotch came back into the room to send each of them to interview a few other witnesses — except for Spencer, who he requested to start the geographical profile since they had enough cases as of now – that Iris seemed to glance in Spencer's direction.

Dr. Reid, who she shook hands with and didn't even properly notice until now. Iris was generally a perceptive person, she caught things quickly. Though she's having trouble focusing ever since this morning, perks of a bad night's sleep. She blamed that for not realising him sooner, that was the only possible explanation, really. His honey-brown eyes switched to his colleagues as soon as she caught him looking.

Iris’ breath caught in her throat. The Behaviour Analysis Unit is here. Spencer mentioned in one of his letters that he works for the FBI... She truly was slow today, wasn't she?

“Dr. Valencia?”

She snaps out of her daze to stare at a pretty blonde woman in a dark blazer, she wore a blue t-shirt below. Agent Jareau. That's her name.

“Sorry,” Iris cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks heat up at being caught staring at him. She must look like such a creep. “I zoned out. Were you speaking to me?”

She offers her a sympathetic smile before saying, “we don't want to take much of your time. We know you have lectures to teach. Thank you for your patience.”

“No need to thank me, Agent. It's all good.” Just as each of them gave her their farewells, she was stuck in an inner argument about whether or not she should talk to him. It's not appropriate. He didn't even recognize you, wake up.

Not appropriate. Not appropriate. NOT APPROPRIATE.

“Uh, Dr. Reid?” It was barely above a whisper as if she had been scared of saying it too loud. His body turning around fast was the indication she needed that he had heard her. Thankfully, his team was a little further down the hall to notice the small exchange. “Sorry, I don't mean to get in your way—”

She's completely awkward all of a sudden. Iris couldn't grasp her mind that she's been talking to this man for over a month, flirting, trauma bonding and now she couldn’t utter a word without sounding like she didn’t know a word in the English language.

“Is there— is there something you need?” He's kind. He's so kind and his voice is better than she had ever imagined.

All of all the things she could have said, what came out is something else entirely.

“Your hair is shorter.”

Well, fuck, Iris. Congratulations, you have officially made a fool out of yourself!

“I did not intend to say that out loud, I am so so sorry, Spenc— Dr. Reid. I just, I saw a picture of yours because of an article that I read and—”

“Iris.”

“And I—” she froze, watching a smile grow on his lips, which immediately brought warmth to her chest. Somehow, it didn't feel as if he was laughing at her. If he was then it's a beautiful sight to uphold regardless. “Yes?”

“I thought you didn't recognize me.” Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, shifting on his feet. She observed the worn-out sneakers causing her lips to twitch in amusement. One of Iris's assumptions was that Spencer was the kind of guy to wear fancy shoes — it only made sense because of the way he dressed — but that surprised her. At least she’s not the profiler. “You know, we've only been corresponding through letters so I figured you wouldn't...”

Her lips parted in astonishment. “You recognized me?”

His brows furrowed slightly, “yes. Your name is literally on the case file.”

“Oh.”

His eyes softened at her widened eyes as she processed the information. And then his brain pinched him with the fact that that's not how we're supposed to meet. Not because of a case. I'm supposed to invite her for coffee just so I can certify if she actually takes her coffee plain black with barely any sugar on it. Or a library, so we can ramble together about our favourite authors and books.

Not.in.the.middle.of.a.case.

“You probably have a whole file about me, huh?” Her tone was playful and Spencer remembered how he grinned whenever he read her sarcasm through paragraphs of her handwriting. He learned to find Iris's humor through her words. Seeing it displayed right in front of him, full of vivid colors and a voice he tried to imagine for so long what it was like... He's speechless and already addicted to it.

“Our technical analyst probably has.” Spencer croaked out, forcing himself to avert his gaze to his feet instead.

Iris’s eyes acquired a spark of excitement.

“Is that the one with the clingy hugs?”

Spencer let his mouth quirk up on the edges, “yes. That's Penelope.”

“So you know all of my dark secrets before we even share them to each other.” He could hear her playful tone that carried a bit of uncertainty in the end.

“I have no reason to read your file,” Spencer said. Because he didn't. Not unless she was an official suspect. “So no, I don't know about any of your dark secrets.”

“That's good. You won't run for the hills yet.”

“What makes you think I would ever run?”

Their gazes remain on each other for a brief moment until one of them eventually caved and looks away, necks reddening, heartbeat increasing.

“Call me Spencer.” He said, squeezing the strap of his work bag until his fingers turned white. His phone vibrating in his pocket alerted him he'd taken too much time talking and less time working. He didn't want to go. “I-uh, I've read your letter. Just in case you think I've been ignoring you... I haven't. I just haven't had the time to write you back properly.”

Iris tilted her head as she leaned against the wall. “Maybe you don't need to write me back.” What am I doing? She thinks.

He cast her a look of puzzlement before his disappointment could take over, Iris was quick to clarify what she meant.

“Maybe we could talk instead of write.” She added carefully. Confidence wearing thin. “Over coffee? Not today, of course, you're working and I'm working and we wouldn't have time but... It's—It's a stupid idea, isn't it? I'm sorry. Pretend I didn't suggest—”

“I would love to talk instead of write.” Now that I can finally hear your voice, I can stop trying to image what you sounded like through your letters. I don't want to ever stop listening to you.

Iris gave him a look of surprise as if she had been expecting rejection because that just might have been the most out-of-place idea she had. Asking Spencer Reid out on a date while he's in the middle of a case where she works?

“You need to go.” She mused, giving a pointed look at the vibrating cell in his hands.

“As soon as the investigation is over.” He told her after they'd exchanged numbers through their phones. Iris nodded, smiling wildly as he took a few steps back to leave her office but still didn't quite leave.

“As soon as the investigation is over, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer halts, holding onto the doorway as if stopping himself from leaving — or staying. She didn't know which.

“Call me Spencer.” He repeated, grabbing his phone to pick up the call. Slowly, a smile etched its way into her face and his mouth followed the same action.

“Okay, Spencer.”

Spencer nodded, holding in a smile. “I have to go.” I don’t want to.

“Please do. I don't want the FBI locking me up because I held you against your will in my office.” A joke. He liked hearing her jokes instead of reading them. “Be careful.” She requested in a slightly more serious tone, just like she always wrote in her letters addressed to him.

“You too,” he said, taking his time to look at her one last time before he had to sprint off to where Derek required him.

It was very nice seeing you, Iris.

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A/N: hey everyone, welcome to the next phase of SBPP. I'm excited. next chapter you'll have a deeper glimpse into iris' character and some things will come to light. i'd love to read what you guys are thinking of this fic!

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz ; @cultish-corner ; @lover-of-books-and-tea ; @theonecalledrue

#sun-bleached paper petals #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x original character #spencer reid x iris valencia #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #sun-bleached paper petals fic

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sickvictorianangel · 10 months

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☽ Dangerous Elysium ☾

A fanfic about Dutch Van Der Linde, Arthur Morgan and John Marston's relationship with fem! reader.

Summary: Your whole life changes after a traumatic night. Lost and alone, you find yourself being saved by three outlaws. As you try to adapt to this new life full of danger and drama, you start to develop feelings for Dutch, Arthur and John.

Masterlist

Author’s Notes:

So, ya girl finally decided to post the 1st chapter of the story! Guys, I really hope you like it, and if you don't just keep scrolling and don't be rude 🥺 Any constructive criticism is good and please, if you like and reblog I will really appreciate it! ♡

TW: 18+ content, eventual smut, slow burn, maybe gore, mentions of death. Minors DNI!

The story is narrated through the reader's pov. The () are the reader's thoughts.

Tag List: @photo1030 @roamingtigress @margofiore

*I will tag anyone that wants to be alerted anytime I release a chapter from this story.

♡ Dividers by Saradika ♡

♡ Dividers (DNI) by CafeKitsune ♡

Prologue:

It was late at night, darkness had consumed everything around me. The only thing I could see was a sky full of stars, shining bright like diamonds. My face was wet from all the tears I’ve cried, the gunpowder smell still lingered on my nose. My hair was disheveled, I was a picture of pity and misery. My nightgown was the only thing shielding me from the cold air around me. I lost everything that night. My house, my belongings, all my most prized possessions. And most importantly, him...

It was a normal day, I was working in the house while my husband was taking care of the farm animals. When the sky was a mix of orange and gray,we both retired for the night. That’s when a group of men knocked on my door. The night was silent, the only noise was the crickets and wind that swayed the trees. The knock sounded rushed, impatient. When my beautiful Henry opened the door, the last thing he saw was the bullet coming out of the cold pistol. I remember seeing him on the ground, his empty eyes staring at nothing, lifeless. No trace of the man I once loved so dearly.

The filthy bastards invaded my home and completely destroyed me and everything I once loved.

I still remember their cold eyes staring at the depth of my soul, the only thing I could see was pure evil, no regrets, no fear… I knew that would be my demise, and to be fair, death wouldn’t be so bad right now, the chance to be with my love again, to see my parents once more and to finally be at peace.

That’s when shots rang from everywhere.

Three men, on top of their horses were shouting and shooting at the bastards. Their green scarves, now stained with red. Bullets flying everywhere, a picture of chaos. I could swear those were the three knights of the apocalypse, ready to take the lives of those who stood on their way. My head went blank, as the tall and broad man, with a black hat stared at me. I saw his mouth moving but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Suddenly, my feet began to move, I didn’t have control over my body. I stared at Henry for the last time and ran, as far as I could.

Now, I am here, alone and lost. With nowhere to go. To be fair, I know I can’t survive the night. For all I know, I can be the next meal to a hungry animal or the victim to a man’s greed. I would prefer being the dinner to a hungry puma than to suffer the latter. What I can’t understand is why the three outlaws allowed me to escape… For all I know, they could’ve killed me there or done even worse.

And talking about them…

The silence of the night was cut by the sounds of horse hooves, rushed, like they were on a mission. It was getting closer and closer and again, I couldn’t move. Apparently my flight or fight instinct doesn’t work. As my body shuts down, I hear their voices. The man on the white horse looked imposing. His presence alone made me understand that he was the leader. I couldn’t make out much about how he looked because everything was pitch black. Only thing I could see was the gold details on his outfit shining under the starlight. As I stared blankly at him, looking like a hopeless deer, ready to be shot, he got down his horse and approached me.

Dutch: “Ma’am, it’s okay. We are not gonna hurt you. We followed you after we dealt with the damn O’Driscolls. They are savages and I am so sorry they did such brutality to you and your…” He said with concern on his face.

Y/N: “Husband…”

(O’Driscolls… What is he talking about? The monsters that killed my Henry?)

Dutch: “You see lady…”

Y/N: “ Y/N… Y/N Y/L/N “

Dutch: “Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m really sorry you had to go through that. Sadly, you are not the first widow they made. But let me ask you dear, do you have anyone or anywhere to go?”

I don’t understand why he cares at all. I’m just another victim to these damn O’Driscolls, as he said. So why does he want to help me? What could he gain with that? I know I shouldn’t trust someone I don’t know, especially if they are outlaws, but something about the way he talks and presents himself gives me a sense of safety… And if he wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it by now.

Y/N: “I don’t have anywhere to go and I don’t have anyone. It was me and my husband, and that house and everything inside it was all I had.” I could feel the tears filling up my eyes again…

Dutch: “I see…” He took a moment to think, by his expression, it was something of great importance. And then he proceeded with a sudden question that I didn’t know how to answer. "Would you like to join us, Mrs? You see, these two (as he pointed to the two other men, the one with the black hat being the only one I can fully remember. The other, I could only discern the long hair and maybe some dark features) are not the only family I have. We are part of a big group, we even have women and a child. So you have nothing to worry about. We only want to help you.”

(A big group of men, and I suppose all armed as well…? And what could these women possibly do in a group like that?)

Thing is, I don’t have a choice. And, again, if they wanted to kill me, they would do so. I literally have nothing else to lose but my own life.

Y/N: “I would like to join you, Mister…?”

Dutch: “Van Der Linde. Dutch Van Der Linde, honey. And these two are Arthur Morgan and John Marston.”

The other two men just tipped their hats, not fully giving me their attention.

Y/N: “If there is no problem, I will accept joining your group… I just don’t want to cause any trouble. That’s all.”

Dutch: “Don’t worry, darling! (He said while opening his arms in a welcoming manner). No way you can be any bother. Now, let me help you, you will ride with me. We can make it to the camp before the sun starts to shine again. And of course, welcome to the family, dear.”

John: “Welcome, Mrs. I’m sure you will like the others. Maybe not all of them, but at least the women are alright!”

Arthur: “Shut up, Marston! Don’t go scaring the lady before she even gets to know everyone!”

Dutch: “Okay, you two. Enough! Let’s go, we shouldn’t be mingling at these hours in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if more of the damn bastards showed up. Now, Mrs, are you ready?”

As I nodded, Dutch lifted me effortlessly and put me on top of his horse. We rode through the night, peacefully. He kept his horse on a slow gallop, afraid I would fall. I could feel the cold wind on my face, drying my tears as they fell freely on my face. I knew nothing would be the same again. The life I’ve lived was long gone and I would never be the same woman. I held tightly to his waist, and as I was starting to fall asleep, I heard someone shouting. From the distance, I could see the sparkle of lights and some people talking, others singing…

“Who’s there?!” (A male voice shouted from afar)

Arthur: “It is us, Charles!”

Charles: “Oh, welcome back! Eventful evening?” He said as he nodded his head in my direction.

Dutch: “Oh, you have no idea, friend! Damn O’Driscolls boys made poor Mrs. Y/N a widow.”

I couldn’t do anything but stare at Charles. He was a tall man, and looked like a nice feller. I could definitely see a glimpse of pity in his eyes as he stared directly at mine.

Charles: “I’m sorry, Mrs. They are a nasty bunch…”

John: “Yeah… But she is with us now, I’m sure we can keep her safe. At least we will try.”

(Why did he say that with a smile on his face…?)

Arthur: “Marston, don’t ya think before ya talk?!”

Y/N: “Hey, it is okay. I know he is probably joking. I’m just not in a very funny mood right now… I’m sorry.”

As I said that, trying to hold a weak smile, Mr. Van Der Linde finally spoke.

Dutch: “None of us would be, darling. After something traumatic like that, we don’t expect you to. Now, let me introduce you to Ms. Grimshaw. I know you are in a dire need of some rest, so I will trust you in her capable hands. We can talk tomorrow about how you can contribute to the gang. She is always needing some help around.”

(Miss Grimshaw was an older and also imposing woman. She was dressed in nice clothes, hair styled perfectly and classy. A woman I wouldn’t dare to mess with. But, did he say…)

Gang… So now I am part of a gang of outlaws.

( I mean, better than dying alone or being used by some sick bastard. Right now, the only thing I need is to try and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day, and I’m curious as to what will hold.)

♡ …I hope everything will be okay. ♡

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde #john marston #arthur x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

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deejadabbles · 11 months

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The Handmaiden's Fox (Fox x Fem!Reader) Chapter One

Summary: You have been by Amidala’s side since she was the queen of Naboo and no one will shake you from your duty. Not even a handsome, red-clad commander who seems quite taken with the friendship you’ve forged. Commander Fox x fem handmaiden reader. Slow burn, friends to lovers. Rating: Mature A.N: So for those of you who don't know: all of Padmé's handmaidens take new names ending with " é " as a sign of loyalty to her. I never mentioned the reader's é name as I want that to be personal, but I wanted to mention it since it comes into play in the story <3

I've also made a playlist for this series, in case you want to set the mood with tunes. Word Count: 6,284 Warnings: just some blaster fire and canon typical danger Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

Prologue /// Part One /// Part Two /// [part three coming soon]

Chapter one

The roaring of the senate chamber was deafening. You had thought that years of exposure to it would harden your hearing, but no petty debate between dozens of senators could have prepared you for the screaming of the last two weeks. Two weeks. Not even fourteen rotations had passed since the battle of Geonosis. Since the start of the Clone War. Every day more and more planets were leaving to join the Separatists, and the destruction of chaos was spreading fast. So, you supposed it was little surprise that every single debate in the Senate was automatically a vibrant verbal brawl now.

And here you had hoped that fewer senators in the hall would lessen the noise.

As always, you stood sentry behind your lady, your Amidala, who had fought in the first battle of the war. Who had been thrown into a pit for execution, and blasted her way out like a warrior. Now, she was in a whole new type of pit, instead of fighting starved beasts, she was now fighting numerous senators who seemed content to throw out any shred of decency in favor of war.

You watched as the senator from Corellia made their argument, that they needed to cut off relief aid funding in favor of the cloning facilities. Just two weeks in, and the need for more clones was already apparent. In the seat in front of you, you watched Padmé stiffen at the way the other senator implied that ‘lesser’ worlds needed to help themselves before asking the Republic for aid. She was raring for a fight, and fight she did.

You never got tired of watching Padmé put someone in place with a few carefully chosen words. Never tired of the way she fought for others…even if it didn’t always work in the end.

“Motion passed,” came Chancellor Palpatine’s voice.

You closed your eyes with the smallest sigh, knowing that even more suffering would come to pass now. At least this was only a motion to start talking about cutting funding. Padmé would do everything she could to make sure the next bill was as fair as she could manage.

When the sound that indicated the end of the day’s session rang through the chamber, you almost slumped with relief. You didn’t of course, no handmaiden ever lost her composure under the watchful eye of the senate. But you were glad that it was finally time to return to your lady’s office. A headache was coming on strong.

Padmé had more grace than to storm out of the chamber like a woman on a war path, but your trained eye could see she was exactly that as she walked calmly out into the hall. She didn’t try to hide her expressions nearly as much now, her queen persona having faded quite a lot in the passing years, but she still knew the value of looking calm to her colleagues.

The hallways were a buzz with activity, aids and senators alike calling for associates and running here and there for their next task. That, and it was filled with the sounds of armored boots.

As you and the Naboo guards followed Padmé, several groups of the new clone trooper units passed by. All of it was still a little disconcerting, having such heavily armed men tramping around. It brought back memories, wounds a decade old still felt fresh as the sound of marching feet reminded you of droids taking over Theed.

You were proud that you had fought for your home world all those years ago, fought the Trade Federation (who now were now ironically a head of the Separatists) and took back your planet and your people. But that didn’t mean the battle was easy.

And these men, these soldiers bred for war, would see far worse in the coming days.

It might be easy, to look at their identical armor and expressionless helmets, and see them as something akin to droids, but they weren’t. They were flesh and blood under all that plastoid and, while their new and overbearing presence may be unsettling for now, you refused to dehumanize them in your mind like that.

A call of your name drew your attention back to the present, just as Padmé reached the door to her office.

“I have that meeting with Bail and Mon in about an hour, but there’s still so much work to do,” she sighed as the door closed behind her, “I hate to ask, but-”

“I will stay here and file anything you need, my lady.” You had anticipated this, things were still adjusting to the new war-time normal, and Padmé’s workload was more overwhelming than ever, and that was saying something. To ensure she got any rest at all right now, you had to do much of the paperwork she would see to personally while the committees and meeting ate up her time.

She sighed with relief and gave you that small smile that always held her deepest affection. “Thank you, I’ll get a head start on it for you at least, since I still need you to research the Chabrill and Cordia incidences.”

And so the two of you got to work. Your first tasks were easy enough, you’d lost count of the number of info packs you’d written for her on import events over the years, and they were done by the time she and the guards left for that meeting. You stayed behind in the office, her atmosphere controlls set to play your favorite soothing sounds for white noise as you worked.

Padmé trusted you to answer most of her mail and requests the way she would and save the dire ones for her personal attention. You polished up and filed her pending motions, and a dozen other mundane things that made you want to pull your hair out despite your never waving composure. God, you hated politics sometimes. More or less than paperwork, you couldn’t say, but it was always a close running between the two.

You were just answering a far too flirtatious message from Senator Dobo and almost, almost, missed the way the sound of armored feet got louder just outside the door.

Eyes flashed up to the entrance, just as it was slid open without so much as a knock.

Three clone troopers came charging in as you jumped to your feet behind the desk.

“What is the meaning of this?” you demanded in a cool tone, hands slipping into the sleeves of your tunic in a neutral dignified posture. “Troopers are not permitted in here without permission.”

“Are you Senator Amidala?” The one in front asked, tone clipped, not the monotone you had heard a few clones use over the past weeks.

“I am her aid, and I demand you answer my question, trooper.”

You saw it, the barely-there way his shoulders stiffen, before he clasped his hands behind his back, and feel the eyes behind the visor bore into you.

“We need to see the senator immediately, we’ve received intelligence that there’s been a threat made on her life.”

…Oh, was that all? You almost laughed. Though you did appreciate the man’s obvious dedication to his job.

Your eyes took in the freshly painted red on the white armor, having heard that the higher ranks of clones had adopted the marking to indicate their legions and ranks. This one had the vaguely sword-like symbol of Coruscant emblazoned boldly on his chest, while the two at attention behind him had simpler red markings.

“You must be the new Commander of the Coruscant Guard,” you said.

“I am.”

“Then, Commander, you will soon learn that there is always a threat made on Senator Amidala’s life. It comes hand in hand with her tendency to put dangerous people in their place.”

Again your keen eyes picked up on the tightening of his arms, so subtle under the armor even you almost missed it. One talent you’d learned in the Naboo royal court, was reading body language, especially the body language of those who always hid theirs. It was an even more useful skill in your new position, though you’d never thought to use it on these men. The clone was either shocked at the candor in which you spoke about the danger, or annoyed with how you were talking to him. Maybe both.

“All the same,” his tone was measured now, but you heard the hint of gritted teeth behind the polite words, “I must speak with Amidala about the threat. Personally.”

Had you not been schooling your expression like you always did here, you would have raised your eyebrows at him. You weren’t annoyed, not really, in fact, you found the way he stood his ground almost admirable. He cared about his job but…maybe it was more than that. Maybe he cared about the safety of others on a more personal level. You weren’t sure yet, but, the commander had made his way onto your list of potential allies, one you may pursue in the future.

If he was annoyed with you, there was no need to vex him further. You gave a small, respectful incline of your head. “Very well, Commander. I will escort you to her.”

He did not thank you as you made your way around the desk and walked past them through the door, but he fell in step behind you without protest. You sent a quick message from your small wrist unit, using a code phrase that would warn Padmé to be alert.

You could practically feel the tension in the troopers behind you and normally, you would ignore it, but, if you were being honest, you liked the opportunity this gave you. To learn more about the men who were now protecting the senate.

“I did not catch your name, Commander,” you said, keeping your eyes forward.

“CC-1010.”

You actually faltered a little at that, “Excuse me?” This time you actually looked over your shoulder at him, and let your brow lift up in question. You didn’t miss the way his body shifted under your gaze.

“It’s the only name they gave me, ma’am.” His tone was just a notch lower now, another thing of note.

A number. A number, like a droid.

That didn’t sit well with you, not one bit, but, you supposed it was none of your business, for now. “I see,” you said after a moment, then turned your eyes back in front of you. “Well, Commander, if you ever decide to take another name, please do let me know.”

“I didn’t get your name either.”

You almost smiled at that, and gave him the name you had taken when you took on the role of handmaiden all those years ago. Very few people here on Coruscant knew your birth name, and none used it. The commander would have to become an extremely close friend to ever earn that honor.

A few minutes of silent walking passed before you finally reached Bail Organa’s office. To his credit, CC-10- ugh, no, you were not calling him that, even in your head, unless he asked you to. To his credit, the Commander listened to your advice when you asked him to ring the doorbell before barging in on a private meeting.

You graciously gave an apology for the interruption when the four of you entered, then swept out of the way as the clones gave their report to Amidala. Admittedly, the threat was not quite as laughable as you had first thought it was, but it was hardly the worst one Padmé had faced, even just in the last year. Apparently a small-time thug in the mid-rim thought he might ingratiate himself to the Trade Federation by ‘taking out’ their most hated senator. He couldn’t afford the prices of the Bounty Hunter Guild and so, had posted smaller sums of money for anyone to take should they manage the job.

Considering Padmé had survived actual guild level assassin’s for a few years now, you weren’t that concerned.

Still, you admired the troops doing their jobs to the letter, and your lady accepted the Commander’s advice of a personal Corrie Guard escort as a precaution for the coming days. It was hardly needed. You, Dormé, and Captain Typho had always been more than enough security, but, it made the clone Commander feel better, than it couldn’t hurt.

All in all the conversation was somewhat short, and soon enough the man took his leave, ordering the other two clones to stay behind with Amidala. After that, Bail, who was amused at Padmé collecting yet another enemy, said that the rest of their meeting could wait until next time. The senators bade each other a good night and you followed your lady out of the office along with the new red painted guards.

Neither of them had said a word this whole time, but you supposed that was their right. That didn’t stop Typho from giving the clones a run down of how his guard details worked, and how he wanted the clones to integrate into that routine.

As they talked, Padmé fell back to meet your steps. “So, you’ve met the Commander of the new Coruscant Guard,” she started, tone quiet so no one would overhear you. “Did you talk to him at all while escorting him?”

“A little, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist.”

“And? What’s your opinion of him so far? Besides his lack of extroverted tendencies, that is.”

You felt the urge to bite your lip. Overall, you hadn’t spent enough time to get a decent read on him yet, but it was still odd how much of a blank slate you were drawing when thinking up your opinion. Maybe it was his armor and helmet, how not seeing his face made it harder to gauge his reactions and thoughts. Or maybe, he was almost as good as the handmaidens when it came to hiding himself through stoicism.

The fact that you couldn’t decide which was more likely annoyed you a little.

“Honestly? I’m…not sure what I think of him yet.”

That sentiment continued over the following week. You hadn’t expected to see the man in red quite so soon, after scheduling shifts for his men to rotate in and out of Padmé’s service, you had assumed he would move on to other tasks and concerns.

So, imagine your surprise when you found yourself once again in the Commander’s company without Padmé.

Once again you were in her office, working on her latest project while she and Dormé attended a charity dinner, when there was a chime indicating someone at the door. Your eyes needed a break in any case, so you pulled yourself out of your favorite armchair and rubbed your eyes as you walked to the door. Then, you felt your interest piqued when you checked the security cam and saw that red and white helmet staring expectantly at the lens. Well, at least he knocked this time. He should be glad of that for his own sake, as you were in no mood for rudeness tonight.

After straightening your back and putting on that stoic mask, you opened the door. “Good evening, Commander, what may I help you with?”

“May I speak with the Senator?”

“I’m afraid she’s out for the evening, but I should be able to help with whatever you need.”

“Very well,” He reached behind him and slid a datapad from a pouch on his belt. “I’ve reviewed the Senator’s security details based on reports my men have given me. I have some changes I’d like to make.”

A sarcastic, ‘oh you do, do you?’ almost left your mouth, but you held it in, you really must be well past tired now. He held the data pad out to you and you began reading it before you even took it in hand.

“Please, come in,” you offered with a wave, “take a seat if you’d like.” You had a feeling this was going to be a long back and forth.

He said a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” as he stepped in, but did not even glance at the various chairs in the room, opting instead to stand at attention in the center of it all.

“She won’t agree to this,” you concluded after a moment, not having even scrolled halfway through the document. “She would be appalled by the mere idea of you searching her staff’s rooms without probable cause.” Another tap on the screen. “She’d also deny the proposal to lengthen guard shifts, she tries to keep them down to 7 hours to avoid stress and,” you almost laughed at this one, “and she has never allowed guards to stay in her room at night.”

“My men would never do anything inappropriate-”

“I did not say they would,” you assured with a raise of your hand, “Amidala doesn’t even let handmaidens such as myself stay in her room anymore, it’s nothing personal.” The last thing anyone needed was a corrie guard to shoot Skywalker the next time he thought he was sneaking into her room unnoticed.

The clone was silent for just a moment, his unreadable visor trained on you as you stared back. “Are there any of my suggestions that meet your approval?”

You didn’t know if he meant to say ‘her’ and mentioned you by mistake, or if he thought that you were making it your personal mission to thwart him at every turn. He meant well, you knew that, but you could picture exactly how the conversation would go if you gave this over for her to review, and you respected his time too much to waste it.

“How about this, Commander, would you allow me to tweak these suggestions into ones my lady will consider? I will try my best to keep the heart of them intact for you.”

He shifted on his feet a little, before clasping his hands behind his back. A faint crackle of his vocator said that he might have been holding in a sigh. “I suppose that’s an agreeable compromise.”

A part of you had hoped for a thank you, after all, you were taking time out of your already heavy workload to help, but you supposed the polite nod of his helmet would do. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get comfortable in your oversized chair with him standing there like a tall armored gargoyle, so instead you sat at Padmé’s desk and began typing.

Looking back, you probably should have read the whole proposal through the first time, if you had, the last bit of it wouldn't have come as such a shock.

“I’m a subject of one of your new plans?” you asked, looking up at him and allowing just a sprinkle of incredulity onto your expression.

“Yes.”

“Care to explain why I need a clone guard of my own?”

A slight roll of his shoulders, arms still behind his back. “I researched you. You’ve been in the Senator’s employ since before she came here.”

“I have.”

“And you don’t live in the senatorial apartments like the other staff. You live alone.”

“I do.”

He was silent, which only made your annoyance flare.

“And?” it came out far more snapping than you’d meant it to, and immediately you reeled the annoyance back in. Then, much more kindly, you added, “Please, Commander, speak your mind with me.”

At that, you noticed his shoulders actually lower just a bit, a controlled version of relaxing. “Isn’t it obvious? Your close relationship with the Senator makes you a target. If any of these thugs realized how close you are to her, they’d use you to get to her. I’ll have one of my troops escort you home every night and stand guard at your apartment to ensure your safety.”

Well, wasn’t that sweet.

In truth, his suggestion actually took you by surprise. You hadn’t thought much about what living alone for the first time in a decade might mean. The condo was a new gift from Padmé, a token of her ‘thanks’ for all your years of service, a chance to have something of your own since you had lived with her since the day you stepped foot in her palace. In truth, you knew it was a peace offering, she had to change so much of her life to accommodate that tempestuous young Jedi of hers now.

It didn’t matter that you knew the basics of their relationship, Padmé still couldn’t hold her handmaidens as close as she once did, or the secret of her marriage might be jeopardized. So she offered you your own space, your own home while she had to push you away. It had hurt, it still hurt a little, but you understood, and loved her too much to complain. She loved that Jedi and, if putting space between you and her was what she needed, then you would give it to her without question.

You hadn’t even had time to think about what living away from her might mean regarding safety.

“I’m very impressed with your work, Commander,” you admitted eventually. “You obviously take your role to heart and Amidala herself would appreciate your thoroughness. But, I promise you, there isn’t any need to waste one of your men on me. I can take care of myself.”

“I disagree.”

The annoyance came back with a vengeance- how dare he assume that-!

“Disagree about there not being a need, ma’am,” he quickly amended, and you realized your anger must have flashed across your face. “I don’t know what your personal training has been like, but all the same, my men are trained to protect and serve. Let them do their jobs.”

You allowed yourself a calming sigh. For all his stiffness, he really was trying to be polite and you supposed you could tap into your inner politician for him.

“Please take a seat, Commander, I see no reason for you not to be comfortable while we hash this out.”

It had been nearly a month since he, the head of the Coruscant Guard, warned that senator about the threat on her life, and the way she made no changes to her daily routine was, frankly, starting to piss him off.

“What do you mean she’s still going to attend that rally!?” He hadn’t meant to yell, especially at the brother who had just gotten off a twelve hour watch shift outside Amidala’s residence. But damn it, was he annoyed.

At least the trooper didn’t seem shaken, “Sir, I expressed my concern, but she just reiterated that-”

“That ‘no one is going to scare me into hiding’ right right, so she’s said,” the Commander finished, having heard that same line several times from the woman- and her bossy little handmaiden, over the last month. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, mind wandering over the dozens of security weaknesses this rally was sure to have. Why was it so damn important that she make some speech at a gathering for- kriff, he didn’t even remember what the topic was. Not that it mattered in the end. He was quickly realizing that this willful senator was going to give him endless migraines.

“Perhaps, assigning more troops to her will help, sir?” the shinny offered, obviously trying his best to help.

“No, we’re already stretched thin, even if I hadn’t made up the schedules for the week.” At least he managed to sound less grumpy that time, it wasn’t the kid’s fault that his new job wasn’t what he’d expected. He thought he’d be out putting blaster holes in droids right now, freeing innocent civies from seppie control in a blaze of glory. Instead, he was bowing to the simpering pleas of the chancellor and corralling feral senators like cadets in their first shooting lesson.

Alright, maybe ‘feral’ was a little harsh for Amidala, and her bossy aid. Truthfully, despite their tendencies to brush off his concerns, they at least showed some respect to him and his men, more than a lot of the politicians in the building. Not that it was his place to care about said things in the first place, he had to follow orders no matter who treated him in whatever way.

He let out a sigh. “I’ll escort her personally,” he eventually concluded.

It was the best answer, he could put off reports or the couple of hours the rally took, and his skills were more finely honed than a majority of his men, meaning he’d more than enough.

“Dismissed, trooper, you’re off duty.”

An attentive ‘yes, sir!’ followed that, with the familiar sound of armored feet marching out his office door. The Commander rolled his shoulders and picked up his personal data pad to double check Amidala’s schedule. He’d have to let Thorn know he wasn’t going to be in during that time slot, and ask him to take on any in-house emergencies, but, other than that, it shouldn’t be an issue.

This was going to be an interesting day.

About two hours later, his shuttle was landing on the platform outside Amidala’s residence. Always vigilant, he was greeted by her personal guard dressed in traditional Naboo attire- how nat-borns felt safe wearing nothing but cloth, he’d never know.

“Commander,” Typho, the captain of her guard, greeted, “what brings you here this time?”

“I was informed of the Senator’s plans to attend that rally,” despite my warnings and advice, “I’m here as extra security,” since, apparently, I care more about her safety than she does!

Typho smirked, the skin near his roguish eye patch crinkling, “If you insist, though, if you have more important duties to tend to, I assure you, we have everything under control.”

“If my other duties were an issue, I wouldn't be here.” The words came out more flatly than he’d intended, but Typho didn’t seem bothered as he led him through the transparisteel doors into the apartment proper.

As always there were aids and household staff running about, along with that gold protocol droid who seemed to find something to fret and cry about at all hours, according to his men. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in the residence himself in the last month and, just when a particular handmaiden came striding out of the bedroom chamber with that cool collected expression, the memory of the previous time came flooding back.

Not many people stood their ground against a man like him, but you seemed to do it as if it were nothing. He had been demanding to see Amidala, to update her on his latest information regarding the mercenaries, but you had planted yourself between him and her door like a statue. He still remembered that blank stare you gave him, that told him everything and nothing at the same time- that somehow said a rude ‘take a hike, boy’ and a polite ‘the senator will answer your concerns at a later date’ simultaneously. It was only when he had made to shove past you a third time that you told him why he couldn’t go inside yet. Honestly, if you had just said that Amidala was undressed in the first place, he would have understood! He wasn’t that unfamiliar with nat-borns and their boundaries.

Standing in the same room again now, he felt his face get a little warm at the memory, especially when you approached him.

“Good evening, Commander,” you greeted in that smooth, even tone of yours. “Senator Amidala is getting ready for the evening’s events, and wants me to thank you for your offer of extra security.”

How did she- how would you- how could either of you possibly know why he was here already? He recovered quickly enough, clasping his hands behind his back. “Just, doing my job, ma’am.”

“Would you like anything while you wait? Something to drink perhaps? Or…a lengthy report on the event hall and its security weaknesses?”

He blinked behind his helmet, unable to tell if you were joking. Ever since that late night of debating security in Amidala’s office, you seemed a little less careful with your words when talking to him. Even if he still couldn’t always discern their actual meaning.

That was another thing about you that he noticed, his own inability to puzzle you out sometimes. One moment you were all bossy, demanding answers and actions out of him in a cooler tone than most of his COs, the next you were rather pleasant, all respectful nods and considerate questions. Like asking about his name. His name, you were the first nat-born to ever ask him if he even had one.

Even after these little encounters, he still couldn’t quite figure you out, and it was honestly starting to annoy him a little.

“I already did thorough research on the venue, so there’s no need for that,” was the answer he finally settled on.

There was that polite bow of your head again, “Of course, Commander.”

“Fox.”

He almost saw your face twitch in confusion as you looked back up at him. “Pardon?”

“You said that if I ever chose another name, to tell you. I’m Commander Fox now.”

There was the smallest little lift at the corner of your mouth. “Then, I am pleased to reacquaint myself with your name, Commander Fox.”

Fox wasn’t sure if that was some particular Naboo saying or not, but he didn’t have time to wonder as Amidala came striding out of the bedchamber. Fox snapped back to attention fast, and put everything except for protocol out of his thoughts as the evening went on.

All in all, the rally had gone… well.

Fox stood on the sidelines, scanning the perimeter, repeatedly checking the entry points, and when Amidala gave her speech he made sure no one got even an arm’s length from the podium. You and the other handmaidens were at the woman’s side the whole time, never wavering, always at attention, always watching. Seeing all four women together for the first time, and noting how they positioned themselves around the Senator, made him realize something.

When the handmaidens moved together, they used a formation that he and his men often did. A military formation. He’d recognize it anywhere, even if the bodies were swathed in velvety cloth instead of hard armor and the hands were tucked into sleeves instead of gripping blasters. Maybe he had more to learn about the training nat-borns went through on various planets.

Oh and…had he said the rally went well? There was an amendment to that: it went well until it all went to shit.

The meeting was over and Fox waved for the senator’s group to follow him through the back room of the venue, to where the transport was waiting outside. His eyes were keen, as always, watching, searching, but even when he didn’t spot anything, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

His fingers were just about to open the door to the outside landing pad, when your voice called out behind him. He turned and saw your brows pinched together as you pressed your finger to your ear.

“I’m not getting a response from our driver,” you said, “I think somethi-”

He saw your eyes go wide in shock before he registered the door sliding open behind him. Fox’s body was turning on instinct, but he thought he saw a flash of silver being pulled from the velvet of your sleeve before he came face to face with a thug lifting a rifle.

Hands went to his pistols a second before the goon fired, but it was still too slow- until the thug got hit square in the chest from shot fired somewhere behind Fox. That left the Commander free to fire at the two others who where closing in on the door. The second they fell he slammed his elbow on the control panel, eyes darting across the platform to assess, even as the door slid shut.

Another punch with his hand and the door resealed itself, but it wouldn’t hold them for long.

“I counted five,” there was your voice again, as you crouched opposite him of the entrance, holding a elegant silver blaster at the ready, “five, besides the ones we already stunned.”

“Obviously they thought they could overwhelm us with numbers instead of skill,” he heard Amidala say, completely surrounded by her guards and other handmaidens, all with blasters in hand.

“This door won’t hold them for long,” Fox could already hear shouts and feet closing in.

That’s when he saw a mischievous kind of determination glimmer in your eyes. “Commander, if they want to trap themselves on that small platform while we hold a choke point, I say: let them.”

Despite himself, Fox smirked behind his helmet. He liked the way you thought.

“We’ll watch your back,” Typho offered, signaling his own guards to cover the only other door in the room.

“I take the left, you right?” you asked, face set, ready.

Fox gave you a second’s long look, and nodded, before he opened the door.

The moment it hissed open there was chaos. Thankfully, the idiots on the other side couldn’t aim worth a shit. Fox had to trust that you could cover the left, which was, admittedly, not easy for him, but you had been quick enough to shoot the first gunman over his shoulder, and that gave him a little confidence.

Instead, Fox made himself focus on the two who had been trying to get the door open, their closeness making them easy pickings. Later, he might actually laugh at the sheer lack of skill and coordination the group had. He couldn't laugh, though, idiots with guns were their own kind of dangerous and he shouldn't underestimate that.

“Fox, straight ahead!” he heard you shout over the blasterfire, just as his second target fell.

He looked up and saw a mountain sized lassat, charging at the door with a riot shield in hand, taking all their blaster shot. With barely enough time to dive out of the way, Fox didn’t even see that you had jumped up to grab a shelving unit beside the door.

Your timing was perfect.

The lassat had just barely cleared the door as you pulled on the shelf and sent it slamming into his side, the shield falling useless from his grasp. It wasn’t quite enough to fell the large man, though, and Fox- as well as the other handmaidens in the room, opened fire as the enemy rounded on you with a shout. You ducked under his large fist as the first volley of stun bolts hit him.

By Fox’s count, it took 17 shots to bring him down, and when he fell it was with a resounding thud.

Everyone held their breath for a moment, heart beat thudding in his ears. Not another shot sounded, even as you moved to sweep the doorway one last time. When you confirmed that all was clear, the room breathed again.

Fox was just about to clamber to his feet, when you walked up and extended your hand. “Are you alright, Commander?”

He grunted in reply, taking your offered hand, and felt a jolt of surprise when you hauled him up with almost no effort. A quick scan of your body assured him that you hadn’t been hit, so he turned to the room at large.

“Is everyone else alright?” Fox asked, just as he heard sirens closing in.

“We’re fine,” Amidala announced with pride, “it takes far more than a few would-be bandits to shake us, Fox.”

“Our driver was finally able to reach us,” Typho interjected, “she managed to escape their ambush and call for back up.”

That explained the sirens. Fox pulled out the wrist binders from his belt pouch and knelt to cuff the lassat. He would have to give his report to the others when they landed, but, before they did, he had one other duty to tend to.

He straightened up, standing practically chest to chest with you as you finally relaxed and lowered your blaster. Fox liked your fire, and hadn’t misplaced his trust when he let you help him. Honestly, if today was any indicator, he’d be proud to fight beside you any day. But, rules were rules.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” his hand shot out to snatch your blaster before you could react, “but you’re in violation of code 187-24.”

“E-excuse me?!”

Fox had never seen a strong emotion on your face to date, so the look of completely anger and incredulity that crossed your face almost made him laugh.

He pushed the thought away as he waved his hands at the other handmaidens, “Neither you, or any of them are registered as personal guards in our records. Under the new Coruscant Guard Regulations, aids are not permitted to carry firearms. Now, given the newness of the codes, I can let all of you off with a warning, but this is a serious violation and further investigation may be needed.”

“Now wait just a moment, Commander!” Amidala said through her teeth as she rushed forward.

Quite a bit of squabbling now mixed with the sounds of sirens, all of it giving Fox a headache. He sighed through he helmet, honestly, he was just doing his job.

And, it was only because he was nice that he wasn’t forcing you into cuffs right there. But no one thought of that while he cleaned up this mess- the mess that also could have been avoid, had everyone just listened to him in the first place!

No one ever listened to Fox.

You should definitely be thanking him for not arresting you.

Tag list: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @lightwise

#commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #so nervous about this and IDK why #Fox has been hard to write but I'm nervous about how i did!#clone x reader #clone wars reader insert #star wars reader insert #series: the handmaiden's fox #deeja writes

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siskiyn · 8 months

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so yeah a couple weeks ago i started playing neopets again after 13+? years. i'm over here making a discount dnd party with names like these. i kinda like it though..... my oc brain is stirring after a long, long time. like i want them to be a crew. the found family trope incarnate. ride-or-die. i have no idea what colors i want these babies to be but i'm MOTIVATED. there are so many new paint brush / colors to consider too, i am actually having a blast over here making goals to reach & learning stuff i never ever bothered with in the past.

(please join me)

ONTO THE PETS + OC BRAINSTORMING

MALFEEN thinking wraith for Malfeen, first. he's becoming my battledome pet! something badass and/or eternal looking. that's all really. eventide zafara could be ok too with some customization. he look a little too unimposing with those eyes. something about wraith though OOH i want one.

VHAMPIRR Vhampirr has GOT to change species and color, grundos gotta be the UGLIEST mfers out in neopia i'm sorry. Vhamp's gonna be the leader because i rescued him from the pound first and ngl it was exciting. teenaged sisk never found anything good while pound surfing. now i don't even know how many painted pets i've seen in there. the satisfaction is astronomical.

anyways i don't wanna be too derivative with a name like Vhampirr but then again cringe is dead, he could be some cool undead mfer. i'm thinking darigan? (once a darigan fan always a darigan fan.) there are many good species options something about darigan xweetok makes me wanna punch it (lovingly). he looks like he'd make fun of you and be camp as hell. he looks like he gets a new piecing every time he's depressed because he finds it quite bracing and rejuvenating, actually.

OAXUN Oaxun is the only pet i made from scratch, in homage to an old pet from an old account (rip). the rest are pound finds. at first i was thinking making her into a little baby eyrie. babygirl of the party who everyone dotes on, receives the chaotic parenting of the whole gang. but man i love eyries a lot & with a name like Oaxun i feel like a material color like maractite, water or relic would be soo fitting. i'm less and less attached to baby the longer i think on it tbh.

GRIMSVONTE literally just adopted this dude tonight. idk if i'll keep him but i think royalboy or something fancy like that would match the name. he could be that escort mission tag-along that you absolutely suffer through. Grimsvonte hahaha... royalboy gelert got me fucked up with the bowl cut hair. it's giving trust fund kid, Grimsvonte the 3rd... it's giving "mother father i'm off on a harrowing adventure don't look for me". idk it could be comedy gold!!

not many of the royals appeal to me although royalboy peophin is kinda hot? Hot Middle-aged Grimsvonte?? no i'm not accepting comments. just think about it.

& that's it!!! well i have a baby kougra pound rescue but *covers his ears* i don't really like him or his ugly ass name. i think i'm overly attached to baby neopets due to Nostalgia only. they're relatively cheap to get too. i don't know! can you feel the vibe of this group so far? the vision?? if i do get a baby neopet it'll prolly be a more thoughtful addition. maybe one of the above will magically turn into a single parent. like, say... baby peophin for daddy Grimsvonte? (i know you agree. you agree with me right. look at them together.)

#neopets #*crying* why was this so fun #cringe is so dead #sisk's neopets adventures

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sarahjswift · 1 year

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Twin Wounds Chapter 7

Don't hate me!! I know it's been a while since Twin Wounds have been updated but I was kind of at a loss for what to write. Then I started my new fanfic and I got inspo for this one lol

Warnings: Language, Verbal Abuse/Manipulation, Mentions of Eating Disorders

Word Count: 1.3k

Tag List <3: @backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @blue-bird17, @renxzs, and new member *drumroll*...@autumnbabylon! tysm <3

Okay, I hope you enjoy this episode! IWHAIWSA update coming soon :D

Three weeks after Aelin arrived at the Center, Rowan had only just seen her eat more than a small portion of food.

He watched her eat - slowly but surely - a tray of mashed potatoes and fried chicken. Honestly, it looked pretty terrible, but he was just happy to see her eating.

“This is amazing,” Eillia breathed beside him. As the nurse mainly stationed to Aelin, she’d voiced her concerns on Aelin’s food intake over these few weeks. After scheduling Aelin for some physical activities, she was finally hungry enough to eat.

“You were right. Thank you, Rowan.” Eillia’s eyes were wet as she turned to the therapist, squeezing his arm. Rowan’s calculations had been correct - Aelin wasn’t trying to starve herself, she just didn’t have an appetite. After enough physical strain, she would finally regain that.

“But - how did you know this wasn’t a case of an ED?” the nurse asked, frowning.

Rowan looked at the beautiful woman sipping from a milk carton and smiled slightly. “I once felt that way.”

___

“I cannot believe you,” Aelin grumbled into the phone. Her cousin’s laugh sounded through the receiver, and she glared at the wall.

Aedion still hadn’t picked her up, no matter that he’d said two weeks here and she’d be done. His feeble excuse, made a week ago, still rang in her mind - “I’m sorry, Ae. I just…you sound so much better. A few more weeks? Please?”

“Chill, cousin.” Aelin couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sound of laughter in her cousin’s voice. She hadn’t heard that - at least around her - in a year. “I’m coming to visit tomorrow.”

Aelin almost dropped the phone. “What?? You are?”

“Yeah, I figured I’d drop by.”

Her joy over her cousin coming was quickly replaced with anger. “What, so you could’ve come to visit me this whole time and you just decided not to? What the fuck??”

Aedion gave a long-suffering sigh that made Aelin grind her teeth. “Yes, I could’ve, but I wanted you to adjust - give you time to make some friends.”

“I’m not your fucking kid, Aedion. I don’t need your help making friends!”

“Well, it’s also a long drive away from my house!”

“Ah yes, one long suffering hour away from your fucking mansion. I guess one hour is too far to see your cousin who is fucking stuck in a rehab center!”

“Alright, cool it on the cursing.” Aelin snorted - he was one to talk. “I’m sorry. It was shitty. But I’m excited to see you?”

The nervousness of the last sentence made her heart soften - ever so slightly - and she loosed a breath and leaned against the wall. “Yeah, okay. That’ll be nice. And by the way…I have made some friends.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Well, I go everywhere with my therapy group - like we go to lunch together, yoga, outside and shit. So it’s kind of hard to not..make friends. I’m closest to these two women, Lysandra and Elide. Selmer and Luca are both nice but they mostly hang out with Tiela, who…kind of hates me.”

“Why - do I even want to know?”

“Shut up, asshat.” Aedion laughed, and Aelin smiled too. Time to give her cousin all of the pretty little details.

___

“How are things with Remelle?”

Rowan shot his friend a look. Lorcan was deadlifting 500 pounds, and he gave a dark grin, his face red from exertion.

“Fine,” Rowan gritted out. He was rowing 3,000 meters on the rowing machine, an exhausting workout.

“Who is Remelle?” Fenrys gasped with delight. He had finished his workout and was stretching in the corner. The three men were in their usual spot at their gym that everyone knew was theirs. Even the strongest clients didn’t use their claimed spots.

“This bitch Rowan’s sleeping with,” Lorcan informed him, doing another set of lifting.

Rowan paused his rowing and glared at him. “That’s such a terrible thing to say, first of all. Don’t say bitch when describing a woman, please.”

“Yeah, that’s lame, man,” Fenrys echoed, frowning. Lorcan shrugged, keeping his eyes over their heads. “Rowan, you give me the details.”

Rowan sighed and glanced at his meter: 2,834 miles. That would have to do. He walked over to a bench, legs trembling, and collapsed. After gulping down some water, he began to fill Fenrys in.

After he was done, Fenrys looked disturbed, not delighted like he usually was. “Rowan, my dude,” he began. “This girl sounds..not great.”

“Ah-ha! That’s what I said!” Lorcan near-shouted, grinning. He had finished his workout and was currently unloading the weights from his bar.

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. Lorcan he didn’t care about, but Fenrys? The man knew how a woman’s mind worked, a skill Rowan wished he acquired himself. “Is she really that bad?” he asked weakly, hating the babish pain in his voice.

His friends must have heard it too, as their faces softened and they sat on either side of him. “Look,” Fenrys began, then hesitated. “I know you’ve only had short flings since..”

Rowan felt his stomach empty out and a small ringing sound began screaming in his ear. He could feel his hands tremble and he squeezed them together, trying to focus on Fenrys’ words.

“...since, you know. And that’s totally fine - they were harmless. But this? This doesn’t feel good for you, for your health and your wallet.”

Rowan looked at his friends and nodded slowly. “All right. I’ll break it off.”

___

Me: Hey, can we talk?

Remelle: my shift isn’t over for 3 hrs can u just text?

Me: I can wait

Me: That sounded weird I’m not going to kill you it’s just important

Remelle: k c u there babes. Kisses

Me: Uh, kisses

Remelle: old man lmao

___

It was eleven at night, and Rowan was pacing in a deserted parking lot. Not the way he wanted to spend the night, but oh well.

He loosed a sigh of relief as he spotted Remelle strutting toward him, in her usual outfit. She giggled when she saw him, skipping up to him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Hi muscles,” she said sweetly, batting her lashes. “What brings you here this fine evening?”

Rowan attempted a smile - but from Remelle’s expression, it was probably more of a grimace. “I wanted to talk.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, obvi. What’s up?”

Rowan hesitated. He fucking hated this part. “I..I don’t think this is working.”

Remelle sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back from him. He didn’t dare look up to see her expression, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he hastily continued. “I-I really do like you but I don’t think this relationship is healthy for either of us-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Remelle interrupted. “Relationship?” She let out a laugh. “Oh my Gods, who told you that we’re in a relationship? This was nothing more than release for me.”

Rowan felt mortification burn through him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. I just, I don’t think me giving you money is appropriate-”

“Oh my fucking Gods!” Remelle’s voice was shrill. “I’m a student! You’ve got a ton of money - honestly, that’s really shitty of you to say that. You think because you’ve given me money you own me?”

Rowan coughed, his face burning, and he started as Remelle grabbed his face and forced him to meet her gaze. Her face was twisted with hate, and he felt his chest grow tight as her grip on his face tightened to the point of pain. “You,” she snarled, drawing her nails down his cheeks, “are such a piece of shit.”

“I-I know…I’m so sorry.” He felt nothing but shame now, shame and misery and she held him in a chokehold. At his words, she released him and he wheeled back.

“It’s okay, Muscles. I forgive you,” she said sweetly, the beauty returning to her face. He felt relief at her words; She forgave me. It’s okay, she’s not mad anymore.

Remelle hugged him, kissing him deeply. “C’mon. Let’s go find your car.”

#sarah j maas #throne of glass #fanfic #rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn

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crxxentum · 2 years

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This book is a nightmare. It's so succulent, I hate it. I would absolutely read it again. There are multiple spelling mistakes in this with fuck knows how much bullshit grammar I neglected to pick up on during my rabid binge read of this fuckfest of a book. Nora Sakavic made it abundantly clear in the first book that she does whatever the fuck she wants. There is zero scientific accuracy, Andrews psychosis(?) the the most confusing thing ever, I have never been more confused over a sport than I have with Exy, I have never related more to someone so done with everyone and everything than all the characters in this book series. Sakavic - with ease - shows us she has no idea about sports, gangs, drugs, the yakuza, the mafia, queer assholes, not queer assholes, trauma related mental health, long term affects of bodily harm(aka overtraining syndrome), I mean how the fuck do they not have a physiotherapist on call, and how sport teams function. I mean, c'mon, how do these losers manage to play when they're so splintered, it's a Christmas miracle. But it's not Christmas, and it's something Nostradamus would have predicted in 1500 but everyone would of dismissed him because of how stupid it sounds. This creates a cringe worthy, wattpad-esk, insane YA novel of a book - half the time I was trying to figure out what the fuck Exy was. The respect I have for Nora to make a whole new sport because she couldn't be bothered to learn the rules of lacrosse - is undying. As is my hate for her, because what the fuck.

How a team of such dysfunctional losers ever managed to outplay another group of somehow more dysfunctional losers is beyond me. Purely think Neil should have joined the Ravens if only because I would enjoy his suffering. Also Jean and Neil are interesting. I wanted more of them. The ravens seem like hell, but so do the foxes.

In any case, I hate this mess of a book. Five stars, because all these losers are my children. Kevin? I picked him up from the trash. Allison and Reene? I would of picked them up from the trash but I value my life. Andrew is someone I am 90% sure I could take on, because, I too, am a psychotic midget. How one tiny bitch kept both Kevin and Neil alive is the most unrealistic part of this story because I know for a fact he'd have more problems keeping them from killing themselves through ways of eating raw cookie dough too much than keeping them from their insane families.

I almost shed tears over Riko, you poor child, let me make you soup. You don't deserve a terrible life. Jean??? French fuck. I love him. He is the reason I hate Riko but also I can't, Jean deserves better and therapy. I will teach this absolute losers what lacrosse(Exy, whatever.) is all about. The key point is that it is not life and death, unless you're stupid. But they are stupid. What mafia sells their child info fucking lacrosse from Walmart?? I threw my messy hair into a bun and got sold to play Exy by my parents??? I'd die. I hate this series. Where is my fan content. Give me the ao3 tags for this cluster fuck of a novel series. I love this series with my whole heart, I hate it. Don't read it, but do.

I love it.

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popculty · 6 months

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🎧 New Podcast Episode: Midsommar

After a little unplanned hiatus, we're back with Part 2 of our Halloween crossover event! And, well, Carver and I really put the 'cult' in Popculty with this one, because we are talking Midsommar! (one film by a straight white guy we maybe actually liked??)

In this episode:

Final Girls

exploring grief through horror

good for her (?)

the dark history of dance marathons

Florence Pugh supremacy

Because Flo said, "It's the Year of Dani, bbs" and we mere mortal podcasters follow our May Queen! 🙌🌻👑

Listen now 🎧

Or read the interactive transcript below 👇

SJ: All right, Carver, the time has come-- Gonna talk about Midsommar. There's, like, no summary for this movie. [both laugh] Like, nothing happens! I don't know what to tell you listeners, if you haven't seen it. But basically, it's about Florence Pugh's character, Dani, who has just suffered an incredible loss. She has just lost her sister and her parents to a murder-suicide situation, that's, right off the bat, very intense, very triggering. I would say that's a big trigger warning. She is grieving that, and she has the shittiest boyfriend in the world. Oh my God, Christian suuuuuuuucks.

Carver: Mm-hmm. [laughs]

SJ: He just wants her to get over it and be fine. And he and his friends, who are all working on their masters project, want to go to Sweden to study this, basically, cult-- this commune in rural Sweden at the peak of summer, for the summer solstice. They have this whole ritual and all these customs that this group of college students wants to go and study, and Dani decides to tag along, and...weird shit ensues! [both laugh] That is Midsommar. Like I say, trigger warnings definitely for suicide...um, group sex with a girl of questionable age, I will say...

Carver: Mhm.

SJ: What else? Lots of suicide. Very unpleasant, very unsettling scenes of suicide. Can't emphasize that enough.

Carver: Yes.

SJ: Anything you wanted to add to that?

Carver: That's mostly it. Uh, I mean, also the ableism that we were talking about in Hereditary? Just go ahead and dial that up to eleven.

SJ: Oh, yeah. However, contrary to Hereditary, I really love this movie. I watched it for the first time in theaters and I was like, "Huh. That was interesting. What did I just watch?" It's like two and a half hours of a Swedish folk festival with very disturbing undercurrents. I went for Florence Pugh, which, I mean-- the Pugh in this movie is off the charts amazing. I basically went for her because I had seen her in her first movie, Lady Macbeth. Didn't know what I was getting into. Came away just being like, "I think I liked it ? But I didn't get it at all." And I recently rewatched it at the beginning of this year after I had suffered a loss. And I, for some reason found myself drawn to rewatch this movie. And I have to say it was so cathartic. It really felt like being held in my grief. So that's why I messaged you after I watched it, because I just felt like I finally understood the movie and I appreciated what it had done for me through that viewing experience. That's why I suggested it and why I kind of just, on a whim, was like, "Let's talk about Midsommar. I don't care if it's directed by a white guy!" Because it really moved me. They say what you come to a movie with often affects what you get out of the movie. And I very much had that experience with Midsommar. So that's sort of my context. It just clicked for me this time. What is your experience with this movie?

Carver: I also saw it in theaters right when it came out. I think I saw it if not opening day, I saw it opening week, because at the time, I was very impressed by Hereditary. I think now it's easy to see it as a drop in the bucket of these think-piece horror films. But at the time that it came out, it was really something that we weren't seeing a ton of. So I had been anticipating this movie. I had seen the trailers. I was ready for it. Um, that opening scene, as someone who has witnessed suicide attempts by loved ones, was so hard that I nearly left. At the scene where you see the sister, I was like, internally, 'Do I get up now and go?' And I think it is a testament to the movie that I did stay and that I was able to enjoy it, even if I was in a state of panic for most of it. Coming back to rewatch it, I didn't realize how adverse I was to rewatching it originally. I actually have been trying to watch this movie every night since you and I recorded last, and I was not able to make myself rewatch it until this morning.

SJ: Oh, really? Oh my god, you watched it this morning?

Carver: Yes.

SJ: Oh no, you didn't have to put yourself through that! I'm sorry!

Carver: I don't even think I realized it. It was just, 'Oh, you know, it's just not the time. It's not the time.' And rewatching it, knowing what happens did make it a lot easier. I think I also was able to notice a lot more in that scene, that really takes the story full circle.

SJ: Yes.

Carver: And I still really enjoy it. All of the elements of grief are there. Uh, the thing that gets to me most is what you were talking about earlier: Christian is such a bad boyfriend.

SJ: He's the worst! But not in a super obvious way, right? Not in the typical way we see abusive boyfriends, but he is so neglectful, does not care about what she's going through. He is surrounded by friends that are pretty shitty too, who are like, "Oh, just break up with her and find someone who actually likes sex." His dude bro friends are the worst, too. And they're just enabling him to be shittier.

Carver: They're also not the type of guys you would normally associate with that behavior. These are PhD students! They're educated, they're woke-- Well, some of them are. Mark is not.

SJ: Oh, yeah. Will Poulter's character. I mean, can he ever play a good guy? I don't think so. With that face?

Carver: He's going to play an idiot. That's the role he is given in this movie, is the idiot or the fool. And that is how I associate him, in film at least.

SJ: Oh, totally. He looks like the mean kid from Toy Story brought to life.

Carver: [laughs] Very Sid. I can see it.

SJ: But yeah, so Christian isn't-- It's a more subtle version of abusive, toxic behavior than we're used to seeing. It's not in your face. It's not like he beats her. It's shittier in a much subtler way, in like a gaslighty way.

Carver: Mm-hmm. In a 'your feelings are your fault and my feelings are your fault...'

SJ: He constantly makes her feel like she's holding him back because she's having a panic attack, or because she's grieving, or because she's the sad girl at the party-- Ugh, that's the worst! I hate that.

Carver: I was discussing with my roommate earlier that I think the kindest thing he could have done would have been to break up with her. Because then at least she would have had that anger to fuel and push her forward in ways that I don't always think grief can do. I think the anger part of the grief cycle is one of the things that, for me at least, will pull me forward and keep the momentum of healing going, because you've got that fire. Whereas grief on its own just feels like something that's pulling you down. And I think you can feel that in Dani's character this whole time. What she needed was just a little bit of fire to get her going.

SJ: Heh. There's some foreshadowing for ya. [Carver chortles] For anyone who feels the same way we do about Christian, I highly recommend and will link in the shownotes, someone on Twitter made a supercut of the movie that's just Dani looking at Christian like he's the shittiest boyfriend in the world, set to Wii music. It's *amazing*. [both laugh] It's the only cut of this movie you really need to see, if you haven't seen it. That's a big thing right off the bat-- He is so unsupportive of her in her grief. And you can tell even in one of those opening scenes where she's just sobbing in his arms and he's just sort of awkwardly holding her, like he just wants this to be over. And then you contrast that to the group wailing scene, which we will talk about more, of course, because it's my favorite. But the contrast between the way those women hold her and the way that he barely holds her is striking.

SJ: I wanted to ask you, because I was trying to think of another horror movie that takes place entirely during the day... Is this the first and only?

Carver: It is not the first. I think another-- as well as just a major influence that Ari Aster has said himself for this movie-- is the Wickerman, which is Folk Horror, this is Folk Horror... They have a lot of the same tropes. But I would say as far as movies that have been made recently, using it this way, where the sun is kind of symbolism-- the light is part of what is being foreshadowed in the opening panel... Because I will say something I noticed watching both of these movies is that Ari Aster loves to tell you everything that's going to happen so early, and then just still somehow surprise you with it at the end.

SJ: Oh, absolutely. I do really appreciate his foreshadowing. One of my favorite images of foreshadowing in film is from Midsommar, and it's that shot of Florence Pugh's character curled up on the bed in a fetal position, facing the wall. The camera makes a slow pan into the room, and above her is this giant painting of a girl with blonde hair, wearing a crown, opposite a large brown bear, holding its face and looking into its eyes. [laughs]

Carver: Mm-hmm.

SJ: If you know how this movie ends, you are both laughing and your jaw is, like, on the ground. It literally tells you how this movie is going to end, but then it just takes you on a ride to get there. It's the kind of movie that I think does benefit from having watched it once before, because then you can pick up on all those little clues he places throughout, which just enhances the viewing for me. Did you find that as well?

Carver: I did. So the first time I watched it, I remembered the bear from that painting. But on this watching, after the May Festival, when she witnesses the event with Christian and the naked women, when she is preparing herself to see that, the position she puts her body in as she leans over to look into the keyhole is the same position that little girl's body is when she looks into the bear's face in that painting.

SJ: [gasp] Right!

Carver: And her body language is so intentional when she makes that motion that it's just so clear to me that that was absolutely on purpose.

SJ: Oh, yeah. Again, Aster is very intentional with every shot of his films. I think you see that really clearly in this one. If anything, it's even more intricate and detailed than Hereditary. It simultaneously feels like basically we're just on Florence Pugh's face for two and a half hours, as she's experiencing whatever the fuck this is. So, in some ways, it feels almost like a documentary. But it also is a meticulously thought-out and staged film. There's so much symbolism, it's *so* precise in its imagery...

Carver: There are all those paintings on the walls in the room that they sleep in. And again, on this watching, I noticed that the mural above Christian's bed is the ritual that he takes part in later, with all of the women and the two in the middle.

SJ: Yeah, it is.

Carver: And I know all of that was hand-painted. All of those sets and things, hand painted. All of the clothes were embroidered. And actually, I was listening to something today-- They were trying to hire people from the area where they were shooting, so all of those clothes were designed and sewn by a Scandinavian woman. And it's very clear that those are so artfully designed and thoughtfully done.

SJ: It really comes through. Those sets do not feel like a typical Hollywood set. They feel like they were built by the people who lived there. There is just something very different about them. And the clothes do feel like they were hand-stitched, handmade, hand-dyed. I think it adds more of a natural feel. You don't feel like you're watching a Hollywood movie.

Carver: It's so polished, but it's also such a world that feels lived-in. There are these dramatic cuts, these swipes, there is this editing that is so hands-on, so purposeful, to bring you these emotions. Whereas the situations they're in, as extreme as they are, I think most people can relate to a time they've felt this way or that way. And I think anyone who's been through a bad breakup feels for Dani in this.

SJ: [stifling a laugh] A lot of people online are like, "Take your worst ex to this movie." [both laugh] I mean, I think we have to talk about the Florence Pugh of it all.

Carver: Oh, yeah.

SJ: Because she *carries this movie*. This would not have worked without her, I really, truly feel. Like, I'm trying to imagine any other actress of the same age in that role, and I just don't think it would have compelled me the way she compels me. I go off about her a little bit in my Black Widow episode-- We both love her, she's incredible, and she's such a naturalistic actor. She has no formal training, so she just kind of shows up and embodies the character, and she reacts the way that an actual person would. She's never thinking ahead to what the other actor's next line is going to be. She is so organic. I don't think there's any other style of acting that could have worked for this role. You really have to have that. And I can't think of anyone else like her that could have pulled that off. So I really just have to say, this is a masterclass in acting-- not even acting, it's like a masterclass in *being*-- from Florence Pugh. It is peak Frowny Face Florence Pugh. [Carver laughs] I think the regular cut is almost 3 hours long, and didn't have time, but I still want to watch the director's cut, which is like another half hour. This movie is ostensibly so long, and yet it goes by so quickly for me because I'm just mesmerized, really, by her and her performance. She just guides you through, as the viewer. This should be so boring, like, nothing happens! But I'm just riveted by her.

Carver: She has the exact opposite issue that we had with Charlie in Hereditary, where all of the emotions with that character were at arm's length, whereas there isn't a moment in this film where you aren't feeling what Dani is. And I mean, all of that has to do with The Florence Pout. [both laugh] But there are just so many instances that are great in this, even when she acts slightly out of character to what we know of her. Like when the group that came with Pele's friend have left, and she says, "You know, Simon left without Connie." And Christian's like, "Oh, that's so terrible, that's so terrible." And she's like, "I could see you doing something like that." [laughs] And I was like...

SJ: Yes! It's such a relatively tame line, but savage for her.

Carver: Oh, absolutely! And he takes it that way. She always has kid gloves on with him. Everything is her fault, every issue in the relationship she sees as her contribution, when she has this person who is effectively using those insecurities to manipulate her, when he doesn't know what he wants. They say in the beginning, "You need to get off the fence with this"--

SJ: Mhm.

Carver: And he refuses to.

SJ: He drags her along, and you see how it drags her down. Like you said, it would have been a relief if he would just fucking break up with her. But he won't even give her that, and it's so selfish of him, because he doesn't know what he wants, but he's going to hold onto her anyway. And from the opening scene of this movie to the closing, you just feel for her all the way. You feel exactly what she's feeling. It's such a testament to the remarkable performance she gives. Because like I said, I just don't see this movie working nearly as well with literally anyone else I can imagine in the role. I mean, even the most accomplished Oscar-winning actors-- it would be too untrue, too formulaic. It would be something we've already seen them do before. But she brings this freshness that really grounds the film. So, genuinely, I have to give her like 90% of the credit for this movie working for me.

Carver: Absolutely. Yes, there are so many wonderful things about this movie, all of the purposeful things that Ari Aster does. But that would all fall flat if you didn't have this person that was able to just grab your audience and push the emotion in their face. And I think she does that no matter what she's given. I do think the movie I was telling you about, Fighting with My Family is one of the silliest things I've seen her in...

SJ: Yeah, for sure. But she has the range, right?

Carver: My roommate and I were *crying* when she gets to go to Monday Night Raw! [both laughing] The culmination of that movie, when she is getting to be a professional wrestler-- Sobs in my living room! Just because we care so much about what happens to her. And again, it's because she is so good at what she does.

SJ: Absolutely. I've seen her in literally every genre and she just kills it in everything. And I can't remember the last time I saw someone that young do what she's doing. I mean, she's 26 years old, and in just the past five years or so, she has created a body of work on film-- and in television-- that tops most actors who have been working for decades. She just elevates everything that she's in. And even beyond her talent, I'm just really impressed by how discerning she is with the projects she does and how many women directors she's already worked with, in her very short career. That's actually depressingly rare for actors of any gender to have that awareness of gender equity behind the camera. [sigh] I could talk about Florence Pugh all day. How much time you got? [both laugh]

Carver: I know this is sort of a controversial topic around this movie... Do you consider this to be a Good for Her film?

SJ: Oh, my gosh, [nervous chuckle] That is so complicated... So, yeah, when everyone was watching this movie, I would say like 70% of the takes online were a variation of the Good for Her meme, right? Viewing this as a female empowerment film. Um... [laughs] Okay. That, to me, is-- Are you familiar with the Broke, Woke, Bespoke meme?

Carver: Somewhat...?

SJ: It has variations. Like, Galaxy Brain is another variation.

Carver: Okay.

SJ: Basically, you have levels of takes, and you start with your most basic take, and then you sort of elevate to the 'Galaxy Brain' or 'Bespoke' take. If I'm applying that to this movie, the reactions that I've seen are, like, 'Broke'-- which is "Good for Her"-- and that's just your base-level, knee-jerk sort of response, not thinking about it too deeply, kind of thing. And sure-- Is it satisfying to watch her burn her shitty ex-boyfriend alive in a bear costume? Yes. [Carver chuckles] Not gonna lie. And the way that she's literally crowned a queen, and it's like the movie is saying, "She was a queen all along and you should have treated her like one, asshole." There's definitely a satisfying element to the end. But, uh, does anyone really believe that Dani is in a healthy place, physically or emotionally, by the end of the movie? You know, to me, that ending is symbolic, the fire is symbolic. This movie is not actually suggesting or approving that you burn your ex alive as a legitimate form of closure. I understand the Good for Her take, but let's think a little deeper about it.

Carver: Yeah.

SJ: I might agree in passing, I might retweet a Good for Her meme. But no, if I'm thinking about it critically, not at all. She's achieved freedom in some sense, but I don't think the movie is suggesting that it's healthy or actually good for her in any way. I think she's just traded one form of abuse for another. And I think a lot of people miss that.

Carver: Yeah.

SJ: The other take that people have-- it's like a more woke take, this would be the next level-- is that, 'Oh, this is a movie that's condoning cults! This is cult propaganda. Wake up, sheeple!' You know? But I think the way the cult is portrayed is kind of a warning to us. They have all this rhetoric that sounds really good, but then it's all proven to be empty or false. So I prefer the Bespoke take, which is viewing this movie as like a PSA for how cults prey upon emotionally, or in other ways, vulnerable people. That's exactly where we find Dani in the beginning of this movie. She is prime cult bait. You know, so I don't see it as this healthy evolution for her. I see it as an evolution of sorts-- healthier in some ways, but... I mean, how do you feel about the end message?

Carver: I think a Good for Her message is complicated for me, because we've talked a bit about how much we hate Christian, he's a terrible boyfriend. Also, if you think critically about what has happened to him-- how he is given a drug he doesn't really want to take and put in a position that he doesn't necessarily want to be in and doesn't have the faculty to fully consent to, and then he's burnt alive for it-- I don't love that being how one of the first major depictions of a male survivor is shown.

SJ: Sure.

Carver: Also, I, uh, think it's easy to see it as a Good for Her if you think of it in the context of the beginning of the film to when the credits roll. But the moment you think of what this character is going to go through when the credits start to roll, when the movie is over...

SJ: Mhm...

Carver: How does she get home? They have said that they bring in new people to expand their gene pool. And so, at least in my mind, forced impregnation is in the future for Dani. I think the real terror for that character starts when the movie ends.

SJ: I would agree. And, you know, that's a pretty unsettling place to come away from. So I think a lot of people just sort of gloss over it and they'd rather see the female empowerment piece of it, but it's true-- Let's think about this. Practically speaking, what would the next scene be in that movie, if it didn't cut to black? I mean... it's not gonna be all sunshine and roses forever.

Carver: Yeah.

SJ: Florence Pugh was on a recent episode of the Off Menu podcast, and she shared some really interesting insights about Dani and the experience of playing her-- a lot of which I think echo our thoughts.

Male host: What do you think happens to her (Dani)?

Florence Pugh: So, she's had a psychotic break. That's what's happened. When she sees her boyfriend having, um, that orgy in the temple, I think that's like one of the last things that she can probably deal with. And I think through the mushroom trip and the this trip and the that trip... I think when everything starts-- for example, when she's on the throne with her flower dress and she's given the choice to either choose her boyfriend or the other sacrifice-- I always took it as like, she was kind of gone by that point, after all the pampering and the weirdness and the oddities of what was happening. So when she looks at him, I never thought she looked at him to kill him. I thought it was more of like, she was in a different place. She was in a different-- She wasn't her anymore. And she almost looks at him as if she's getting that recognition. She knows that it's someone she loves, and she knows that it's someone that's hurt her. So that whole zoom-in, for me, was her processing deep, deep from wherever it is that she's got lost to, that that is someone who has hurt her. And then it snaps, and then he's been chosen. So I always thought that she survived. I don't think she's probably ever going to come back, because to come back from a psychotic break, you have to have deep, deep treatment and work that obviously those people don't have--

Male Host: Yeah, they're not offering that.

Florence Pugh: No, they're not offering that. But I do think that they care for her, and I do think she's-- in a weird, twisted, horrible way-- she's in a place that people actually want her to be there. And I do think she will be getting respect and love, in a weird way, there. I don't think she's ever coming back from this break... It's funny, when I did it, I was so, um, wrapped up in her-- and I've never had this ever before with any of my characters-- I was so wrapped up in her that when I was making the movie, there were so many places that I had to go to, because I'd never played someone who was in that much pain before. And I would put myself in really shit situations that other actors maybe don't need to. do. But I would just be imagining the worst things... Because each day the content would be getting weirder and harder to do, I was putting things in my head that were just getting worse and more bleak. And I think by the end, I had, uh, probably most definitely abused my own self in order to get that performance. And when I left the shoot, they still had three days left to shoot, because I was off to Boston, to go and shoot Little Women literally straight away...

Male Host: [laughs increduously]

Florence Pugh: [with a weak laugh] I know. And I remember when I left, I said goodbye to everyone. And, um... when I was in the plane, I looked down-- and by that point, I'd traveled so much over the weekends to go and do press for Little Drummer Girl that I knew exactly where the field was when I was in the plane, because I'd follow the road out-- And I remember looking down and feeling immense guilt. Like, I felt so guilty, because I felt like I'd left her in that field, in that state.

Male Host: Wow.

Florence Pugh: And it was so weird. I've never had that before. I've always thought that all my characters, once I've left them, I'm like, "Yeah, but they'd be fine in the next situation. They know how to handle themselves." And this one I was like, "I've..." And obviously that's probably a psychological thing, where I felt immense guilt of what I'd put myself through, of course. But I definitely felt like I'd left her there in that field to be abused, to be... um, not to-- She can't fend for herself. And it was like I'd created this person, and then I'd just [snaps fingers] left her when I had to go and do another movie.

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SJ: I would love to talk about race in this movie, because we sort of touched on it in our Hereditary episode... In the pro column, I do appreciate that this movie is using and appropriating the *whitest* possible culture, which, to me, is so refreshing, after the history of horror movies in particular using/co-opting/bastardizing things like indigenous lore and mythology. I mean, almost every movie about a haunted house or a haunted cemetery is based on, 'Oh, it's built near or on an Indian burial ground,' right?

Carver: Yeah.

SJ: So I'm almost okay with this movie being almost entirely white, because it's critiquing a very white culture, and it's not trying to appropriate a non-white culture, like we've seen in the past. Having said that, I think the casting of the few characters of color in this... I think it's a little problematic. What are you going to say?

Carver: Um, I think when you think of, again, the purpose this cult has, of bringing new people in, as they say, to extend the breeding pool, the genetic pool, and when you look around, it is still all white people. You know that they are bringing people of color here, but they are not using them for that. And so, it's hard to ignore that-- I'm going to say that they're a white supremacist cult.

SJ: I would agree. There is definitely a strong element of white purity, because who do they choose to mate with their girl? It's Christian, a white, redhead guy. Like, could not be whiter. The only people of color in this movie are the British couple, who they just kill. They are outsiders who were brought in, but they just use them basically as fertilizer. They don't use them for procreation. So I'm like, absolutely. This is, like, a white purity thing. To me, that works because I don't think the movie is condoning what this cult is doing at all. So we're like, 'okay, yeah, they're kind of an evil cult.' If we were meant to embrace the cult, or if people come away from this movie thinking, 'Actually, they have some good ideas,' that's problematic, because when we scratch the surface, we know that's not true. But I think as long as you're looking at the whole picture, looking at everything this cult is doing, you have a very clear understanding that they're not this utopia that they claim to be. And at the basis of it is this blood purity.

Carver: I do think the thought of bringing Connie and Simon is purposeful on the character of Ingemar. When they're first introduced, he says, "You know, Connie and I went on a date, and they started dating right after." And Connie is like, "We went on *a* date that I didn't *know* was a date." And he's like, "Anyway! And now they're engaged, and I brought them here."

SJ: Ohh, so you think that was payback, for Ingemar?

Carver: I think so. I think it relieved some of his own guilty conscience to be bringing these people, because he saw a slight in some way. And in the end, he volunteers to be one of the sacrifices and burns up there with them.

SJ: Yeah. I hadn't put that together, but I think you're right. The only main character of color is *Josh*, who-- okay, based on that name, I'm really going to assume that Ari Aster wrote the script with all white people, and at the very last minute, one of the producers was like, "You really should have a person of color." So he cast William Jackson Harper at the last minute, just so that people couldn't make the same critique of Midsommar that they do of Hereditary. [laughs] Um, but I have to say, I don't think the colorblind casting in that role works, because I don't think that a Black man, particularly an African American, would go to this other culture and pick it apart the way his white colleagues are doing. That seems like a very white colonialist mentality to have, and you're sort of drag-and-dropping that onto a Black character. That just does not equate to me, because I feel like, with that historical memory, being the descendant of people who were enslaved and who have had their culture appropriated by white people, I don't see how he would then turn around and exploit this culture the way his fellow white students were doing.

Carver: Exploit and also demand access to. Anytime a boundary is set about, "You can go this far, but no further," he is the most anxious to step over that line.

SJ: It's true.

Carver: And I don't think that someone who would have the cultural competence that that character would have, realistically, would do that.

SJ: Totally. Also, his name is Josh. [laughs] I'm sorry, but, like, whitest name ever. I really feel like that character was, at the last minute, cast as a Black person, just to kind of check that diversity box. Doesn't it read that way to you? Because I don't think anything about the character, as is written in the script, has any Black cultural identity or anything. I mean, he acts *just* like his white colleagues, and I just feel like that's Ari Aster doing some last-minute corrections, you know? [laughs]

Carver: I think it's the same as he said how he writes women, is he just puts himself into them. And I think that's very clear with Josh's character. Astor has no understanding of what it would be like to be a person of color, so he's like, "I'll just write you as if you were me!"

SJ: Yep. That's how it reads.

Carver: As much as I love to see that actor in any role-- I'm so happy to see him in anything. I think he also has a great amount of range. I think taking this role was a very smart thing for him to do after a show like The Good Place, because he is a *completely* different character.

SJ: Yes, he is.

Carver: I think he has an eye for creative media. I know if I see him on the cast, there is going to be something interesting about whatever's being made there. So, as much as I want to critique that character, I am always happy to see him working.

SJ: Always happy to see Chidi! Yep. [both laugh]

Things I like about this movie? Equal opportunity nudity-- That's rare! We get just as much schlong as we do full-frontal naked ladies. I also appreciate that there is a sense of humor running throughout this movie. A lot of people have this idea of it being a very self-serious sort of douer movie. But there are scenes that make me *laugh out loud*. The foreshadowing painting is one, but also the end scene-- [Carver chortles] where she's in this giant flower dress, running and stumbling and tripping on it. And she's crying and sobbing and puking-- I laugh so hard. [laughing] And I think it's meant to be funny. Ari Aster has said in interviews that he intended for a lot of this to be, like, absurd. He said one of the funniest things to him is master's students arguing over their theses. So I think there is an intentional beat of humor running throughout that I appreciate.

But also, like I mentioned, I think this is a really-- this and Hereditary, in a different way-- but this movie in particular I think is such a good portrayal of the stages of grief. Particularly the loneliness of grief, you know, how alone Dani feels in mourning, when everyone around her just wants her to get over it and be fine. Of course, the film presents this alternative to that in the form of the cult, which demonstrates this idea of collective feeling and radical empathy. Whenever one member feels pain-- or pleasure for that matter-- they all experience it together as if it was their own. That's a very appealing thing for Dani in the place she's at-- Again, a very vulnerable person, the cult is appealing to what she wants most... And I have to say, the wailing scene, where she's finally letting it all out-- the rage and the grief and the betrayal-- everything that she's feeling, on the floor, on her hands and knees, just *sobbing*, snot and tears dripping down her face. And every other woman in that cult is there on the floor with her, sobbing and screaming together in this one, moving mass...

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SJ: It's such a powerful scene, I have to say. Both times I watched it, I felt it viscerally, and it was really cathartic. Also, just-- can you imagine filming that scene?? [both laugh] The lack of self consciousness you would have to have, because it's just so raw. I think for Dani it is the turning point in the film, because for the first time she's being held by people in the way that she needs to be held-- in the way that Christian couldn't, in the way that she probably didn't feel held by her family. Yeah, I think that's really her turning point. And it's, to me, probably the most powerful scene.

Carver: I absolutely agree with you there. The line I think of most often is Pele asking, "Do you feel held by him?" And I do think that is a question that in relationships we aren't told to ask. And so much of the success of things like that comes down to something so simple: 'Do you feel held? Do you feel that there is someone there to catch you when you need caught?' And I think that is the nail in the coffin of many relationships, is when you realize that you don't.

SJ: That was a line that stuck out to me, too. She sort of gets her answer in that scene: 'No, I have not felt held, that's why I need this.' And I think that's when she, consciously or unconsciously, makes the decision to stay with these people, for at least a period of time. I think a lot of it has to do with the way that American culture likes to isolate people who are grieving. We don't talk about death, and we certainly don't talk about suicide. So she's dealing with all of this on her own. And I really think the cult is speaking to the weakness in the way that Western culture deals with(/doesn't talk about) these things like death and suicide and grief. They are filling that need for her.

Carver: Yeah, they're showing her another way. You know, I think before, she couldn't imagine a world where she really felt held in that way. I think Dani was put in the position of being the one holding. And so, it really is the first time that she feels that other people are even just relating to her, besides Pele who is the first person to really even say, "Sorry for your loss."

SJ: Yeah. We talked in our mental health series-- my guest Megan, who's a social worker, was talking-- about how this really is a shortcoming of Western culture. It's this individualistic, sort of 'pull yourself up by your bootstraps' mentality that makes us feel so alone when we're feeling any type of extreme emotion. We're taught to just figure it out on our own, deal with it ourselves, carry our own water. And the cult, to me, represents more of, like, the Eastern cultural mentality, which is more of a collective, and 'we do things together.' This is something that came up in another episode we did on The Farewell, which is about how no one dies alone, no one grieves alone, we're all in this together. It's about the community, it's about the family unit, it's never about the individual person. So I think that's something we can think about and take as a critique from this movie about our individualistic American culture, which wants to deny these things and make people feel so isolated when they're in the worst emotional places in their lives.

Carver: We're a society that sees asking for help as a shortcoming. The fact that you need help in any way means that you're less than the people who don't ask for it. I mean, in our culture, even mental health is still so stigmatized that going to see a therapist is barely a part of the norm. And most people who need therapy won't seek it.

SJ: Right. That was a big impetus for doing the mental health series. So, oddly enough, I think this movie sort of piggybacks nicely on some of those themes.

Carver: Absolutely.

SJ: For me, another standout scene, other than the wailing, I think my other favorite scene is [chuckling] the dance-off?

Carver: Mhm!

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SJ: 'Dance 'til you physically collapse' has got to be one of the most underused horror scenarios. But it got me thinking about the history of dance marathons, which is actually kind of dark and fucked up. The origin in the U.S.? It began in the Great Depression, as a means of survival for people who were otherwise literally starving. Atlas Obscura had a really interesting article on it recently, and they wrote: "In the thick of the Great Depression, the perverse entertainment racket of America's dance marathon craze was, to some, a survival strategy. Because dancing in a marathon didn't just mean the possibility of a cash prize, it meant being fed and sheltered for the duration of the contest." So I thought that was an interesting, equally dark parallel for what Dani is doing here, which is also probably dancing for her life, whether she realizes it or not at the time. Going back much further in a more global context, you also had these medieval dancing plagues. People would just start dancing, and they'd dance for days and days and days. And at the time, people thought it was demonic possession. Now they say that it was probably ergotism, it was a type of food poisoning, and basically these people were tripping--

Carver: Mhm. Bad bread.

SJ: --which, side note, was also what they think caused the Salem witch hysteria.

Carver: Mhm!

SJ: Atlas Obscura also does a podcast, and they had just done this episode that I had listened to right before I re-watched Midsommar, about the Harga, which is what this dance thing is...

Atlas Obscura female host: I'm standing at the top of a mountain in northern Sweden, and I'm looking at a ring in the rock. It's polished down into the stone almost like hundreds of feet did hundreds of laps around this circle and pounded the ground until it became smooth. According to a famous Swedish legend, that is exactly what happened. A group of doomed teenagers followed the devil to the top of this mountain. And as they danced circle after circle and wore their bones down against the rock, the devil sat in a nearby tree, watching them dance to their deaths, playing his violin... [creepy violin music]

SJ: So, that dance scene is based on this real legend, and I thought it was interesting the way they incorporated it. Those are just some of the contextual things I was thinking of when I watched this movie the second time around. The first time I watched it, I was like, "Oh, they're dancing! This is fun. It's all bright and cheery." But they're drugged! It is sort of like an LSD haze for Dani. Then you start thinking, 'Okay, what if she wins? What does she actually win? What does that entail?' And you just get this sinking feeling of like, 'I don't think winning this is going to be a good thing for her.' And of course, as we've said, it probably isn't.

Carver: To my viewing, it's the moment that really solidifies Dani's relationship with the cult. There are moments in that dance where she looks out at Christian and is afraid. And then she looks at the girl who pulled her into the dance and sees the joy that she's experiencing, and mirrors that feeling the same way that later they will all mirror her feeling. So I think that dance is her really crossing cultures and becoming one of them. That may be cemented later on, but I don't think that she would have done that willingly if it weren't for the way that she felt so included with those women, in a way that she was never included with the people who were already in her life.

SJ: Also, it's just like, really nice to see her smile for the first time in the entire fucking movie! [laughs]

Carver: Truly a relief!

SJ: Honestly. I was just so glad to see a smile on her face. For once, she looked like she was enjoying herself, for at least part of it-- even though she's drugged out of her mind. [laughs] But it is like the only moment of joy in this movie, for which she has just been bereft.

Carver: One other thing that I noticed, sort of tying these two films together-- which I don't always like to do. I personally like that Ari Aster made a movie and then wasn't forced to make a franchise. Which is, I feel like a lot of what's happening now, and there's a lot of pressure for people to find the connection and to put these movies in the same world. I think they're absolutely spiritual siblings--

SJ: Sure.

Carver: --but I don't think that they should be read as happening simultaneously. It is a different world that Hereditary and Midsommar take place in. But they do both focus around this theme of holding in and releasing grief, and I think that is an interesting place to draw fear from. I don't think it is usually grief we are focusing on when we're talking about our fears, when grief is such a huge part of it. I feel like anxiety is the culmination of fear and grief. And it's something that our generation-- and of course, generations before us-- were very vocal about the way that we experience that.

SJ: I have to say, I really love the end scene. I felt like such a cathartic culmination of everything, and the way that it's constructed is so effective. I mentioned the scene where the building with her boyfriend is up in flames in the background, and in the foreground, she's stumbling over this dress, and crying and puking. And I have to laugh, but that is like the final purging for her of those emotions that she's been carrying. Because then she looks around and sees everyone around her-- all the people in the cult-- are also screaming and crying and puking and wailing. And you can see the moment the burden of feeling like she has to carry all of that by herself is lifted. You watch the anguish on her face morphing into relief and a kind of joy, and you see her arrive finally at a sense of peace. The burning building crumbles into the flames, superimposed over a close-up of her face, going through this transformation. And she smiles because she's been released of her grief, of her shitty boyfriend who was never there for her, maybe even of the anxiety and the burden of having a sister who is suicidal and having to constantly worry-- There's some relief there. And there's a release of being constrained by American societal pressures. She has, for better and worse, a new family of sorts that will give her what she desperately needs, which is to be seen and held with no constraints.

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And I felt that sense of catharsis with my own grief as well. Watching it, I felt like I had gone through the wringer with her and then kind of come out the other side, almost being exorcised of my grief. With that final scene, I just felt like I could [exhales] let it go, in a way. And that was really helpful for me. So, going into this movie in that profound state of grief allowed me to have that experience and view it through that lens. Again, it comes down to what you're going into this movie-- any movie-- with, but for me, it was like a grief doula, sort of guiding me through the stages. Now, obviously, it's not a perfect happy ending for her - We know this. But that was the experience I had, and it was very helpful for me. So I would recommend this movie to people who are grieving, which I think a lot of people are, as we're in this now third year of the pandemic.

If there's a moral to this story... I think there are a couple things, but one that really jumped out to me was the importance of balance in all things. Throughout the film, we're shown examples of how too much of even a seemingly good thing has negative consequences, right? Like even the constant sunlight, which, sunshine is supposed to be good and symbolize happiness and clear skies. But the *constant* sunlight, the heavy saturation of light throughout this movie, becomes disorienting and wrong, when there's no distinction between night and day. Similarly, too much empathy and sharing-- as we see with the cult having various communal experiences-- at a certain point, leads to the absence of personal boundaries and even consent.

Carver: Yeah.

SJ: Oh, we got to talk briefly about the Oracle character, because we were talking about ableism in Hereditary... But even the Oracle character-- if you're going to give that some meaning (because I really hate that that's a character, it doesn't need to exist)-- if you are to ascribe some meaning to that, you could sort of read it as, like, 'too much blood purity leads to physical disfigurement.'

Carver: That particular character is so secondary that they could have very easily been removed from the story and had basically no effect. I think it is there to trigger the Western cultural taboo of incest, to expose these Americans to something that is going to make them uncomfortable, that they see as morally wrong. And then also the fact that they are doing it purposefully, creating this person in a way that just seems manipulative, creating someone to be used. And they are the only person kept separate from everyone else. They live alone, in the religious house, but they are very clearly created to be kept apart from everyone else. Even if they're put on a pedestal and being told that they're holy, they're still not fully a part of the cult, which is the thing that we feel for Dani. Like, the compelling part of this movie is almost wanting Dani to join this cult, to be a part of something, and then they have created a person to keep away from them.

SJ: It's a striking contrast, and I agree - This character could have been completely written out of or edited out of the movie, and it would change pretty much nothing. I think there's like a total of 5 seconds of actual screen time for this character, at least in the theatrical cut. They're talked about in maybe two scenes, but it just seems so unnecessary. I guess if you're really [exasperated sigh] going deep on it, you could say the othering of this character is another warning sign against this cult being as inclusive as they say. But, uh, Occam's razor would say it's just Ari Aster's ableism showing up again.

Carver: Yeah. [chuckles]

SJ: It feels like the very old archetype of 'good equals beautiful and bad equals ugly.' It's just so regressive and uninteresting that I wish he hadn't included it. What is the point of this character?!

Carver: It really adds little to nothing to the film. It seems sort of like you were saying earlier, used for the same purpose of showing elderly women nude: It's a shock factor, it's to make the most common denominator feel some amount of disgust. It doesn't really feel like it fits even the themes of this movie.

SJ: I agree. And I mean, that's definitely one of the things I dislike. I also don't like that this movie-- *again*-- has, like, zero women involved at any level of production. Since it was filmed in Sweden, they just used a lot of Nordic white dudes... And Aster's next movie is equally white. He's just going to keep doing the same thing, I don't think he's ever going to learn. But, we shall see, Ari.

Carver: We'll see! [chuckles]

SJ: I did want to ask you, do you see Dani as a type of Final Girl? And if so, how does she fit into that canon?

Carver: I think, with the loosest parameters of Final Girl-- which I'm comfortable using here-- Dani is a Final Girl. She starts the movie with the same obstacles against her as everyone else, and because of something inherently different about her, she's able to make it through (at least the film). And the thing that Dani has that's different is *emotional complexity*--

SJ: [laughs] Right. It's true! That is her superpower.

Carver: --And, uh, that's not always what we're looking for in a Final Girl, but I do think it makes her just as tough. The things we expect to see them going through, she, in a way, does. She's put against these insurmountable odds, and just because they look way different than what we're used to doesn't exclude her from being part of that canon.

SJ: Yeah. Isn't the Final Girl also supposed to be the virgin, usually?

Carver: Yes. I'd say that trope gets subverted more and more since Scream came out...

SJ: Since people became aware that the Final Girl was a trope [laughs]. Then they started trying to subvert it.

Carver: Yeah.

SJ: I think there's an element of that to her character, because a comment that one of the douchey guys makes is that she doesn't want to have sex with Christian. That sort of made me think of your classic Final Girl-- as like, not sexual, right? Because the girl who has sex dies first, in your classic horror movie.

Carver: Yes. And I think-- if we're getting into Final Girls-- a lot of the basis of the idea of the Final Girl is because those slasher movies were made during Reaganomics, during an extreme time of demonizing women owning their sexuality. And so, the villain in many of those slasher stories is...Reaganomics. It's the oppressive force coming after people trying to live their lives. And the farther we get from that, the easier it is to subvert those notions.

SJ: Totally. And it's kind of interesting to see versions of Final Girls in different eras.

Carver: I watched a movie recently with a Final Girl who is so unlike anything else I've ever seen, that calling her a Final Girl is a stretch because it's like, is she the villain?

SJ: [intrigued] Mm.

Carver: I, uh, will not recommend it to the squeamish, but the movie Pet is definitely disgusting [SJ chuckles] and unlike anything I've ever seen before. If you really want to see a subversive Final Girl, it would be Holly from that.

SJ: Gotcha. It is interesting to see the evolution of Final Girls, because they started out being very stereotypical, and I think we are getting into more interesting territory with recent horror. The last thing I'll say about Midsommar is, one thing that really irks me? Ari Aster has said a number of times that he wrote this after a really bad breakup, and that he is basically Dani. Now, we know how he writes female characters-- I guarantee you the first draft of this script was gender-swapped. And so, I think about what that would have looked like, and... ew.

Carver: Mhm.

SJ: That would not have gotten made. Like, watching a man drug and set fire to his girlfriend would not play well in a mid-#MeToo era [laughs nervously]. So I'm sure that he got some notes or had some self-awareness to gender-swap those characters. But it really gives me pause to think of what the first version of this movie looked like, if it's taken from his own experiences and his own anger towards his ex-(presumably)girlfriend. I can't help but feel a little ick, ya know?

Carver: Yeah. I think we wouldn't have the same sympathy for Dani, if the roles were reversed there...

SJ: No.

Carver: ...But I also feel like we may have even had *more* sympathy for them, before everything happened.

SJ: Hmm...

Carver: I think because of the way we see gender and relationships, it's easy to kind of say, "Well, is she being a little naggy in the beginning? Is she calling too much?" They're able to put us in her shoes, where we're second guessing those things, whereas if a man was, like, calling and trying to be emotionally vulnerable with his girlfriend, we'd be like, [fawning] "Oh, good for him! Good for him, having a depth of emotion!" Because that's where our bar-- [laughing]

SJ: Ha, right!

Carver: --for the representation of men is.

SJ: Oh my God, it's so true. Well, I know on your show you always like to end with some recommendations, so would you kick us off?

Carver: Absolutely. This is a movie that, when I first saw it, Ari Aster was the first person I thought of-- specifically the shot in Hereditary where he's being followed down the hall, and it starts from behind him and goes over and turns, which I think is a very distinct shot that you don't see very often. There is an Australian film from 1982 called Next of Kin. It actually didn't get a worldwide release until 2019. It's available on Tubi, Shudder, and if you endorse the monster, Amazon Prime... [chuckles]

SJ: [through pursed lips] Myeah.

Carver: It's about a college student who returns to the small town where her family owns a home for the elderly, after her mother dies, and the events of her mother's diary start happening to her. It's part giallo, part haunted house story, and it is immaculate, especially for being made in a time where most films coming out of Australia were called "Ausploitation," because they were just purely exploitation films. And I think this really subverts a lot of what was happening there at the time.

SJ: Interesting. How did you come across that one?

Carver: Uh, I will watch everything on Shudder. Two years ago, I was living in a house without internet, and I watched 100 horror movies in a year-- 100 new-to-me horror movies, not including rewatches.

SJ: Wow.

Carver: And I feel like I really pushed my knowledge of the genre, by pushing myself that way.

SJ: That's very impressive. Henceforth, you will be my go-to horror person. [both laugh] You've watched everything, and I am still really a noob at this genre, so you've been a great reference. I haven't listened to every episode of your podcast, but I've been catching up on some older ones and I try to keep up with the new ones. But it always gives me something new to put on my list, or helps me reconsider a film I've already seen, from a different lens. So, I appreciate what y'all are doing on Spooky & Gay.

Carver: Thank you! So glad to hear it.

SJ: It's a good time, it really is.

Carver: I'm glad. You know, we sat together watching movies and we're like, "We have such a good time. Let's share this with other people."

SJ: I love that. I think some of the best podcasts are ones that just feel like conversations between friends. As a listener, you feel like you're there with them, like you're just having a good chat with your friends about something, or geeking out about something.

Carver: Always feel free to cook dinner with us in your ears. [laughs]

SJ: And I have! I have, actually. [both laugh] Um, I guess for my recommendations, I will try to cancel out the straightness, whiteness and maleness of Ari Aster's films. [chuckles] There's a TV show called Evil. Have you watched this?

Carver: I haven't watched Evil.

SJ: It's from a husband-and-wife creative team, Robert and Michelle King, who also created The Good Wife (which was excellent) and The Good Fight (which was even more excellent and got me through the tr*mp years). They're a fantastic satirical creative duo, and Evil is no exception. It's tackling all these really current, zeitgeisty things, using the genre of horror. It is a bit of a monster-of-the-week sometimes, but the monsters and demons tend to be more human than supernatural in nature, whether it's police brutality or incels going on shooting sprees. Every episode is different and kind of knocks your socks off in a new way. Sometimes it is *genuinely* scary, and sometimes it's mostly funny, but it's a great balance. And I'm just recommending it to everyone, because it feels really underrated. I don't know many other people who are watching it, but it's *such* a good show. And of course, there are a lot of really great women-directed horror movies, so I have listed some of our faves in the shownotes as well for people to check out.

All right! This was fantastic. It was really good to talk to you more in-depth.

Carver: Thank you so much for having me on, that was great!

SJ: Thank you for rewatching those movies even though-- [cracking up] --even though they traumatize you and, uh, you didn't necessarily like them.

Carver: You know, I got to the halfway point in Midsommar, and I realized I had stopped taking notes because I was just so engrossed by it.

SJ: Oh really?

Carver: I don't regret doing it at all. It just really took a lot to get myself to do it. But once I did, I enjoyed it again.

SJ: Oh, good. I'm glad at least one was a more or less enjoyable viewing experience. [chuckles]

Carver: I honestly think that article made my viewing experience of Hereditary worse--

SJ: Yeah!

Carver: --'cause I was really looking for the trans allegory, and where I found it, I did not like it.

SJ: Yes! Same.

Carver: And I hate to say that, because I love supporting trans writers, and I'm so glad that they saw themselves in that. But it is just not something I can see myself in...well. [chuckles]

SJ: It's a good example of how trans people are not a monolith, you know? We have varying opinions on things too, and something that resonates for them didn't resonate for us-- That's okay!

Carver: Yeah.

SJ: [faux-dramatically] We contain multitudes, don't we?

Carver: Truly. [both laugh]

SJ: Like all people! Imagine that.

Carver: Right? [chuckling]

SJ: Well, it's been a blast talking to you, Carver. I'm really glad we got to do this. Thanks so much for sticking with me for...2 hours? 3 hours, now? Oh my God. [tired and apologetic] Yeah, it's been 3 hours.

Carver: Happy to do so. I could talk about this forever, so you're with good company. [chuckles good-naturedly]

SJ: [smiling] Appreciate it. [determinedly] I will see you on TikTok.

Carver: Absolutely. [chuckles]

[Harga music from Midsommar plays in background]

SJ: For more discussion of all things horror, check out Carver's podcast, Spooky & Gay with Carver and Jay. And for more discussion of all things pop culture, hit the 'follow' or 'subscribe' button on this here podcast. I promise we really never talk about the stuff made by straight white guys-- This was a one-off. Following some of Midsommar's themes though, our next episode will be the continuation of our series on mental health representation in TV and film. Patrons of the show get first looks at new episodes, plus bonus content and listener polls. So if you enjoyed this episode and would like more, or just want to show your support for all the hard work that went into it, check out Patreon.com/popculty. Huge thank-you as always to our sustaining patrons: Suzy, Denise, Alexandra, and Mary. And thank you, dear listener, for spending time with us. You can spend more time with Carver on TikTok @acamp.slasher, and me over on Tumblr.com/popculty. Until next time: Stay critical, support women directors, and demand representation.

[music concludes]

SJ: Sorry, I feel like I'm going on. [dramatically] I have a lot of feelings! [both laugh]

#podcast #transcript #the popculty podcast #midsommar #florence pugh #horror movies

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glory-of-gore · 2 months

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Something I fucking hate on this site that I don't see anyone talking about: tagging posts calling out war crimes a certain country is committing with "_ culture." When you search "Russian culture" on this site 95% of the posts are about atrocities of the Russian government and how evil the country is. This is hateful and counterproductive.

I agree with posts calling out atrocities, and I think calling out bad things you see and platforming the voice of those being silenced is an honorable thing to do. The war being waged on Ukraine and the suffering of its citizens through bombing, displacement, torture, assault and several other inhumane measures for nothing more than greed is disgusting. But demonizing the culture of a country to get those points across is only done by people who are so consumed by their anger that they blame people and concepts that don't need to be blamed.

Whatever the reason for doing this is - whether it's to reach a wider audience or out of genuine bigotry - it's unnecessary and plain disrespectful. You're already reaching your target audience when you've tagged a post about Ukraine "free Ukraine", "save Ukraine", "fuck Putin", "Ukrainian war", "Ukraine", "Russia", and several other tags that either show empathy for Ukraine, anger at the Russian attacks, or sum up the general topic of discussion. You've added lots of tags, a good tactic for spreading news online. There is absolutely no need to tag it "Russian culture." That's not what you're talking about in your post. You just want to demonize the culture as a whole, and any innocent citizens (or otherwise) who are interested in the culture. Which, hot take, people are allowed to be, without living in shame about their government's crimes 24/7. People can be proud of the good things about a country while acknowledging the bad things. This isn't liberation, it's hate. Liberation is achieved through anger at the system in which these things happen, at the people perpetrating these crimes against humanity. Not by clumping an ethnic group together as evil or terrorists - that makes you no better than the oppressor.

I wouldn't have made such a long post if it was just here and there, but it actually seems to be a trend under the Russian culture tag - and to a huge degree, because I scrolled for like 2 minutes straight and maybe 2 posts were actually about Russian culture, which I found disturbing. It's also burningly similar to other instances I've seen on the internet of people trying to "get back" at a majority group/oppressive country by being discriminatory and thinking it's okay, so I wouldn't doubt this is a bigger issue. I'm not thinking of a country to search up to find out though.

#also #some of it definitely seemed genuinely hateful #one post had “this is what russian culture looks like”#and generally some would broadly refer to the soldiers as “russians” when talking about the atrocities #which could just be a wording choice but in context seems hateful #this attitude is disgusting #you can't fix hatred with more hatred

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silverskye · 2 years

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I've introduced two of my characters before, but never the rest. Uh, yes this list is still growing bc I love coming up with new characters all the time. For now have this. This is a process & I will eventually link my google doc.

&&&&

Reeve: A quiet and socially uncomfortable human being. He’s the type of person to say yes to everything, even when he has so many other priorities in life. Self-care? He doesn’t know what that is and it causes him to have minor set backs in life. Most of his teen & early adult years he’s been lost and questioning the meaning of his life. His whole journey is finding out who he is, what makes him happy, and what his meaning of living a happy life means to him. A lot of his way of thinking was pushed onto him by his parents & that has caused him to hate certain aspects of his life & himself. His main question is “how do I fit into society?” (I’ll go more in depth in another post.)

Aesthetic: Light Academia // Earthcore // Art Academia

Relationship: Romantic Interest for Zack.

Zack: Mostly rude, mean and has that dark cloud over his head for most of his life. He does what he wants when he wants. The complete opposite of a sun shine person. His whole aurora is cloudy & off setting. The standard that he has for himself is to have none. Why disappoint anyone let alone yourself if you don’t have any goals, achievements & aspirations . Zack doesn’t care about most things or people, those who are close to him hold a special place in his life & he will make time for them. Zack is very closed off from the world, doesn’t know how to interact with new people, especially one on one. He suffers from social awkwardness, and is vey aware of it.

Aesthetic: Dark Naturalism // After Hours

Relationship: Romantic Interest for Reeve.

Mae: Cozy vibes & self-healing. Mae grew up with emotional drama from her family. As an adult, she is learning how to become a better person for herself and for her future. She doesn't want her past drama to define her or others to see her as a weakling. Mae is emotionally & mentally working through certain aspects of her life. She has the support of her best friends and brother.

Aesthetic: Comfy/Cozy

Relationship: Besties with Reeve & childhood friends with Zack. Trevor is her twin brother.

Alice: Unlike her brother she is very social and aware about what’s on trend & what is more important to her. She strives to be in social circles that benefit her

Aesthetic: E-Girl

Relationship: Half-Sister to Zack.

Trevor: Unlike his sister he had a better childhood. He was the favorite among his family. That has made Trevor very anxious about living up to a certain image people have about him. He struggles with accepting his downfall that people don't approve of. As an adult Trevor is very happy and is supporting his sister in every way possible. Truly he knows that without his sister he has nothing really going for him. He is the supportive brother who tags along for the ride.

Aesthetic: Undecided

Relationship: Besties with Zack & Ash. Frenemy with Kai.

Kai: Very supportive & carrying. He is the one who uplifts everyone, a sunshine person. He's very outgoing, easygoing, and never complains. He loves theater and has achieved being the leader in his group. Kai struggles with letting people know himself truly. He stuggoes with talking to people and them getting to know him. He has a front that people know on a daily basis. And his true self he shows when he's with friends. Meeting new people stressed him out bc he feels that he isn't good enough to be in people's lives.

Aesthetic: Dark Academia // Art Academia

Relationship: Besties with Zach & Ash. Frenemy with Trevor.

#rambles #this isnt perfect & i maybe exid this later #for now this will do

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rynnaaurelius · 2 years

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Goddammit im so hapoy to have found you, a Luke apologist. I jaut got sucked back into the whole fandom bc of the upcoming series and... i read the original books when i was really young, right, 11,12,13. And yea, Luke was the bad guy!!

But now im actually Luke age. And i know how young everyone actually is. If you put me in charge of a bunch of 12-15 year olds and made me watch them die one after the other; i'd probably side with the side that's AGAINST those making this happen too???

Idk his stance is just so so so understandable. I'm studying to become a teacher rn and being responsible for big groups of young kids - it feels a certain way. It's like... motherly instincts, but not really, but kinda, but definetly extreme protectiveness.

Now did he make some bad choices along the way blablabla, sure yea. But holy hell his position is understandable.

ESPECIALLY! Knowing about New Rome and that alternatives are a possibility, actually, the greeks just aren't getting them??? Nah i'd definetly try and murder all the gods. Viciously.

I don't really know where i'm going with this except that i was scrolling through the Luke tag and one of your posts was like a breath of fresh air in between all the, mostly pretty young, fans that hate on him and everything he every did. So thanks, i guess?

Goddamn, I somehow never got an email for this, so I had no idea this was collecting dust in my inbox. Sorry about that.

Also, you left me rambling, so. . .sorry about that.

And yes. I am more or less the same age Luke was during the series, and I can't imagine the number it would do on you to be responsible for prepping a bunch of preteens and teenagers to face their violent deaths, especially after what he went through with his mother and Thalia.

I left it in the tags of the post that went viral against my will, but Luke's living out a different genre from Percy and company, and I—I would lose my shit, too, if in his position. That's torturous, dystopian shit.

They're kids, damn it.

(And I have. . .many headcanons about Luke Castellan and Camp Jupiter and Greek demigod life expectancies. Most of them not good, all of them trying to square the worldbuilding)

And I find it so difficult to believe that it's a bad person—and not simply a very angry and hurt person—who sets out to do really questionable things to try and keep another kids from suffering and dying, to prevent anyone else from becoming himself.

There's a certain despair through it and Luke's choices; I really, really have my doubts over whether Luke genuinely believed that he would survive the war, either way.

Raging against the dying of the light and all that. He knows he will likely fail, he knows he's propping up a monster, and he's doing it anyway in this desperate attempt to create something different.

This makes Percy so important because he still thinks that as family and as people, the gods can change—just look at his conversation with Hermes at the end of TLO.

There's a faith he very understandably keeps (Poseidon is, by godly standards, a good dad who tries and that's important), a faith that Luke, in turn, has understandably lost and we see Hermes's grief and regret over that loss.

Luke's last change in heart, his choice to believe in Percy, in how to break this cycle of violence and abuse that's been eating demigods alive, is beautiful and kills me every time.

(Requisite note that this final choice takes on a different timbre considering the events of HoO)

He's lost everything—his mother, Thalia, Annabeth, any semblance of a home he ever had. Which is how I think he justifies Kronos, ultimately, I think. He's lost any hope he has, for himself or otherwise, and is intent on making the gods pay for what they've done.

Like every other tragic hero, he penned his own tragedy, knowing what was going to happen the whole time, which kills me.

He walks into his own end and, at the end, finds that last thing at the bottom of Pandora's jar—Hope.

#i can't believe i'm a luke castellan apologist for having the bold take of 'i think luke making bad choices doesn't make him a bad person'#especially on We Love Our Moral Complexity Dot Hellsite #but here we are #anyway i am once again having luke castellan feelings #long post #ish #we're ignoring the effect heroes of olympus has on any of this #because per the logic of hoo. luke is Even More Right #which. ah. would be fine if anything is DONE with that or written more coherently #heroes of olympus #luke castellan #i got an ask!#percy jackson

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

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Your place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, threats, non-con.

Words: 1510.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America's golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

P.S. I just realized most of my smut fics are about Bucky, so I decided to write one with Steve instead. Btw, all characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you'll enjoy!

______________

"Damn girl, you better put some makeup." Someone's loud voice behind your back made you flinch. "Y'know, you can still do something about that face."

You heard a burst of laughter and bit your lips. It had always been a part of your daily routine for several years once you moved to New York and went to Abraham Lincoln High School. God, you regretted it with all your heart.

"Come on, Sam. Give her some credit." You didn't even need to turn your head to know who was speaking. "She's the natural beauty, isn't she?"

You spun on your heels, watching harshly the group of guys leaning against the wall and smirking at you, all beefy, muscular and tall. The biggest assholes in whole Brooklyn; players of Howling Commandos, your school's basketball team; the ones most of the girls dreamed about and to whom they sent love letters every goddamn week, as the guys claimed. They had been your absolute nightmare since you got transferred to this place.

You glanced at Steve Rogers, America's golden boy, incredibly handsome with those blonde hair and blue eyes; the picture-perfect image of a diligent, polite student; the one whose face they put on promotional posters every year. You knew better than anyone else who was hiding behind this facade of "just a kid from Brooklyn".

"What, are you moody after yesterday's game?" You smirked, knowing very well that they had just lost against Hydra, the team Steve always hated with all his soul. "Go fuck youself and calm down, dear. Or are your buddies gonna lend you a hand, maybe?"

The smile fell from his face as the guy frowned, his bright blue eyes burning a hole in your figure. You guessed he really missed those days when you just listened quietly while he and his friends kept insulting you, but these days were long gone. You grew some teeth by the end of your final year.

"Listen, you little..." Bucky hissed, but Steve raised his hand and made him fall silent as you grinned, clenching your lunchbox in your hands.

Oh, he was mad. You knew well how much Rogers detested swear words, especially if they were coming from a woman's mouth.

"Watch your language, girl," his voice was unusually hoarse, his eyes watching you intensely, "or I'll have to teach you how to speak to a man myself."

"I'd like to see that." You giggled nervously, relieved there were enough students passing by to prevent Steve from doing anything stupid. "But if you want to complain to Mr. Banner to give me a detention, please feel free, dear."

You turned around with a silly smile on your face, waiting for him and his friends to give you some more empty threats, but you heard nothing at all as you kept walking. Suddenly feeling victorious and somewhat invincible, you laughed to youself, hurrying away. Did you just make those assholes silent, gasping for words at your audacity? Did it truly shut their goddamn mouths? God, it was unbelievable. Well, maybe going against Steve Rogers wasn't wise, but you couldn't pretend you were okay with that attitude of his after all those years of pure humiliation. You did nothing but protected yourself, right? Besides, he could hardly do anything since you were never alone at school, and after finishing your classes you were lucky to be driven home by your dad who worked close.

But maybe buying a mace wasn't a bad idea.

You laughed at yourself, finally arriving at the cafeteria and landing on one of the seats with a loud sigh. You knew Steve and his friends wouldn't do anything - their college admission was at stake, and you'd be happy to provide police with all the details if anything were to happen to you. Surely, they wouldn't risk it for just a few words you exchanged with them this morning.

_________________

Shit, you were so late for your PE class! Everyone was already at the field while you ran to the locker room, gasping for air. You didn't need Maximoff to yell at you the third time this month.

You threw your bag to the floor once you spotted your locker and jumped to it, abandoning your skirt in a matter of seconds and desperately trying to get your shorts out. You didn't care much about your surroundings as no one else was inside the locker room. Class had already started 10 minutes ago.

You didn't think anyone could be waiting for you here on purpose.

Before your heard the lock snap, somebody slammed your body into the locker, pressing you to its cool metal door so hard you lost your ability to move. Frightened to death, you were ready to scream, but someone's hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the sound. God, what was happening? Who was that? Why didn't you see anyone?

"Shhh, it's okay." You knew this voice too well. "You can keep screaming, but there's no one around, you know that."

You grunted against his hand, trying your best to throw the huge guy off you but achieving little: Steve was a bull of a man. His enormously big body leaned so close to yours that you could feel his every fucking muscle with his chest pressed to your back. His other hand gripped your throat tighter to make you stop squirming.

You needed to keep your mouth shut today instead of provoking him.

"Yeah, like that." Steve shushed you in a mockingly gentle tone, lifting his hand from your mouth and nuzzling against your ear, inhaling your scent. "I like when you're quiet."

"What the fuck are you doing, Rogers?" You asked him furiosly, pretending you weren't frightened to death. "Have you lost your head?"

"Language." His low gutteral growl made you shiver as you felt his palm on your neck moving.

Clenching your teeth, you tried pushing him away once more, but instead you just grinded against his heated body and realized he was... aroused, the bulge in his pants obvious as you moved your ass. God, no. No, no, no! You were at the edge of going into hysterics, shaking and pushing and crying with his hand on your mouth again. It was hard to breath with so little space Steve gave you, his unbearably hot body covering yours.

"What happened, dear? Cat got your tongue?" You were disgusted at his sweet loving tone. "Aw, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. You wanted me to teach you how to speak to a man, remember?"

His grip on you was madly strong - you winced in pain once Steve had squeezed the cheek of your ass with his huge calloused palm, your head pressed into the cool metal locker as he hovered above you. When he started kissing your neck, you bit your tongue in utter despair. He was fucking sick. Deranged. He was ready to do this over some little quarrel when the only thing you actually did was responding to his bullying.

Your mind was hazy as you started losing your strength after good five-minute struggle. Rogers didn't relent in his efforts to keep you pinned and completely defenseless.

"This is rape, Steve." You whispered, exhausted and anxious. "Do you understand?"

"Come on, what are you saying?"

His hand travelled down to your hips as he caressed them gently and moved to tug your panties down your legs.

"You're so wet for me, dear. How can you call it rape?" You shut your eyes when Steve touched you down there, forcing you to spread your legs and settling in against the craddle of your thighs. As he moved the elastic of your black panties, his fingers were playing with your folds, and you realized with shame he was right as he spread a bit of your wetness on your skin playfully. "Admit it, you have a thing for bullies."

"No, I d..."

Before you could bark at him he forced you to turn your head and kissed you hungrily, pushing his tongue in your half-opened mouth. You squirmed, grasping his hand, yet his arm that he used to hold your chin before swept yours away as he pushed you against the locker even harder. You could feel his erected cock through the fabric of his school pants.

Making a soft noise at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against yours, you heard Rogers groaning, his chest heaved. If you could pull away, a shudder would rush down your spine at the sight of his face. Instead of a school bully there was a predator waiting to tear his prey apart.

"Stop, please..." You panted heavily once he finished kissing you, his fingers still caressing your womanhood, your juices leaking down your thighs. "Why me? What have I done? You have hundreds of girls who want to throw themselves at you."

He smiled and rested his sweating forehead against yours, teasing your entrance.

"You see, it's easy. You get off on being bullied, and I get off on bullying you." Steve started rubbing little circles on your engorged clit, admiring your blushing cheeks. "We can have so much fun together if you just stop resisting me and take your place."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @lovelydarkdaydream

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #captain america #yandere

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moshymosh · 3 years

Text

Remember Me- Something’s happening

When the love of your life suffers from a disease that affects their memory of their life with you, what do you do? Will you spend your last days with them, trying to get them to remember you? The life you had, or would you give up and let them forget you?

Summary- Dr. Spencer Reid felt his whole life change when Agent Y/n L/n joined the BAU. She came in like a cool summer breeze changing everything Spencer knew about love and his capacity to care for someone so much. Y/n came to the BAU with a tragic past, her only goal was to save lives and make the world a safer place for everyone. She meets a skinny shaggy haired doctor, which causes her whole life to change, much like Spencer, will she fall in love or will her tragic past or even her job prevent her?

Pairings- Dr. Spencer Reid x f!reader

A/N- This is a notebook inspired story, this story will be told and wrote like a chapter book. So some of the endings will not always make sense. Also I don't claim go own Criminal Minds or the Notebook, this is solely for entertainment purposes and for enjoyment. Some of the lines are from the notebook movie, again I don't claim to own either fandom/tv show/ movie. I try to make Y/n as vague as possible so shes more inclusive so if there is any descriptive things that don’t apply to you feel free to ignore them. Also just putting this out there as the story progresses Maeve is still alive and well, she is a good friend of Spencer and Y/n’s. There will be graphic content and sexual scenes in later chapters, warnings will be added as they go. Also if you want to be tagged send me an as or comment here, also send requests I'm down for making little fics.

PS- Please don't post my fics anywhere without my documented consent, thanks -Karma (MoshyMosh)

Warnings!- This chapter with have some sexual content, talk of sexual assault, and descriptions of kidnapping. If these bother you please don't read this chapter!

A/N 2.0- I am like half asleep, I will double check the spelling and any issues when I was up

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Y/N laughed from her couch as she tossed some popcorn at Spencer, who sat on the other end of her couch.

"Y/N!" Spencer scolded as he looked over at her, with a smile, when he saw that she was pretending to be interested in the movie they were watching.

Y/N tried to hide her smirk, before she erupted in giggles as she looked back at him, tossing some more popcorn at him. Spencer groaned as he tried to swat away the onslaught of popcorn before he started laughing along with her. Soon Y/N had wiggled her way over to Spencer as she continued to rain popcorn at him before she straddled his hips. Y/N smiled down at him as she lifted the bowl of remaining popcorn above his head then tipped it, dumping the rest of the popcorn.

"Y/N!" Spencer laughed, as he reached up to grab the bowl from her hands. She chuckled and dropped the bowl behind the couch, her arms dropped so that they were draped over his shoulders. Spencer's hands dropped to rest on her hips, and let out a sigh of contentment when her fingers brushed against some of the hair at the base of his neck as she looked down at his face.

Spencer licked his lips as he nervously fiddled with her oversized sweater, his eyes looking between her eyes and her lips. "Screw it." He said quietly before he crashed his lips to hers. Y/N let out a soft gasp against his lips before she eagerly kissed him back, threading her fingers into his hair.

Spencer's hands slid under her sweater, his fingertips brushing against the band of her shorts she wore. Y/N pulled away from the kiss to pull off her sweater, leaving her top half bare. Spencer let out a breath and looked up from her chest, his hands coming up to card through her hair. He pulled her head down to crush his lips against hers again, his hips grinding up against hers slightly. The movie they had turned on, now forgotten behind her.

As they continued to kiss, Y/N let out a groan and pulled away from him as she heard her phone ringing on the coffee table. She slid off Spencer's lap and stood, reaching for her phone. Spencer bit his lip, as his eyes raked over her topless figure, as she bent to pick up the ringing device.

"Penny, you need to have a really good reason for calling on our week off." Y/N said when she answered the phone. "We have a case don't we?" She looked at Spencer as she reached for her sweater when he handed it to her. Spencer watched her slide it on and chuckled softly when he heard her next words. "No need to call him, he's right in front of me." She smiled at him, with a wink.

Spencer smiled back and stood from the couch to gather his things after he pressed a kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Was that a kiss I heard?!" He heard from Penelope's end of the call, causing him to chuckle again.

"Goodbye, Penelope." Y/N said before she hung up. "I'll get dressed then we can go to the office."

Spencer and Y/N rode to Quantico in a tension-filled silence after what happened before they were interrupted. Spencer looked over at Y/N as he replayed the kiss over and over again. He was pulled away from his thoughts as she pulled into her assigned parking spot in the lot. The pair got out and started walking to the elevator in the parking garage.

Y/N fiddled with one of the buttons on her blazer as they rode the elevator in silence. Spencer leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple with a smile, pulling away when the doors started opening on their floor. Y/N smiled softly and stepped out with Spencer, once they were inside the bullpen, she went over to her desk to drop off her bag.

"Miss Y/N..." Penelope sing-songed as she walked over to her, dragging Derek along with her. "You have some 'splanin' to do." She said in the 'I love Lucy' voice.

"I do not." Y/N said feigning innocence. "Also we have a case so now's not the time." She said as she began to walk upstairs to the meeting room, taking her seat next to Spencer.

Soon, everyone arrived and sat down around the table pulling their files to him, opening them up to look at their contents. "Ok guys. We're not traveling very far for this case. It's in our own backyard." Hotch said as he began clicking through some of the photos on the TV screen. Y/N listened to him in the background as she started looking through the pictures for the victimology.

"Every one of the women are Y/H/C and Y/E/C eyed, the only thing different is height and weights. Some of them were found to have Y/E/C contacts and a crude dye job if they did not have the correct look to the unsub. These things were noted in the autopsies." Y/N said as she looked up at the screen as pictures of the victims came up.

"There was some DNA recovered from the sexual assaults and under the fingernails of the first victim, there were no matches in CODAS." Derek said, reading the information from his file.

"DC capitol police think the first victim is Leah Ainsworth, 24, a tourist in DC on vacation." Hotch said. "The period of which the victims were reported missing and then to when they were found is 3-5 days."

Y/N nodded her head. " The extreme amount of wounds seems like overkill. 10 of the wounds on Leah were done postmortem. A lot of rage behind these attacks." She said as she closed her file and looked around at the rest of the team to gauge their reactions.

"There's something else..." Derek said. "Every victim was found with a note that said 'For F/I M/I L/I'."

"Could it be an activist group?" Spencer asked, sitting up in his seat.

"Could be initials." Hotch said rubbing his chin in thought. "Garcia see if those are a match for anything like that."

"Got it." Penelope said, writing down a note for herself.

"Reid, Morgan, go to the latest crime scene. Y/L/N and Prentiss go to where this latest victim was abducted and see if you can get anything from there. JJ your with me, setting up the evidence boards." Hotch directed.

"Let's do this." Emily said, getting up from her seat.

The team spent the day finding out new evidence and new possibilities. As they were about to go home for the night they sat in the meeting room going over the things they found out.

"Emily and I found out our latest victim was supposed to meet someone, like a date." Y/N said as she fiddled with her pen. "But the person never showed."

Emily nodded her head. "Customer parking is down an alley behind the building, the unsub could've blitz attacked and drugged the girls."

"Garcia, anything on the search?" Hotch asked, turning towards the woman in question.

"All I got were two activist groups and millions of names." She said, rubbing at her forehead.

"Alright. Guys go home, we'll come back tomorrow and look at this with fresh eyes." Hotch said before everyone got up and went to their desks to gather their things. Y/N smiled at Spencer as she held up her keys.

"Give you a ride home." She said before she mimicked Derek's voice. "Pretty boy."

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yes, I'll take your offer, but don't ever do that again." He joked as he walked over to her.

Y/N drove Spencer home, dropping him off at his apartment building with a kiss. Soon she arrived home, parked in her normal spot, and gather things before she let herself into the courtyard with her keycard. She looked through her keyring for her house key as she walked up to her door.

She stopped what she was doing with a smile, as she spotted a glass vase full of yellow red-tipped roses sitting in front of her door. She chuckled as she fished out her phone out and dialed Spencer's number as she reached to pull the notecard out with the hand holding her keyring, as she began reading it. She let out a squeal as she felt something press against her nose and mouth. She dropped everything she was holding to fight off her attacker.

"Y/N? Y/N?!" Spencer called over the phone hearing the struggle.

"I finally found you." Y/N heard in her ear as she felt her body go limp in her attacker's arms, succumbing to the drug. Her attacker lifted her body into his arms.

"Jason..." Y/N slurred out in the direction of her phone as her attacker pulled her badge and gun off her person. "Jason Dean... Spencie..." Y/N slurred again before she passed out.

"No one is going to save you, babe. I've got you now." her attacker said as he stepped on her phone in his walk to his vehicle.

Spencer took a shaky breath and called Hotch after the line when dead. "Hotch, Something has happened to Y/N.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagine smut #Moshymosh's masterlist #Moshymoshwrites #moshymosh writes #karmawrites #Karma's imagines #Remember Me

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amphxtrite · 3 years

Note

In relation to the #StopAsianHate tag, it seems fitting to add this contribution since China has been doing a lot of horribly questionable things(to put it mildly), and this has led to a rise in anti-asian rhetoric, with extras on the anti-chinese rhetoric.

It has affected overseas Chinese-descendants and the Chinese diaspora around the world badly, since they had no hand in what China did, nor do they share the same sentiments of China, yet they still get harassed and targeted. Even to the point of cop agents admit to accusing a Canadian professor of Chinese descent of being a spy, Hongkongnese coworkers mistreating overseas Chinese not from China, and a British-born Asian man getting deported without question.

So in lieu of letting this storm rage over even more, the better option appears to be to address everyone's concerns and assumptions about people of Chinese descent who are citizens since birth in other countries and have never set foot in china before.

The main point is: NOT ALL CHINESE AROUND THE WORLD ARE WUMAO COMMUNISTS, NOT ALL CHINESE DESCENDANTS SHARE THE SAME SENTIMENTS AS CHINA OR DOING THINGS FOR CHINA. Got it?

Now, to move on to the other part of attacks on Chinese culture and shaming people just for being Chinese.

1.It is okay to be Chinese-born; there is nothing wrong that you happen to be a Chinese person. You deserve dignity, pursuit of happiness, liberty and respect, just like any other race of person, black, white, Jew, etc out there. You are a person too and don't let anyone treat you otherwise.

2.Chinese people are not "spawn of the bad" or "corrupted subhuman" or "tainted genome"; they are not inherently rotten just by being of Chinese descrnt. There is no proof of that, when you pick apart gene sequences from a Chinese descendant in the clinic, it's still very similar to any other person's dna. Just like every nationality, there's kind people and there's assholes. And just like most other countries, who also had monarchy inbreeding, illness, and radiation(did you know of the Radium Girls in the 1920s, or the very unsafe nuclear testing in the 50s to 90s? They even used to put Radium in wristwatches for citizens to glow in the dark so casually.), the Chinese are no different. Just like to bring up the good parts of others' history rather than focus on the bad so much like china.

3.Chinese history, philosophy and culture does not have all bad parts. Please read and analyze everything, good and bad parts, if you want to make a proper judgement. It is very shocking to hear everyone at this point, so comfortable with joking: "let's nuke the Chinese" or "hope we bomb china badly if there's a war" or "the British and Japanese were good to wipe out the Chinese first" so casually! It is not a fair sentiment nor anti-racist one. If it's wrong to say: "the native Americans should have gotten rid of the arriving pilgrims because they were gonna genocide them anyways so might as well" or "black people should be allowed to hurt white people now for all they've done" then statements of that nature against Chinese is also wrong.

And just like other nations who came before and around the same time, these other nations also had bad parts of their culture. No one seems to highlight how colonizers used to practice Safari Game Hunting in Africa for centuries which killed a lot of animals leaving endangered species, no one talks about the quack and irrational remedies doctors in medieval Ages used to do, how they used to mix arsenic in paint on toys in Victorian era, European wars against indigenous peoples, as much as they keep on bringing up Chinese history's weak points and irrationally using it as a weapon to hold against Chinese people irrelevant to the cause of their past generations for years. It is unfair to whitewash your history while scorning the Chinese people's past.

Some Chinese clothing is nice. Some Chinese food is delicious. Some Chinese architecture can be very beautiful. Some Chinese inventions are useful. Those are the good points of Chinese culture. Not everything is tainted.

4.Not all Chinese are ugly. Or yellow skinned. Or receded jawed. Some have hooded eyes, some have high cheekbones, bigger mouths, wonky noses naturally too. Please look at every Chinese person without plastic surgery and analyze the whole populations faces, before you pass a half-assed judgement of how "ugly" they are in general! Seriously, if not how can you make a proper judgement?

5.As for other Asians who are non-Chinese, please stop trying to compare your cultures against theirs, treat it like a contest and say which one is the 'better Asian' to the people of the Occident(white). It is not cool nor necessary. Just do your thing go brighten your own little corner and you'll be great. Not every wumao is stealing your culture all the time sometimes cultures and trads just overlap or happen to be similar or shared through separation and migration reasons. Yes, you are a different non-chinese Asian and unique, there's no need to make noise or insult Chinese people just to prove your point too.

6.Overseas Chinese had ancestors who suffered too hence their migration and diaspora. Read about the Nanking Massacre, their Opium Addiction, 731 labs, Mao's rule, and other conditions. A lot didn't migrate for fun and games.

This is not dedicated to defending China's misdeeds or the Wumao, this is dedicated to the OVERSEAS people of Chinese descent, the Southeast Asian Chinese, the Chinese diaspora in the west, and anyone who didn't ask to be born with Chinese genes or ancestry but got it anyway: it's not your fault. Don't let yourself be shamed for being born this way, even when it's 'cool' to make fun of Chinese, and find a little pride in yourself. Take care and look out for yourself. There may be 1.4 billion mainland Chinese(even with the birth control policies), but there are many more overseas Chinese who need to be understood as "overseas people of Chinese descent" and respected as such.

For those who are non-chinese reading this, please think carefully anytime you want to post something, is it attacking only the current leaders in china or also targeting Chinese people or overseas Chinese-descent peoples too, before you become the very bigot you hate against a group of people or do a hate crime you might regret. Take a moment, and calm down.

Whoever needs to see this, glad you seen it, even if you need it translated. If you can tag it that would be helpful as well.

this right here 👏👏👏

i hope everyone remembers that it’s not all chinese people who are supporting the unjust things the government is doing. China in general is a very patriotic country and so when given the choice to believe something bad is happening or believing what they have been taught their entire lives (china is great and the best country in the world) they are going side with the statement that has been drilled into their heads since they were children. Chinese people aren’t ignorant they really just don’t know, every news outlet and media platform they use backs up the point that China is the best and they know if they step one toe out of line China is very powerful.

This is the government and the people of power’s doing and it doesn’t matter what the people think. The people either don’t know or don’t understand and it’s fry oho we many people repeatedly blame China as a whole for just a small part of it’s country’s doing.

What’s going on there is absolutely a violation of basic human rights and terrible but please take a moment to remember half the people don’t even know what is happening outside or inside their country because of how controlling everything is there.

Next, because everything there is decided by the government chinese immigrants have NO control over what happens there heck the people in china barely do. So the hate crimes in the west make no. fucking. sense. You’re not going to reach china by attacking u.a or canadian citizens you’re just adding to unnecessary violence. Elderly people, adults and children of north american citizenship are assaulted, harassed and bullied for somethings they cannot control and it’s terrifying how normalized the hate has become.

To all the chinese people seeing this stay strong, there’s no reason to be ashamed of where you or your family is from or how you look.

This anon put it best 🤍🤍

#stop asian violence #stop asian hate #lovely anon

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shannendoherty-fans · 3 years

Text

People, November 9, 1992

Nobody's Pussycat

By Tom Gliatto. Photos by Neal Preston.

Ever Outspoken, Shannen Doherty Defends Family Values, Her Turf on Beverly Hills, 90210—and Her Rowdy Reputation in Hollywood.

THERE ARE TWO ISSUES TO BE CLEARED UP HERE. Both of them are dear to the heart of Shannen Doherty, 21-year-old star of Fox's Beverly Hills, 90210, the Aaron Spelling high school hit that is now in its third season, one in which Doherty's character, Brenda Walsh—who might be described as Gidget with attitude—will break up with that lean-hipped rebel, Dylan (Luke Perry). First issue: Why has Doherty—alone among 90210 costars and teen idols Perry, Jason Priestley, Jennie Garth, Tori Spelling, Ian Ziering, Gabrielle Carteris and Brian Austin Green—come to be regarded as "difficult"? Like, is she, in contrast to the feisty but fairly civilized Brenda, one of those women who rhyme with rich? Is she, as the tabloids have gleefully reported, impossible on the set? Is she a prima donna? Also: After hours, does she party too much? And where was she being driven, in those recent tabloid photos, by rapper Marky Mark?

Second issue: What has become of the youngest of her dogs, a rottweiler named Jake? Doherty has arrived home, at her three-bedroom house in Beverly Hills, expecting to find golden retriever Sally gone (her dad was going to slop by to take her to the vet's), but now only black Lab Penelope is here to greet her. And why is there blood around the hack patio? Unnerved, Doherty phones her parents. No luck. She calls the vet. Gets the machine. Perhaps this is not the ideal moment for Doherty to sit down with a visitor and size up that delicate first issue. She chooses an armless chair in the living room and takes out a cigarette. She smiles, but it is not a happy smile, and her fingers shake as the match reaches the cigarette. "Yeah," she says, exhaling smoke with her sigh, "you've really caught me on a good day."

"People think I'm a bitch," she says with a shrug. "There was a group of four girls at Torrance High, when; we film the show, and they walked by and said, 'Oh, what a bitch!' You can walk away from that, but you really want to turn around and say, 'Why?' " She can give you a couple of whys, actually. "The tabloids make up stuff," she says. "Somebody will call [the tabs] up and say, They're yelling at each other on the [90210] set,' and they will turn around and make it 10 times worse," Doherty says. And maybe, she reasons, the tabloids pick on her. specifically, because "I'm a strong woman. There are still some people out there who can't deal with that."

Aaron Spelling, whose company produces 90210, describes her as "the best young actress I've seen in a long time," and has no problem with Doherty or her manner. "She is a very honest person who wears her emotions on her sleeve," he says. "If you ask her a direct question, she'll give you a direct answer." For instance, Doherty isn't afraid to tell friend, costar and daughter-of-the-boss Tori Spelling if she's wearing the wrong blouse. "Of all my friends, Shannen is the really honest one," says Tori, one of the few 90210ers who talked about her. Doherty's comments are "all meant in the best way," she adds. "But I can see [her reputation] hurts her feelings a bit." If so, Doherty is not about to expose her wounded heart in public. And why should she? Her image hasn't hurt her endorsement power (she does ads for Gitano jeans). "I'm not saying I don't have my moments of bitchiness," Doherty says, not defensively at all, "because everybody has them. But it's never for no reason. I think that life is short, you should live it and be happy. I've always been a ballsy kid," she adds. "I know it pisses some people off, but isn't the end result much better?"

In fact, Doherty, who won her first series role when she was 11 (she played Jenny Wilder on Little House: A New Beginning), thinks her "bitch" reputation started with 1989's cull black-comedy movie Heathers (in which she was one of the three nasty title teens). Doherty says she let a behind-the-cameras player on that film know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't approve of an extramarital affair he was conducting with an extra. "It was the first time I actually saw somebody take advantage of the extras," she says. "He knew I disliked him, and he was the first person to call me a bitch." In the past year, though, she also earned the enmity of prince of sarcasm Dennis Miller when she appeared on his short-lived talk show and embarrassed him by teasing him for not being at ease. (Her photo, tacked up backstage, was subsequently defaced with a devil's horn and goatee.) And would Peter Duchow, who produced her recent TV movie Obsessed, like to work with Doherty again? "How much are you going to pay me?" he asks. He notes that she was late to the set several times ("Professionals," he says, "make an absolute effort to be on time") but then clarifies: "Like a lot of talented people, she has mood swings. Hers are perhaps a lot more exaggerated than others. And any 21-year-old is difficult to work with. She has to learn some lessons that everybody has to learn." Then there was the headline-grabbing flap at this year's Emmys show. The day before the ceremony, Doherty dropped out of presenting an award with John Stamos of Full House and 90210 costar Jennie Garth. "She was a colossal pain in the ass," says Walter Miller, who produced and directed the program. There have been numerous explanations of that pain. Initially a spokesperson said that she was suffering from bronchitis. Miller, who refers to Doherty as "a barracuda," thinks she was unhappy that Garth was given the opening line of Emmy dialogue—even though Doherty would have announced the winning name. But Doherty says she was upset that the entire 90210 cast was not given tickets to the ceremonies. "I just said, "This is ridiculous, our cast can't go,' " she explains. " 'I just don't understand that.' " Doherty's manager, Mike Gursey, says he yanked her from the telecast because "tiny" promises about her role, including what category she would present in, went unfulfilled.

Having offended the gods of Hollywood, though, the young "barracuda" arrived in tears al a luncheon the day of the Emmys, reports Aaron Spelling, "afraid even one would be mad at her." If so, it was a rare display of public insecurity from a young woman who, says her father, Tom, 48, "has always been self-assured." Shannen was born in Memphis, the younger of two children (her brother, Sean, 25, is a USC law student) and, on her mother Rosa's side, the latest in a long line of Southern Baptists. Shannen's conservative upbringing may have something to do with her public displeasure over 90210's Brenda's losing her virginity last year ("We have a whole cast that is sexually active," she complained in one interview); her disgust with that unnamed. womanizing Heathers crew member; and her August appearance at that feast of family values, the Republican National Convention, at which she led the Pledge of Allegiance. ("I don't think Clinton would be any different than Bush," says Doherty, a Jack Kemp supporter, "except maybe he'd do a hell of a lot worse.") Growing up in the male-dominated South, though, had its drawbacks. "I saw how women were treated," she says, "and I wasn't going to be treated like that." In fact, she seems to have a Scarlett O'Hara, I'll-never-go-hungry-again tenacity, developed after her family moved to the comfortable Palos Verdes neighborhood of Los Angeles when she was 6. Her father had bought a trucking firm, but within a few years the business collapsed. "Shannen has seen both sides of the coin," says her dad, now a mortgage consultant. "We lived in a prestigious area, with an ocean view. Then we had the rug pulled out from under us. There was a time when the doorbell would ring and it might be the utility man there to cut off the power." The experience seared Doherty. "People think, 'She's sitting up there in a nice house and has money,' " Shannen says of herself, suddenly irritated. "Somebody said that to me last night, and I got really pissed off. My parents went from having money to having nothing, to eating rice every single day."

As Tom Doherty's company was sinking, his daughter was getting into another business—acting. Initially, Shannen tagged along when Sean tried out for a church production. In short order, she went on to play Sneezy the dwarf in Snow White, also at church ("I hammed it up"), and by age 10 she was doing commercials for Pepsi. Her big break came in 1982, when she did a voice for the animated feature The Secret of NIMH. Then Michael Landon hired her for Little House. "That show changed my life," says Doherty. "Michael Landon was the one who said to me, 'Always slick up for yourself. Never let anybody walk all over you. Be a strong woman.' " The principal of the Baptist school she attended after her stint on Little House paid the price for Landon's advice. "I hated that school," says Doherty, her voice turning sharp again. "It was very repressed. They thought that dancing was evil, and I disagreed. I organized a big dance, and the principal called me in. He wasn't pleased. He had his Bible out there on his desk and told me how God would punish me. I flipped through his Bible and found references to people dancing and rejoicing. I said to him, 'It clearly shows they danced and rejoiced. Just what the f—is wrong with you?' " Her father had reservations about Shannen and show business, but he supported her in her fight at the school, which she left alter a year. She finished her studies at the Lycée Français, a private school in L.A. (by then, the family was back on its feet financially). "Shannen believed in something," says her dad, who didn't know beforehand about the prohibition on happy feet. "She did nothing wrong." The family was less approving when she left home at 18 and moved in with a 31-year-old boyfriend (who had told her he was 28). "I wanted so much to be on my own," she says now. "I wanted to prove I could do things myself". But the boy friend turned out to be involved with drugs. "And I tried drugs and drinking," says Doherty softly. "I was drinking up a storm. Cocaine was something that I tried and didn't really like. It was more the lifestyle I was into. Every single night I was out clubbing and drinking. It was a bad scene." This went on, she estimates, for six months and ended—with a shock—the night her boy-friend struck her. "I just remember one slap across the lace." she says, "and I was out of there." She went across the street to a convenience store, phoned her parents and went home. She has since bought and moved into her own place, but remains close lo her parents. She was there for her father in 1983 and again in 1990 when he suffered strokes (his right side is now slightly paralyzed). "She has done the single most important thing lo help my recovery," he says. "She makes me laugh." It was in 1986. while playing Kris Witherspoon on her second NBC series, Our House, that Doherty first caught the attention of an influential member of the viewing audience named Tori Spelling. Tori also liked Doherty in Heathers and recommended her to her father. Doherty got the 90210 job on a Wednesday, started work on a Monday, and now she's so famous she needs a dog to protect her when she goes jogging.

(The dogs! What about those dogs? Every time the phone rings, Doherty hops up and runs off to answer, only to return with a look of dejection—no news.) Doherty doesn't deny that she may have earned her reputation for being tough in the early days of 90210. "I always stood up for the right causes, but I don't think I was always diplomatic," she says. "But recently I have learned lo be diplomatic." That hasn't prevented the occasional on-set misunderstanding—like the time recently when the day's shoot ran past midnight and Doherty announced (with the producers' permission, she says) that it was time to go home. She suspects Jennie Garth may have resented that show of authority. "I don't think Jennie was very happy," she says. At any rate, she adds, their friendship has suffered—and the Emmy business didn't help. "There's some weird tension there," she says. "We haven't really talked about what happened. But Jennie is a great girl, and this is something that can be worked on." There are no complaints from Jason Priestley, who plays Doherty's brother, Brandon. "All of the stories about Shannen are so blown out of proportion," he says. "She's a very intelligent young woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind. I really enjoy working with her. We have a good relationship on-and offscreen."

For the past year, Doherty's primary offscreen relationship has been with Chris Foufas, 25, a Chicago-based real estate manager. They met through a friend of Foufas's (in fact, she was dating the friend at the time). They announced their engagement earlier this year, but now it has been called off. "He is a wonderful man whom I love very much," says Doherty, "but I'm 21, and it's not exactly the right time to gel married. Friendship has taken over the romance.' " Marriage hasn't been completely ruled out, she says. And "if he goes out with another girl, it's [only] because he's bored." Now as to the famous night on the town with Marky Mark. Doherty maintains that they were not on a date—it was just a friendly foursome that included 90210 costars Green and Spelling. Someday, Doherty may have her own rock-and-roll groupies to distract her. A big fan of U2, Guns N' Roses and Pearl Jam (she would love to meet lead singer Eddie Vedder), she enjoys toying with the idea of having her own band. The basic career plan, of course, is to land some movie roles alter 90210, but Doherty says, "I gel into these modes of sitting in my house writing poetry that could be converted into songs."

She pauses to light another cigarette and inhales, turning her head toward the sound of a car door slamming and the scuttle of approaching paws. Sally comes bounding in, and Tom Doherty enters carrying Jake, the dog's back paws wrapped in bandages. Shannen's father explains that when he arrived to take Sally to the vet, he found Jake in the pool. The pup had fallen in and was frantically clawing the pool trying to get out. "He looks so funny," Shannen says. "I'm so relieved!" She pats him on the head, and he regards her contentedly. You will never hear a bad word from Jake about Shannen Doherty.

*** 💜♀️International Women's Day♀️💜

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