#HE LOOKS LIKE HE STEPPED OUT OF MY PUNK ROCK FANTASY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holylulusworld · 4 years

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The mobster’s girl

Summary: After leaving Steve and quitting your job you find solace in another man’s arms.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Curvy!Reader, former Mobster!Steve x Curvy!Reader, Tony Stark

Warnings: angst, swearing, arguments, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of sex, jealous Steve, comforting, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, oral (female receiving)

A/N: Requested Sequel to: The mobster’s cook

“Steve is still staring at us. I bet he’ll get mad getting to know I will fuck you into the next week and hire you as my cook.”

Bucky stuffs another Hors d’œuvre into your mouth, a big grin plastered all over his handsome face. “I will make him regret he ever let you slip through his fingers.”

Your hand curls around Bucky’s wrist and you look up at him in awe. Steve never did something like that. A simple gesture, a smile, or feeding you with food was not in his repertoire. All he did was coming to your room and …well…strip his clothes off.

“You know, playing with food is the best foreplay, Mr. Barnes. Food turns me on.”

The smirk on his lips grows and his free hand, the one you never dared to ask about wanders to your waist to bring you close to his chest.

“I know how the caterer made those and I can tell, the girl did a great job.”

“Girl? How’d know that?” Bucky smirks as you whisper you now the girl. “You do?”

“Well, it was me, Mr. Barnes. While Steve was busy out of town, I got a call from Tony Stark's assistant. She was head over heels for my food. Telling me Tony almost had a stroke as his caterer got sick and canceled the event.”

“So, you made all these delicious little things.” Bucky licks his lips, watching you fist his jacket. “When did you do all of this?”

“I got a friend; he’s a caterer and I helped him with the more expensive stuff. I spend two days outside his house and Steve didn’t even recognize I was gone for two nights too. Well, he was busy banging another chick.”

“I’d like to take you home and do dirty things to you know, doll. I imagined so many things I want to do to and with you.” Bucky groans when your hand slides over his chest, down to his crotch to cup it.

“Love that you take what you want, Y/N. Show me what you want…” Bucky is not mocking you like Steve or tries to dominate you; he only wants to know you want him as much as he wants you.

“Maybe I imagined you doing dirty things to me too, Mr. Barnes.” Growling low in his throat Bucky let his hand wander to your ass to squeeze your cheek tightly. His crotch presses against your thigh and you can feel how much he wants to do dirty things to you.

“I’ll bring you home and take you till you can’t remember his name. I will fuck this punk out of your system and me into it to lay claim on you.” Bucky’s lips only inches from yours you glance at his mouth before you fist his hair to kiss him roughly.

“I think, I’d like to take your offer, Mr. Barnes. Take me home and take me hard…” Bucky smirks as Steve stands right behind your back when you grab his hand to lead him out of the building.

“Wait. I want to talk to you, Y/N.” Steve grasps for your arm but you slap his hand away, giving him a warning glare.

“Talk is cheap, Steve. Your actions showed me all I had to know. Go to your girl, the one not even able to not drop food onto her expensive dress.” Smirking you clean to Steve. “She’s an easy one; the kind of girl only wanting attention, expensive clothes, and a sugar daddy.”

Turning on your heels you grab Bucky’s hand to drag him out of the ballroom. ”Whoa, doll. You are in a hurry.”

“Last time I checked you promised me the night of my life or something similar. Now live up to your promises.” Bucky snickers when you slap his ass, followed by a pat to his cock. “I like me a man knowing what he wants.”

“I want you, doll. Only you…”

“Bucky! Wait! Why are you leading me toward the kitchen?” Before you can react, Bucky pushes you against the kitchen counter, a dark smirk on his lips.

All the playfulness got replace by unadulterated lust.

“I had this fantasy…” Bucky groans, tugging at your dress. He’s impatient, almost like a kid who wants to unwrap a gift. “I always wanted to eat you out on Stevie’s kitchen counter.”

“Let me get out of the dress, I like it, Barnes. Don’t you dare to destroy it…” Giggling you turn around to let Bucky slides your zipper down, but he doesn’t go straight for the goal.

He takes his time now, slides the straps down kiss your shoulder. Bucky plants soft kisses to your neck, suckles lightly when your dress hits the floor.

His metal hand curls around your waist to bring your ass against his growing bulge. He’s grinding against you, shows you how much he wants you without any false word while his flesh hand creeps toward your mound to cup it.

“Bucky…” Letting your head falls against his shoulder you bite your lip when he slips his hand into your panties. “Please…”

“I want you on that counter and bury my face between those thighs right now.” Nodding you turn around to hop onto the counter, but Bucky grabs your waist to lift you easily.

“Wait, I am too heavy…” But you sit on the counter before you can even blink.

“Nah. Look at you…” Gently pushing your body down, Bucky looks at your exposed chest. He’s licking his lips, thinking about what he wants to do to you first.

“Bucky?”

“Let me just enjoy this moment.” His hands slide over your legs, slowly to enjoy the feeling of your skin under his fingertips.

Your body shudders when you feel his fingers hook into the elastic of your panties to rip the fabric of your body.

Like his bait, Bucky waves your torn panties in front of his face, even sniffs at them. “Knew you like me. Your panties are soaked.”

You would be ashamed, but to be honest, all you can think about is this gorgeous man is not afraid to show you that he wants you, all of you.

“Going to bury my face between those thighs and eat you alive.”

Bucky kneels between your legs, throws them over his shoulder to just look at your pussy for a moment. His fingers spread your lips and you start panting heavily when his tongue darts out to touch your clit.

“Such a sight. My favorite cook, all naked and spread out on my kitchen counter. Damn, tomorrow I’ll take you over the counter and make you eggs at the same time…”

“I would pay to see…” Crying out you feel his tongue thrust into your slit. You swear to all that’s holy Steve never got that deep. “Bucky…fuck me…”

“I am on it, doll. Now let me see…” He’s sliding his tongue in and out of your hole, not letting up when you fist his hair.

When his tongue finally retreats three thick fingers take its place and you grind against his digits. Bucky wraps his lips around your clit, suckles gently at the swollen bud when you let go of his hair, falling back onto the count with a sigh.

“Jesus, Buck…”

“That good?” Grinning up at you between your legs Bucky smirks. He doesn’t care your juices run down his chin or that you will have to disinfect the kitchen counter. All he can see is the girl he adores naked at his mercy…or rather where he wanted you to be for far too long.

“Better than good. That was…”

“Oh—doll, I am not done with you, not at all.” Sitting up you watch Bucky get up to stand between your still spread legs.

“Well, Mr. Barnes, I am counting on it.”

“Let me bring you to my bedroom and we can ruin my bed…”

“Did you see where Bucky and Y/N went?” Looking at Tony who has a smug grin on his lips Steve squares his jaw. “Tony, I asked you a question.”

“Steve, do you know the old saw ‘who snoozes loses’?” Tony’s grin widens seeing Steve’s jaw go slack. “I don’t understand how you can replace a girl like Y/N, the one saving my party by the way, and chose the girl over there. Did you see? She is playing with her phone for the whole damn event.”

“Where is Y/N?” Steve steps closer, angrily clenching his jaw. “I saw her with Bucky and then they were gone.”

“If Bucky is only as crazy about that girl as I think he is – your best pal is railing her in his bed, and I can tell – she will not stop him.”

Tony smirks again before he turns his attention toward his wife. “Never play with a girl who is in love, Steve. You can only bend her to a certain point before she breaks…”

“I am going to break you…” Bucky groans as you push him onto the bed to drag his boxers down. “I will ride this dick until you beg me to stop.”

“I’d like to see that, but I have other plans…” Flipped onto your back you find yourself underneath the tall mobster who grins widely. “Gotcha and now…”

Bucky angles his hips; makes you gasp with every nudge against your slit.

“Bucky fuck me already. I want to feel you inside me. Make me forget anything and anyone else…” Husking the words you hooke one leg over his waist.

“You are a girl my taste now let me get you good…” One word leaves your lips when Bucky finally slides into you with one forceful thrust. “Fuck…”

“God, doll…fucking perfect…” Pinning your left hand down with his metal hand and bracing his right forearm next to your body Bucky smirks when you place your free hand onto his back to hold tight onto him.

He’s moving slow, rather rolls his hips than thrusting to let you get used to his size.

“Dammit, Buck. You make it hard to concentrate on anything but your dick.” Giggling you look up at the mobster who is having the time of his life.

“I think that you need someone to tame you, doll. I know you want me to make sure you will feel me for days.” Bucky smirks when he speeds up. Your hand wanders over his back up to his shoulder to dig your nails into his flesh.

You can feel his cock rub against your g-spot, and it ignites the spark you missed for so long. While the sole of your foot presses into his ass, you smirk when he looks at you.

“Harder, Bucky. Fuck me as you mean it. I want to feel you for days.” Bucky laughs at your words, but he still keeps on rocking his hips at a slow pace. “Bucky…”

“I want to be a gentleman during our first time together.” His lips claim yours and you kiss him back, more than eager. “I want to do it right.”

“If you want to do it right, act like a gentleman but…” Smirking you dig your nails deeper into his shoulder. “…fuck me like an animal…”

“You asked for it, doll.” He’s kissing you again, slow, gentle, and full of passion but then his hands grab yours to pin them down above your head. Bucky angles his hips, smirks one last time and then he gives you what you were asking for.

“Oh-god!” He holds you down, pins you to the mattress when he starts to slam his hips against yours. His cockhead kisses your cervix and you have to admit, he will ruin you for any man. “Harder…”

“Love you too, doll. Let me just…fuck Y/N.” Your walls tighten with the way Bucky pounds you into the mattress. He’s watching your face contort in pleasure, watches your mouth fall open to call his name until your body shakes underneath him.

Your orgasm too intense to not cry out his name alone with profanities you look at Bucky the whole time your high rushes through your body. “I am not done with you…”

Slipping out of you Bucky rolls you onto your belly, grips your ass to raise it, and before you can even moan he slides back into you.

All the gentleness is gone as Bucky gives you what you want. He fucks you like an animal.

The headboard slams against the wall, the frame creaks and you are close to laughing when another high ripples through your body, rips the last dignity away when you wail for the man behind you like a wounded animal.

“Fuck, I wish I could go for longer but you squeeze me too tightly.” You don’t care Bucky curses your name, or that he fists your hair the moment his hot cum runs down your thighs. All you can do is sigh sleepily and fall onto the pillow.

“I’ll do it in the morning.”

“Bucky, I must say, you kept your promise but…”

“The bed is not broken.” Humming you look over your shoulder at Bucky who looks at your pussy, still stuffed with his slowly softening cock.

“Maybe next time?”

“Count me in, Y/N. I’ll ruin this bed with you.” Nodding you close your eyes when Bucky pulls out of you. “I’ll carry you into the bathroom. We will have a warm bath and I’ll change the sheets for my princess.”

“Dude…I am no princess…” Teasingly poking your finger into Bucky’s chest when he tries to pick you up you smirk up at the mobster.

“If you don’t treat a girl like your princess you have no right to make her your slut…” Bucky blurs out and you laugh at his words.

“Buck, you can call me your slut anytime, but I prefer doll.” Smiling brightly Bucky carries you toward the bathroom, but not without pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I hope you know this wasn’t a one-time thing for me, Y/N.”

“Stevie. What are you doing here at this time of the day?” Cocking his head Bucky watches his eldest friend march into his kitchen only to watch you make breakfast in the button-up Bucky wore last night.

“I knew you dared to take here with you. How could you just touch my girl?” Steve angrily points toward you. “She’s mine…”

“Nah.” Bucky smirk when he walks toward you to wrap his arms around your waistline. His lips press as a soft kiss to the hickey he gave you this morning. “According to what I heard she quit her job and now she’s all mine.”

“Y/N is your cook now?” Steve glances at the breakfast you made, oblivious to what his friend wanted to say.

“No, Steve. There lies the problem.” Bucky kisses your neck again before he steps in front of you to shield you from his friends’ anger. “To you, Y/N was your property, your cook, and the one you used to find shelter but to me, she’s my girl.”

“Your girl…” Steve looks at your face, really looks at you and he can see a soft smile on your lips when you heard Bucky call you ‘his girl’.

“My best girl, Stevie. If you wanted her to be your best girl, you shouldn’t have made her feel like she’s not the most important girl in your life. While you were fooling around with meaningless girls, you broke her heart and didn’t even care.”

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, a dark look on his face. “I dare you to threaten my claim on that girl. She’s mine now…”

“Excuse me, Mr. Barnes but according to the contract you signed your ass is mine, not the other way around.” Bucky sighs deeply, turns his attention back toward you.

“Doll, that was meant to remain a secret and if I recall the contract right, it was my dick, not ass.” Humming you glance up at Bucky, a smug grin on your lips as you cup his face to press your lips to his nose.

“Dick, ass…all of you is mine.” Dipping your head, you glance at Steve. “If you would excuse us now, Mr. Rogers, me and Mr. Barnes have a business to negotiate.”

“This means fucking…” Bucky exclaims before he grabs your ass to grope it roughly. “A lot of it and I hope to get her round soon. Imagine her round with my baby.”

Steve watches you melt in Bucky’s embrace and his throat tightens at the thought you will – one day - carry his best friend's child and wear his ring…

Part 3 >>

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872 notes · View notes

passable-talent · 3 years

Note

what about,,, modern au,,, punk mucisian au,,,, anakin with tattoos pLEASE

may I introduce u to my new favorite gif...

also. plot twist! what if,, and hear me out,, you’re the musician, and he’s the fan?

i made an entire setlist for this fuckn au of my taste in punk-ish rock-ish music to base certain lines, moods, and lighting off of. it exists. i’ll hand it over if you ask.

stumbled over this headcanon as i wrote but,,,, modern au anakin absolutely grew up in nevada. desert. middle of nowhere. close to vegas and the racing. automobile industry. thank u for ur time

This whole ‘music’ thing was actually working out. Imagine that.

You were gaining fame slowly- your record company still didn’t get you big gigs, but you got something.

Something like this, in fact. A small, dingy laser tag place, but it was perfect nonetheless. Perfect for you. You felt right at home- it was too hot, and the audience was still loud, since the music hadn’t started. The stage was small, but the lights were bright, and you were standing behind the curtains that had been hung barely a foot from the wall.

“Ready?” you heard Padme ask- Padme, the lead guitarist, your best friend. She was on stage, currently, hidden from the crowd by a blanket of black. On the other side of the stage, you knew, was Ahsoka, the drummer, a little tiny teenager you’d picked up last summer when your original drummer quit, and beside her was undoubtedly Aayla, your bassist. You were lucky- you were surrounded by such great friends that you could pull your weight without having to play the guitar. Which was good for everyone- you were an awful guitar player.

“Anytime, loves,” you said, a smile lighting your lips. You’d almost overdosed on the anti-anxiety pills this morning- the feeling of playing a gig still unfamiliar and nerve wracking.

But you heard the music start, and started to sing.

Only when this particular song really kicked into gear did you toss open the curtain, and the cheer went up, almost drowning out the music. You were certainly the fan favorite of the band, only because you were the most expressive. You didn’t have an instrument, so you got to run around on stage, and kneel down to reach out, brushing your fingers to the crowd’s as you sang, like God to Adam.

It really wasn’t a looks thing- for some, it might be, but not to most. Hey, if there was anyone that should really get the attention, it was Padme. She was unfairly beautiful.

The great thing about being a punk artist was that most of your fans were, too. They came with their tattoos and snuck in their weed, their ripped jeans always leaving with a few more holes than they arrived with. A band like yours, so dominated by women, had really caught on with a female crowd, but there were always guys here, too. You never really cared to know if it was their dicks or their ears that brought them.

There was a little bit of a problem, though. You were well known for trying to make connections with as many fans as you could- not for your sake, but for theirs. You loved taking selfies, touching their fingers, winking at them during a particularly suggestive lyric, guys and girls alike. Which lead to a little problem, one that Ahsoka loved to refer to as your ‘wattpad fantasy’.

Growing up when you had, you’d all been all over the internet, into each of its corners. You knew the common trope that teenaged fans had with their favorite artists- that they’d catch the eye of the main singer, and get dragged backstage after the show.

You had the opposite fantasy. Too many times did one or another audience member catch your eye, and yeah, sometimes you did consider catching them before they left after the show. It never worked- either you lost track of them, or you didn’t have the guts to go through with it.

When you laid eyes on him, though, you wanted so desperately to go through with it tonight.

You tried not to be obvious, you really did try to be subtle- but whenever the multicolored lights caught his hair, your gaze was pulled back to him, no matter how much you wanted to give equal attention to every audience member brave enough to wrestle their way to the front row.

But you also wanted to make sure he knew. That you’d noticed him.

With one or two lyrics, lines like “tell me that you love me, even if it’s only for tonight”, you let your eyes catch his, hoping to whatever powers there might’ve been that he’d be looking back at you.

The halftime break, the intermission, came faster than expected, and you dropped into the one room the laser tag place set aside for you, and tried to clean as much sweat from your scalp and hair as you could.

“Alright, what is it?” Padme asked from behind you.

“What to you mean?” you asked, glancing at her through the mirror you were using to try to artfully smudge your eyeliner.

“You’re favoring the left side of the audience. What, find a wattpad boy?”

“Another one?” Ahsoka called from the other side of the room, rubbing sore callouses on her palms.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved them off with a laugh, “let me dream.”

Act II came around, and back to the stage you went, trying to be even more subtle this time around. Still, you kept track of him- he hadn’t moved far. Maybe, if you watched him carefully enough, you’d get to meet him before he left.

It was hard to do, and you hadn’t yet been successful. You really weren’t supposed to offer fans any ‘free’ attention, or at least, that was the way your manager had put it. If you let everybody take a picture with you, then no one will buy backstage passes.

A sentiment that your anarchist side absolutely resented. Fuck capitalism, you wanted to chill with your fans.

But hey, back on topic! It was amazing how you could totally tune out during a song, and tune back in, still strutting around the state, still singing perfectly. Luckily, you’d brought yourself back to reality, right when the second to last song was about to end.

When it faded away, you stepped to the center of the stage, readjusting your mic quickly and letting a real smile come over your face.

And this- this was it. No matter how fantastic any show was, it would never top this. You always went out with the same song, way back from your first album, one of the first you’d ever written. You heard Padme start to strum.

“And with that, we’re coming to the end,” you said over the guitar, speaking to the audience like you knew every person there. “So I want you to all sing along with this one. Every damn word. Because tonight- this is a night none of us are going to forget.” You’d said it a hundred times, and yet, you meant it every time. When you stopped speaking, you started singing, abandoning your strutting and stomping for just standing at the front of the stage, looking at them all.

“It was a fall night, late night-” There was a reason you always ended with this song. It was so beautiful, and so sensual. It was a promise, between you, and your band, and your fans, a promise that it was all for them, not for whatever rode in their wallets. A promise that you would keep looking out for them.

And when you began the chorus, you dropped to your knees, getting that much closer to them, your smile so genuine, because you could hear them, every single one of them, like they were performing for you. It was their night as much as yours, it was their music more than it was yours.

A hundred voices welling up around yours was always what kept you awake at night, kept you coming back, pushing through the looks that people gave you when you said you were trying to make it in the music industry, pushing through the late nights where you couldn’t make it through that lyric. This song, right here, this was what brought you back, kept reminding you what mattered.

You stopped singing, and they continued without you. They always did- they would see how you just looked at them all, with the realest smile they’d ever seen, and they sang for you.

You couldn’t help it. You watched him- and he was singing, too.

This time, you knew for sure. You knew he was watching you, too, and when your eyes locked, the voices around you all swelled to a crescendo, like a soundtrack to the scene you were living through.

You had to snap yourself back into the world to pick up the second verse. It stayed just as intimate, just as amazing, all the way to the end of the song, when you sang the final note, and just stood there, basking in it, in a world made just for you.

The stage lights flickered out, and you disappeared into the dark.

Over your earpiece, one of the roadies informed you that your mics were off, and that’s exactly the way you liked them. You dropped onto the stage, hanging your legs over the front of it. You were still a few feet from the closest little fence, but it was closer than you’d been to them yet.

“Hey, guys,” you hissed toward anyone within earshot. That alone, in the dim light, gathered a crowd of twenty or so who had noticed you. You always did this at the end of the show- just to let them hear their name on your tongue.

And maybe, today, to find him.

You looked to a girl who had her hand outstretched to you, and you took it briefly.

“Hey, what’s your name?” you asked, and she shouted back “Oran!”

“Oran, almost like the color, huh?” You were so much more at ease now than you were, before the show. “I bet you hear that all the time.” You turned to someone else, always trying to make it through as many people as possible.

How many could you touch base with before turning to him, so that it wouldn’t be suspicious? Was three enough, or should you do one more?

No, when you caught his eyes, there was no turning back.

“Hey, what’s up,” you said, fighting to keep your heartbeat under control.

“Anakin,” he said, then pulling a bright yellow card out of his jacket. That, you’d recognize anywhere- that was a backstage pass.

Like the universe was aligning for you.

“Well, Anakin, if you’ve got a pass, I’ll see you later, yeah?” As you usually did from a person who had a pass, you moved on quickly, giving this time to others who wouldn’t get more. You heard six or seven more names before Ahsoka was tugging on your shoulder.

“Alright, alright,” you groaned, throwing your legs over the stage again and standing up, but not before blowing one last kiss toward the small crowd you’d gathered.

As soon as you made it back, into where the speakers cluttered up all of the space, you collapsed against Ahsoka, laughing as she struggled to hold you up.

“What, thinking about your wattpad boy?” she said, throwing you to your feet.

“Oh, not again,” Aayla whined, “he’ll be no different than every other one that you dream of finding at next week’s show, and then never see again.”

“No, no, this one’s different!” you insisted, grabbing onto Padme’s shirt. She brushed you off with a laugh.

“Oh yeah? How?”

“His name is Anakin,” you said, rubbing your lower lip between your teeth. “And he’s got a backstage pass.”

“What??” Came the collective cry, and you shushed them all before your manager appeared.

It was showtime, baby.

There were two or three of them, in total. The passes tended not to sell too well, and there were only a few available, anyway. The band just wasn’t quite big enough to pull that kind of fandom, save for a few die-hards who would one day get to pull out a photo and say ‘see? I was there at the beginning.’

Anakin was the last of the bunch.

“Great to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand for real this time. His eyes were damn intense- no wonder you’d been mesmerized by them.

“You too,” he said, and introductions went just as seamlessly with the others. Padme hugged him, and Ahsoka, little firecracker, gave him a playful punch for telling her that she looked taller when she was on stage.

Now- there’s a reason Padme’s your best friend in the world.

“Hey, it’s getting late,” she informed you, as though she were telling you to wrap it up. But she was smarter than that, and had set up the perfect trap.

“Oh,” Anakin said, looking slightly guilty and quite disappointed. “Well, I-”

“Nah,” you cut him off, smacking the back of your hand against his chest, “You paid for fifteen minutes, you’ll get them. We’ve just got to start packing up. You can chill with us, if you want.” No matter the fame difference between the five of you, he was just another guy in his early 20′s, the same as the rest of you, save for eighteen year old Ahsoka. He meshed well with the lot of you, and even helped load ‘Soka’s drums into the truck.

And, hey- he knew what he was getting into when he climbed into the back of the van with the four of you.

And what he was getting into was a bumpy-ass ride to one of the shittiest hotels the area could offer. It wasn’t even midnight, and you didn’t feel like climbing into bed just yet, so you let him follow the four of you upstairs so you could grab your phone and room key before leaving them to entertain themselves for the evening.

“Come home alive!” Aayla called as a farewell, and Ahsoka snorted from where she was laying on her bed.

“Come home capable of walking,” she said, and Padme saved you by slamming the door shut.

“So what’s there to do around here?” you asked him, shoving your hands into your pockets. You walked close to him, shoulders almost brushing with each step, and his smile was just for you.

“Are you kidding? Absolutely nothing. You’re lucky you found the laser tag place.” You looked toward him with a laugh, the ugly carpeting of the hotel hallway stretching on forever in front of you.

“Seriously? How could you survive?”

“Hey, not every town is downtown LA.”

“I’m flattered you think I’m famous enough to live in LA.” You stopped at the elevator, punching the down button. He nudged your shoulder playfully, those piercing blue eyes flicking over your face.

“You’re gonna be. You guys are really good.”

“Good to know I have your blessing for my career.”

“I’m serious!” he said with a laugh, and when the elevator door opened, he let you inside first.

“Yeah, yeah. So if there’s nothing to do around here...” You tilted your head at him, watching as he rested his shoulders back against the buffed metal wall. “What do you do?”

“Find a friend’s basement to smoke in,” he said with a laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him. “Mostly we go see movies, or sneak onto a roof, if we’re lucky.” You narrowed your eyes, letting your gaze slide to the elevator buttons.

“A roof, you say?”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble-”

“Anakin, answer me this-” You pulled out your phone to check the time. “Do you think the lobby security agent of this Comfort Inn is going to be dedicated enough to check the roof at 12:23 AM?” The world outside this elevator didn’t exist as his lips turned up into a smirk.

“No, I don’t think they will.”

“In that case-” You slipped your second knuckle against the highest number on the wall- 6. Not very impressive, but it would do.

Once the elevator went down to the lobby, and back up again, you stumbled your way to the stairwell and up, finding the door that said ‘roof access- do not enter’. Since when do you ever listen?

If you listened to some red sign on a door, you wouldn’t have your head on Anakin’s shoulder, looking up at more stars than you’d ever seen in your entire life.

You’d grown up in California, too close to some of the largest cities in the country to ever see the night sky like this. He’d grown up here, where there were warehouses for shipping to Reno, or Vegas, or Salt Lake City, but none of those cities were close enough to steal the sky.

“See those two, right on top of each other?” He asked, pointing to an area a few degrees up from the horizon.

“Yeah, I think,” you said, and he lifted his left arm, where he had a constellation pattern tattooed between his elbow and wrist.

“It’s this one. The phoenix. The first constellation I actually saw in the sky.” You reached out, taking hold of his elbow, and positioning his arm, from your perspective, just next to the constellation. “My mom took me out to a field and showed me the stars,” he said, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the fondness in his voice. “For a long time, I wanted to be an astronaut.”

“Me too,” you said with a laugh, “but I wasn’t good enough in math.”

“My mom’s friend Watto says I’m too good with cars to fly a ship.”

“Wouldn’t that make you better?” You asked, readjusting so that your shoulder pressed to his. It was a little cold.

“You’d think so, right?” You were such a loud person, that all too often you fought against silence- not tonight. You let it envelope you, bringing with it peace. You could hear Anakin breathing, and it was so calming, your eyes slipped closed.

“You’re going to fall asleep up here,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Shut up,” you groaned, “I had a long day, and you’re warm.”

“You should go back to the room, then.” You rolled over onto your stomach, then, taking a good look at him.

“But that would mean that this night has to end.” He lifted his chest up by planting his elbows down, bringing himself closer to you.

“You said it yourself,” he said, voice smooth and quiet, “this is a night we’re not going to forget.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want it to end,” you breathed, unable to look away from him. You barely noticed it when he begun to lean forward, but then his lips were on yours, and that you certainly took notice of.

Your eyes fluttered closed, thanks to the shock and the welcome nature of it, and you leaned into it. He brought his furthest hand up and let it slide to the back of your neck, as though he could keep you from pulling away. You wouldn’t.

Your lips were still parted when he pulled away, your mind struggling to catch up. He’d- he’d just-

Calloused fingers brushed your hair back, and you opened your eyes to their touch, being drawn right back to his gaze.

“Then it doesn’t have to.”

-🦌 Roe

part 2

#anakin x reader insert #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker #punk!anakin #modern au #musician au #star wars #fics

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spidercakes · 4 years

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SpiderCakes Masterlist

People have asked about masterlists before and I’m usually too lazy to make them but I decided I’d organize today so here goes! I’ve made the list according to the themes/ tropes of the fics I’ve written. Starker unless labeled otherwise. A lot of these are ABO and also something else but they’re labelled accordingly. Appropriate warnings are attached to each story.

The list is below the cut because its very long.

ABO

Confessions of a Slutty Omega- ABO AU in which Peter is a YouTuber and Tony watches his channel. More of a synopsis than an actual story.

Best Friend’s Kid: fic preview in which Tony is fucking his best friend’s kid.

Random ABO AU- based off this prompt: the first time Tony really holds Peter down with his entire weight as they fuck. Peter absolutely loves the loss of control.

Traditionalist Peter: older alpha Tony and young traditionst Peter in which Peter.

Another Random ABO AU: high school AU, based off this prompt: An Abo in which omegas when severally distressed emit an high pitched call that alerts their alpha.

Prep School AU: Big ‘ol pile of smut tbh.

Young Peter: based off this prompt- 16 yro omega!peter massaging tony's knot with his hands.

Bitchy Tony: fem!Omega!Tony and alpha!Peter where Tony is well known for being a real bitch to anyone who tries to court him.

Angst AU: based off this prompt: Tony is an alpha but Peter is a beta. They can’t be together as laws prevent alphas from mating with betas so they pine in silence.

Cheerleader!Peter Punk!Tony: HS AU cheerleader Peter and punk Tony, smut.

High School AU: what’s on the tin, including a little pining.

Slutty Peter AU: Peter is used to being in charge, but Tony takes over.

High School AU: fem!omega!Tony and alpha Peter.

Gossip Girl AU: Peter is surprised to find himself on a gossip blog he’s never heard of.

CNC Young Peter: 16 year old omega Peter and alpha mob boss Tony.

Married Tony: omega Tony is married unhappily to Justin Hammer and cheats with younger alpha Peter.

50′s AU: fem omega Tony and alpha Peter.

Heat Fic: Peter helps Tony through a heat.

Beauty Queen AU: beauty pageant AU with omega!Peter and alpha!Tony.

Playmate: omega Tony teaches omega Peter how to please an alpha. Intended as multichap but I have yet to write more.

Young!Peter: Tony needs to be married by 21 or he doesn’t inherit Stark Industries.

Tease Peter: best friend’s kid trope featuring Peter the tease.

High School AU: coy Peter makes Tony work for his attentions.

Intern: Tony takes an interest in his new omega intern.

Omega Run: Peter tries to outsmart the alphas only to get outsmarted by Tony.

Just The Tip

50′s AU- ABO also, based off this prompt: how about tony letting peter put just the tip in him as a reward, and they both like it so much they go all the way.

Young Peter- based off this prompt: Mmmm how about horny 16 yo Peter using the “just the tip” argument to convince guilty!Tony.

Late Bloomer Peter- based off this prompt: Omega!Peter is a very late bloomer. Neither he nor Tony realize Peter’s going into heat until it’s too late.

Just the Tip: ABO AU, dubcon, the one that started my fascination with this trope.

Teacher Student: This fit into like four categories on here but I put it here. Just the top with teacher Tony and student Peter.

Bratty Peter: ABO AU, based off this prompt: maybe Peter is being a brat and says he wants to ride Tony but Peter teases him by only putting the tip in.

Half Asleep Peter: ABO AU, based off this prompt: Peter is half-asleep and Tony comes home late from work, Peter tells him he’s tired. Smut ensues.

Fic Ideas (feel free to adopt any of these!)

ABO fic Idea- Meant to be long form, may never get to.

Whatever this is- WinterIronSpider, mentions of incest.

Prep School Idea- definitely starker, more than likely would have included a lot of smut and drug use lol.

Bodyguard AU: half crack half serious.

WinterIronSpider: ABO WinterIronSpider idea.

Urban Fantasy AU: vampire!Peter and incubus!Tony.

Funky BDSM YouTube AU: Tony and Peter do BDSM demonstrations and occasionally themed episodes where they try to use holiday objects as like BDSM equipment.

Royal AU: Tony loves Peter, shouldn’t because blacksmiths can’t love princes.

Naive Peter: young very naive omega Peter who gets fucked by older alpha Tony.

Mob AU: Peter gets involved with Tony after he gets in over his head with Quentin.

Random AU: Peter has had a crush on Tony ever since May started working for the Starks.

Actor AU

Karma Got is Kiss for Me

Age Difference: fic snippet in which Peter, looking for a little adventure, runs into Tony.

Mob AU

Angelic Peter: ABO, based off this prompt: angelic little omega peter who mob boss or biker tony takes a liking to.

More Bratty Peter: based off this prompt: You can’t lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset.

Kidnapping AU: Tony deliberately kidnaps Peter because he has no patience for domestic violence and is basically offended that Beck sucks.

Smol Omega Peter: ABO AU featuring jailbait Peter.

Prequel to Smol Omega Peter: How they met in the above fic.

Shifter AU: based off this prompt: shifter au where everyone has a designated animal as well as abo.

Heir to The Mob: high school ABO AU featuring Tony as heir to the mob boss throne.

Barely Legal!Peter: ABO featuring mob boss Tony with barely legal! Peter.

Kidnapped!Peter: Peter gets kidnapped, Tony does something about it.

Mob Boss Peter: ABO Peter sleeps with Tony to intentionally fuck with mob boss Steve, whom Tony is married to.

Kept!Peter: Tony finds Peter in trouble and saves him, then chooses to pamper the hell out of him.

Stripper!Peter: mob boss Tony favors Peter when he visits the club.

Bratty Peter: Tony has to leave to take care of some things, Peter doesn’t care for that and reacts badly.

Mob Boss Peter: mob boss Peter featuring subby Tony who adores him.

Baker!Peter: Tony stark is a well known mob boss and he meets and falls in love with Baker! Peter.

Figure Skater Peter: mob boss Tony takes a liking to figure skater Peter, marriage to Quentin Beck be damned.

Harassed!Peter: mob boss Tony sees Peter being harassed and steps in.

Soulmates: mob boss Tony didn’t think he had a soulmate.

Superior Iron Man

Merperson Peter: based off this prompt: Tony takes down a rival corporation and discovers a hidden aquarium where they have captive merman!Peter.

Manipulative!Peter: based off this prompt: SIM being manipulated by an evil and/or mischievous Peter?

SIM AU: SIM!Tony manipulates MCU!Peter into coming home to his dimension with him.

Kidnapped Peter: based off this prompt: SIM had kidnapped Peter from the MCU dimension to replace his Peter that was murdered- SIM uses Extremis to wipe Peter’s memories.

WinterIronSpider

Pre WIS AU- based off this prompt: Peter and Tony love each other but Peter is worried about his super strength when they fuck so Bucky steps in.

High!Peter AU: WinterIronSpider high!Peter and soft Dom Tony AU feat. Bucky, the Added Element.

CNC Fic Preview: badboy type Tony and cheerleader! Peter with a splash of Bucky in there too. Incomplete.

Taboo

Stepbrothers AU: ABO featuring jealous Tony and a dash of winterspider.

Sequel to Stepbrothers AU: more jealous Tony and a dash of spidershield.

Another Stepbrother AU: WinterIronSpider- Alpha Tony shares his omega step brother Peter with alpha Bucky.

Age Difference: based off this prompt- Peter at a picnic with Tony, Peter in little daisy dukes or something similar and summery while eating watermelon.

Non-Con Politician AU: based off this prompt- Tony comes across something shameful the young, up and coming, idealistic politician peter parker has done in the past, and holds it over his head.

Teacher/Student

Tease!Peter: based off this prompt: Peter’s flirting not so subtly and tony ignores it until peter shows up in a short skirt and he can’t take it anymore.

Established Relationship: Peter and Tony discuss the future. D/s elements, smut.

Bathroom Fun: pure smut.

BDSM

Across The Stars: WIP, Peter takes a job as Tony’s sub to pay Ben’s medical bills after he's shot and falls into a coma. I’m only tagging this one as it links to all the other chapters.

Dom!Peter: 5 part series in which omega Peter learns he has a thing for domination and alpha Tony learns he has a thing for submission. Incomplete.

Teacher/Student AU: based off this prompt: Teacher/student (maybe an established relationship) with a whole lot of teasing. Dom Peter.

Dom!Peter: based off this prompt: Tony’s had a really long and horrible week at work and just wants to be good?

Sub!Tony: Peter accidentally becomes Tony’s Dom.

Edging: Tony edges Peter within an inch of his life.

Dom!Peter: Tony meets Peter in a club.

Drabble: Dom Peter and subby Tony.

Met Online: wherein Peter and Tony met online and decided to recreate a fantasy or two.

Miscellaneous

Trans!Tony AU- exactly what it says on the tin, smut.

High School AU: Exactly what’s on the tin, with smut/ fem Peter.

Serial Killer AU: exactly what’s on the tin.

Exhibitionist!Peter: Tony isn’t looking forward to his trip home because he knows he’s just going to be compared to his brother Steve the whole time. Peter helps.

So Sorry, Mr. Stark: Rumor has it Tony hates being called ‘Mr. Stark’ but that’s not the real reason he doesn’t want anyone calling him that.

5+1 honeymoon AU- based on this prompt: 5+1 honeymoon in which they stop their honeymoon five times to save the world and one time that they do not.

Acolyte Peter: Tony needs a replacement for Pepper and she suggests Peter.

Sensitive!Peter: based off this prompt: Peter trying to top but he's too sensitive so he either has to stop or ends up finishing too fast.

Rock Star Tony AU: exactly what's on the tin with a moodboard.

Wedding Fluff: exactly what it says on the tin.

Crack AU: Peter and Tony have been in an on again off again relationship since high school and they both happen to be in town for the same event.

Rabbi’s Nephew Peter: literally exactly what’s on the tin, preslash.

Spoiled Peter: exactly what’s on the tin.

WingFic: based off this prompt: a wing fic/soulmate AU where when you meet your mate, your wing colours combine so that you get your mates colours on your secondary feathers.

Zoom AU: Peter introduces his class to all his pets with funky names.

Vacation AU: Peter, Ned, and Liz all vacation in Italy before going off to college.

Bratty Peter: based on this prompt: bratty!Peter possibly with an over accommodating Tony?- in which Peter mostly only pretends to be a spoiled brat.

Diety!Peter: Tony is chosen as that years sacrifice to his village’s god by priest!Howard.

Urban Fantasy AU: urban fantasy starker AU featuring vampire!Tony.

Possessed!Peter: crack AU- Tony possessed Peter, Peter forces him to deal with the consequences.

Sex Slave AU: Headcanons around what this would look like.

Witch!Tony Familiar!Peter: Exactly what’s on the tin.

Sequel to Witch!Tony Familiar!Peter: Tony want to propose.

Camping!AU: Tony fucks Peter against a tree.

Prompt!Fic: Peter teases Tony.

Umbrella Sharing: exactly what’s on the tin. Fluff.

Possessive!Tony: Peter teases possessive Tony and it goes in his favor.

Snowball Fight: Peter hits Tony with a snowball by accident and that’s how they meet.

Pop Star!Peter Rock Legend!Tony: exactly what it says on the tin.

Media: media outlets have a heyday with Tony’s new relationship with 22 year old Peter.

Dumped!Peter: Tony comforts Peter after he gets dumped.

Cat Burglar Peter: based off prompt: Peter is a famous cat burglar and Tony is a police officer trying to catch him.

College AU: fluff mostly.

High School AU: 3 part series in which punk Tony gets with seemingly innocent Peter. The last part is linked, but all three parts are attached to the third.

Sleepy Starker: fluff piece that’s exactly what’s on the tin.

Soulmates: you don’t see in color until you meet your soulmate.

Random AU: Peter is upset that Tony never seems to mention him on social media.

Non Powered AU: Peter’s friends are really confused on what his new job is.

Moodboards

Serial Killer!Peter Detective!Tony

A Star Is Born

Kept!Peter Mob Boss!Tony

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #starker fanfiction #starker masterlist #winterironspider #masterlist

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adapembroke · 4 years

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Reading Tarot Like The Magician

My first exposure to Tarot was through a Tarot workshop I inadvertently took with Rachel Pollack while I was in graduate school. Rachel Pollack is a Tarot luminary who was an influential figure in the Tarot revival in the 1980s. Tarot was a very different art before the 80s. My work exists, in part, because of the work she did blending Tarot with modern psychology. Her book Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom was for people of her generation (and mine) what Modern Tarot by Michelle Tea is for people starting out today.

I had no idea Rachel was famous in the Tarot world when I met her. To me, she was a science fiction luminary, and I was too busy gushing about taking a class with someone who had just published in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction to notice that her workshop was on the Tarot card the Hanged Man.

My school was a magnet for hippies, pagans, and weirdos, so I was probably the least Tarot-literate person in that workshop, but when she held up a well-loved copy of the Hanged Man card and started describing the connections to religious and mythological figures and ideas in the card--Odin, Osiris, Jesus, Mohammed, Odysseus, the Tree of Life--I was enchanted. Utterly. As soon as I could, I ran out to a New Age store and bought a pack of Tarot cards, and that deck of cards is sitting on my desk next to my computer as I write this almost a decade later in their worn and tattered blue velvet bag with a crescent moon pressed into it.

When I stepped into that class, I was still in Fool time. I was exploring, wandering around, didn’t know what I was doing. In the moment when I became enchanted, I stopped being the Fool, and I started being the Magician.

Become Enchanted

Now there’s something a little bit odd about what I just said, isn’t there? I said that I became the Magician when I became enchanted, but aren’t Magicians the ones who do the enchanting?

Yes, this is true, but before you can enchant anyone, you must, as Lee Morgan says in A Deed Without a Name, first be enchanted.

Why is that? And what does it mean to be enchanted? When you have been enchanted, you have fallen under someone’s spell, the way people in the old stories fell into Fairy, falling out of one life, one time and into another. Your life has changed. Your story has changed.

A spell at its most simple is a story. When a witch casts a spell, they are telling a story that, for example, a few herbs, a spoon of honey, a little lemon, and a cup of hot water will make your sore throat go away. When you decide to sip the tea, you are entering into that story. You are giving that story permission to change you.

Sometimes, the story isn’t powerful enough to change you. The herbs are wrong or your sore throat is too far advanced to be helped or the witch hasn’t told a story that convinces you it will work.

Perhaps, the witch doesn’t believe the spell will work themselves. In that case, they have failed to step into the story they’re telling themselves before trying to pull someone else in with them.

Now, when I talk about belief, I’m not talking about faith. Faith is the belief in things you haven’t seen or experienced for yourself. Witchcraft is a practice, not a religion. We do the things we do because they work for us. A witch who successfully enchants the person with the sore throat is usually a witch who has suffered a sore throat themselves and drunk the tea and discovered it works.

This is why you must first be enchanted to be the Magician. You must experience the story for yourself before you can tell it to someone else.

Creativity Is Magic

When I was in graduate school, I lived in Silicon Valley. I was new to the Valley, and I was curious about where I lived, so I decided to write my thesis novel on technology startup culture. As part of my research, I joined a hackerspace. A hackerspace is the punk rock granddaddy of co-working spaces. Co-working spaces are the Millennial stepchild of office parks. I wrote my novel surrounded by young CEOs who were trying to build companies. These companies were so young, so new, there was nothing to them but a slick website and a business card. Usually, the CEO was the only employee.

At first, it seemed kind of funny to me that these guys were calling themselves CEOs.

How can you be the chief anything when there’s only one of you?

Then one day I was at my friend Dave’s company’s launch party. I’d like to pretend it was the kind of Silicon Valley debauch you hear about in the news, but the guests were mostly members of his family. His mom made deviled eggs. If the party hadn’t been held in an office park, I would have thought it was a graduation party. In a way, it was a graduation party. Dave had graduated from the hackerspace to an office park.

During the party, Dave told me something extraordinary: “The hardest thing about starting a company is that it’s all in your head. In your head, it exists, but it can’t live there. You have to make it real for other people.”

That’s what the business cards and the fancy titles and the deviled eggs were all about. They were ways of making his company, which only existed in his dreams, real. They were about telling a story and making it real enough that people could believe it without faith.

The Fool is just an idiot with a dream. The Magician is the next step in the creative process. You become the Magician when you fall in love with an idea and try to make that dream real, when you take the image in your head and start making lines on paper, when you stop running a melody around in your head and start singing, when you pick up a deck of Tarot cards and attempt to become a reader.

Turning a dream into reality requires creating something out of nothing. If you know your physics, you know that you can’t get something from nothing. Only a Fool could believe it’s possible. To get something from nothing is magic. Literally. That’s why the Major Arcana is called the Fool’s journey. Every magician starts out as a fool. Magic is the art of bootstrapping a dream into reality, taking something that only exists in your head and turning it into something other people can interact with. Outside of the witchy world, we call it “creativity.” There is absolutely no difference between creativity and magic.

Magic Is Power, Directed

Now, let’s look at the Magician himself. He is wearing white robes with a red cloak. White is the color of innocence, and red is the color of experience. He is still fundamentally inexperienced, but he has enough experience to put it on like a costume. Over his head is the sign of infinity, which symbolizes unlimited potential. He holds a wand in his hand like a lightning rod, ready to channel power from the universe. It is a white wand, again a symbol of innocence. He doesn’t yet fully understand the powers he’s dealing with, and his action is just a little bit foolish, like someone literally trying to catch lightning.

On the table in front of him are a pentacle, a cup, a sword, and a wand. These are the symbols of the four elements and the suits of the minor arcana.

The pentacle corresponds to the element earth. By having power over the pentacle, the Magician has power over practical things such as work and finances, and power over the earth. He can ground. He can do magic that changes his circumstances in concrete ways.

The cup corresponds to the element water. Water is the element of emotions and creativity and the heart. By having power over the cup, he has power over his emotions and the emotions of others. He can tell stories and create art that make himself and others feel a certain way. The sword corresponds to the element air. Air is the element of the mind. By controlling the sword, he has power over his mind and the minds of others. He can use thought and reason to bring others over to his point of view.

The wand corresponds to the element fire. Fire is the element of passion. By controlling the wand, he has power over his passions, his energy. He can direct his energy toward the things he desires, and he can inspire others to join his cause, as well.

Flowers are everywhere on the Magician’s card. This card is fundamentally a card of growth. The person who is in a Magician phase of life—or whose Soul Card is the Magician—is someone who is primarily growth oriented. The Magician is the eternal student. Unlike the Fool who studies any old thing, the Magician has channeled his interest and study into becoming powerful in one thing.

When the Magician comes up in a reading, it might mean that the person being read for needs to focus their power, particularly in a creative direction, or that they are in a time of life when becoming empowered should be a focus for them. Either way, like the Fool, this card is fundamentally an optimistic one. It is time for the querent to become enchanted.

This post was originally published on Aquarius Moon Journal on 21 January 2019.

#witchblr #tarot

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Women are Space Orcs

Alright ever one, been pretty excited to give you this one. I have a few female characters, including Sunny, that I thought deserve a little love. Plus I wanted to explore the dynamic between Sunny and other members of the crew.

Its just supposed to be a fun little adventure, so nothing philosophical or anything :)

Sunny walked beside Adam as he paced through the cargo bay checking off shipping manifests on his clipboard, checking and rechecking the equipment they would need for re-supply. They had stopped on the Tesraki home world for a much-needed rest and some recuperation. They would be here a couple days, so shore leave was in order for a night or two, a prospect the entire group was excited about considering what the Tesraki home world had become.

If the Tesraki and humans had one thing in common, it was their desire for a good time. It had probably been a horrible idea to introduce the Tesraki to the idea of gambling and casinos. Honestly it had probably been a bad idea to introduce the Tesraki to capitalism as it was, since they took to the idea like fish to water, but mistakes had been made and there was no turning back.

On the coattails of that debacle, the Tesraki;s home world had quickly transformed itself into the Vegas of the galaxy knowing, in true business fashion, that humans couldn’t resist debauchery and a good time. The sheer amount of revenue and inherent benefits that had come to them simply by way of human tourism had been astonishing, raising their planetary gross income to 7% more than any other planet in the GA system.

Commander Vir paused beside another pallet of cargo.

“Hey, SUNNY! SUNNY!.”

Sunny Turned her head in a wide arc searching for the voice and found a group of women standing next to one of the shuttle doors, each waving at her. She left Commander Vir out of curiosity and walked over.

Dr. Katie was there with a few women from engineering and a couple female marines. Maverick, a short female marine with buzzed blond hair and grey blue eyes greeted Sunny with a wolfish grin. “‘Bout time. I’ve been yelling at you for half a minute.” Sunny looked around the circle. It was strange seeing the marines in anything other than their usual uniforms. Maverick was wearing camouflage cargo pants, a black tank top and a pair of blue tinted sunglasses perched atop her short blond hair. Dr. Katie wore a form fitting black dress and pointy red shoes. Another marine had her warm strawberry blond hair curled down past her shoulders.

“Where are you guys going?” Sunny wondered.

“Out on the town, where else. A couple of us decided to get together and go get wasted, or whatever trouble we can get into, maybe lose some money. We don’t know, yet.”

Sunny glanced back towards where the Commander was standing, still going through inventory. “Oh, well I don’t know if we were-”

“Oh come on, the two of you hang out all the time. I think it’s about time you got out more, besides we’re prettier.” The group laughed. Dr Katie flipped her hair and grinned at Maverick, “Well, except for Maverick, but we had to have an ugly one to make the rest of us look better.”

Maverick snorted and waved a hand, “Are you kidding me?” She motioned seductively, “Nothing can top ‘this’.”

“A sack of lard,” more laughter.

“Keep laughing ladies. You’re just jealous of my stunning physique. As I was saying though, seriously Sunny, you need to get out. The Commander has work to get done anyway and he's going to be boring for the next 48 hours.”

Sunny wavered on the edge of indecision as a pair of boots thudded on the ground next to her.

“What are you jackals trying to get sunny into?”

Katie linked an arm through one of Sunny’s, “Girls night, and YOU aren’t invited.”

“Yeah only women or those who identify as such are allowed’” one of the engineers piped up from the back.

Commander Vir snorted, “Y’all better be glad I don’t identify as a woman,”striking a quick pose and flipping imaginary hair over his shoulder, “because I’d be the prettiest.”

“Yes, a beautiful monkey, sir.”

Jackie tilted her head, “You know, now that I think about it probably not the prettiest, or the smartest, or even the strongest. Bet Mav could crush you with her thighs if she wanted to, pop your head like a melon.”

He raised an eyebrow, “As fun as THAT sounds, I am afraid you might be right. You all are too much for my delicate sensibilities. I was actually coming over here to give you the pre-leave lecture.” He cleared his throat, “Don’t get pregnant, don't get anyone pregnant, don’t sell your body for money, don’t accept drinks from strangers, any bail, ransom, or parking tickets will be paid out of your monthly wages. Keep all debauchery, drunkenness, fighting and gambling to a minimum, and please for the love of Jupiter, try not to kill anyone.”

“Yes sir, I will try very hard not to get anyone pregnant,” there was laughter about the group.

The commander raised a hand, “It is 4023, so I am SURE you could find a way.”

“What if I get kidnapped Commander, can I hurt them then?”

“You wouldn’t need to hurt them Jackie. They would bring you back and I would make them pay ME ransom to take you back,” he tucked the clipboard under his arm and looked at Sunny. “Good luck with this group. Don’t die, and don’t kill anyone.”

She hadn’t exactly decided to go with them just yet, but it appeared as if that decision had been made for her. She waved a hand at the Commander who turned back to his earlier duties as the group of marines, engineers and one doctor stepped their way into the small shuttle. The strawberry blonde CJ was a passable pilot and took them down through the clouds with a loud whoop. Sunny’s stomach flew into her face reminding her rather unpleasantly of what she had had for breakfast.

Mav sat next to Katie opposite and over the roaring of entrance into the atmosphere Sunny heard bits of conversation. “I hate it when people assume that you have to choose one or the other. It’s the 41st century, if I want to play with big guns and explosives AND get my nails done afterwards, I am going to damn well do it. You’d have to be stupid to turn down either option, so I say, best of both worlds.”

Katie raised an eyebrow.

The way the light cut across Mavrick’s arms and shoulders made it pretty clear she spent a good portion of her time at the gym.

Dr. Katie through a strand of hair over her shoulder, “Ok, yes I agree, but also at least be careful when you do that sort of thing. I have been a doctor long enough to know what degloving skin looks like, and yes it is exactly how it sounds. So please for the love of all that is holy BE CAREFUL. Personally, just give me a good book and a bag of chips and I’m set for the afternoon.”

“What genre?”

“Meh, whatever strikes my fancy. Mostly fantasy if I am being honest, sometimes romance hits the spot, but other times I can do for a western. It just depends on the day.”

Sunny tilted her head, listening intently. While she had spent a lot of time with the marines, she had never actually gotten to know them on a personal level and she barely knew the name of the women from the engineering and science departments.

If she was being honest, she didn’t really have much of a relationship with anyone, especially not women.

She never really had, considering her history with her mother.

She grew up spending most of her time with her brother and her father and eventually she had become such good friends with Adam that she had become rather short sighted with her other options aboard the crew. To be honest though, it didn’t much matter on her home world, so she couldn't imagine that it would be much different here.

She couldn’t help but pipe in on the subject of weapons which turned into good natured banter between her and Mav who had some pretty strong opinions about the nature of projectile vs energy weapons. Though when it came to other subjects, she was a bit lost. The humans were an interesting race in that they enjoyed both their war and their relaxation in equal measure, so the topics they were discussing went heavily over Sunny’s head.

She got involved in a couple of conversations she probably could have done without. Humans were gross no matter which group of them you talked to. The only difference was this group of humans was more willing to share

The discussion on how to properly scratch a nipple in public was followed by a debate that included but was not limited to scratching in other unmentionable places, random overgrown hairs, body fluids, body smells and on and on.

Sunny turned the conversation back to music, something she was comfortable with. Mav liked punk, alternative, and hard rock, Dr. Katie was ok with anything as long as it was catchy. Jackie, the engineer, had a thing for country music, and CJ was some strange mix between classical and R&B it just depended on the day. The other women chimed in with their favorites and soon all genres were accounted for.

They were all laughing about something by the time they hit planet side and Sunny stepped from the shuttle, eyes wide as she turned in a circle talking in the bright neon lights and a million billboards shamelessly advertising for human tourists. Billboards hundreds of feet across showing pictures of half-naked models, both men and women, rose high into the sky.

The one sad thing about the future was that it hadn’t stopped the objectification of the human body, but had simply equalized the amount of objectification between the sexes, men and women in equal measure, because it was always easier to sell a product when you were really just selling sex instead.

The Terasaki certainly had no moral qualms about doing it either. It wasn’t their species after all.

CJ clapped her hands together throwing her strawberry blond curls over one shoulder, “Alright, we need a game plan.”

Mav eyed one of the billboards, “How about we start there?” she pointed.

The group of them turned to find an advertisement for nightly ring fighting, “It’s just like what I was saying, gotta go see someone get fucked up before I get my nails done, that's just how things should be. Plus twenty bucks says there will be alcohol for those of you who are less interested.” “Hey, I am down for anything as long as I get a massage later.”

Mav nodded, “Deal, I get to watch someone get the snot beaten out of them and you can get wasted. Everyone wins.” Sunny wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected, but she liked what she got. Sunny, Mav and CJ got seats just outside the ring while Jackie, Katie and a few others stormed the bar. Turns out CJ had a thing for yelling at the referee. Mav didn’t care what happened just as long as someone was getting punched in the face and Sunny, well Sunny loved it yelling and screaming with the rest of the humans as Drev and Humans alike beat the pulp out of each other.

Halfway through the night Sunny was interrupted

“Hey,, HEY, Scarab.” Sunny turned around to find a large human looking at her from the aisle, “Why don’t you go stand with the rest of the Drev. I reserved these seats.”

Sunny looked down at him, “Uh ... yeah, there’s room.”

“Let me talk slow since you don’t seem to speak good human, but you’re big and I don’t want your arms getting in the way of my view so why don’t you get lost.”

Sunny was ready to ignore him, but before she knew what was going on Mav and CJ were standing in front of her arms crossed, “The hell you say, you DON’T talk to our friend, bitch.”

The guy looked a bit nonplussed, but straightened himself up, “I told her to go sit with the other Drev.”

“I didn’t know these seats were segregated.” Mav shot back, “but if that’s the case, I think idiots are seated on the other side.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m not. Now either you can back up, or I can back you up.” Mav was right in his face now, but CJ put a hand on her arm warningly. It was human culture that the first person who threw a punch, whether man or woman, was opening up to a fair beating.

Sunny stood from her seat looming a good foot to two over her short companions glowering down at the man. She didn’t say anything. The man backed up a few steps.

“Aww….. little bitch gonna cry to mommie,” Mav taunted, much to the chagrin of CJ.

The guy’s face turn beet red, “If you weren’t-.”

“Here let me finish-”

CJ grabbed Mav by the arm and pushed her back to her seat, “Down Mav.” She turned her eyes back to the guy “Look Imma make this as clear as I can. We aren't moving, so either you get over it and take a seat or you get the hell out. Pick your poison.”

The guy took his seat and shut up. Sunny couldn’t help making a point to step in front of him a few times blocking his view with her bulk. Mav got a kick out of her pettiness, but eventually they left to find Jackie, Katie and the others at the bar. Just a few drinks in and already they were coming up with stupid dance moves.

Grabbing them, they moved out of the bar and onto the street. It was leaning towards late evening, but managed to get themselves checked into a nice little spa hunched between two buildings, a bit out of the way and pushed back from the rest of civilization. Everything going on here was pretty foreign to Sunny.

The Drev had nothing comparable in their culture to this practice, and she watched in confusion as the other humans took their seats at strange tables. Mav was “getting her nails done,” pointing out that there was nothing better than a hand massage and anyone who disagreed could go right ahead and fight her. Katie had her feet soaking in a pool of hot water, while Jackie lay on her stomach on a strange flat table towel wrapped around her curly dark hair obscuring her face while her dark skin shone in the delicate white light overhead.

Water trickled somewhere in the distance, and the entire room was done in shades of white and pastel giving it a very un-Drev aesthetic.

It was an extreme 180 from the earlier venue and Sunny wasn’t entirely sure how to behave.

Eventually, someone came to her rescue as she was ordered to take a seat and relax by CJ, who determined she was in for a treat. Sunny had to admit the warm towel around her neck was nice and she hummed softly as her feet soaked in a pool of water. The human that walked in looked a little surprised to see her, but shrugged and got to work. It took a little more elbow grease to get through Sunny’s tough hyde, but when they managed it Sunny had to admit it was probably the best feeling she had ever experienced… in pretty much ever.

Mav snickered, snapping a picture of the big blue Drev, face covered in a green mask, cucumbers over her eyes, sprawled in a chair as one person messaged her huge neck muscles, one worked on the claws of her left upper hand, and another knelt at her feet.

Sunny was quite displeased when her time was up. She needed about an hour more work on her shoulder muscles and at least another ten minutes on each of her hands, but her time was up so they paid, leaving just as a few familiar faces walked in. Another group of tipsy marines, who made it very clear that they intended to get their feet done while they were here, were filing in.

Sunny found the image somewhat amusing, but was glad to see they were having fun and agreed with their decision. She had a new favorite pastime now and understood why they had chosen it.

With that amazing ritual behind them, they went out to eat. The humans ordered a round of drinks and Sunny asked for some water, not actually capable of getting drunk in the same way that humans did. The berries and fruit that her species ate were often fermented when preserved, giving her species an extreme tolerance to ethanol such that it wasn’t even worth trying to get drunk since you would likely die of heightened liquid consumption before actually reaching the point of intoxication.

Humans on the other hand reached that threshold pretty quick. A few of them were a bit closer, having consumed a few drinks earlier in the day and were not yet totally down from that high. As the night grew on the conversation got louder, and much more interesting.

Dr. Katie raised her hands, “ok ok… you wanted to hear it so I’ll give it to you. I’ve worked in the ER for fifteen years plus trauma centers and other level one clinics and there is NOTHING I haven't seen, and I mean nothing.”

“Worst story,” Mav urged.

“No…. no, no, no, not at the dinner table,” begged one of the ladies.

Katie took a drink, “There was this one time I come into a room to check on a patient, and there is this guy with real shifty eyes and he can’t stop squirming. Real professional looking type right, so immediately I know he’s got something crammed up his ass.” The table burst into a fit of giggling. “So I go up to him and I ask him what’s wrong and he hems and haws and he's all like ‘Doc, I have some intestinal pain, a stomach ache,’ you know because of the thing he's got jammed in his ass.” More giggling. “So of course I ask him all the usual questions, where is the pain, is it something he ate, how long has this been going on, you know and the entire time I am just trying to figure out what he's got up there, because I KNOW he's got something up there, but of course he won’t admit it. We go around like this for like twenty minutes, right, and eventually I am just like send him down to radiology. If this guy won't give me a straight answer, I bet an X-ray will.” Sunny shook her head. “Low and behold, the x ray comes back and what does this guy have spelunking in his insides? None other than… a Barbie doll.”

“No!”

“Yes, and he had thought about this, like, he had tied her arms down to her sides with rubber bands to make sure they stayed in place. So I go back in there, I look at him and I show him the X-rax and of course he plays it like I’m a moron. ‘Well doctor, I was cleaning my kids playroom, naked,’ as you do, ‘and I slipped and fell.’” Maverick snorted into her drink. “And of course I am like yeah sure, but why didn’t you tell me that when you came in, and you know what this sucker does? He Looks me dead in the eye and goes…I forgot.”

The table erupted into laughter. CJ laughed and wiped her face with a napkin, “Now hold on, I got one. It was in boot camp.”

Mav rolled her eyes, “Oh no.”

“Oh yes, some of the guys had been clearing an abandoned hotel, as part of our training. I wasn't there at the time, but I guess while they were looking around they find this nine inch, monstrous rubber dong stuck to one of the walls. So of course they laugh it off right, and go back to what they were doing. Well, when they come back later, it isn’t there. Kind of weird, but whatever. At least whatever until this thing starts SHOWING UP around barracks. Like our Sergeant walks in one morning to do an inspection and we had all just gotten up right, so none of us were paying attention. She starts yelling at us like she does and then goes all quiet. She tilts her head one way and then the other. I swear I have never seen someone look so confused in their entire life and she’s all like, “What the fuck is that?” We all turned around to look and this thing is sitting in the middle of the damned floor and it just flopped to one side, and you know of course we can’t stop it so we just start laughing. The sergeant is trying not to laugh and everyone is trying not to laugh, but it just gets worse. When she could finally talk she just starts screaming at us, trying to figure out what the hell we had been doing the night before. I don’t think I’ve ever done so many pushups in my life.”

Jackie raised a hand just then, “No hey, I have always had a question for you guys about the whole boot camp thing. So what do you do when it’s your time of the month? I mean do they let you guys off easy to go fix things? Or do you just have to suffer?”

“Suffer,” Mav piped in. “Mostly suffer. Like I knew girls who would be bent doubled in pain and still had to stand in formation with us like it was nothing. I mean honestly the shit we had to go through. Seriously, there is nothing worse than standing in front of your sergeant and feeling half your innards just sort of shlop out of you and you have to look this guy in the eye like nothing is going on. Like yes sir, no sir, like insides aren’t totally falling out right now.”

Jakie moaned, “Tell me about it, cramps are the worst.” She glanced towards Dr. Katie, “Seriously, when is the medical field going to do something about that?”

Katie finished off her drink and set it back on the table with a thud, “You would think after more than 200,000 years of menstruation we would know how to fix cramps, but nope, the medical field still has no friggin clue how to deal with them. The general consensus is to throw an anti- inflammatory, a heating pad or a shit-ton load of chocolate at it and pray, but otherwise sucks to suck.”

Sunny looked between the group of them, “Cramps? Your insides falling out…er ... are you guys ok?”

The group turned to look at her with incredulous looks on their faces, “You aren't serious?” Jackie asked.

Sunny stared at her blankly.

“You guys don’t have cramps, periods on your planet…like really?”

“Explain?”

Sunny wasn't entirely sure that she appreciated the explanation once it was over and shook her head vigorously, “EWWW no…. no,” she shivered. Battle sounded like a more amusing pastime.

“How does it work on your planet?” Katie wondered, the scientist in her taking over.

Sunny shifted awkwardly, “Well uh…we have a mating season. The female can become fertile twice a year. It’s during the dark season, so generally all the kits are born during or right before the bright season.”

“So, what? Do you guys just get really horny twice a year or something?”

“Er…. well no. Any time of year is fine but you are just more likely to get a kit during those times of year.”

“Uh huh, how interesting.”

Sunny didn’t exactly see how it was all that interesting. She had never been caught in this sort of conversation, oddly enough. Adam had never asked so she had never been forced to answer the question. In fact, she learned more about humans in the last ten minutes than she had learned about humans in the last year she had been aboard the ship and not all of it was great.

One of the biggest things she learned was that humans get slightly strange the more they drank.

“Ok, Ok,” CJ slurred, “Hottest guy aboard the ship, go.”

“Ramirez,” Katie responded almost immediately.

Mav snorted into her drink again, “Really….. no…. no way.”

“What, he's cute, I’d do him.”

Jackie raised her hands over her head, “I couldn’t tell you who the hottest guy on the ship is, but I CAN tell you who the hottest girl is.”

Mav didn’t bat an eye, “Well of course that would be me, like we even have to debate that subject.”

Jackie rolled her eyes and the rest of the table laughed, “Ha ha, your confidence never ceases to amaze, but you're not my type.”

Katie waved a hand, “Oh come on, I know you don't’ LIKE guys like that but you must be able to tell when one of them LOOKS nice . Come on, a shot in the dark.”

Jackie shrugged, but thought about it for a second, “Uh…. well, how about Adam, he’s good looking, right?”

The table thought about it for a moment. Mav tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, “Well I mean yeah he is, but he's also a super massive juvenile.”

CJ shrugged, “I don’t know, I think it's kind of cute.”

Katie waved a hand at all of them, “Not like it matters, because I have a couple of theories.” Sunny and the other’s looked on in interest, waiting, “I’m pretty sure he's: A into guys, B not into anyone or C a closeted extrial. There was some muttering from around the table, but Mav shook her head in disagreement.

“No, he’s too uncomfortable around women to like guys, and you can’t say he’s hiding it because he has no reason to. If he really liked guys he would be indifferent to women and awkward around men. If he wasn’t into anyone, he wouldn’t be nearly so awkward… however, I can probably get behind C.”

Sunny did not noticed the glances pointed her way

The conversation moved on to the hottest girl on the ship which sparked a furious debate despite Jackie being the only one that like girls. Turned out though that female humans had no issue discussing the perceived hotness or notness of other women. Nairobi down in engineering took the title with almost unanimous agreement.

That lead into the subject of who was the best looking DREV aboard the ship and once Sunny explained that height and carapace color were the most important outside factors mixed with fighting status, it turned into a rather entertaining debate as the humans tried to decide which Drev was the hottest while continuing to steadily drink. It finally devolved into a slurred argument between Cannon and another of their Drev members, Roc.

Sunny would have found the entire thing funny if it wasn’t also rather disturbing. Her vote was the tiebreaker which was obviously biased considering that Cannon was her brother and that was super weird, so of course Roc won the title.

The drunker they got, the worse they got, until the conversation was oscillating constantly between being mildly lewd and hilariously embarrassing stories that Sunny wouldn’t have admitted to in her wildest daydreams.

In the end, it was up to her and Mav, who also didn’t drink to get the other girls back to the shuttle. That was all before realizing that CJ was the only one who could fly the ship so they had no way of getting back on their own. In the end, they had to call for backup and a rather amused shuttle pilot showed up on scene to take the staggering party back to the ship.

Sunny wobbled onto the ship holding up two drunk women while Mav helped a third.

Together they collapsed onto some cargo containers laughing and slurring.

A shadow fell over them a moment later and Sunny looked up to find Commander Vir standing over them with a raised eyebrow, “Fun time, Ladies?”

A burst of giggling, “Yes sir,” Mav smirked.

Katie almost fell off her seat, but Vir caught her by the arm, “Alright, to bed with the lot of you.”

Kate tried to wave him off but nearly fell over once more. “Krill is going to have a fit when he sees the state of you. Come on, let’s get you to bed to sleep it off.” He glanced over at Mav, “Get the rest of them back safe.” Mav saluted and Katie giggled drunkenly, but managed to make it to her feet and together they wandered off towards the medical bay where the medical staff usually slept.

Sunny also helped Mav get the other two to their quarters before retiring to her own room exhausted, but happy.

It had been a good day. She determined to do it more often.

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anhed-nia · 4 years

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BLOGTOBER 10/17/2020: SPOOKIES

What do we watch, when we watch movies? This question was sparked by my SOV experience with the very different, and differently interesting BLOODY MUSCLE BODYBUILDER FROM HELL and HORROR HOUSE ON HIGHWAY 5. Within the Shot On Video category, one can find inventive homemade features that are driven entirely by blood, sweat, and the creators' feeling of personal satisfaction. The results are sometimes fascinating, in their total alienation from the conventions and techniques of mainstream filmmaking, and after all, one rarely sees anything whose primary motivation is passion, here in the late stages of capitalism. But, all this talk about what goes on behind the camera points to a discrepancy in how we consume different kinds of production. The typical mode of consumption is internal to the movie: What happens in it? Do you relate to the characters? Are you able to suspend your disbelief, to experience the story on a vicarious level? One hardly needs to come up with examples of films that invite this style of viewing. Alternatively, we can experience the movie as a record of a time and place in which real people defied conventions and sometimes broke laws in order to produce a work of art. SOV production is usually viewed through this lens, where the primary interest is not the illusory content, but the filmmakers' sheer determination to create. We find some overlap in movies like EVIL DEAD, which simultaneously presents a terrifying narrative, and evidence of what a truly driven team can create without the aid of a studio, or any real money to speak of. See also, Larry Cohen's New York City-based horror films, in which a compelling drama with great acting can exist side by side with phony but beautiful effects, and exciting stories of stolen footage that would be dangerous or impossible to attempt today. I'm thinking about these different modes of consumption now because I just watched SPOOKIES, a legitimately cursed-seeming film whose harrowing production history has superseded whatever people think about what it shows on the screen. The lovingly composed blu-ray from Vinegar Syndrome includes a feature-length documentary that attempts to explain the making of the film--which is accompanied by its own feature length commentary track by documentarists Michael Gingold and Glen Baisley. The very existence of this artifact suggests a lot about the nature of this movie, in and of itself. The truth behind its existence is as funny as it is tragic.

I'm not going to do a whole breakdown of the tortured origins of SPOOKIES, which is much better told by the aforementioned documentary. To summarize: Once upon a time in the mid 1980s, filmmakers Brendan Faulkner, Thomas Doran and Frank Farel conspired to make a fun, flamboyant rubber monsterpiece called TWISTED SOULS. It was wild, ridiculous, and transparently fake-looking, but it was loved by its hard-working creators; as a viewer, that soulful sense of joy can rescue many a "bad" movie from its various foibles. Then, inevitably, sleazoid producer Michael Lee stepped in--a man who thought you could cut random frames out of the middle of scenes to improve a movie's pace--and ruined it with extreme prejudice. Carefully crafted special effects sequences were cut, relatively functional scenes were re-edited into oblivion, and the seeds of hatred were sown between the filmmakers and the producer. Ultimately, everyone who once cared for TWISTED SOULS was forced to abandon ship, and first time director Eugenie Joseph stepped in to help mutilate the picture beyond all recognition. Thus SPOOKIES was born, a mangled, unloved mutation that would curse many of its original parents to unemployability. For the audience, it is intriguingly insane, often insulting, and hard to tear your eyes off of--but in spite of whatever actually wound up on the screen, it's impossible to forget its horrifying origin story as it unspools.

As far as what's on the screen goes: A group of "friends", including a middle-aged businessman and his wife, a vinyl-clad punk rock bully and his moll, two new wave-y in-betweeners, and...a guy with a hand puppet are somehow all leaving the same party, and all ready to break into a vacant funeral home for their afterparty. Well, this happens after a 13 year old runaway inexplicably wanders in to a "birthday party" in there, that looks like it was thrown for him by Pennywise, and he has the nerve to act surprised when he is attacked by a severed head and a piratey-looking cat-man who straight up purrs and meows throughout the picture. Anyway, separately of that, which is unrelated to anything, the island of misfit friends finds a nearly unrecognizable "ouija board" in the old dark house. Actually this thing is kind of fun-looking, having been made by one of the fun-havers on the production before the day that fun died, and I wonder if anyone has considered trying to make a real board game out of it...but I digress. Naturally, the board unleashes evil forces, including a zombie uprising in the cemetery outside, a plague of Ghoulie-like ankle-biters, an evil asian spider-lady (accompanied by kyoto flutes), muck-men that fart prodigiously until they melt in a puddle of wine (?), and uh...I know I'm forgetting stuff. One of the reasons I'm forgetting is because of this whole side story about a tuxedo-wearing vampire in the basement (or somewhere?) who has entrapped a beautiful young bride by cursing her with immortality. That part is a little confusing, not only because it doesn't intersect with the rest of the movie, but because sometimes it seems contemporary--as the bride struggles to survive the zombie plague--and sometimes it seems like a flashback, as our heroes find what looks like the mummified corpse of the dracula guy, complete with his signet ring. So, I don't know what to tell you really. Those are just some of the things that happen in the movie.

Some people like this a lot, and have supported its ascendance to cult status, which is a huge relief when you know what everyone went through to make this movie, only to have it ripped away from them and used against them. I found SPOOKIES a little hard to take, for all the reasons that the cast and crew express in the documentary. It holds a certain amount of visual fascination, whatever you think of it; something of its original creativity remains evident in the movie's colorful, exaggerated look, and its steady parade of unconvincing but inventive creature effects. But then, you have to deal with the farting muck-men. What was once a scene of terror starring REGULAR muck-men, that sounded incredibly laborious to pull off, became a scene of confusing "comedy" when producer Michael Lee insisted that the creatures be accompanied by a barrage of scatalogical noises. Apparently this was Lee's dream come true, as a guy who insisted everyone pull his finger all the time, and who once tried to call the movie "BOWEL ERUPTOR". But, of all the deformations SPOOKIES endured, the fart sounds dealt a mortal injury to the filmmakers' feelings, and even without knowing that, it's hard to enjoy yourself while that's happening.

Actually, all the farts forced me to ask myself: Is this...a comedy? Like for real, as its main thing? As the movie slogged on, I had to decide that it wasn't, but I was distracted by the notion for around 40 minutes. I was only released from this nagging suspicion when the bride makes her long marathon run through throngs of slavering zombies who swarm her, grope her, and tear off her clothes, before she narrowly escapes to an even worse fate. The lengthy scene is strangely gripping, and sleazy for a movie that sometimes feels like low rent children's entertainment. Part of the sequence’s success lies in its simplicity; it is unburdened by the convoluted complications of the rest of the movie, whose esoteric parts never fall together, so it seems to take on a sustained, intensifying focus. The action itself is unnerving, as the delicate and frankly gorgeous Maria Pechuka is molested and stripped nearly-bare by her undead bachelors, running from one drooling mob to another as the horde nearly engulfs her time and again. Actually, it feels a lot like a certain genre of SOV production in which, for the right price, any old creepy nerd can pay a small crew-for-hire to tape a version of his private fantasy, whether it's women being consumed by slime, or women being consumed by quicksand, or...generally, women being consumed by something. I wish I could describe this form of production in more specific or official terms, because I genuinely think it's wonderful that people do this. Anyway, Pechuka's interminable zombie run feels a little like that, and a little like a grim italian gutmuncher, and a little like an actual nightmare. Perhaps it only stands out against its dubious surroundings, but I kind of love it--and I'm happy to love it, because apparently the late Ms. Pechuka truly loved making SPOOKIES, and wanted other people to love it, too.

Which brings me to the uncomfortable place where I land with this movie. On the one hand...I think it's bad. It's so incoherent, and so insists on its impoverished form of comedy, that it's hard to be as charmed by it as I am by plenty of FX-heavy, no-budget oddities. Perhaps the lingering odor of misery drowns out the sweet joy that the crew once felt in the early days of creation--which is still evident, somehow, in its zany special effects, created by the likes of Gabe Bartalos and other folks whose work you definitely already know and love. But I feel ambivalent, about all of this. On the one hand, I can be a snob, and shit on people for failing to make a movie that meets conventional standards of success. On the other hand, I can be a DIFFERENT kind of snob--a more voyeuristic or even sadistic one--and celebrate the painful failures that produced a movie that is most interesting for its tormented history and its amusing ineptitude. I'm not really sure where I would prefer to settle with SPOOKIES, and movies like it. (As if anything is really "like" SPOOKIES) With all that said, I was left with one soothing thought by castmember Anthony Valbiro in the documentary. At some point, he tells us how ROSEMARY'S BABY is his personal cinematic comfort food; he can put it on at night, after an exhausting day, and drift to sleep, enveloped in its warm, glowing aura. He then says that he hopes there are people out there for whom his movie serves that same purpose, that some of us can have our "milk and cookies moment" with SPOOKIES. Honestly, I choke up just thinking about that.

#blogtober #2020 #spookies #horror #supernatural #vampire #zombie #creature feature #old dark house #cursed film #thomas doran #frank farel #eugenie joseph #michael lee #vipco #twisted souls #brendan faulkner #maria pechuka

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

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do you have any longer frikey fics, preferably bottom frank if theres smut

I do have some longer Frank/Mikey stuff, but no guarantee on bottom Frank!

Longer Frank/Mikey

Emotional Brilliance by kopperblaze, 21k, Mature. Toro and Mikey are a good team, Mikey doesn’t get why Brian had to hire someone else. In particular he doesn’t get why Brian had to hire Frank, who knows nothing about Lush products and who's incapable of keeping his mouth shut. Lush!AU. The one where Ray is a skin care expert, Frank is obnoxious, Mikey is annoyed and Pete leaves glittery handprints all over everything.

Gross roomies by turps, 36k, Explicit. Frank loves living with Mikey. Sure, the apartment is a mess, the kitchen's a toxic wasteland, and there's something growing in the refrigerator that's just a day or two away from becoming sentient, but other than those minor inconveniences, it's all cool. Or it is until Mikey decides to embark on a journey of sexual discovery and adventure and Frank's left at home with nothing but the fridge monster for company. To make matters worse, Mikey insists on telling Frank everything he does with his new kinky friends, right down to the tiniest detail. And now suddenly Frank is best friends with his right hand and he can't stop thinking about Mikey in ways he never has before. The really big problem, other than suddenly being in lust with his best friend, is that Frank isn't sure why.

Won't Know 'til You Begin by knight_tracer, Sena, 24k, Explicit. In which Frank is an accidental pervert, Mikey sleeps with Fabio, Gerard is much too sincere when talking about pain sluts, Ray is terrible with women and great with guitars, and Otter's got really bad taste in music. Alternately, the one where Frank realizes he has a thing for Mikey, Mikey realizes he has a thing for guys, and they're both adorably stupid failboats.

On Air by ladyfoxxx, 15k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank's a radio DJ at an alternative station, spinning punk tracks and talking shit. When he gets handed the most popular show at the station to host, his first guests are independent horror filmmakers Gerard and Mikey Way.

Standing on a Planet that's Evolving and Revolving by Green, 13k, Explicit. The evolution of Frank Iero, age 15.

Buenas Noches From A Lonely Room by Femme (femmequixotic), 15k, Explicit. Frank wants to touch Mikey, to slide his fingers across the sharp angle of his cheek just below his glasses, to drag his thumb along the curve of his bottom lip, to smooth his palm down Mikey's long throat.

What Dreams May Come by sperrywink, 15k, Explicit. His career in music derailed, Frank never met the other guys in My Chemical Romance. A silly tale of teleportation.

a scent and a sound by mwestbelle, 15k, Explicit. In an urban fantasy world where werewolves can't hold a decent job and no roommate wants them, werewolf Frank is looking for an apartment. He finds one with Mikey Way.

Heart Wrapped in Clover by Sena, 19k, Explicit. Everbody's got their not-so-secret secrets on tour. When you live out of a van, you just can't help but notice things that you shouldn't talk about if you don't want to embarrass your friends or start a fight. Frank wishes sometimes they talked about things, though, because he's dying to ask if anybody else has noticed that sometimes, Mikey wears panties.

Tints Verse by turps, 65k, Mature. A MCR AU where Ray has his own gardening firm, and one day he does a job for the Ways.

We Used To Be Friends by ladyfoxxx, 50k, Explicit. "You and me, right Mikes?" "Yeah, fuck everybody else." Best friends since high school, if Frank could've chosen a brother, he'd pick Mikey. Then Mikey became a rock star and Frank... didn't. After years of radio silence, Mikey steps onto a stage in Jersey and back into Frank's life. (Or, the one where Frank is a school teacher and Mikey plays rhythm in The Used.)

And the Painted Ponies by turps, 35k, Mature. After years of struggling to be taken seriously as a bodyguard, Frank Iero is finally well established. He loves his boss, Ray, he loves his job, and he prides himself on his professionalism. But then he's assigned to be the personal bodyguard of Mikey Way. Mikey Way, aka Roboboy, is a successful high fashion model. Loved by designers and the public alike for his trademark lack of emotion, but mocked by the tabloid press for the exact same reason. Mikey is someone that Frank's sure he'll hate. Except it doesn't work out that way. In fact, it doesn't take long before Frank discovers he really likes Mikey. Maybe too much.

Better Than A Paid Life by gala_apples, 15k, Explicit. Gerard and Mikey Way are the Killjoys, a motorbaby duo. That is, until their car gets wrecked in a battle and the dashboard accessory of their new Trans Am is an ex-Companion with a mission.

Crash by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd), 26k, Explicit. In a future version of Seattle, Frank Iero's a lot of things: bike messenger, cage fighter, sometimes thief, Ray Toro's roommate. Mikey Way's also a lot of things: record label owner, co-heir to his grandmother's fortune, younger brother. Neither are normal. But they don't know just how far each other's abnormalities go until Frank's past and a secret of Mikey's unexpectedly shove together. (Dark Angel AU.)

Sound Tracking by turps, 46k, Mature. The beat is muted, almost non-existent, and the loss hits Bob hard. He's used to living his life in a constant thrum of sound, sensing those around him, the rhythm of the universe a constant companion, but here there's almost nothing. He can feel the sound that's been pulling him for weeks now, but little else. This place is dead, almost silent, and Bob aches with the feeling of being cast into nothingness. A MCR - Bob and Gerard centric space AU where Gerard's band has been taken from him and Bob helps find them. Also features FOB, especially Pete.

Drink Cider From a Lemon by turps, 20k, General Audiences. A story about friendship, love and building your own kind of home.

Mikey Way and the Quest for the Stone by Roxy_palace, 29k, Explicit. “I’m in Colombia!” Mikey said, raising his voice over the crackle of a poor connection. “No. no, no, no, no,” James wailed. Mikey could really relate to his disbelief. He couldn't believe he was in mother fucking Colombia either.

Below the Trees, Which Are Below the Stars by alpheratz, 38k, Explicit. In the mid-1920s, Gerard and Mikey moved to France - Gerard to pursue art, Mikey because he couldn't stay behind. Now, it's 1930, and Mikey's become an airmail pilot, flying the mail route to Dakar with his navigator Frank. For a long time, the only rough thing about Mikey's life was the strain on his and Gerard's soulbond when Mikey was away, but his growing feelings for Frank and the arrival of Frank's old friend Ray could change everything.

Food of Love by Lucifuge5, 12k, Teen And Up Audiences. Ever since it re-opened, Frank's been "Sweet Nothings"'s number one customer. That he harbors a gigantic crush on one of the owners is something that he's kept to himself for the most part (Ray will never tell a soul.) It's not until he strikes a friendship with the older brother of the object of his affection that he 'fesses up. Moved by Frank's pining, Gerard promises to help Frank woo Mikey. Complications arise when Gerard's "helpful advice" is anything but. Will Frank be successful in his courtship or are his chances to win Mikey's heart as ruined as a burnt cupcake?

You Only Hear The Music (When Your Heart Begins To Break) by Acadjonne, 28k, Mature. Mikey and Frank have known each other for years. They're roommates, and best friends. They're also friends with benefits. The arrangement is casual, and it suits them both. Somewhere along the way, Mikey develops feelings for Frank, but he pushes them aside. They aren't important, he'll be fine. Or, Mikey is fine, until he somehow ends up pregnant a year into this thing with Frank, and all of a sudden, he's got more to deal with than just how long he'll be able to hide his feelings for Frank or how the hell he's supposed to afford his transition.

Give Me A Reason To Believe (Failboats In Love) by Acadjonne, 14k, Teen And Up Audiences. On the night of October 31st, Linda and Frank Iero welcome a baby boy into their family. He weighs six pounds, four ounces, and is nineteen inches long. They give him a family name, and he becomes the third Iero man to bear the name of Frank. A year later, on All Hallow's Eve, a sleeping baby is taken from his crib and replaced with a fake. The babe will later be taken from the hands of the goblin that stole him, and he will be raised by two rowan treefolk, a house brownie, and some pixies. ----- When Ray walks down the stairs to the Way family basement, the last thing Mikey expects to see is a scrappy and long-haired form following behind him. But as he later finds out, Frank is almost always unexpected in the best of ways, the rest of the world be damned.

Death's Muse by TheFratelliEffect, 53k [WIP], Mature. Lonely and depressed, Mikey Way is battling through the drab years that immediately follow college. Struggling to make a living as an artist, Mikey has became a battered down, quiet introvert whom wants nothing to do with the abusive romance he is unwillingly involved in. On a cold winter morning, the starving artist is confronted with the opportunity to paint Frank Iero, the Midnight Falls' elusive, young doctor, which he takes up immediately. Love and lust ensure as the story opens on the painter as he meets his muse.

Gallons Of The Stuff by MCRmyGeneral, 20k, Explicit. Frank has been amused by blood for as long as he can remember. When he was a child, it was a simple fascination; the way it felt on his hands, the way it looked dripping to the floor, the way it smelled. But as he grew older, that simple fascination morphed into a daring lust. Blood no longer amused him, now it turned him on. Frank has never intentionally hurt someone just to see their blood. He just takes what he can get whenever an accident happens. But when Mikey is hurt bad, Frank discovers how hard it is to keep his hands, and thoughts, to himself. He loves Mikey, he has for a long time. But now, he finds his silence so much harder to keep. He has two choices: either tell Mikey how he feels, about him and his blood, and risk scaring him away, or keep quiet, and never let the man know how much he means to him. Whatever he chooses, he knows that someone will get hurt.

#frank/mikey #fic rec list #frikey

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wizard-loving-wizard · 3 years

Text

TAZ November Celebration - Day 5 “Rockstar”

@taznovembercelebration

I have a few TAZ fics in progress, so I reeeally wanted to write something for the TAZ November Celebration! Enjoy some Taakitz, some Blupjeans, and some rock ‘n’ roll shenangians. (Rating: M)

Taako was bummed. He hadn't heard from the mysterious Kravitz all day. It wasn't unheard of for Taako to allow one of his fans to enjoy his fleeting company for one night only while he was on tour, but he really liked this Kravitz. He definitely thought he'd get a call back—that's why he’d left his number on the motel nightstand.

It was a shame. Kravitz was cute, in the excessively sexy goth-punk kinda way. He was also a dorky kind of funny, and annoyingly smart. He wrote for a local music magazine (!!!) and seemed to actually love Taako’s band. (“I didn’t come here for work, by the way. Not yet. I just love your music,” He’d said so casually, as if that wasn’t the sexiest thing a goth music writer could ever say.)

Taako had preened across the tall, sticky table, and when he pointed to the motel down the street, Kravitz was surprised but enthusiastic. They spent the night together, and it was very fun.

As his band set up for their next show at the same bar, Taako was losing hope. He hadn’t heard anything from Kravitz all day. This was their last night in Neverwinter, so it was mere hours before he would have to leave Kravitz behind for good. Plus, Taako kept catching the drummer being all romantic with his long-term girlfriend who was on tour with them, and normally that didn’t bother him, but today it made him lonely.

So Taako was already in a shitty mood when Merle marched onto the stage right before soundcheck, clacking his cellphone closed and announcing, “Bad news.”

Taako threw a nervous look over to his sister, who was messing with around with her bass on the other side of the stage. She looked up, equally confused.

“Johann isn’t coming,” Merle said.

Taako’s jaw dropped open.

“What?” Magnus asked, standing up behind his drum kit at the back of the stage.

“Dammit,” Lup muttered.

Taako glanced around at his band mates and his dejected manager. “Are you sure there’s no way he can stay?”

Merle shook his head, saying, “His mom is sick. He’s already in a taxi heading to the airport.”

“Damn.”

Magnus pouted, dropping his drumsticks against the snare sadly. “So, what? We can’t play?”

“No, not without a keyboardist.” Lup delivered the diagnosis with a grim look.

Before Taako could come up with any other ideas, they were resolved to take a break and pack everything back up in an hour. Once the rest of his band had cleared out the stage, Taako dejectedly settled his guitar into its stand. The bar was calling to him, so he hopped off the front of the stage to go get a drink.

In a surprisingly wonderful turn of events, he only made it halfway there before he stopped in his tracks, watching a familiar tall-dark-and-handsome step inside the front door. Could it be?

Taako weaved around to the front, until he made it into the purview of Kravitz’s scanning gaze. Kravitz brightened and said, “Taako!”

“Kravitz!” Taako greeted back, waving, and then remembered that this was the bitch who didn’t call him back.

Kravitz rushed up to him flustered and said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t call.”

Taako blinked in surprise.

He looked embarrassed. “My cat shredded your note before I could put your number in my phone.”

Taking the blushing as a sign of honesty, Taako threw back his head laughing. “No way!” His stomach warmed as he stared into Kravitz’s sweet eyes and realized why he was here.

“Yes, she’s still just a kitten.”

“Awww.” Taako remembered seeing pictures of the little black kitten last night, he thought, somewhere between his second margarita and third tequila shot. He leaned in a bit closer and resisted the urge to pull on all the things hanging off Kravitz’s stupid chic black clothes. He said, “Well, thanks for coming by. But there’s no show tonight, our keyboardist bailed.”

Kravitz looked around and then pouted. “Oh no! You guys can’t play?”

“Not unless someone in this bar can read sheet music,” Taako said.

But Kravitz had an electric look in his eyes. “Actually, I might know someone who can help.”

Lup had drank three beers alone in the closet being passed off as a green room, and she wanted the fourth to be different. She stumbled around backstage with two glass bottles in her hands, humming the Fantasy Costco theme under her breath and searching for her brother.

She found someone else before she found Taako: a human man coming in through the back door, looking like the last person that would ever patron this dive bar. Lup waltzed down the hallway towards him, screaming, “Hey!”

He jumped, staring back at Lup with exactly the amount of fear she wanted everyone to have when they first met her.

She smirked and walked closer. “You lost, thug?”

“Um,” The guy said, giving a cautious eye to the bottles in her hands. “No, actually, my friend told me—are you in the band?”

Lup snorted. “In it? Please, I practically am the band. I’m Lup,” She said, and juggled the beers into one hand so she could extend the other.

He shook it hesitantly. “Barry. I heard you needed a keyboardist?”

“Yes!” Lup jumped in excitement, almost losing both bottles, but managing to cradle them close. “You play piano? Can you read sheet music?” Barry was cute, and he was looking cuter every second.

“Yes, but—”

“Sick! Come with me,” Lup instructed, and grabbed Barry’s arm to pull him towards the green room.

“Have you—”

“Go in here.” Lup pushed him into the closet, following close behind him. She set the beers down and starting rifling through a bag for the folder she needed. When she found it, she slammed it onto the table in front of Barry. “Here’s your music.”

“I…” Barry trailed off, glancing through the folder experimentally. Then he looked at Lup. “Do you know where Kravitz is?”

“I have no idea who that is, buddy,” Lup announced happily. But Barry looked sad, so she revised, “How about you stay here and learn your chords, and I’ll go find him.”

Barry sat in the creaky folding chair and muttered, “Fine.”

Lup started to head out, ready to totally forget who she was looking for, but Barry stopped her.

“Wait, what’s the name of your band?”

Lup furrowed her brow. “It’s in there,” She said, pointing to the music he was looking at. “The Astral Complainers.”

“Huh,” Barry said quietly, and then smiled at Lup. “That’s pretty good.”

Lup smirked. “Thanks.” She almost darted out of the room, but hung off the doorframe to tell him, “If I find everyone, soundcheck starts in 10.”

As she skipped down the hall towards the stage, she heard Barry call after her: “If?”

“Fuck…shit,” Taako swore as Kravitz kissed his neck. The tour van was a pretty terrible spot to make out, but as annoying as the limited space was, there was something about being stuck in Kravitz’s lap that Taako definitely liked. As Kravitz ran his hands under Taako’s t-shirt, Taako squeezed his arms tighter around Kravitz’s neck.

Kravitz looked up and licked his lips. Taako couldn’t even take in a breath before he had to kiss him.

And that was when the door swung open.

“Ahh!” Taako shrieked at the sound. He jumped and turned and leaned all at once, sending himself tumbling to the floor, seeing his sister’s angry face on the way down. Shit shit shit shit shit, Taako swore inside his head, enjoying his new view of the dirty van carpet.

He heard Kravitz say, “Taako! Are you okay?”

Taako struggled to untangle his legs from the seat. “Ow. Yes! I’m fine!” He lied.

“You must be Kravitz,” Lup’s voice said, and Taako had no idea how she knew that, but it couldn’t be good that she did. He twisted and turned on the ground, trying to free himself.

“Yes, I’m—yes. Did Taako tell you…?”

“No. Barry’s here.”

“Great!” Taako announced, thought it was mostly muffled by the floor. He finally pulled himself up onto the seat next to Kravitz. “I saved the show!”

But Lup was not impressed. “Nu-uh. No boys in the van, no exceptions. You know that.”

“I mean, Kravitz saved the show!” Taako reached over to grab Kravitz’s arm, smiling sweetly. “I had to thank him.”

The way Kravitz smiled back, Taako couldn’t stop himself from leaning across the aisle, caressing his arm softly, and—

“Hey! Cut it out!” Lup said, and he felt a smack on his shoulder.

Taako’s face warmed as he looked back at his sister. “Sorry.”

“Whatever. Let’s go, we have soundcheck, now.”

Taako was already reaching for Kravitz’s hand when he said, “I should come and thank Barry.”

Taako smiled. “Perfect.”

Soundcheck went well. Really well. Afterwards, as Taako ran off to canoodle with the Hot Topic model some more, Lup was thinking that Barry’s skills far surpassed just reading sheet music. She went to corner him at the back of the stage, and got Magnus’s blessing of a wink and a swift exit.

Lup hadn’t realized she was so obvious. She knew she shouldn’t have kept turning around so much while they were playing. Taako probably had no idea anyways; with the handsome silken vampire hanging around, he had the biggest hearts in his eyes she’d ever seen.

“Hey. Barry. Good job.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I hope it sounds okay, let me know if—”

“It sounds great,” Lup promised, leaning gently on the keyboard and giving him a little smile. Water, she remembered, for her tipsy-ness and her voice. She took a drink from her water bottle and then said, “You’re good, do you work in music?”

Barry laughed nervously. “Yes, but, not this kind of music.”

“Aw,” Lup teased, batting her eyelashes at him. “Do you work in pop music, Barry?”

“No,” Barry said. “I write for the classical music section of the Neverwinter Music Magazine.”

Lup just stared at him for a second, a bit transfixed at his little attitude. She stood up straight, bit back her smirk, and said, “Okay. Classical. That’s fancy.” Then she had a thought. “Is that how you know Kravitz? Through—”

Lup got distracted when she noticed Barry staring at something behind her. She turned to look out to the bar area, where Taako was posing against a wall wearing Kravitz’s black cape, and Kravitz was standing two feet back taking pictures of him on a phone.

Lup looked back at Barry, who was smiling and shaking his head again, and she finished her question, asking, “Work?”

“Look at me,” Barry said, gesturing to his plain t-shirt and jeans. “If he didn’t have to sit next to me for eight hours straight every day, there’s no way he would be friends with me.”

Lup giggled. “He writes about, what, steampunk remixes?”

“Wrong again. Try good ol’ rock ‘n’ roll.”

Lup clicked her tongue. “You boys are something else here in Neverwinter.” She watched Barry give her an awkward look.

He said, “How long are you in town, by the way?”

“Tonight’s our last night,” Lup said. She shrugged, stepping even closer to the keyboard and leaning over it to tell Barry, “Gotta make the most of it while it lasts.” She smirked and backed away.

Turning around to look out at the crowd, Lup set down her water bottle next to her bass. She readjusted her mic stand, watching a group of six more people flood into the bar.

She walked back over to Barry and caught him just before he made it offstage. “Hey,” She said, stopping him. “Have a drink before the show. Just a beer. It’ll help with the nerves.”

Barry stared at her blankly for a moment, and then claimed, “I’m not nervous.”

“Barry, I have eyes. I can see that you’re about to shit your pants.” Lup pulled a coin out of her pocket and tried to hand it to him. “On me. I can’t have one, I’ve already had three.”

“Oh, no, it’s—”

“Barry,” Lup stopped him. “I’m a famous rockstar. I can afford it.” She pushed the gold into his hand and pushed him offstage.

Barry was standing at the back of the stage, hitting chords on someone else’s keyboard, and watching Lup rock out on her bass as she sang for the crowd. Her voice pure and strong, her hands playing deftly, her hair whipping around, she was the most beautiful person Barry had ever seen. He watched her, useless and trapped behind the keyboard, heart jumping around every time she turned around to come play next to him or just to wink at him. Barry liked this band. He liked this crowd more than he thought he would. And he liked Lup.

Maybe not as much as Kravitz liked Taako, Barry considered, watching his coworker jump and scream in front of Taako. Kravitz had been frantic that morning at work, rambling about a bar, an elf, and Coconut Milk (his completely black cat). When Barry had calmed him down enough to explain what happened, Kravitz acted like Taako was his soulmate. Maybe he was right, Barry thought, watching Taako shake and shimmy with his guitar, obviously staring only at Kravitz. Whatever was happening there, he was happy his friend seemed so happy.

Weird that he was then crushing on Taako’s twin sister, but maybe Barry didn’t really care. All he felt like caring about was watching Lup jump around in her fishnets, shorts, and ripped black shirt. He felt the bass deep in his stomach as he played, and tried not to think about how much fun he was having.

They played loud and rocked hard. The audience loved it, and Lup ended the show sweaty and high on adrenaline. This was when she felt on top of the world. The crowd roared in her face, still cheering, and she stood to watch it happen, swinging her bass back and forth. She smirked down at the fans right in front of her, and then over at Taako, who was glowing.

Lup remembered herself and turned around, immediately walking to the back of the stage. She stepped around the keyboard and pulled Barry into a one-armed hug. “Good show. You killed it,” She said, giving him a small smile, and she liked the nervous little smile she got from Barry in return.

“Great show, you guys,” Merle told them backstage. The five of them were a bit cramped for space in the tiny area, and Lup accidentally jabbed her elbow into Barry’s side.

“Ow!” He said.

“Lup, stop that,” Merle said, and flipped through his pages until he found the right one. “Right. Here’s the schedule for tonight.”

Lup stood up straighter and looked over at Barry to teasingly glare at him.

“We pack up in an hour, I need you back here, in an hour,” Merle repeated, for their benefit. “Then I’ll let you know what time we’re leaving.”

“Yes, sir,” Magnus said.

Merle looked up at them expectantly and said, “Don’t die, don’t kill anyone else, and don’t get married.” And then he was gone.

“What an inspirational man,” Taako remarked.

Magnus said, “Great show, Barry. Thanks. Gotta go!” and ran towards the bar, presumably to tackle his girlfriend at the merch table.

The door hadn’t even swung shut when someone else grabbed it and walked through to backstage—Kravitz. “Taako!” He said.

“Kravitz!” Taako shouted.

Kravitz ran down the hall, crying to Taako, “You were so good, it was such a good show,” and then they were kissing, a shiny black cape flying around and jewelry clacking together.

Lup took a step back to give them a bit more space, and she gave Barry a silly look over her shoulder as she squished closer to him.

Once Kravitz could pull his face away, he rushed over to Barry, saying, “Barry, you were so good, you did amazing.” He wrapped his arms around Barry’s head in an interesting-looking hug, and Lup just stepped back to glance at Taako.

He was also leaning back, and giving her a concerned looking and mouthing, BARRY?

Lup just shrugged, and nodded.

“—you are a rockstar, Barry, I always knew it—”

Then, Lup held up a hand at Taako. Then two fingers. And then mouthed, GOTH. CLOWN.

Taako held up his middle finger, and Lup flipped him off right back, and that was the exact second Kravitz and Barry turned around.

“What—”

“Nothing,” Taako said, and starting pulling Kravitz towards the bar. “Remember, we’re—”

“To, going to the—”

“The place.”

“Yeah. Bye!” Kravitz yelled, and they disappeared through the door.

When the door slammed back shut, Lup looked over at Barry.

He gave her a nervous smile and said, “Thanks for letting me play with you, and thanks for helping me.” He motioned to the back door. “I should get—”

“You can’t leave,” Lup interrupted. “Have a drink with me.”

Barry looked surprised. “It’s pretty late, I—”

“Please?” Lup asked nicely.

Forty-five minutes later, Lup and Barry were each on their third cocktails. They were at a low table by the bar, and the music and crowd were defeneningly loud. Lup threw back her drink and stared intently at Barry. “I don’t want to shout!” She shouted.

He blinked. “What?”

“You look like a girl scout!”

“...I can’t hear you!”

Lup rolled her eyes. “Do you want to make out?”

“Yes,” Barry said.

Lup stared at him, wondering if her half-joking question had worked or if he was fucking with her. She stared at his discerning, hesitant face, and couldn’t tell a thing. So she shifted closer to him, leaning in until her face was inches away from his.

He stared into her eyes.

“Sure about that, Mozart?”

Barry didn’t say anything, and he didn’t move.

So Lup kissed him, squishing their noses together and holding him still in the bouncing bar. Barry pushed forwards and reached for her shoulder, so she held his face and kissed him deeper.

“Barry,” She whispered contentedly when they readjusted and broke apart for half a second. She kissed him, pulling him as close as possible. Barry kissed her back steady and gentle, seeming fairly sure of himself for a man who tried to escape out the back door an hour ago.

Lup arrived backstage exactly when Merle expected her, towing Barry behind her, holding her hand. They joined Magnus and Julia, who were closely intertwined, and Kravitz and Taako, looking a bit too pleased with themselves.

Merle looked at Lup’s hand hanging tightly onto Barry and said, “Oh, jeez.”

Kravitz held up a little thumbs-up to Barry.

“Okay, look,” Merle explained, “The owner had some cancellations and now she has a few more open spots this week. She wants us to stay ‘til Thursday.”

Taako gasped in delight, but Magnus said, “But we don’t have Johann!”

Everyone looked over at Barry, so Lup turned to him, and smiled. “Whaddya say, will you play with us?” She asked.

“Um, yeah—yes,” Barry said.

Lup laughed and hugged him. She heard Taako and Magnus cheering. She gave Barry one last squeeze around the shoulders and let him go, turning back to face Merle. “Yeah, I think we should stay here a bit longer.”

“Let’s do it!” Magnus yelled.

“The ayes have it,” Merle declared. “Forget tear-down, you are officially free to par-tay.”

They all whooped and cheered, and it felt like New Year’s Eve when Lup pulled Barry in to kiss his cheek under a karaoke night poster.

Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to see more of my writing, all my info is here.

#taznc #taz november celebration #taz #taakitz #blupjeans #taz balance #mine*

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pudding-head-kenma · 4 years

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bruh pls lemme know some good movies to watch :-: like what're your favs bby??

IJASKGNBINHSOKGLASKMGAS OH MY GOD I’M SO EXCITED YES :D THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME W THAT I’LL RECOMMEND SOME GOOD ONES + GIVE THEIR GENRE/SYNOPSIS . PROBABLY LONG LIST BELOW THE CUT !!:

1. LET’S START WITH MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE MOVIE: mulholland drive - a drama, a mystery and lowkey a thriller - after a car crash, a woman loses her memory. she finds help from a young actress that just recently came to hollywood and together they try to get her memory back, and find out why the amnesiac woman has so much money on her. as they get involved in mysteries, schemes and the hidden parts of hollywood, they fall deeper into a world that they aren’t even sure is real.

2. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind - i would call this a romantic drama! - basically it’s about a couple whose relationship turns sour, and they decide to get a procedure that will delete their memories of each other. it’s honestly such an interesting movie and it’s really tense as you watch strangers, once lovers, dance around each other and systematically forget they have done it

3. magnolia - i would call this a drama - it’s basically a bunch of stories complied into a movie, with characters SEEMINGLY unrelated trying to learn about love, forgiveness, and the meaning of life, lives separated but much closer than they know

4. the music never stopped - drama! - it’s basically the story of a father trying to bond with his estranged son, who recently discovered he has a brain tumour that prevents him from forming new memories. his dad, left without a choice, tries to connect with him through music

5. american beauty - drama - it’s really hard to give this a synopsis, and the ones i see aren’t all that accurate. it’s true that a suburban dad has a lot of sexual frustration, but that’s not necessarily the essence of a movie - it’s a family with a lot of pent up feelings, frustrations, and others

6. gisaengchung (parasite) - drama, thriller(?) - i think everyone might know this movie already but it’s definitely worth mentioning! it’s hard to describe, but try to think of the differences between a high class family and a lower class one. what if hte lower class starts trying to profit from the others? that’s when greed comes into play

7. byōsoku go senchimētoru (5 centimeters per second) - i’d call this a romantic drama, but not with all the focus on romance. romance is the undertone for the drama - this is an animated movie told in 3 instances of someone’s life, when he fell in love as a child, when he lost that love as a teen, and when he’s trying to get over that love, surrounded by the cold world and adult obligations.

8. lost in translation - drama, comedy (i say comedy not bc it’s a comedy just because it’s light hearted yknow) - a washed out actor travels to tokyo for a commercial, where he meets a young woman. they form a bond and start an unlikely friendship.

9. the night of the hunter - it’s a noir film, i’d say a bit more than thriller but not exactly HORROR, crime - a religious fanatic marries into the family of a gullible widow and her two kids. only the kids know their father hid $10,000 from a bank robbery, and there’s something strange about their step dad.

10. beasts of the southern wild - adventure, drama, fantasy (?) - this is a really good take on environmental issues in my opinion. a six year old has to learn courage and love as she deals with her father's fading health and melting ice-caps that are flooding her ramshackle bayou community

11. green room - horror, thriller - a punk rock band is forced to fight for survival after witnessing a murder at a bar. this movie is so nice to watch because it flows really well and you feel really tense

12. inglourious basterds - war, drama, adventure - in france, during the second world war, a group of jewish u.s soldiers come up with a plan to take down nazi leaders, not knowing the owner of a theatre is planning something with the same objective

13. amour - drama, romance - an octogenarian couple’s love is tested when the wife has a stroke, and the husband sees himself forced to change his whole life to take care of her.

14. rosemary’s baby - thriller, horror(?) - a young couple trying to have a baby moves into a fancy apartment, surrounded by peculiar neighbours. once the wife gets pregnant, she becomes convinced that the neighbours are trying to steal her baby for a satantic cult

15. moonlight - drama - the struggles of childhood, adolescence and adulthood, as told by an african american man struggling with his identity and sexuality.

16. el laberinto del fauno (pan’s labyrinth) - drama, war, i’d say thriller sometimes - in the falangist spain in 1944, a bookish young stepdaughter of a sadistic army officer escapes into an eerie but captivating fantasy world

17. oldeuboi - action, mystery - a man is kidnapped and kept prisoner for 15 years. once he’s finally out, he discovers he has to find his captor in 5 days so he can find out why he was kidnapped. in the meantime, he starts a peculiar involvement with a much younger woman, and uncovers secrets he didn’t know he had kept

18. låt den rätte komma in (let the right one in) - crime, drama, fantasy(?) - an overlooked and peculiar boy finds love and revenge in an even more peculiar girl

19. birdman (or the unexpected virtue of ignorance) - a washed-up superhero actor attempts to revive his fading career by writing, directing, and starring in a broadway production. this movie’s synopsis doesn’t give it the proper emphasis but it’s so good. it’s also all shot in the sequence of a day (obviously there’s cuts, but you can’t see them so it looks like only 1 shot and it becomes an amazing experience)

20. the blair witch project - horror - three film students vanish after traveling into a Maryland forest to film a documentary on the local Blair Witch legend, leaving only their footage behind. this movie was one of the first ‘found footage’ films that really sent the genre flying, i would highly recommend

21. for the same reasons above, i recommend [REC] (the spanish one), as it also brought found footage films to the public in the beginning. it’s about a journalist who finds herself stuck on a building with the infected, since the police decided to sacrifice everyone inside for the sake of the virus not getting out.

22. salinui chueok (memories of murder) [trigger: mention of r*pe] - action, crime, drama - in a small Korean province in 1986, two detectives struggle with the case of multiple young women being found raped and murdered by an unknown culprit

23. once - music, drama - a story about a pianist and a guitarist coming together and trying to live out their struggles through music.

24. gokseong (the wailing) - mystery, horror, thriller - soon after a stranger arrives in a little village, a mysterious sickness starts spreading. a policeman, drawn into the incident, is forced to solve the mystery in order to save his daughter.

#THOSE WERE ALL I COULD RMR OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD #I HOPE IT HELPS ANON #anon <3 #danie recs!

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maudanouk · 3 years

Text

NEW FACE OF LANNY IN VIENNA

ACT I SCENE I

Italy, Rome, the Vatican reception hall. VOIELLO and SOFIA are waiting at the popes desk. The YOUNG POPE enters the stage with a plain plate in his hands.

„This is the sort of merchandise im prepared to authorise.“ He says.

„But it doesn’t have your image on it!“ Sofia answers.

„I do not have an image, my good lady, because I am no one. You understand? No one. Only Christ exists. Only Christ. And I am not worth forty-five, or even five euros. I am worth nothing.“

„I don’t understand, Holy Father.“

„Of Course you don’t, because, as you said earlier, you studied at Harvard. And Harvard is a place in decline where you were taught to lower yourselves. Where as here, in the Vatican, we try to elevate ourselves. Who exactly is in charge of curating the image of the pope?“

„The Secretary of State entrusted that delicate task to me, Holy Father, two years ago.“

„Very good. And now I’m going to tell you what you as curator of the image of the Holy Father, are gonna do. You are gonna fire the Vatican’s official photographer immediately. No photographs of the pope are to be issued. Just as there were none when I was a cardinal or a bishop. Do you know why? I never allowed my picture to be taken. And when someone managed to sneak a photograph of me I always bought them up before they could be published. Now that I think about it. I’ve been training my whole life to be an invisible pope.

And so, for my first adress, you will see to it that the lightning is so dim, no photographer, no TV cameraman, and not even the faithful will see anything of me but a dark shadow, my silhouette. They will not see me because I do not exist.“

„If I may, Holy Father, what you are proposing is nothing short of suicide, media suicide.“

„Media suicide, you say? Fine. Now try to keep up with me, if you can.“

„I’m right with you, Holy Father.“

„Good. OK, so, who is the most important author of the last twenty years? Careful now, not the best, virtuosity is for the arrogant, the most important, the author who has sparked so much morbid curiosity that he became the most important.“

„I wouldn’t know. I’d say… Philip Roth?“

„No. Salinger. The most important film director?“

„Spielberg.“

„No. Kubrick. Contemporary artist?“

„Jeff Koons. Or Marina Abramovic.“

„Banksy. Electronic music group?“

„I don’t know the first thing about electronic music.”

“You say Harvard is a good university! Anyway, Daft Punk!”

„The best Italian Vocalist?“ Voiello interrupts.

„Mina?“ I answer.

„Brava! Now do you know what it is what the invisible red thread is that connects them all, all these most important figures in their respective fields? None of them let themselves be seen. None of them let themselves be photographed.“ The pope answers.

„But you’re not an artist, Holy Father. You are a head of state.“

„Yes, of a city state so small that it doesn’t have an outlet to the sea. And in order to survive it’s leader has to make himself as unreachable as a rock star. The Vatican survives thanks to the hyperbole. So we, we shall generate hyperbole but this time in reverse.“

„I’m beginning to get your point, Holy father. Yes, not only am I beginning to get it. I’m beginning to like it, too.“

„Good. Very good.“ [1]

ACT I SCENE II

The Off. It’s dark. Only the NARRATORS voice can be heard.

The pope [...] was possessed by a veritable rage for acquiring and storing up knowledge.[2] Wanting to know is an offspring of the desire for power, the striving for expansion, existence, sexuality, pleasure, enjoyment of the self, and for anesthetizing the necessity of dying.[3] He is large minded, not through knowledge, but through the power of acquiring it; he is open minded, intelligent, ready for anything, and, as Montaigne says, capable of learning if not learned. [4] As knowledge and will are attributed to God, so is power. Further, as the power of God is infinite, so is His knowledge.[5] The young pope is searching for a way to acquire as much knowledge as possible. He thinks about buying Alphabet. In the end, more than in God it is necessary to believe in yourself, Lenny.

God does not shout.

God does not whisper.

God does not write.

God does not hear.

God does not chat.

God's infinite silence...[5]

What if god shouted, whispered, wrote, heard, chatted and broke his silence? What if god had Instagram.

ACT II SCENE I

Austria, Vienna, 3rd district at Parkgasse 18. The WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE enters the stage, surrounded by its garden and neighbourhood.

The house is thinking: How can I help Lanny to reach the eartheners? I need to understand them. But as I cannot move they have to come to me. I need to offer them something they desire so they can not resist. They are the bees and I’m the honey.

I remember a story an old friend once told me: “There was once a young man who dreamed of reducing the world to pure logic. Because he was a very clever young man, he actually managed to do it. When he’d finished his work, he stood back and admired it. It was beautiful. a world purged of imperfection and indeterminacy, countless acres of gleaming ice stretch into the horizon. So the clever young man looked around the world he’d created and decided to explore it. He took one step forward and fell flat on his back. you see, he’d forgotten about friction. The ice was smooth and level and stainless. But you couldn’t walk there. So the clever young man sat down and wept bitter tears. But as he grew into a wise old man, he came to understand that roughness and ambiguity aren’t imperfections, they’re what make the world turn. He wanted to run and dance. And the words and things scattered upon the ground were all battered and tarnished and ambiguous. The wise old man saw that that was the way things were. But something in him was still homesick for the ice, where everything was radiant and absolute and relentless. Though he had come to like the idea of the rough ground, he couldn’t bring himself to live there. So now he was marooned between earth and ice, at home in neighter.” [6]

I am a contradiction. [7]

A nightclub and a spa,

sin and salvation,

extasy, excess, gambling and baptism,

doubt and hope,

mystery and logic,

ornamented and functional,

hell and heaven,

baroque and modern,

I am dionysos and apollon.

ACT II SCENE II

Austria, Vienna, 1st district. AVA sitting at a desk.

The phone rings. [8] She opens the message.. „My dearest friends there’s one spectacular party in the making! Join us tonight in the Wittgenstein House to another legendary night. Make sure to wear your most luxurious textiles and we take care of your deepest desires.“

ACT II SCENE III

Austria, Vienna, 3rd district at Parkgasse 18. It’s night but the garden is enlightened by the colourful lights emerging the windows. The WITTGENSTEIN HOUSE is emitting visual, audible and perceptible vibrations. The air smells of Un Jardin en Méditerranée. A car enters stage right. Inside are AVA, LUX, EMMA and NOVA.

We arrive at the Wittgenstein House. It’s one o’clock, time for some ecstasy. I divide the crystals into four parts and hand them to the others. I take the last one and we step out of our taxi. Instantly we are surrounded by an electric atmosphere. People get chauffeured around in Mercedes Benz with Cristal champagne.[9] On inspecting the entrance facade, you can discover a series of metaphors and symbolic signs.[10] The bass seems to shake the walls. Bright lights in countless colours emerge through the windows. Life is fantastic. It would be too strong to call this fantasy a portal to Hell, but it is surely no entrance to a Heavenly Jerusalem.

The party begins as people are moving in, gathering in the entrance hall and taking a stand up cocktail.[11] There is champagne, caviar and fireworks.[12] Ahead, some distance from the entrance, is a great mural of brilliant color.[13] Opulent Ornaments, heavy textiles, reflecting surfaces. The materials come from the everyday domestic sphere, much having to do with ornamenting the body: copper and brass wire, buttons, beads, baubles, hooks, eyes, straps, false fingernails, makeup, hair, ribbons, lace, thread, shells, feathers, and bones. The amulets are fetishes, beautiful ornamental objects, and they are connected to the fetishism of architectural representation.[14]

following... experience of other chambers:

sauna is heat, sweat, cleansing, liberation, relief

spa is warm, soft, welcoming, salvation

etc.

[1] The Young Pope

[2] Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris

[3] Sloterdijk, Critique of Cynical Reason

[4] Rousseau, Collected Works of Jean-Jacques Rousseau

[5] Aquinas, Summa Theologica

[6] The Young Pope

[7] The Young Pope

[8] Cixous, Reveries of the Wild Woman

[9] Hovestadt Buehlmann, Quantum City

[10] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968

[11] Schumacher, The Autopoiesis of Architecture Vol 2

[12] Carter, Anthony Blunt His Lives

[13] Ockmann, Architecture Culture 1943 1968

[14 ]Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968

#maudanouk #text

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aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Cruella: Does Every Villain Need a Sympathetic Origin Story?

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Clearly this isn’t your parents’ Cruella De Vil. This isn’t even your Cruella De Vil. However, there is something fiendishly charming about seeing Emma Stone charge into a ballroom and light her black and white dress on fire, revealing a chic red number beneath that would do Scarlett O’Hara proud. If fashion is a statement, Cruella is here to say the villain has just arrived!

Yet one can’t help but shake the certainty that by the time we actually learn the plot of Disney’s Cruella reimagining, Cruella will be in anything but black and white, or fiery red. Rather Cruella is obviously posturing to take a sideways approach to an old classic. But then again, that increasingly feels like the only direction these Hollywood redos know: the sympathetic origin story for an iconic villain.

To be clear, we’ve only gotten a glimpse of Stone as the new Cruella, and she looks absolutely fabulous in a black leather coat and cane, purring, “I’m only getting started, darling.” There’s a wildness about this interpretation befitting our current era where Harley Quinn is the hero of her own story, and Wade Wilson now leads a Disney franchise. Nevertheless, when I watch Cruella on the edge of tears in the trailer, barking defiantly that she is CRUELLA—and seemingly embracing an unfair reputation that other characters may be placing on her—a nagging question persists in the back of my head: Do we really need a sympathetic Cruella De Vil?

The trend of supervillains getting intellectual property-expanding sob stories is nothing new, be it at Disney or anywhere else in Hollywood. Maybe 25 years ago when folks liked their villains big and outlandish—think Glenn Close in Disney’s previous live-action remake of 101 Dalmatians—it was novel to see the antagonist become a tragic protagonist. But like everything else with modern blockbusters, that all changed a long, long time ago with something called Star Wars.

Back in 1977 when the original Star Wars movie was released, many audience members left the theater giddy about the world George Lucas created. In a galaxy far, far away, every pop fantasy of the mid-20th century—Wizards! Knights! Princesses! Samurai! World War II ace pilots!—was thrown into a massive cauldron that seamlessly blended these elements.

Luke Skywalker’s galaxy felt like a real place of exotic, lived-in locales, all of which captured that dirt-under-the-fingertips, tactile quality so rarely seen in fantasy stories. Sure the characters might be archetypes, but they came with histories which gave their fantasy space battles human density. Old Ben Kenobi fought in the Clone Wars with Luke’s father Anakin, who was “a gifted pilot.” But what exactly was a clone war? And why was there more than one of them? Also, what did a Jedi’s “more civilized age” look like for Luke’s papa?

For more than 20 years, no one knew the answer to those questions, which made them all the more intriguing, and the “lore” of this fantasy evermore mythic. Then came Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, the first modern blockbuster prequel devoted to filling in the gaps left by a beloved classic’s mysteries. That movie’s problems are numerous, but at its core the most persistent, lingering issue may still be the reveal that Darth Vader was once a blonde haired little boy with the emotional range of Beaver Cleaver. Of course everyone knew in the abstract sense Vader was once a child… but did they ever really want to see it?

Additionally, did anyone really want to learn Anakin Skywalker’s reason for turning to the Dark Side is because of a bratty streak that followed him into adulthood? Probably not.

Nonetheless, all three Star Wars prequels made massive amounts of money and rather than becoming cautionary tales of what happens when you attempt to explain away all the mysteries of a beloved character, they were the first steps toward a modern staple of media regurgitation where seemingly every mug, pug, and thug would get their own sympathetic redo.

Since then, we’ve learned on screen that Spider-Man’s arch-nemesis Venom, is really a well-intentioned bloke caught in a bad romance (with his alien space buddy), Batman’s arch-nemesis the Joker is really just a Travis Bickle clone with mommy issues, and Maleficent, the reigning empress of badassery in the Disney Villain canon, was really just a woman scorned by Sleeping Beauty’s toxic father. Even Hannibal Lecter became a victim in Hannibal Rising, and the Wicked Witch of the West starred in the most popular Broadway musical of all time… where it turns out she was the hero in a conspiracy with the Scarecrow to pull one over on Dorothy.

To be clear, some of these spinoffs and reimaginings work quite well. Even if I personally am a bit chagrined at Todd Phillips’ Joker being nominated for Best Picture, Joaquin Phoenix’s sad sack killer clown created the space for a riveting performance that reminded mainstream audiences that movies can still be for adults. In another comic book movie, Magneto’s heartbreaking backstory in the Holocaust was expanded in 2011’s X-Men: First Class, which made an already relatively complex supervillain just that much more compelling in Michael Fassbender’s hands.

Overall, however, this approach has left something to be desired. And to get back to Cruella, her remix as a misunderstood tragic heroine appears to owe most of all to Maleficent. In 2014, Disney made a killing when they cast movie star Angelina Jolie as their very best big bad, a character so evil in 1959’s Sleeping Beauty that she was willing to knockoff a princess simply because no one sent her a party invite. That’s cold. And it’s wickedly entertaining. Hence why Maleficent scared and captivated generations of children.

Some characters are just too good at being bad.

The marketing of Maleficent leaned into this with a melancholic cover of Sleeping Beauty’s Tchaikovsky-inspired theme song, “Once Upon a Dream.” Now in a minor key, the new version sung by Lana Del Rey promised a scarier, more menacing version of the story, which was then confirmed by Jolie’s wonderfully devilish laugh. The big bad was finally going to have her day at the ball.

But when the movie actually came out, we learned that Maleficent was an enchanted fairy who’d been wronged. In the end, she didn’t hate Elle Fanning’s Princess Aurora. In fact, she loved the little royal and tried to save her from the curse she herself cast in a fit of justified anger. Ultimately, the sorceress adopts Aurora as the daughter she never had after disposing of her now abusive father. That’s certainly an interpretation. I guess.

It also proved massively successful in the short term, opening at a staggering $175.5 million in its opening weekend worldwide, and grossing $758 million total. Those numbers also exclude merchandising and home video revenues. If you want to know why we’re getting the punk rock Cruella, look no further.

However, did a lot of folks really like Maleficent? It made all the money in the world based on that devious marketing campaign that promised a shocking tell-all about Disney’s closest approximation to Lucifer, but by the time a sequel limped into theater five years later, relatively few seemed to still care about the misunderstood, freedom fighting warrior fairy Jolie played. Maleficent: Mistress of Evil ostensibly continued the good fight but flopped at the box office with a cume of $491.7 million, barely more than half of what its predecessor made. (Don’t cry for Disney though, as Avengers: Endgame, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, and remakes of Aladdin and The Lion King in the same year made Maleficent 2 look like a clerical error.)

What this whole sputtering franchise reminds us though is that some characters are better left bad, and the mystique of the unknown is an end unto itself. While I enjoyed Phoenix’s take on the Joker, there is little argument the character was even scarier with a PG-13 rating when he manifested out of thin air, like Beelzebub, in The Dark Knight. Or to take a step away from just villains, was Han Solo really any cooler when you learned how he got his name in Solo: A Star Wars Story? Or could you have gone your whole life without knowing thanks to The Hobbit movies that Gandalf and Galadriel were kind of, sort of, just maybe friends with benefits?

The allure of Cruella De Vil is right there in her name: She’s a cruel devil. How could she not be when her entire ambition in Disney’s classic 101 Dalmatians is to skin puppies for their fur coats? Finding out she used to fight the power before hoarding it may make a lot of money, but it doesn’t make her necessarily more compelling.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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smilingspinel · 5 years

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even mORE SOULMATE AUS for spinel x reader >:3 how about the soulmate au where theres a black spot where you first make physical contact with your soulmate and when they touch it, it becomes a patch of womderful colors~

SURPRISE!

I was so inspired by this particular imagines prompt that I ended up breaking my own mold and writing a 2.8k fic for it instead.

It was a lot of fun to write this out, so I hope that you enjoy it!

You were born with your spot on the back of your hand.

It didn’t come as a surprise to you, or your parents, or any of your friends, really. Everyone had them somewhere, and the back of a hand was considered one of the most common parts of the body to have them appear.

It’s your soulmark, and its location determines the first spot your soulmate will ever come in contact with. When you were a young kid in elementary school, all you could think about was who it could be. You would chase the kids around at recess, waving it in their face, taunting them to touch it. It was a game, and only the bravest of the few would actually comply, but nothing would ever happen. You all would break into giggles, knowing very well the result would never change, and joked it would not work by coincidence, that nothing happened because the wrong person touched it, or that they did not touch in the exact center of the black spot.

That’s all it was to you, as a kid. It was a game, because the idea of a soulmate sounded more like a fantasy from the fairy tales the teachers would read at story time. But as time passed and your friends and classmates got older, you felt like you were the only one who still wanted to play the game, who saw the spot as just the source of a fantasy game you play at recess. Some of your classmates were finding their soulmates as early as the sixth or seventh grade. You wouldn’t have believed it had you not seen a few of them go down yourself. You suppose it isn’t that odd, since you always hear stories at weddings about how the couple met when they were small children.

Which…wouldn’t bother you, except middle school came and went, and so did high school, and while everyone around you was walking around with colorful displays of love splashed all over their bodies, you still had your black little spot on the back of your hand. It’s not like you’d given up on dating, it’s just that you’d begun to shy away from letting your partners see the spot on your hand, because you were always so afraid of heartbreak, that you would believe you’d found the one only to find out you were meant to break up, that you never thought it was worth the trouble.

“It’s just…” you sigh, bringing your wrist to your forehead as you lie down against the grassy hill against the crystal temple. “It doesn’t feel right, you know? Waiting your whole life for one person to come find you? When you’re not even sure that they’re coming at all?”

Beside you in the grass, Steven laughs. ”Y’know, [y/n], you really remind me of someone else I know. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were meant for each other”

You raise an eyebrow at him in question, which makes him laugh.

“No no, I’m serious! I think you’d really like her”

You blink. “You do?”

“Yeah! I think you two would really hit it off, if you know what I mean”, he says, and nudges your shoulder. You can feel a blush forming on your face, and Steven must be able to see it forming on your face, because before you can make any form of a protest he’s already standing to his feet.

“Wait right here,” he says, like you have any other option but to comply, and between one blink and the next he’s already sprinting off. You watch him go until he’s just out of your sight, and once he’s gone you roll over onto your stomach to observe some of the flowers in front of you.

Should you pick some of the flowers for her? Does she even like flowers? Will she know that you just picked them at the last minute, instead of carefully thinking out an arrangement at a local florist? Steven’s friends with a lot of gems, what if she has future vision like Sapphire does? What if she already knows what you look like, before you even get a glance at her?

“Ugh,” you complain to yourself, and scrub your hands down your face. All of this worrying is getting you nowhere. Steven’s been your best friend since early childhood. If anyone’s going to have any idea of who would be perfect for you, it’s going to be Steven.

It’s a calming thought, but the idea that Steven very well may be bringing you your soulmate causes your heart to start slamming into your chest.

“[Y/n]?”

The sudden call of your name nearly makes you jump out of your skin, and when you peak through your hands at whoever called your name you see Steven holding hands with…someone you can’t make out in the bright sunlight.

You quickly jump up to your feet, brushing yourself and your hair off, pretending she didn’t just see you pathetically moping around in the grass.

“[y/n], this is Spinel!” Steven beams, nudging a gem looking equally as nervous as you closer to you so you can get a better look at her. She shyly rubs at the back of her neck with a gloved hand.

She’s….she’s beautiful. She’s so much prettier than you could’ve ever imagined. She’s bright, she’s bold, she-

You start giggling uncontrollably, and Spinel frowns, turning to Steven.

“H-hey, what’s the big idea here? You said they’d like me!”

“Oh, no no!” You frantically wave your hands around, a blush burning into your cheeks. “It’s not that! It’s just…” You giggle. “You just look like you’re in a punk rock band or something”

Spinel blushes, taken a bit aback, and beside her, Steven’s eyes turn into stars. “Awwww!” he coos, nudging Spinel just a bit closer to you. “That’s like, the biggest compliment you could give someone! Punk rock is the coolest!”

That makes your blush worsen, which makes Spinel snort in laughter (oh no, that’s adorable). She outstretches a hand to you, literally.

“Spinel! Though I’m sure you already figured that out, since Universe just told you”

You shy away from her outstretched hand, holding your own to your chest, but you flash a smile regardless. “I’m [y/n]”

She retracts her hand and laughs again. “Aww, whatsa’ matter? Afraid of a little punk rock?” she teases, and you laugh, but keep your hand where it is regardless.

Steven giggles. “Didn’t I tell you? Their spot hasn’t changed yet. They’re still on the lookout for their soulmate”

The playful smile suddenly fades from Spinel’s face, and it’s replaced with a dark magenta blush. “Really?” she says, in a hushed sort of whisper. “Lemme see” she takes another cautious step towards you, and you take a cautious step backwards.

“Nah, I won’t touch it,” she promises. “I just wanna see it”

She’s got an indescribable look in her eyes, but something about it tells you she’s telling the truth, so you cautiously show her the unimpressive little black spot on your hand.

She sure seems to think otherwise. “Wow,” she gasps, walking in a circle around you to get a good view of it at every angle. “I’ve neva seen one of these when they weren’t already full a’ color. Steven told me he’s had his filled since he met that girl Connie, and Garnet’s had hers since she first fused. I didn’t even know gems could have one, let alone a fusion” she shrugs, and stretched her neck around to look at herself. “I can’t find mine, that’s for sure”

Okay, that’s pretty reassuring to say the least. You snort in laughter, which makes her retract her neck back to its original place, and she grins widely.

Steven beams equally wide at the display.

“Aww, see? You’re perfect for each other!”

You and Spinel seem to blush at the exact same time, which only seems to prove Steven’s point even further. He laughs, and clasps his hands together. “Looks like my work here is done, let me know when you need a minister for your fusion ceremony!” he calls out, and runs off like he’s expecting you to chase after him for making such a comment. And you would, hadn’t it been for the worsening blush on your face.

“Fusion ceremony?” Spinel asks, tilting her head to one side in confusion.

“Marriage” you mumble, just under your breath.

“Oh,” she replies, equally flustered, which gives you the idea that Garnet must’ve filled Spinel in on the idea at some point or another. For a brief, seemingly never ending moment, you two stand in silence beside each other, the only thing capable of breaking the tension in the air between you two being the occasional breeze.

“Well…” you say, kicking at the grass and stifling a giggle. “Do you…wanna try the whole dating thing? To see how that goes?”

Spinel snorts in laughter, but vigorously agrees once you clarify that it’s a genuine offer.

It’s honestly the best decision you’ve ever made in your entire life. Although you’re both very shy about getting touchy with each other, you actually hit it off very well. One experimental date becomes two, than three, than four, than five, until you two eventually come to the very obvious conclusion that there’s nothing experimental about it anymore. You go on walks, to new movie releases, on mini road trips together, and with every date you go on you find yourself falling more and more in love with her, and you’re positive the way she looks at you she’s feeling the exact same way.

Your first kiss comes naturally. You’re sitting beside each other at sunset, hands mere inches away from touching, when you both lean over simultaneously and just go for it. It makes you both collapse onto the sand with laughter, your arms covering your eyes. Once you recover, you both sit up in the sand and give it another go.

After that, it becomes sort of a game between you two to try to sneak a kiss to the other without physically touching otherwise. You’d wind your hands around your back, you’d stand on your tiptoes, and on one or two occasions you’d recreate that kiss from Spider-Hero just to avoid touching each other.

And it’s not long before you find that you’re happier with Spinel than you’ve been with any other partner you’ve had in the past. All of this worrying about waiting to be found slowly fades around you. You no longer care who the universe may claim to be is your “assigned” soulmate, because as far as you’re concerned, you’ve already found yours in Spinel.

You’re pretty confident she feels the same way, so you psyche yourself up in the mirror to tell her you don’t care; you don’t care what the universe thinks, because you know she’s your soulmate. If you need to cover up your little black spot with layer after layer of concealer to hide it, to defy the universe’s choosing, you’d do it every day for the rest of your life.

You’re going to tell her.

You’re going to tell her, you repeat to yourself, stepping out of the bathroom in Steven’s home, where you’d been practicing. It was, in fact, the easiest place to meet Spinel, since the homeworld warp was right there beside his bedroom. And even then, she practically calls this place her second home, since she visits from homeworld so often so she can see you.

You’re going to-

You suddenly stop dead in your tracks at the sound of Spinel…crying?

“Spinel?” You frown, looking around for any sight of your girlfriend. “Spinel? Where are you?”

She doesn’t respond, just starts crying harder at the sound of your voice, which gives away her location as upstairs in Steven’s room. You book it up there between one blink and the next, and you find her curled up on Steven’s bed, hiding under his mass of blankets.

“Spinel?” you ask again, sitting beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Go away” she hisses, though she doesn’t sound like she actually wants you to leave. You shake your head. “Spinel, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong”.

She visibly tenses up under the blankets, and stretches to push herself even further under the blankets. “I said go away”.

You sigh, and shift your position on your bed. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen her break down like this. She’s broken down to you dozens of times before, about Pink Diamond, about her fear of abandonment, and of her commitment issues, and you know her well enough to know that she very rarely ever means it when she says she wants to be alone. But if she really means it this time, you suppose you can talk to her another time and let her work through whatever’s bothering her on her own.

You stand up from the bed. “Okay,” you cave. “But come and find me if you want to talk it out, okay? I’ll wait downstairs until you’re ready to talk”

There’s a pause, and you’re sure she isn’t going to say anything, but just as the first step creaks from you stepping on it, she tosses the mass of blankets aside.

“Wait,” she calls after you, and her voice is scratchy and broken from crying. “You’re right. I do want to talk to you”.

That’s more like it. You turn on your heel, and make your way back over to Steven’s bed, sitting right beside her. “Yeah?” you ask, as gently as you can. “What do you want to talk about?”

She wipes her tears away from her eyes with her wrist. “I…” she starts, twiddling her hands together. “I know how you’re always tellin’ me that you love me, and you wanna be with me no matter what, and all that stuff about how I didn’t deserve what Pink did to me, yadda yadda,” she sniffles, “but I overheard ya talkin’ to yerself in the bathroom. I heard ya sayin’ all this stuff about your soulmark, and how you don’t care this, and ya don’t care that, and…” she temporarily cuts herself off to curl her arms around herself. “I just kept thinkin’….if…if we really ain’t soulmates, if we really ain’t meant to be, then you’d run off, that you’d leave me for wastin’ all your time, that you’d forget all about me, and-” she chokes back a sob, and no matter how much she tries to continue she just can’t seem to compose yourself.

Your heart breaks for her. “Oh, Spinel…” you whisper to her gently, and you reach forward to cup her face gently in your hands, gently wiping her tears away. She jumps in shock from the gesture, but leans into your hand, gently bringing a hand of her own to place a hand of her own on top of yours. “Listen to me, okay? All of that stuff I was saying to myself in the bathroom was that I don’t care what the universe thinks of me anymore. I don’t care about who my soulmate was supposed to be, because I’ve found her in you. All of that was because I’m willing to defy the universe for you, Spinel” you tell her, and you gently rub little circles into her tear streaks with your thumb. She opens her eyes to gaze into yours, but before you can say or do anything else, there’s a brief flash of light as the black tear streaks on Spinel’s face suddenly bloom with color.

You must be staring at her in shock, because she’s laughing again. “What?” she teases. “I got somethin’ on my face?”

“Spinel…” you whisper, only managing her name, and suddenly you’re the one tearing up and just as it had when you first met those fateful few weeks ago, the smile in her face is suddenly fading away, replaced by a dark magenta blush.

“[Y/n]?” She asks you, equally as soft. She pulls her hand away from yours and gently pats at her face where her hollow tear streaks had just been moments ago. Tears start welling up in her eyes again, and this time she takes your hand from her cheek, and lo and behold, where there was once an empty black spot was now a spot bursting with every color of the rainbow.

“I knew it had to be you” you murmur, your voice breaking with emotion, and she chokes out a laugh as she launches herself at you, wrapping her arms around you and planting passionate little kisses all over your face.

“I love you too,” she murmurs, between one little set of kisses and the next.

#spinel #spinel x reader #spinelxreader #su x reader #my writing #fic #:)

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unanuvola · 4 years

Note

alright so i read your lipstick fic with sonny and it was absolutely b e a u t i f u l! i was just wondering if you could write something similar but with that the reader ASKED him to put on the lipstick and how he might react? totally fine if you don’t want to! no pressure!

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for reading I see your true colors (and that's why I love you) and for writing this message. I'm glad you like it and I really hope that you'll like this new story too. I'm really sorry for taking so long to write it, but (finally) here it comes!

(gif: @rynewind)

When Sonny came out from his home studio, he found you spread on the sofa with your face hypnotized on your phone. He rolled his eyes and continued on to the kitchen, stretching his limbs and back. Now that he was an ADA and his poor ass was stuck to a chair most of the day, he realized that he desperately needed to do something for his body and maybe, if he was lucky, you could join him.

He drank some water, then he sat down thinking about all the possible sports you could accept to do and, speaking frankly, they could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Sonny still remembered when you two started dating and one day you said triumphantly that you paid an annual membership for a gym next home, but then you spent the entire year in his bed because 'you're ten thousand better than that boring cardio class'. The mere memory made his legs shaking. So, gym was cancelled.

Maybe some dance lessons could be the right answer, however a flashback hit Sonny hard like a slap on his face. Rafael invited the squad in a cosy Cuban restaurant for his birthday, obviously Sonny asked to him if could invite you because he desperately wanted to show his friends the wonderful girl he had started dating. The conditions were good for a perfect night and perhaps he could find the courage to bring you to his home for the first time, but then the cosy restaurant turned out to be a place where after midnight the owners moved the tables away and people could actually dance salsa with a band playing live in the background. After a few tries and your don't worries every time he stepped on your toes, he spent the rest of the night watching you dancing with Rafael. Obviously you didn't went to his place and Sonny had to settle for jerking off at the thought of a threesome with you and Barba. Sonny shook his head like to erase that disastrous night from his memory. Dance lessons were cancelled, too.

Then, like a miracle, he remembered that time where you asked him, smirking, "What do you think if I start yoga? Maybe if I become a little more flexible it'll be more fun doing you know what…". This idea was quickly abandoned just like Sonny's fantasies of your legs spread open while he was pounding you deep.

"Doll?"

"Mmh?"

"What do you think of signing up for a partner yoga class?" he asked, joining you in the living room.

You hummed vaguely, your eyes fixed on the phone and fingers fast scrolling on the screen. Sonny looked at you with a mix of resignation and amusement. No matter how long he has known you, he'll always be genuinely amazed at your hyperfixation on the most varied things.

When you two first met, you were obsessed with Rule & Method: special case unit, in which a young and inexperienced detective, between one case and another, fell in love with a sarcastic and grumpy Puerto Rican ada. At the first you were reluctant to open up with Sonny, but a night he invented you home, asking you if you wanted to catch up the new episode of Rule & Method and you didn't make him say it twice. As soon as the episode ended, you began to throw up all your excitement on him and he was so glad that you felt comfortable to share that part of you with him. Sonny still remembered the moment he confided you that he was @thisdetectivelovesthepuertoricanada on ao3, the surprise on your face, your sparkle eyes and your bright red cheeks. You were so beautiful and Sonny was getting so hard by all your praises on his fanfictions that he pulled you toward himself and started to kissed you passionately.

After that you passed from watching all the musicals starring Raúl Esparza to reading the erotic saga of Tiffany Reisz in just four days and now you're obsessed by two Italians guys, a singer and his guitarist, who kissed at the Sanremo song festival. Obviously Sonny knew all these informations because you told them as soon as you saw a gifset on that hellsite called Tumblr. From that moment you started to listen to their song at least ten thousand times a day and to complain because you couldn't read fanfictions about them because you didn't speak a single word of Italian.

Sonny sat on the sofa and put your head on his legs, starting to stroke your hair. You finally laid down your phone and your eyes met with his, a smile spread on your faces.

"I still don't get what you find attractive about these two…"

"I thought your standard in men was higher, babe. Two charming men fighting patriarchy in fancy clothes and a glam makeup, kissing in a worldwide broadcast. Yeah, what's attractive about this? Maybe you have to start following them on Instagram," you answered, with closed eyes, enjoying his fingers caressing your scalp, "Did you watch the video where the singer put a red lipstick on guitarist lips? Hot."

"I didn't know you had a thing for men wearing makeup. If I've known, I would have told you about my punk rock band in high school. Leather jacket, a lot of black pencil under my eyes and yes, even lipstick. I think my mom has some pictures somewhere, next Sunday I'll show you!"

At those words, you sat up and looked to Sonny, who didn't know what was going on, but he knew for sure that you were ready to ask him something. He could tell by the way your eyes was shining and by that cute and lovely pout on your lips. Oh, how he would like to kiss away that pout and make you feel with his hands how much he loved you.

"I have a tons of questions that I want to ask you about that period of your surprising life, but right now most important one is," you cleaned your throat, "you have no problem with wearing makeup on you beautiful face, right?" you asked, your hand on his cheeks while you were gently stroking his lips with your thumb.

Sonny's heart was about to explode. You couldn't understand how much he loved feeling your fingers on his skin, just a little touch like that could take him off to the seventh heaven. "Of course not!" he said, trying to hide his state of bliss.

As soon as he pronounced those few words, you popped right up on your feet and run to the bedroom, leaving your boyfriend clueless about what you'll want to do. The wait was short because after just a few minutes later you run back, also risking to slip on the floor. Sonny was ready to catch you and tell you for the nth time that running through the apartment with just your socks wasn't a good idea, but then he heard your laugh as you sat on his lap and things went back to normal.

"So doll, what are you up to?"

"This!" you exclaimed, waving in front of him a lipstick. With a loud pop, you remove the cap, "A rich dark burgundy lipstick perfect for your pale skin and beautiful blue eyes."

Sonny couldn't react to these compliments because you were already astride on him, trapping his legs between your thighs. First you passed the sleeve of your hoodie on his lips for drying them, then you began to apply it.

So cute, Sonny thought looking at you. A small frown among your eyebrows, eyes fixed on his mouth while gently beating your lips. He could spend hours looking at you concentrated on the things you loved just like when you go down on him and you're too focused on his pleasure that you even forget about your own satisfaction. Suddenly Sonny felt his pants tightened.

"Et voilà!"

"How am I looking?"

"Handsome, as usual."

"Thanks," and he launched himself, open mouthed, toward you.

"Easy babe! You don't want to ruin your makeup, right?" you asked. Sonny was about to answer, but you were already on your feet, in front of him, "Ah, about the yoga partner thing… Yes, I can give it a chance. In fact, it just so happens that I know some positions that I can't wait to teach you."

"The sun salutation?"

"No, I was talking about the doggy one and maybe you can also smear that lipstick on me."

Sonny was really satisfied with that answer. In no time, he scooped you and put you on his shoulder, your ass up in the air. A loud spank made you yelped in surprise.

"I think that tonight we'll have the time to do a little bit more than just that. Prepare yourself for revisiting the entire kamasutra." and with that Sonny closed the door of your bedroom.

Thanks for reading ♡

N/A:

the two Italians guy are Achille Lauro and Boss Doms and the gifs are here and here

Read Tiffany Reisz's books!

English isn't my first language, please forgive any mistakes.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #my writing

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slutinacan · 4 years

Text

Black Sheep

envy adams x fem!reader

Warnings: kinda suggestive, not too heavy. (Sorry) ((kinda out of character for my kind of blog (((uwu horny sideblog))) but i just felt like writing this idk)). Swearing. A droplet of angst in the beginning but iT DOESN'T LAST TOO LONG I PROMISE.

Prompt: You've seemed to make it away from the heaviness of the group's troubles with Ramona's evil exes, and in an angered fit after getting in a brief argument with Scott due to his sheer recklessness, allowing not only himself to be put in danger, but everyone around him, you clasp Wallace's hand and race downtown to a local venue in high annoyance, only wanting to get away and enjoy the night away from all of this havoc in a flood of rock bands. Of course, everything starts out fine, as it always does, but as soon as an unexpected guest performer arrives onstage, you begin to receive more attention than expected.

Note: I'm aware that there is a shit ton of magical realism in this entire franchise, especially in the movie seeing as it was derived from a very vibrant comic series, so I'll try to incorporate as much of that in it as I can, promise. I'm not very good with magical realism/fantasy yet but I'll give it my all! Enjoy!

---

"You know what, Pilgrim? Fuck you." You let out an angry breath after his previous remark, tears flooding into your eyes.

You stood with nothing but sad anger running through your system, watching his face slowly cloud down into regret at his words, the room physically deflated at the broken atmosphere.

"I get that you want to be happy, and I am in full support of that, I just want you to be happy, Scott. But, when it comes at the cost of the people who want nothing but the best for you? Your friends? The people who have had it up to here with your shit but have always loved you too much to ever mind it because that's what pals are fucking for? You're too reckless. You always have been. Keep your head screwed on right for once and fucking look at what is in front of you, Pilgrim. Wake up." You ranted with a huff, fist clenched tight.

Scott made a move to step forward and take your hand, his own eyes teary, but you pulled back. Making a move for the door you grabbed your keys, and coat, without even taking the time to listen to his pleas. Your insides were boiling hot with rage but the exterior of your body stung cold with bitten ice that practically chilled the room below average temperature.

"Wallace. You want a ride or not, nerd." You asked, stepping outside and already finding yourself halfway to your car already as the wind kicking beneath your feet only accentuated your angry swiftness through the bitten evening.

With that, Wallace sprung up from his seat, grabbing his jacket, house key, and scarf. Ramona let out a quiet scoff of disbelief towards the brown haired boy, seeing as he was actually following you. Though, he gave nothing but a shrug to the group with a small, apologetic, look in return; then, he was out the door after sending one knowing look to Scott that said it all: When we get back, you're fixing this. All you, guy.

---

"Tickets please." The front attendee asked, his voice bellowing in your ears, breaking through the burning ice and sadness clouding your senses, chipping away at the practically frozen armor you guarded yourself with. Falling back into reality, you maintained your focus.

"Oh yeah, sorry, here you go." You refocused on his outstretched hand, placing both your ticket, and Wallace's into the presented palm. He tore off the stubs, grabbing two identification wristbands, and handed you both which you took with a small thank you.

Wallace took notice of your form, chilled and quiet. Soft and small and entirely too timid to be considered normal. You looked present but as if your brain was drifting far, far, away from the current scene. He nudged you with his elbow, sending a reassuring smile as you were cleared to enter the venue, being the lucky few to get there first at that. That alone chipped away at the frosted armor encasing your haunted form once again.

"Look, hun," he leaned against you reassuringly as you two snagged a spot near the front, his hands deep in his own pockets seeing how unusually cold the night was. His muscles tightened up to constrict any warmth in his body and keep it there, now feeling the bitter, unwavering, depressive, frost radiating from you.

"I think you were totally right back there. He's been really reckless as of lately, more so than usual, and yes, it has put a damper on things and, yeah, it has put his loved ones in danger. Also, yeah, its not really an ideal situation at all, completely unruly in fact. It is completely messy and depressing and unfair and it has put everyone he knows, we know, in harms way-" "Wallace is this supposed to be helping me? Because, I love and appreciate you and all, but you are absolutely shit at pep-talks-"

The two of you paused seeing the room already crowded with punk teens, adults, and misfits of the kind all murmuring and diving into their own conversations as the lights dimmed, one spotlight on the host of the venue who stood in the middle of the stage. He was all that could be seen, the light focused on his warm yellow jacket and his matching scarf. He was usually very peppy but seemed just as cold as everyone else on this frosted evening, legs visibly trembling as the ice chilled his scrawny form.

"Welcome everyone! Thanks for coming out tonight, we're real excited to show you what treats we have in store tonight because boy do we have a surprise." He grinned through his chattering teeth, tossing a thumbs up.

You watched intently, not as phased as all the screaming teens beside you had been. You toned him out. In fact, you toned everyone out. The host, Wallace, the screaming crowd of one hundred around you, all became muted. Your eyes honed in on the silhouettes that could not be identified in the shadows behind the current announcer. It seemed as though your concern for everything began to wear thinner and thinner as the cold night caressed your face to numbness, the fortress of ice around your body stilling the need to express, slowing you down and leaving you haunted.

You felt as though you could only bring your eyes to move, watching as the once obnoxious host started backing up off stage into the sidelines. You followed his mouth, watching every shaky trace of a pronunciation through chattering teeth mouthed something that visibly brightened the room and completely tore through your brain as the crowd began an uproar of excitement.

"Please welcome, The Clash at Demonhead!" His lips touched together slowly to form the words and you watched every second of it until he ran offstage, your eyes darting to the main portion of the venue to see the lights flicker on into a warm orange and red hue. Wallace, the crowd beside you, was long forgotten and you stood still among the chaos, relapsing the events that occured throughout the day. You shut your eyes to block it out, and reopened them to meet burning hazel. Your bitter, iced, armor suffered a severe blow at that, those hot eyes tearing right into your chest.

(Oh yeah)

Hello again

Friend of a friend

I knew you when

Your eyes were focused on one thing, the blonde who stood tall and confident in the middle of the stage, bright, pouty, red lips clouding your vision as she sung the opening words strictly, her own eyes on you.

Time moved faster and faster yet it felt like she was all you could see. A flame huddled in the cold dark, chipping further and further at you. You stood still, enjoying the music at that, but only standing to watch her while the excited chaos ensued around you as the music picked up.

She only broke your gaze to dance around the stage, completely strong in her movements and unwavering under the still present ice within the evening. She remained untouched.

During a small instrumental breakdown she strutted closer to the edge of the stage, right where you stood. You watched her, all of her. Her mouth and the way it moved as she sung intimately into the microphone, the way her warmth enveloped you and brushed across your paled face, completely melting any icy exterior you had left, any fight you had left.

Send you my love on a wire

Lift you up, every time,

everyone, ooh,

pulls away, ooh

From you

She was face to face with you now, on her knees in front of you like a panther while her aura burned into you unforgivingly. You gave in, sending a small smile and nodding your head along with the music which contrasted your haunted, frozen, stilled persona from before. You let go, and gave into the warmth. You were sure that there were tons of fans seething in jealousy and in simultaneous excitement seeing her so close to you, and of course they were probably screaming and jumping into chaos, but she was all you could see. With the next few lyrics, you mouthed the words along with her.

Send you my love on a wire

Lift you up, every time, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh

It's a mechanical bull, the number one

You'll take a ride from anyone

Everyone wants a ride, pulls away, ooh, from you

She smirked widely once the song slowed, then leaned forward and just managed to catch your mouth in a heated kiss as the lights faded into darkness. You melted completely, kissing back with fever at how overwhelmingly, comfortably, numbing the warmth was. She grabbed your collar, pulling you close so her mouth was at your ear.

"Meet me behind the venue in 20"

#envy adams #scott pilgrim #scott pilgram vs the world #lets go lesbians #gay #brie larson #brie larson imagine #brie #larson #love #lesbian #romance #ramona flowers

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