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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear 📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go.

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris�� face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

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gluteus-canis-familiaris · 2 years

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art post . 07

IT’S THE HBOWAR ART POST : RAGGEDY ASS MARINES EDITION BAYBEH

was too lazy to put my sig on the scans but...... it's the HBOwar fandom...... there are only 10 of us active at a time anyway adfjfjhshagahahaha jk jk

no, no, no, this is not the product of my anxiety when I thought school was starting, only for classes to get postponed for a whole 2 weeks because of a bad wave of omicron, thereby extending the period of anxiety, and then me actually catching it, and subsequently going more nuts than usual while in self-isolation…. nooo…… why would you think that

my notes for this are a real mess, no joke, pls continue reading at your own risk looool

Around this time last year, I started a new sketchbook!!! It felt really nice because it takes so long for me to finish one :( My first sketch in the new one happened to be of Frank Castle and Billy Russo (the Punisher and Jigsaw). I wasn’t that happy with it, had no intention of posting it, and it’s not even HBOWar (??? she doesn’t even go here HAHAHA), but it ended up in this post anyway because I feel like I’ve come full circle by starting 2022 with more USMC goodness! (I mean it’s Jon Bernthal and Recon Marines sooooo not that far of a leap??? also this will be the closest I’ll ever get to making GK/The Punisher crossover content for myself akhkdhkjfha)

The ooooonly reason any of the other sketches came to be is because I sat down for 3 nights in a row, AB SO LUTE LY DETERMINED to draw BradNate before I was thrown back into the torture of a new semester, and I would put a colored pencil down on the page– and my hand would go NOPENOPENOPEABORTABORTABORT

.... so here we are with a whole page of Doc Badass Bandana Bryan and another whole fuqin page of AndyEddie instead akdjfhf

If I’m being honest though, I’m most happy with the AndyEddie ones 💖💖💖 the bottom left is from the scene in Episode 6 where Ack Ack comes back and tells Hillbilly ‘don’t blame yourself, you did the right thing’ (which is like….bAbE NOOOooOOOooooo) but I mistakenly put them both in ponchos!! Only Hillbilly was smol under a poncho in the actual scene!!! Very minor, but I feel the need to say it!!!!

If you’re thinking the paper of the Doc Bryan page looks like someone took an angry damp q-tip to their watercolor pencils thinking it was cool, then you’d be damn right.

And THEN as if my dumbass didn’t think that spending 3 days waffling about before even attempting BradNate was already a red flag, my brain said bUt i nEeD tO seE tHeM iN tHeIr dReSs bLuEs !!! and the rest of me thought, LeT’s dO iT !!!! UGGGGGHHHHHNNNNGGGHHHH SO THAT WAS THAT

Ended up spending a lot of my sick days just looking up the particulars of the Marines dress uniform, which was really fun!! And then I laid down my sketch and made the mistake of deciding on serious coloring instead of my lazy 1-3 tone shading because i wAntEd tHe rEd pIpiNG tO rEalLy sTaNd oUT which was….. a lot less fun…. If it wasn’t already obvious, I nearly abandoned this one several times, I was sooooo damn lazy to color everything in, only to return to it 'cause I was crawling up the walls from isolation lol

Disclaimer that in spite of the joy of reading up on the uniform standards, I really couldn’t 👏 be 👏 arsed 👏 to make the ribbons and medals accurate, I sincerely apologize 🥲Nate magically has a Purple Heart now pffffft

In the end…. it doesn’t really look like either Brad or Nate to me 😂😂😂 but I’m very happy to have attempted it at least! and getting over the fear of the first try makes subsequent doodles a lot easier and less stressful, so here’s to future Fancy BradNate yaaaaay

I had a looot of years in between my first watch of BoB and my first watches of The Pacific and GK, which came closely after each other, and weirdly enough I never got around to doing fanart in all that time no matter how much I wanted to :(((( So this feels like such a great personal turning point in my HBOwar fanhood!!! (ok there is exactly 1 unfinished Winnix sketch that is so unfinished they don’t even got gaddamn eyes and eyebrows and it won’t see the light of day nope nope)

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kbuggg3 · 3 years

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JC Caylen Imagine: “Don’t Be Sorry”

Today's has been a pretty eventful day to say the least. While my boyfriend JC was out with some old friends who came into town to visit him, me and my dad got into a fight... again.

But the thing that hurts the most is not only is this the 4th time in a row he's been caught, but I'm the one that keeps witnessed it. Your probably wonder "the 4th time? Why do you keep falling for his bullshit?"

Welp. He's my dad. I'm not just gonna give up on him completely. When we would catch him doing something he would let fake tears fall from his eyes as he was apologizing to us and we would forgive him.

And then we'd catch him again, he'd apologize, we'd forgive him. It was an endless cycle. But this time I knew I can't get my hopes up to high anymore.

My mom always told me it takes years to build trust and seconds to destroy it. I felt that. He didn't only ruin my trust with him, but my trust with everyone else. I let everything that happened get to my head and now I have major trust issues. With the exception of one person.

JC Caylen

Before i met JC my life was pretty miserable. I lived in Florida with my mom and my older sister. After my mom and dad got divorced, my family slowly started going down hill.

My dad was barely in the picture due to his constant sneaking around as he was hooking up with random people and getting drunk and being so lazy that he never even bothered covering his tracks, allowing us to discover his dirty little secrets for ourselves.

My poor brother was clueless. Had no idea what his own father was doing behind his back and we didn't bother telling him because 1.) he was a very sensitive boy at the time and 2.) he looked to my dad for everything. My dad was his role model.

After awhile of all of this, my sister was diagnosed with depression. Not too severe but even the smallest bit can make you feel like shit. And as for me, I struggled with self love. Because I didn't really have a good male figure on my life I looked to guys for verification.

But after i spent a week with him and the rest of the O2l house at Vidcon i felt like my life was finally picking up. Fast forward a couple years and my sisters depression is gone, my brother grew up to be an amazing dad of 2 kids, and as for me, i stopped looking for verification in guys and me and JC started dating.

We've been dating for 2 years now and he has been nothing but amazing. I love him so much and I know he loves me. Ever since we've started dating people have been telling me they've never seen me so happy before or they've never seen me smile or laugh that much before.

I just wished he was here to comfort me right now. I haven't told him what happened yet. I didn't wanna ruin his day. He was hanging out with some old friends of his who flew down to visit him.

I wasn't gonna burden him with my stupid family issues while he was out with his friends. I turned on a random disney movie and began to watch as I continued to cry at random times when the old memories would pop up in my mind.

I would squeeze my eyes shut and burry my head in my pillow trying to make them stop but they never went away, no matter how hard i tried. Eventually I decided enough was enough. I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to call JC. I grabbed the phone and went to his name in my contacts. I dried my tears and took a few deep breaths to stop myself from crying so he wouldn't notice and be too worried.

After attempting to recollect myself, i pressed call, holding the phone up to my ear as i heard it ring. A few seconds later the line picked up and i heard his sweet voice on the other end.

"What's up baby." JC said in a super deep voice cause you to giggle only slightly.

"Hey JC. Um, I was just wondering when you were gonna be home?"

"Is my girl missing me already?"

"What do mean already you've been gone for hourrrrsssss." She groaned causing him to chuckle.

"I know baby I'm sorry. I'll actually be home soon."

I sighed with relief before responding, "Thank god!"

"Is everything ok (y/n)?"

Shit. Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry.

She sniffles a little and swallowed hard.

"Y-ya baby why do you ask?" My breath was uneven and he could tell.

"No no. Your not ok. I'm coming over right now."

Don't mess this up (y/n) he's having fun. Don't ruin his day.

"JC it's fine. I'm gonna be ok. Just go hang out with your friends. Have fun!"

"Gonna be?!"

I pulled back and cringed at my own words. Shouldn't have said that.

"Gonna be ok??? (y/n) what happened???" JC exclaimed again. She sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"JC I'm-"

Tell him your fine. He's with his friends. He doesn't need this right now.

Tell him what you tell everyone else in your life. Your fine.

"It's my dad again." I said with tears in my eyes.

What the fuck (y/n)! How could you?!

He can tell by my voice I was crying.

"Fuck. Baby I'm coming over right now." He side sternly. Was he mad?

"N-no JC it's ok really I-"

"No! (y/n) it's not ok! Baby he's put you through so much shit and I'm tired of it! You don't deserve that! You nor your family!" He began to shout a little and it caused her to cry harder. Not because I'm scared of him. But because he cared so much and that meant the world to her. He's the only one who gets it.

He did a deep sigh and you already knew he was running his hands through his hair and pacing, something he did when he was stressed, nervous, or in this case pissed off.

"I'm coming over. I'll be there in a few just hang on ok?"

At first no words were spoken. She didn't want to agree because she still felt bad about burdening him with it. But she was going to lose her fucking mind if he wasn't holding her ASAP so she finally spoke a barely audible "ok".

Immediately the phone call was ended. (y/n)'s phone slid out of her hand and onto the floor. She sat there curled up on her bed for awhile, staring blankly at the floor as her head was leaned on the head rest.

The thoughts and images filled her head again and she began to cry and cry and cry. "Go away." She whispered with quivering lips. "Go away!"

Not too long after the phone call she heard keys rattling as whoever was on the other side, who she assumed was JC, tried to open the door. She then heard footsteps quickly going up the stairs.

Her teary eyes slowly looked up to the door and saw the door knob slowly being turned, then the door opened revealing her boyfriend. In her mind she was smiling, finally being able to see him, but on the outside she unintentionally showed the opposite.

They made eye contact and (y/n) saw the sympathetic look on JC's face. She hated it when people would look at her like that and he knew it. He just couldn't help it. It makes her feel weak and helpless even tho those are the exact words that describe her in this moment.

When she saw the look on his face she quickly looked away, turning her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut as more tears slipped down her cheeks, slightly embarrassed by her fragile appearance.

She felt the bed beside her dip down meaning JC was now sitting next to her on the bed.

"Baby..."

JC gently touched her chin and moved it to where her eyes had nowhere else to look but his.

"I... I am so sorry."

After looking into his beautiful brown eyes, (y/n) finally gave in and buried her face in his shoulder as she sat in his lap in a straddle like position.

Her arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and the more she cried the tighter she would hold on. In return JC would squeeze her back, both arms wrapped around her waist. He then began to run his hand through her hair and draw small circles on her back in a soothing motion.

JC continued to whisper little nothings in her ear as she gripped his shirt that was soaked with her tears.

"You don't deserve this."

"None of this is your fault."

"You're an amazing girl."

"You're my amazing girl."

After a few minutes or so of them sitting in silence, JC asked her if she wanted to lay down and cuddle while they watched a movie. (y/n) could only nod her head as they repositioned themselves to where she was laying on JC's stomach with her face still buried in his chest. He put on her favorite Disney movie "Finding Nemo" hoping it would encourage her to lift her head and hopefully help calm her.

When she heard the music play softly from the TV she slowly and hesitantly lifted her head from JC's chest as she positioned her head to where she could see the movie displayed on the large screen. JC smiled at her and kissed the top of her head. Occasionally throughout the movie he would rub her back soothingly, play with her hair, and give her kisses on the top of her head or forehead, causing (y/n) to smile slightly.

"Thank you... Seriously," (y/n) said quietly. He was surprised at first, judging by the fact that neither of them have said a word to each other for about an hour (not in a rude way of course but because there was no need for words. They just needed time to think and relax). "No problem, baby. I love you so so much."

(y/n) look up at him, resting her chin on his chest. He noticed how the red puffiness in her eyes went down and there was not a tear in sight, causing his heart to warm and a smile to make its way across his face. "I love you too." They shared a short but sweet kiss and went to sleep cuddled up in their bed as "Finding Nemo" continued to play and lull them into a deep and peaceful sleep.

ngl I hate writing sad stuff (unless y’all request it obvi) but I got this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head so you’re welcome. If you have any requests and/or feedback let me know plz! Love y'all💋 ~Kbug :)

#jc #jc caylen #jc x reader #jc caylen x reader #knj #kian and jc

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crispycreep69 · 4 years

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Maybe a side story for the memory dream thing but BEN has to see the reader enduring some type of abuse, bullying, trauma ect While she's seeing his drowning experience? And maybe BEN never new about it so he's utterly shocked and she had gone through that because she's such a loving happy person? I'm sorry this is just me wanting to vent tbh.

This turned out being longer than I’d expected... also I didn’t know what kind of trauma so I picked something and ran with it. If you have a certain scenario then feel free to send it in and I’d be more than happy to write it. This is something I went though, but it wasn’t as dramatic as this- lol I just kinda wanted to traumatize reader.

warning: blood mentions, bad crash, I wash too lazy to proof-read so... there might be typos

Ben gazes lovingly into your eyes, squeezing your hands once. He nods to the nameless man behind you. You grasp his hands tighter in your own as you watch the needle inject into his neck and see his head roll back as his consciousness fades away. Snow whips around him as he enters the scene. He looks around, confused as to why your memory seems to be in the middle of a wintery forest. He walks along the given trail, large pines casting foreboding shadows, heavy piles of snow dropping from their limbs as he continues onward. Loud buzzing echoes in the distance like.. machines of some sort drawing near. Three of the snow-drivers pass by, a fourth making its way when suddenly a shout resonates. The noise bouncing from tree to tree, echoing around him as he watches the snowmobile descend downwards off the cliffside. The two people stuck on it seem to try their best to hold on for dear life, but one drops off, getting sucked under the machine with a sickening crunch and scream. Red stains the snow, but the descent continues.The second seems to be able to hold on for a little bit longer, rolling with the machinery, a muffled grunt echoing as the weight falls upon her. You gasp as you're stuck there in the snow, the weight of the machine crushing your smaller frame. The snowmobile finally seems to recognize that something was wrong, the red clip most likely haven been pulled when the driver fell off. The buzz is cut off as the motor dies down, leaving you whimpering underneath it. Ben acts before he can think shouting out.

"Don't move!" As he attempts to climb down to you. You look up to find from where the noise came from, hoping that someone from your party had noticed the fall and come to rescue you both. Your neck barks in protest at the small movement, a pang of fear shooting through you as you could only guess what that means. You struggle underneath the weight, hardly able to breathe.

"Help! Get this... off of me!" You shout, panting from the lack of good oxygen. Your mind suddenly remembers your friend. You're barely able to turn your head to see her body laid strewn across the bloody snow. You shout her name- telling her to move or groan or whimper. Anything to let you know she was still alive. Ben recognizes the friend. You'd brought her with you a few times to some events and parties. He'd had no idea that you two had gone through this together. Your heart drops as she gives no response. Adrenaline shooting through you as you finally manage to push the machine off of you and further down the hill. The snow slopes unevenly beneath your now freed form, you shoot a hand out to catch on a tree so you don't follow the gravity. A muted pain spreads through you at even that simple action, but you ignore it. You shiver from the energy rush, eyes wide as you climb up to where your friend is stuck. You roll her over, whispering her name gently, afraid of what you might find when you view her face.Her eyes give a flutter, barely there, but it's a sign of life. You breathe a sigh of relief, the previous adrenaline starting to leave you- allowing you to feel the extent of your injuries as you gasp again. Your hands fly to your stomach. Ben finally manages to make it to where the both of you lay, you holding your friend in your arms just to be sure that she remains breathing. Somewhere along the crash both of your helmets had been thrown off.

"Hey.. I told you not to move, we need to find help," Ben says as he finally reaches you both. You jump from the sudden, unfamiliar, voice. You'd been too focused on making sure that your friend was ok to even begin noticing the surrounding area.

"Who are you?" You question, immediately on the defence. Ben is taken back by your response, worry flashing through his eyes. He finally remembers that this isn't the you he knows.

"I'm just... a traveller. I saw your crash. Is everyone alright?" He responds. Your breathing is erratic as you try and focus on anything but the pain spreading through your limbs. You could only imagine what kind of injuries you had received. "No," you respond, warmth dripping onto your skin. The blood from your friend. “No one is ok, we need to," You gulp, heat blinding your vision as black spots dance around.

"We need help." You finally choke out .

"Hey.." He seems to notice your swaying as your head feels limp, your limbs going weak.

"Hey you need to stay awake. Open your eyes for me." You shake your head, trying to shake away the woozy feeling. Your party must have seemed to finally noticed the accident as you hear snowmobiles approach and shouts resonate into the ravine. Ben manages to catch your form as you finally give into the darkness. Ben awakes with a gasp, searching for you immediately. You place a hand on his face, rubbing your thumb on his cheekbone as he comes back to you. He grasps your other hand in his, squeezing tightly. You're the first to speak.

"I spent six months in a hospital." You say, he opens his mouth to speak but you continue. "I started to hate life. I started to hate the kind nurses who even dared walk into my room smiling. I started to hate the optimistic physical therapist who would shout encouragement. I started to hate the people who were living their lives while I was stuck in an endless hell." Your name leaves his lips, but you don't give him a chance. "When I was finally released... I didn't even want to leave my room. I didn't know how to come back from it. How to continue on like nothing had happened. Six months of my life wasted. I didn't want to deal with the pity and looks of concern as I limped past. It wasn't until one day I realized... I wasn't going to stop being miserable until I helped myself. My trauma doesn't define me. It happened- and now I needed to live with it." His eyes trail downwards to your right leg, sure he'd seen you start to limp a few times here and there after a long day of walking, but he'd never known why... or had he been too careless to ask. His hand leaves yours to rest on your thigh. "Eventually.. I healed. I came back and made my life what it was going to be. I wasn't gonna let this stop me. I stopped hating everything, I stopped being so angry. Sometimes the biggest strength is being able to take the punches in life and smile through it." You finish, giving him a big grin.

"I'm so" He begins sadly, but stops himself at the look of exasperation you give him. He laughs then. "You amaze me, you really do." He pulls you in for a kiss, holding you close to him. "I could really take a lesson or two from you, you're so much stronger than I could ever hope to be."

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #BEN DROWNED #ben drowned x reader #angst

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anhed-nia · 4 years

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BLOGTOBER 10/7/2020

I missed THE GOLDEN GLOVE at Fantastic Fest last year. It was one of my only regrets of the whole experience, but it was basically mandatory since the available screenings were opposite the much-hyped PARASITE. As annoying as that sounds, it was actually a major compliment, since what could possibly serve as a consolation prize for the most hotly anticipated movie of the year? Needless to say, I heard great things, but I could never have imagined what it was actually like. I'm still wrapping my mind around it.

Between 1970 and 1975, an exceptionally depraved serial killer named Fritz Honka murdered at least four prostitutes in Hamburg's red light district. Today, we tend to think of the archetypal serial killer in terms of ironic contradictions: The public is attracted by Ted Bundy's dashing looks and suave manner, and John Wayne Gayce's dual careers as politician and party clown. Lacking anything so remarkable, we associate psychopathy with Norman Bates' boy-next-door charm, and repeat "It's always the quiet ones" with a smirk whenever a new Jeffrey Dahmer or Dennis Nilsen is exposed to the public. The popular conception of a bloodthirsty maniac is not the fairytale monster of yore, but a wolf in sheep's clothing, whose hygienic appearance and lifestyle belie his twisted desires. In our post-everything world, the ironic surprise has become the rule. In this light, THE GOLDEN GLOVE represents a refreshing return to naked truth.

To say that writer-director Fatih Akin's version of the Fritz Honka story is shocking, repulsive, and utterly degenerated would be a gross understatement. We first meet the killer frantically trying to dispose of a corpse in his filthy flat, wallpapered with porno pinups, strewn with broken toys, and virtually projecting smell lines off of the screen. One's sense of embodiment is oppressive, even claustrophobic, as the petite Honka tries and fails to collapse the full dead weight of a human corpse into a garbage bag, before giving up and dismembering it, with nearly equal difficulty. The scene is appalling, utterly debased, and yet nothing is as shocking as the killer's visage. When he finally turns to look into the camera, it's hard to believe he's even human: the rolling glass eye, the smashed and inflated nose, the tombstone teeth and cratered skin, are almost too extreme to bear. Actually, suffering from a touch of facial blindness, I had to stare intently at Honka's face for nearly half the movie before I could fully convince myself that I was, in fact, looking at an elaborate prosthetic operation used to transform 23 year old boy band candidate Jonas Dassler into the disfigured 35 year old serial murderer.

Though West Germany remained on a steady economic upturn beginning in the 1950s and throughout the 1970s, you wouldn't know it from THE GOLDEN GLOVE. If Honka's outsides match his insides, they are further matched by his stomping grounds in the Reeperbahn, a dirty, violent, booze-soaked repository for the dregs of humanity. Though its denizens may come from different walks of life, one thing is certain: Whoever winds up there, belongs there. Honka was the child of a communist and grew up in a concentration camp, yet he swills vodka side by side with an ex-SS officer, among other societal rejects, in a crumbling dive called The Golden Glove. The scene is an excellent source of hopeless prostitutes at the end of their career, who are Honka's prime victims, as he is too frightful-looking to ensnare an attractive young girl. These pitiful women all display a peculiarly hypnotic willingness to go along with Honka, no matter how sadistic he becomes; this seems to have less to do with money, which rarely comes up, and more to do with their shared awareness that for them, and for Honka too, it's been all over, for a long time.

Not to reduce someone’s performance to their physical appearance, but ???

To call Dassler's portrayal of Honka "sympathetic" would be a bridge too far, but it is undeniably compelling. He supports the startling impact of his facial prostheses with a performance of rare intensity, a full-body transformation into a person in so much pain that a normal life will never become an option. His physical vocabulary reminded me of the stage version of The Elephant Man, in which the lead actor wears no makeup, but conveys John Merrick's deformities using his body alone. Although there is an abundance of makeup in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, Dassler's silhouette and agonized movements would be recognizable from a mile away. In spite of his near-constant screaming rage, the actor manages to craft a rich and convincing persona. During a chapter in which Honka experiments with sobriety, we find a stunning image of him hunched in the corner of his ordinarily chaotic flat, now deathly still, his eyes gazing at nothing as cigarette smoke seeps from his pores, having no idea what to do with himself when he isn't in a rolling alcoholic rampage. The moment is brief but haunting in its contrast to the rest of the film, having everything to do with Dassler's quietly vibrating anxiety.

Performances are roundly excellent here, not that least of which are from Honka's victims. The cast of middle-aged actresses looking their most disastrous is hugely responsible for the film's impact. These are the kinds of performances people call "brave", which is a euphemism for making audiences uncomfortable with an uncompromising presentation of one's own self, unvarnished by any masturbatory solicitation. Among these women is Margarete Tiesel, herself no stranger to difficult cinema: She was the star of 2012's PARADISE: LOVE, a harrowing drama about a woman who copes with her midlife crisis by pursuing sex tourism in Kenya. Her brilliant, instinctive performance as one of Honka's only survivors--though she nearly meets a fate worse than death--makes her the leading lady of a movie that was never meant to have one.

So, what does all this unpleasantness add up to, you might be asking? It's hard to say. THE GOLDEN GLOVE is a film of enormous power, but it can be difficult to explain what the point of it is, in a world where most people feel that the purpose of art is to produce some form of pleasure. This is the challenge faced by difficult movies throughout history, like THE GOLDEN GLOVE's obvious ancestors, HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER, MANIAC and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE. Describing unremitting cruelty with relentless realism is not considered a worthy endeavor by many, even if there is real artistry in your execution; some people will even mistake you for advocating and enjoying violence and despair, as we live in a world where huge amount of movie and TV production is devoted to aspirational subjects. (The fact that people won't turn away from the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, no matter how monotonous and condescending they become, should tell you something) How do you justify to such people, that you want to make or see work that portrays ugliness and evil with as much commitment as other movies seek to portray love, beauty, and family values? Why isn't it enough to say that these things exist, and their existence alone makes them worth contemplation?

A rare, perhaps exclusive “beautiful image” in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, from Fritz Honka’s absurd fantasies.

You may detect that I have attempted to have this frustrating conversation with many people, strangers, enemies, and friends I love and respect. I find that for some, it is simply too hard to divorce themselves from the pleasure principle. I don't say this to demean them; some hold the philosophy that art be reserved for beauty, and others have a more literary feeling that it's ok to show characters in grim circumstances, as long as the ultimate goal is to uplift the human spirit. Even I draw the line somewhere; I appreciate the punk rebellion of Troma movies as a cultural force, but I do not enjoy watching them, because I dislike what I perceive as contempt for the audience and the aestheticization of laziness--making something shitty more or less on purpose. A step or three up from that, you land in Todd Solondz territory, where you find materially gorgeous movies whose explicit statement is that our collective reverence for a quality called "humanity" is based on nothing. I like some of those movies, and sometimes I even like them when I don't like them, because I'm entranced by Solondz's technical proficiency...and maybe, deep down, I'm not completely convinced about "humanity", either. However, I don't fight very hard in arguments about him; I understand the objections. Still, I've been surprised by peers who I think of as bright and tasteful, who absolutely hated movies I thought were unassailable, like OLDBOY and WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. In both cases, the ultimate objection was that they accuse humans of being pretentious and self-deceptive, aspiring to heroism or bemoaning their victimhood while wallowing in their own cowardice and perversity. Ok, I get it...but, not really. Why isn't it ever wholly acceptable to discuss, honestly, what we do not like about ourselves?

The beguiling thing about THE GOLDEN GLOVE is that, although it is instantly horrifying, is it also an impeccable production. The director can't help showing you crime scene photos during the ending credits, and I can't really blame him, when his crew worked so hard to bring us a vision of Fritz Honka's world that approaches virtual reality. But it isn't just slavishly realistic; it is vivid, immersive, an experience of total sensory overload. Not a square inch of this movie has been left to chance, and the product of all this graceful control is totally spellbinding. I started to think to myself that, when you've achieved this level of artifice, what really differentiates a movie like THE GOLDEN GLOVE from something like THE RED SHOES? I mean, aside from their obvious narrative differences. Both films plunge the viewer into a world that is complete beyond imagination, crafted with a rigor and sincerity that is rarely paralleled. And, I will dare to say, both films penetrate to the depths of the human soul. What Fatih Akin finds there is not the same as what Powell and Pressburger found, of course, but I don't think that makes it any less real. Akin's film is adapted from a novel by Heinz Strunk, and apparently, some critics have accused Akin of leaving behind the depth and nuance of the book, to focus instead on all that is gruesome about it. This may be true, on some level; I wouldn't know. For now, I can only insist that on watching THE GOLDEN GLOVE, for all its grotesquerie, I still got the message.

#blogtober #2020 #the golden glove #fatih akın #heinz stronk #jonas dassler #margarete tiesel #difficult cinema #horror #slasher #serial killer #period piece #adaptation #historical #biopic #fritz honka #i may have been watching a lot of powell and pressburger movies recently #sorry...

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anavakarian · 4 years

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Day 26: past

Ok, I have to admit that this is a very long blurt out, but I just want to see more actual conversations between these two!

Read it on AO3

It was one of those evenings, lazy, idle, early Spring, that brings scents of newborn flowers and sunlight. And especially there, in the middle of the forest, at the Warehouse.

The rising temperatures had finally dried up the accumulated mud after the heavy winter snow and crescent light gave infinite brushstrokes of a renovated green palette. The vast majority of sprouts had reawakened already, green stems poking out everywhere, and new buds awoke back to life on the trees. But the first flowers to grow were, like always, daffodils: they had already covered the field surrounding the Warehouse with a wild layer of fluorescent yellow.

But despite the obvious changes in temperature and climate, the weather had decided to give the last breath of its bad old habits, unleashing the most unwelcomed storm that weekend. Meaning that my plan to go to the shore with Verda and his family had been postponed, to my disappointment. But I completely understood that the lightning, thunder and the water pouring from the clouds was not the perfect frame to visit and play by the seaside with two little girls.

To top it, all my attempts of going back to my house had been frustrated by a bunch of concerned vampires that seemed to know beforehand how bad the storm would become before I was even able to hear the first raindrops falling. Now, the narrow road that led to the main one had turned into quicksands that impeded any vehicle to drive through.

And that is how I find myself stuck in the Warehouse for another weekend with Unit Bravo. Although, this time, there are no missions, no assignments, no meetings… Nothing to do at all.

Not that I’m complaining: it's always fun to be around Felix; Mason is… definitely caustic, although that doesn’t have to be something bad; I will be able to catch up on some research with Nate and, perhaps - and just if the stars aligned correctly - even train a little bit with Adam. Although, this time, I will try my best to not end our sparring with a heated hold against the floor, even if, since it happened, I haven’t been able to brush the whole scene from my mind at all.

For this Friday evening, I decided to build my fortress in the library, surrounded by my ‘pending list of readings to catch up with’, feet up on the sofa, joggers, tank top, and a comforting glass of red wine.

And it seems that ‘stubborn minds think alike’, as Adam enters the library with a book and his own glass in his hand. He sits on the opposite side of the 5 seater sofa - as far away as he can from me - without any words at all and opens the book in his lap.

I glance at him over the pages of the ‘Fae Compendium’ I’m reading just to admire his perfect posture: both feet flat on the floor, straight back and, just for once, relaxed shoulders. My gaze lingers distractedly over the outline of his discreet Roman nose and the squared profile of his jaw before sliding down towards the broadness of his shoulders and the defined muscles of his arm, stretching the sleeve of his before-usual grey t-shirt. Cargo trousers and more military attire have been recently removed from his wardrobe and replaced by smart clothes - shirts, chinos, shoes… - more according to his rank and the peculiarities of their work in Wayhaven. Although Mason was all scorn and smirks at Adam’s noticeable change of essential clothing, Felix dropped something about him trying to impress someone… And despite Adam’s emotional constipation, I became quite aware that someone was clearly me.

He confessed that ‘I was everything’ and we held hands at the Carnival. It doesn’t seem much at all, but there’s also this insane pulling between us every time we are together. I cannot put words on it. It feels… natural. Good and right. Even if he drives me insane with his sternness and his stubbornness… Although I have to admit that I’m also guilty of the latest, too.

But despite that magnetism or chemistry that pulls us inevitably, neither of us have made any approach effort since the Carnival. Adam… well, because he’s Adam. And me… because it feels somehow correct to wait for him to make the next move. At the end of the day, he’s the one who seems to be struggling to understand what is going on between us. My interest has been laid bare at his feet. Many times. But I’m still waiting for him to decide what he wants to do with it.

As if feeling my concealed and thoughtful stare, his icy green eyes met mine and my stomach flips at being caught. However, I lock my eyes boldly in his, even if I feel my cheeks reddening and the tips of my fingers and toes tingling with excitement.

“D’you know…? It’s usually polite to say hello when you get into a place and find someone else there,” I tease him with a matter-of-fact tone.

Adam’s lips curl up a little bit in return. “I apologize, Detective. You looked quite immersed in the reading. I didn’t want to bother you.”

I hum noncommittally as an answer and go back to my book. And, after feeling his gaze lingering for a little longer over me, Adam goes also back to his.

The silence feels comfortable and that is one of the things that shocks me the most about our relationship: even if the tension between us is a permanent tangible thing, I can perfectly sit with him for hours, just reading or filling out reports… when we are at ease with each other.

I shake my head, trying to stop thinking about him, and I go back to my book.

“Fae supernaturals healing abilities are definitely better than human beings. However, the recovery time differs depending on the species and the nature of the wound.

On the next chart, there are examples of the most common traumas in comparison with the species and the healing time for each of them…”

Shit… I like history, mythology, psychology… And can even do with some biology if necessary, but this is too much for a Friday evening.

Twenty minutes later, my boredom is starting to win the battle. Distractedly, I run a hand through my pixie haircut, brushing the close-crop part at the back of my head.

I have to admit that I love the raspy feeling of short hair on my fingers.

It makes a quiet brushing sound that seems to catch Adam’s attention. I can feel, more than see, how he glances at my subtle movement over his book.

And I meet his eyes, emerald green washing over me with intensity.

His gaze snaps away from mine nearly immediately and there’s a rushed rustling when he turns some pages, clearing his throat.

But I keep staring. And I’m bored. And sudden curiosity sparkles in my mind.

I knew it before, the fact that Adam is more than 900 years old, basically because he told me. But I never got to think of the implications that it meant and I’m heavily struck by it. Like if suddenly understanding that he has actually lived, walked over the Earth, for 900 years. More than 9 human lives!

And I’m utterly gobsmacked and even lightheaded just thinking of it.

In less than a blink, a ton of questions pile up in my mind and itch in my tongue - history, customs, anthropology, religion… - and I decide to finally dismiss the Fae, trying to decide if I should ask them or not. And I’m sure he notices my hesitant stare by the way he shifts his weight a bit. But what really took him off his reading was my fingers tapping insistently a regular and unnerving pattern over the hard book cover in my lap.

He turns his head at me, emerald green finally meeting sapphire blue. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

He gives me a condescending gaze, arching a blonde brow, and the gesture is so incredulous and yet so encouraging that it makes me speak my mind. “I was just thinking of how old you actually are…”

His eyebrows furrow nearly immediately, drawing a deep set of creases between them. Perhaps my admiration has been misunderstood under the boldness of the statement.

“I mean that you have lived for many years and over so many historical periods that I just find it difficult to understand...”

“What is it difficult to understand?” His words are spare and his tone, stern, although there’s a hint of honest curiosity behind them, encouraging the conversation despite his frown.

Speaking to Adam is like feeding a stray cat: you never know exactly when you’re overstepping your proximity, although I’m fully aware that he enjoys some old good snarky comments and clever retorts sometimes… But they can also scare him away in the blink of an eye.

“How are you still sane, for instance?” I declare with a shrug, the Fae book resting in my lap, open awkwardly, forcing its spine.

It’s obvious that my question takes him completely off-guard. After some silent seconds, analyzing the teasing and the meaning of it, Adam chuckles quietly. “That’s a very good question, indeed… Sometimes I ask myself that same exact thing.”

It seems that I passed the test. For now.

“It’s just… I can’t wrap my mind around it. Nearly 1000 years are loads of years!”

“They are, trust me. I’m well aware of it.”

I can’t avoid the feeling that he’s mocking me now or being sincere. It is difficult to tell when his expression is so serious most of the time. “How were things? When you were human, I mean…”

His expression suddenly changes: from a thin friendly grin to pursed lips. Adam examines me with a critical eye before speaking. “Are you going to turn this evening into a personal interrogation, Detective?” His words are laced with reluctancy but it doesn’t take me by surprise.

I asked something too personal. I stepped too far.

However, he hasn’t retrieved just yet the book that he had left closed over his thighs, which means he might be keen on carrying on talking.

I try to solve the situation, swiftly explaining my intentions, giving him an honest look back. “I’m not asking you about the specifics of your life, but about the world around you, if that makes sense?”

“And why would I do that?”

Curiosity underlays his words and I use it on my behalf. “Because you can ask me anything you want in return?”

He breathes in deeply, considering, still eyeing me carefully as if he was about to sign a contract with the devil himself.

I am nearly losing my hopes that he would offer himself for that little game when Adam nods, closing his book and putting it aside on the coffee table, retrieving his glass of wine. Then, he bends his leg and rests it on the sofa, shifting his whole body to face me.

He looks… relaxed. Younger with no traces of a frown or his usual stern expression. At ease as I’ve never seen him before. And devilishly handsome.

A rush of nervousness jolts in my body and I completely forget what I wanted to ask, realizing - despite all the odds - how deeply I’m falling for that man. The sudden desire of reaching out for him and tracing his perfectly chiselled jawline with my fingers overwhelms me for an instant.

But that would be too much. It would be stepping too far, again.

Whatever battle he is dealing with himself about us, Adam is the only one who can solve it, and I don’t mind waiting.

Although I don’t fully understand what is going on in his mind.

“If we are going to do this, you’ll have to be more specific, Detective: I cannot tell you everything about the Early Middle Ages…”

I don’t wait for him to finish the sentence, closing my book and putting it aside as well. “How was life? How were the living conditions?” I ask with eagerness.

He scoffs. “That’s far away from being more specific...” However, he quietens and thinks for some seconds. “Life was… tough. And brief, but intense. And dirty. Death was as ordinary as breathing. People died. Illness, famishing, wars… Many of us were lucky to survive our childhood. The culture was kept locked in the monasteries and life was impossible to conceive without religion. Nobility fought against each other for more land, vassals or resources… that was everyday life.”

I retrieve my glass of wine from the table, rolling the stem in my fingers distractedly. “You’re painting it very bad…”

“It was very bad. They are not called the Dark Ages in vain.”

“Did you only live in Normandy?”

“Mostly. Except when my family got involved in wars of vassalage agreements with the feudal lord or the king. But I would rather not talk about it.”

That is clearly my cue to drop the topic, but I am just curious about one last thing. “Ok, can you indulge me with this one? I guess that you belonged to some sort of nobility back then… Did you? Did you have a castle?”

The tips of his lips curve up on a soft grin. “Minor nobility. And yes, we did have a castle.”

“Well… that explains so many things… Like why you boss everyone around, for example.”

My comment makes him chuckle and I’m delighted to hear the sound, rich and warm. The fleeting view of dimples made me smile in return, trying to take in as much as I can of it.

But I’ve got many more questions to be answered. Honest historical curiosity. “Did the system work back then? Feudalism?”

“I suppose it depends on who you ask. It obviously worked for the feudal lord, but trust me that the vassals and the peasants had a very different opinion about it. The wealth and the land belonged to the lord, as books say. And they only responded to the king. Peasants had many taxes to pay. Most of them were paid in kind, as they didn’t have anything else to pay with. That led to hunger, and hunger led to war and death.”

“It is not an optimistic point of view at all…”

“It was what it was.”

“When did things start to change?”

“Believe it or not, when religion started to ease its grip over everything and education and science made their appearance. During the whole Middle Ages, the culture was based and contained in monasteries. Normal people didn’t have any sort of education and mostly everyone was illiterate, including some nobility, too…”

Curiosity strikes me and I can’t help but interrupt him. “Were you one of them?”

Adam gives me a chiding look. “No, I was not. My family took our education very seriously. But as I was saying, things began to change when knowledge started to be more accessible to everyone. It was still mostly reserved for wealthy statements of society and nobility, but it made a whole difference after some years.”

I nod my head, sipping from my wine and he mirrors my gesture. Questions blurt in my mind: now I know he had siblings for sure, so I file the information up in my brain for another occasion, perhaps.

“Is our current government system better?”

“Definitely, although many things can still be improved. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, I mean… I think our system is quite unfair and wealth and power are still very badly distributed, but I haven’t known anything else. Obviously, you have a wider perspective of how things have changed or improved.”

His seriousness turns into a very thin smile, but there’s a mischievous tone underlying his question. “Are you agreeing with me for once?”

“Oy, I agree with you more than often,” I say, faking indignant, making him arch an incredulous brow.

“Anyway, there are still many places that have a close-to-feudal government system and I will give you that, even in ours, the power and wealth are not fairly distributed, yet. But I suppose it’s a matter of time. Probably a long time.”

I nod my head with the certainty that, unless anything changes, I won’t be alive to appreciate the expected changes. But a new line of questioning bursts in my mind. “Have you been to any of those countries?” I ask, suddenly curious about his own experiences over 900 years.

Adam shifts again on the sofa, leaning his side on the back of it, and his top stretches gracefully over his tightened biceps. “No, Not recently. Our last assignment took us to different areas of South America, where some countries still have a ‘curious’ political situation.”

“Wow… You must have travelled quite a lot in 900 years…” It was not a question but a statement.

“Yes, I have. What about you?”

His question takes me by surprise. At this point, my human life seems too boring and far too mundane to have any interest at all. My brain stammers in finding a proper answer to it. “I… I don’t know. Well, yes, of course, I know. Not as much as I would have liked to, I suppose.”

I am fully aware of the vagueness of my answer by the way he quirks his eyebrow at me, demanding more information.

“I wasn’t very specific, was I?” I ask, scrunching my nose. I don’t have to wait for his answer to carry on. “Ok, I went to uni, I got pissed when Rebecca pulled back my application for the FBI and I put everything on standby. I got a backpack and I set off to Europe. I was ‘on the run’ for two years, but that’s why I babble in so many languages. Do you speak any languages?”

Adam purses his lips and I see a flick of embarrassment on his features. “Latin, English and French… Only because I learnt them when I was a child,” he confesses.

“How so? I had very high language expectations for a person that has lived over 900 years…” I tease him.

I find it quite funny the way he tries to explain himself. “Well… French and English have changed considerably since Medieval times… French had been quite important for many centuries. Back in time, more than half of Europe spoke French. And then English grew up to be the trade language: there was no need to learn anything else at all...”

“Fair point, I suppose…” I have to admit. “Or perhaps you were just being a bit lazy…?”

His smile widens. “I suppose you can also put it that way… I’m not… gifted for languages,” Adam admits, to my surprise. But before I can tease him further, he puts me under the spotlight, once again. “Where did you live? When you travelled to Europe, I mean.”

His interest seems genuine and it encourages my explanations and makes me a bit nervous, indeed. “Florence and Rome in Italy, suburbs of Paris, Berlin, Barcelona and Santander in Spain, London, of course, Budapest for a little while, although the language was too much for me…”

There’s a shine of admiration in his emerald eyes. And curiosity. “That’s quite a long journey for just two years.”

“It was… I quite enjoyed it: meeting new people, getting to know every secret and hidden corner of the cities… I didn’t do bad: I usually shared accommodation and worked in many crappy places.” I smile melancholically at the memory. “Rebecca also financed part of the trip, trying to buy my forgiveness. I suppose she felt guilty for ruining my expectations within the FBI...”

Even if my tone is easy, there’s still a sharp bitterness lacing my words and Adam notices it. He knows how bad the relationship with Agent Greene is. And, unlike Nate and Felix, I do really appreciate the fact that he has never tried to fix it, probably understanding the harm done and the fact that it was not his business at all.

“You clearly liked that life, why to come back here?”

I sigh with deep resignation. “I wish I could have stayed travelling… One day she turned the tap off. I survived for some months, but my income was not good enough and, sadly, my studies were quite criminology/psychology orientated to begin a brand new career in a different country.”

“But why come back here, to Wayhaven? You could have gone anywhere else.”

I chuckle bitterly. “Come back here was the last thing on my list, trust me: it was not in my plans at all. But they offered me the job and the promotion right after on a silver platter. An easy and shooting career, I have to admit. Not many people get to be a detective in less than a year. Of course Rebecca had something to do with it, but who cared at that point.”

Adam hums quietly, meditative. “I have to admit that, after having worked with you for some time, you are fairly competent as a detective.”

Wow, is that a compliment? Coming from him? About my skills as a detective?

His face is totally serious and I’m secretly glad that we are past the stage when we headbutted each other every day about our leadership disagreements. “Thank you, I suppose. It means quite a lot, coming from you and I do really appreciate it. Anyway, it’s my turn again. What is your craziest story about travelling?” I enquiry, sipping some wine.

“Are we talking about missions with the Agency?”

“No, not really. Something curious, funny or unusual… I don’t know. Whatever!”

Adam thinks for a little while, emptying his glass in the process and I give him some time for it. Definitely, 900 years are many years to think about.

“I think it was travelling the Silk Road little after its popularity grew within the West of Europe… It had been quite popular for some centuries already in Byzantium, but I think I must have been one of the first travellers from the Northern regions… Probably the palest person no one had ever seen there, or that’s what I deduced by the way everyone treated me. Once we arrived in Asia… It was quite common that people stopped me to touch my hair or my face as if they couldn’t believe I was real… Obviously, my features were quite different from the people that lived there… Probably they hadn’t seen anyone so white before...”

I can’t help but snicker at his words, picturing the situation like something taken from a film. “Well, it is true that you’re really pale. Perhaps a sunbathe from time to time would help with that…” my brain supplies, all witty.

He gives me a chiding look, one eyebrow arched up. “I wish it was that easy but trust me, it doesn’t work that way at all, Eve...”

My name sounds warm and sweet like honey on his lips and a thrill of pleasure runs down my spine thinking of him calling my name in many very different contexts, probably with fewer clothes involved.

“That’s a shame… I’m sure it would be quite a sight,” I return, flirty and mischievous.

Damn it! Sometimes I can’t just help it… But, to my surprise, Adam meets my gaze with a rather playful smirk and seems about to retort something back to me.

But, suddenly, his expression turns grave and he quietens, whatever he was about to say dying in his lips.

Perhaps it’s better not to pursue that line of conversation anymore.

I hear some steps on the corridor, even and unhurried. They stop in front of the library door and I turn my gaze to it, expecting Nate’s tall figure to come inside. Out of the corner of my eye, I perceive how Adam stiffens, still looking at me, but I’m sure he’s listening carefully to whoever is in the corridor. After some seconds, the steps resume, getting further away from us and he seems to relax again.

I won’t be surprised if he decides we had enough conversation already but, to my amazement, he adjusts his position on the sofa and waits for me to carry on with my interrogation, an encouraging calm expression on his face.

And I have to admit that I blank for some seconds, not knowing what to ask to keep him talking on the most friendly and intimate moment we have shared since we met. “What’s the best part of these times? What do you like the most?”

“Do you mean from this age?”

I just nod my head, eager to know his answer.

“Many things, I suppose… Water supply, medical advances, hygiene, the Internet, phones, flushable private toilets, cars…”

“Toilets?” I am a bit puzzled before understanding that toilets were actually quite different not many years ago. “Oh… ah! Fair enough.”

Adam gazes at me and offers me an amused tiny smile but I’m already interested in something else he said before. “Was it difficult to learn driving?”

His chest lowers in a contained sarcastic scoff and he rolls his eyes. I love the gesture immediately. “An odyssey at first, but I grew to like it. Nate is the only one who is still working on it.”

“I know he’s not very keen on any sort of technology… Last time I texted him it took him 12 min to type a reply... He told me you like cars.”

“Not the actual cars, but I like restoring and repairing them.”

His statement leaves me open-mouthed, as in my narrowed mind it’s quite hard to believe than a 900 years old vampire could remotely be able to understand the mechanics of a car. “Hang on… Do you actually know how to repair a car?”

For a parted moment, Adam feels quite pleased with himself. “Is it that surprising? I had to invest properly the time I didn’t use for learning languages...”

I gaze at his face, confused. His expression is soft but serious, however, there’s again that hint of sarcasm in his beautiful green eyes. “You know what? It’s very difficult to know when you are joking when your expression is exactly the same one than when we are arguing, you know?” I tease him, faking indignant.

He chuckles again and I melt with the sound.

I don’t want this evening to end. This conversation to end. Us.

“Perhaps you can give me a hand with mine, then?” I ask, hopeful.

But Adam just shakes his head. “I fix cars, but I don’t do miracles, Eve. Your car... I think buying a new one would be advisable in your case”

I shoot him a glare at his snarky comment but I’m happy to see that he’s openly smiling at me.

“Do you have any hobbies? What do you do when you’re not at the police station or working with us?” he wants to know.

Another question enquiring about me. I empty my glass and put it on the side table, realizing how green and clear his eyes are and how at ease he seems to be right now. Probably the distance between us has something to do with it (we are still sitting on opposite sides of the sofa). “Not that I had much time lately, but working out, writing, playing the guitar… But I’m sure you know that last one already.”

He hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t seem content with just one question. His next one is actually quite deep. “Do you regret knowing about us? Not just the Unit. Knowing about supernaturals’ existence?”

I divert my gaze from his and lean back on the arm of the sofa, wiggling my toes extended in front of me. It still takes me a long deep breath in to put my thoughts together to reply to his question, knowing I’m stepping on thin ice. “I did at first.”

Adam lowers his gaze. A quick scene of one of our conversations right after I was informed about everything flashes in my mind. He called himself a monster and I didn’t do anything to contradict the statement. I was not in the correct mindset, neither ready to see the truth. Embarrassment at my doing seeps through every pore of my skin. “But I don’t anymore. Learning the truth hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t change it at all. I’m quite glad to be part of it with you.”

His eyes dart to mine with a mixture of gratitude and alarm at my confession and I don’t really want to, but I explain myself further. “With all of you, Unit Bravo.”

But specifically you.

As he relaxes again, I decide to push my luck further. “Adam… I always wanted to ask you this but I will understand if you don’t want to answer. Did you keep in touch with your family after… You know… Becoming a vampire?”

Deep old sadness dampens his green eyes that flicker to the wall behind me and I’m nearly sure he won’t reply. He seems to be lost in memories for some seconds before meeting my gaze again. “I did at first. I was not ready to assume what happened to me. I was in denial.”

“Was it not compatible? To be with your family, I mean...”

He smiles again but this time is quite different. Guilty and melancholic. “Not for a young vampire. Not at all. I had to leave...”

I regret bringing up the topic immediately because I don’t want to know about it. Not if it hurts him. Not if he is not ready.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you recall painful memories. I understand that if you love someone you are never ready to let go…”

“I tracked my descendants for some generations, but their lives were fleeting. Mortal lives still are sometimes. It became more and more difficult within the years. The loss…”

“So you just shut down…” I mutter, suddenly understanding.

Adam stares at me with glazed green eyes under blonde eyelashes, looking at me but without seeing me, lost in memories. And it all made sense now. All of him.

The only way he has been able to survive has been closing himself to any feeling. Switching off that part of his humanity that cared about anyone else. And that is why he’s so disturbed around me. Because I break his defences and remind him of everything he has lost.

The fact that he has feelings for me breaks the balance that his life has had for nearly a thousand years and he is completely lost on what to do about it.

About me. About us.

He just doesn’t want to lose me.

And there’s just one way he wouldn’t have to.

“Are you all right?” I ask, shyly and guilty.

“Yes. I am,” he states after a sharp inhale, retrieving his book from the table.

“I’m going to have dinner with Nate, would you like to join us?”

“No, thank you. I’ll carry on with my reading, Detective.”

Our conversation is clearly over and I smile sadly at the recovered title, my name forbidden on his lips once again.

“Thank you,” I say while standing up.

“What for?”

“For talking to me. For letting me know you.”

Adam doesn’t reply, but I swear I can see the quirk of a smile blooming on his lips when he looks at me.

When I walk past him, my hand lands on his broad shoulder and I feel him stiffen at the contact, all hard muscle and warmth under my touch. I give him a grateful squeeze.

My heart stutters and my breath hitches when his own hand covers mine, interlacing our fingers loosely for just some seconds.

“Thank you for understanding,” he hushed whispers before I resume my steps.

@31daysofwayhaven

#31daysofwayhaven #31 Days of Wayhaven #twc #The Wayhaven Chronicles #adam du mortain #female detective #f!detective/adam #library conversations #a's story #headcanon #mutual pining #longing

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cyoza · 4 years

Text

drunk in love

*spongebob voice* 10 years later

I know I said I would do this ages ago and I’m sorry I have been p burnt out with my writing so I didn’t wanna like force it but I’ve managed to find some inspo and get down to it

I have read through it but I’ve had two glasses of wine and I am ill so if I’ve made any mistakes I apologise

thanks for reading in advance and i hope its a good read!

- The last thing Naomi expected as she stood pouring herself a cup of coffee was the heavy weight of Jim’s head as he collapsed his head on her shoulder nor was she ready for the assault of vodka that invaded her nostrils. She automatically pulled her head away to escape the aroma but Jim merely followed, bristling his cheek against hers as he wound his arms around her. She let out a soft chuckle as she gave in and placed her arms on top of his, ignoring the vodka scent and leaning into him before breaking the silence.

‘Hello.’ She greeted simply.

He responded by pulling her closer and pressing a sloppy kiss under her jaw, earning another giggle from her.

‘Have a good time?’ She queried, the humour evident in her tone.

He let out a wistful hum of assent as his head sank heavier on her shoulder to the point where she could no longer hold it there. So she turned in his arms and was met with an utterly heart melting sight. It was a rare occasion where she got to see Jim relaxed or anything but tense, even in his sleep he would frequently thrash and toss with nightmares. Yet here he was, dazed and blithe with a full smile that never appeared anymore. It was impossible to hold back her own smile as she stared at him, pleased that Amos and Alex had finally got him to let his hair down.

‘I missed you.’ His words slurred as he spoke them but it was the pout that accompanied them that caused a bubble of laughter to build in her stomach.

‘Did you?’ She lifted her arms to land on his shoulders. ‘Well I’m sure you had fun anyway.’

‘It would have been more fun with you there.’ He complained, pulling her flush against him as he pressed a lazy kiss on her lips.

She melted into him for a second, as she always did when he kissed her. But in his attempt to deepen the kiss and slide his hands past her waist, she was reminded that Jim was in fact drunk and this was not the place for PDA.

‘Jim, not here.’ She protested, pulling away from the kiss but keeping his arms around him.

‘Why not?’ He asked, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

‘I don’t particularly want Amos or Alex stumbling in here and catching us in a compromising position.’ She pointed out.

‘Who cares? I’m all about compromising positions.’ He purred, placing his lips at a particularly electrifying spot behind her ear and stupefying her for a second. But she couldn’t be distracted right now.

‘And that brings me on to point number two: you’re drunk right now. All you need is a large glass of water and a bed.’ She rolled her eyes when Jim moved back and gave her a knowing grin. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘When did you get so boring, Nagata?’ He goaded, lips slanting into an impish smile.

Naomi shook her head and ignored his childish attitude. She stepped back, sliding her hands down his arms to grip his own and saying nothing further as she dragged him through the ship, having to stop and shush him multiple times when he bumped into various railings along the way. It felt akin to leading a toddler back to sleep after they’d woken up in the middle of the night. She felt a gut punch of bittersweet emotion as nostalgic feeling set in her gut from. But she pushed the feeling back down to the depths it rose from and pulled him through the door of their cabin. She placed him against the cabin wall and turned to shut it behind them.

‘Are you going to take me to bed now, Naomi?’ He enquired cheekily.

The eye roll that followed after his question was almost reflexive at this point but again she kept quiet so as to not indulge him and instead pulled him from the wall and removed his t shirt.

Or at least she tried to.

It seemed as though vodka flipped a switch in Jim where he was no longer the stoic, responsible Captain they knew him as but rather a stubborn teen. Getting him to just lift his arms so she could take off his shirt was a mission she wasn’t prepared for. But it wasn’t too long before she had him in his boxers and under the covers. She quickly stripped off and lay next to him, sweeping his hair back from his face. Thankfully, by the time his head hit the pillow, he calmed down some and his eyelids drooped heavier than they did before. He, however, wasn’t ready to sleep apparently.

‘I love you.’ He stated, stroking a tired arm down her spine.

‘I know.’

‘You know?’ He mimicked pointedly.

‘I love you.’ She echoed. ‘Of course I do.’

‘I know. But it’s nice to be reminded.’ His voice was clouded with sleep and alcohol but still he continued to speak. ‘Actually, I don’t think I say it enough. I’m so grateful to have come into your orbit, Naomi. You have taught me so much about myself. It hasn’t always been necessarily good between us but I don’t think I would ever change it. Maybe just more of the time we lost. But now we’re here and we’ve been through so much together and I don’t think I could have done it without you.’

Naomi felt her heart clench with warmth as he continued talking, her eyes filling with unexpected tears. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear this; especially when he was in such a vulnerable state.

‘Jim..’ She whispered hesitantly.

‘No, shush. Let me finish.’ He placed a clumsy finger on her lips, stopping her from talking and drawing a breathless chuckle.

‘Ok, sorry. Go ahead.’ She relented tearfully.

‘You ground me. You are the glue that keeps this ship - this family - together. I don’t know where we would be without you. And outside of us you’re the smartest person I know, you’re logical and powerful and so so sexy. But more than anything you’re passionate and it’s always stuff that you care so deeply about. I’m so grateful for you, Naomi.’

By the time he had finished speaking, Naomi’s cheeks were wet. She couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so open with his feelings for her. The only time coming close in the controls room after she said she’d loved him for the first time. But this time it was unprompted and completely sucker punched her.

‘I’m grateful for you, too Jim. I love you. So much.’ She professed, voice thick and shaky. ‘I would say more but I doubt you’ll remember it in the morning. How are you so eloquent when you’re so drunk?’

Jim simply responded with a mumble that resembled something the lines with ‘I don’t know’ but the snores that followed immediately after made it clear that he was in no position to elaborate. She stared at him lovingly even as he snored, feeling luckier than she had in a long time to be in the position that she was in despite all they had to deal with. She gazed at him for a moment longer before placing her head on his bicep, feeling content as she drifted away to sleep.

Jim’s eyes flickered open but he felt disoriented as he did so. His mouth felt like someone had rubbed sand in it whilst he was asleep and his brain felt like it was trying to escape his skull. Then pieces of the night before flooded into his mind.

Drinking with Alex and Amos. Rounds of Karaoke. A LOT of vodka.

He lifted his head and felt his sins rise up from the depths of hell known as his stomach. He couldn't remember a time when he felt worse after a night of drinking and couldn’t remember a time when he’d regretted it more. His attention was drawn to the movement next to him and he realised that it was Naomi. Did he go out with Naomi too? He didn’t remember her being there.

‘Good morning.’ She said smugly.

But her voice was amplified even in the small room.

‘Ugh, less volume thank you.’ He pleaded. ‘What happened?’

‘You got very drunk on vodka with Alex and Amos.’ She explained, eyes light with amusement.

‘God no wonder I feel so awful. Why do you seem okay?’

‘Because I didn’t drink. But I’m glad you drank as much as you did,’ She admitted mysteriously.

‘What do you mean by that?’ He asked, trying to rub the throbbing in his head.

‘You mean you don’t remember giving Alex a lapdance?’ She questioned incredulously.

Jim stilled.

‘I did what?!’

‘Just kidding!’

Naomi gave him a wide, joking smile and even through his crippling hangover and rippling irritation, he still found her utterly captivating. So he matched her lighthearted energy.

‘You’re insufferable.’ He told her.

‘Yeah but you love me.’

‘Yes, I do.’

#the expanse #nolden #nolden fic #nolden fanfic #james holden #naomi nagata #alex kamal #amos burton #nolden fanfiction #i kinda wrote jim as like a lovesick himbo here #which is what i think he would be if he wasnt so under pressure #i wont take any criticisms on that factor though #i mean i will #im always up for constructive criticisms

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pinkykitten · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @writing-with-melon I hope my answers aren’t complete waste or if time and if so I’m sorry and I love you

Rules: Answer ten 10 questions, ask 10, and tag 10 people

1. What song automatically plays in your head when you look out the window on a long drive?

i dont really have an answer for this. i think i just automatically think about any song ive been listening to recently or any song that has been stuck in my head.

2. Do you have some snacks nearby when you write?

well i live in a two story house so the kitchen is downstairs and im usually lazy busy so since i have a mini fridge upstairs i just usually get water to drink while im writing. its kinda hard to eat and write cuz i loose focus really easily so when i am writing i am writing! i am in the zone! but if i am a little hungry ill usually snack on candy like chocolate kinder joys i love them but they r so expensive or snack on chips but i get like salt on my fingers or i like cheetos so cheetos dust and that just gets everywhere and later my hands and keyboard kinda smell like fart. 3. What do you do to combat creative burnout?

so burnout happens to me a lot so to get inspiration i either read other stories or fanfics which gets my head gears turning or i admire a piece of art or photography or a song. whats so unique and satisfying with writing you can explore and go anywhere with it, hehehe erotic if you know what i mean lol jk there are no barriers with writing just your imagination. there is inspiration any where you go and id advise to never stop writing. even if its a few short sentences or paragraphs about anything even bird poop its still progression and your mind is working and your searching for words like its all good for you bby. 4. Do you use (or like to use) prompts?

i do ill put the link here. im thinking of changing it though to do something different.

5. What is your favorite place to write?

lol boring, i know but my room. my room is really bright in the mornings and comfortable and chill and i have a candle of the pandora ride in disney that smells like the ride so its all good and relaxing and super peaceful plus i have a picture of myself the age of like 9 on my desk idk why but it encourages me and makes me focus to make sure i never get that cringy again.

6. What is a hobby or yous that you usually don’t talk about?

well i like working out HAHAHAHAHA jk that was a joke...get it...cuz i much rather be eatingokillstop. but i really like to draw which i have a art page you can see it if you click here pls look at my failed attempts to be hip and cool with the cool kids and being artsy fartsy. another hobby is i really like to do makeup and nail art, nail art is really tough guys no joke if you do it like you got wizard powers are something. maybe its bc my nails are shorter than pete davidson and ariana grande’s relationship, alright im trying to stop i swear!

7. Do you play an instrument? Which one?

no i wish though. i always wanted to learn to either play the piano or electric guitar cuz H.E.R looks so cool doing it.

8. How do you feel about your handwriting?

it sucks dont even try me. my sister can barely read it like no wonder nobody wants to steal my signature heck they can’t even read it!

9. Can you tell us of a story that marked your development as a person? As a writer?

ok sit back guys, sniff a nice amount of crack and get ready for the most cringy moment of my life but also a time when i knew i was meant to be *inhale* a fanfic writer.

so it was elementary school, i think 3rd grade and for my writing assignment we were given a prompt of idk what the heck tbh i think it was like be outside the box and im like ok imma nail this cuz im a weird child and yeah so i got my papers and pencil and i went TO TOWN on this paper. so i wrote two stories. one short story with a picture to go with it and one long story that yeah i buried years ago. so my first story was about a farmer was about that farming life. he had chickens and dairy. so i cant remember if the cheese was spoiled but doesnt matter. anywho these cheese and a chicken were alive like they could talk in the story and i gave them faces, yikes. but the whole story was the farmer was a b*tch and he was trying to eat the chicken and cheese so they hatched a plan to get away from the farmer. they did it successfully and they ran away. yay happy ending my teacher actually liked that one me too and my school mates were thinking what they heck is this girl on i made a story about how me and justin bieber made cookies for Christmas you know. so then my other story i was more proud of this one cuz it was a tone of paper, sorry trees, and this story was about how a female hippo (girl i was all about plus size and thicker girls and no body shaming) and an male ostrich were kidnapped from their own habitats and taken to become circus animals. failed version of Madagascar hey mine was before the circus movie OK THEY STOLE IT FROM MEEEEE. so they get taken and are treated to harsh punishment and the animals can talk and i think its in the point of view of the male ostrich guy thing. they are in the circus and they start to have this relationship happening. love starts blossoming its all good. im happy with this cuz i believed in love at age of 8. they find a way thru a kick butt scene of the animals escaping and the hippo and ostrich are so in love that they run away together and they have half hippo half ostrich babies and i think i named the species hipstrich or like ostppo idk but i was so proud of this story and when my teacher read it she was worried about me lol i think she thought i might like mate these two animals like secretly idk but she was like it was ok and i was like what this is frickin William Shakespeare writing or like F. Scott Fitzgerald writing. nevertheless it taught me a lesson that nobody else needs to like what im writing the main point and only thing that matters is if your proud of it and you like it and i really did. i will remember that story forever and thats what made me want to be a writer. lol sorry that was a lot.

10. @emdop I’m going to use this great question: Explain one of your WIPs in the most ridiculous way possible.

wellllll im working on my peaky blinders oc story its a lot of drugs money killing weapons jewelry rich profanities like its the show but written from my stubby hands so my oc and whatever its great and so excited to show it to you guys.

MY QUESTIONS:

1. WHAT MADE YOU WANT TO START TUMBLR?

2. IF YOU COULD CHANGE ANYTHING OF THIS WORLD, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

3. WHAT QUALITY IS IMPORTANT TO YOU?

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE OUTFIT?

5. WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE?

6. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SONG IN THE WHOLE WORLD?

7. IF YOU COULD VISIT A PLACE, WHERE WOULD IT BE?

8. WHAT SHOW OR MOVIE UNIVERSE WOULD YOU WANT TO BE IN?

9. WHAT IS THE SCARIEST MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE?

10. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE IN THIS WORLD THAN ANYTHING ELSE?

im tagging: @thatlittlered, @ardentmuse, @acciosnapes, @lotsoffandomimagines, @collecting-stories, @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms, @naughtyneganjdm, @lenahellgizibe and two random followers @spiritsent, @sucker-for-my-fandoms

i was tagged by @writing-with-melon again ty btw, ps i felt so much pressure lol jk 😊

Rules: Answer 5 questions, Ask 5 questions, Tag 5 people.

1. What is your favorite book?

fifty shades of grey hahaha naw my favorite book is obv you all know this is series of unfortunate events but i never usually cry period and i never cry for books ever so when i read mrs. tom thumb by melanie benjamin, its the part when her sister minnie dies i cried so hard idk it was just emotional the wording the way she described her pain it was so beautiful written yet so sad and that was just amazing to me cuz im like this book made me feel things and im like wow i would love to write a book one day and make someone feel something whether it be sadness anger happiness annoyance anything they are having an emotion and that is super powerful to do that with just words. pls go check out that book its a good read. also im a fan of the greatest showman so i really enjoyed it. there are many other books tho that i thoroughly enjoy so much.

2. What piece that you’ve written are you most proud of?

oh my god ive always wanted to be asked this question hands down i am always proud of my platonic gender neutral tony stark fic called in·con·sol·a·ble window to me i wrote it so sad and i was feeling like depressed lol when i saw peter die in infinity war like i didnt know what to do with my life tbh but im so glad that @impetrichorny requested it tysm i just like how its not based on romance or fluff or happiness it is based on when you lose someone the nightmares and sadness you go through and that there is nothing nobody can do about it except just be there for that person so i really like writing angst and something that was out of the box. ive been thinking tho of doing a part two since the fate of all the characters has changed after endgame. who knows tho.

3. What is the last song that inspired you?

well for art it would have to good news by mac miller when i did that kobe bryant memorial on my art page. i dont want to give it away though but ill just say some very powerful womens music inspired my oc writing and making.

4. How do you feel about letting people read what you write?

at first i was scared cuz i thought i wrote like trash which that feeling kinda doesnt go away like some days i feel that way others i feel confident or it depends on the request it just depends but anyways i was always insecure about my writing so when i started writing it was more like lets see how this goes if not ill delete the whole page. im glad to say it went great but in the begging it was hard cuz i kept putting myself down but i learned to accept or just understand that you keep learning with writing you always learn knew things with writing how you can explain something better or you words get more intricate and people see the improvement and you do too thats why i applaud those who dont speak english that english isnt their first language. you are doing a tremendous job and keep practicing cuz you’re gonna make it to the top. ive also learned that some days are not my days and you can take time off when youre not feeling it when you have writers block. just recollect your juices sip some tea go to the beach relax your mind a little and take as long as you need to come back and give it your all. also comments and reblogs and likes a follows those meant so much to me and encouraged me. thats why i cant express it enough how much all those mean to writers, artist, photographers, anybody who is truly trying their hard in this area of social media. its makes a person happy smile and confident in their writing but first train your mind into loving what you make not what others thing. you have to be happy with the outcome that is what truly matters and what makes your writing the best. look at me getting philosophical.

5. Do you get distracted easily? If yes with what?

yes and with porn haha i get distracted easily like very easily homeschooling was really tough for me. music distracts me, netflix, the urge to watch david dobrik or unus annus or buzzfeed unsolved on youtube, heck my farts distract me. i gotta be like troy bolton i gotta get my HEAD IN THE GAME!

MY QUESTIONS:

1. IF YOU COULD BE NAMED SOMETHING ELSE, WHAT WOULD YOU BE NAMED?

2. WHAT PERSON INSPIRES YOU THE MOST?

3. IF YOU KNEW THE WORLD WAS ENDING TOMORROW WHAT WOULD YOU DO TODAY?

4. WHAT DO YOU OFTEN THINK ABOUT IN THE SHOWER?

5. WHATS YOUR WEIRD COMBINATION FOOD?

im tagging: @thatlittlered, @ardentmuse, @acciosnapes, @lotsoffandomimagines, @collecting-stories AND WHOEVER WANTS TO DO THIS IF YOU FOLLOW ME OR LIKE MY STORIES TAG ME ILL READ YOUR ANSWERS. HOPE I DID THIS RIGHT SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING MWUAH

#ask #@writing-with-melon #rambles #writing #tips on writing #unus annus #david dobrik #netflix #buzzfeed unsolved #peaky blinders oc #kobe bryant #mac miller #tony stark #peter parker #the greatest showman #tom thumb #troy bolton #zac efron

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ekuly-lazy-guy · 4 years

Text

This is the story of Succedaneum!Sans

* I’m too lazy to draw all the plots, so I wrote this. (No one cares anyway.)

* To differentiate, I will call Succedaneum!Sans Succe for short in the following.

* To better understand some concepts of Succ, please check my previous posts.

* Sorry for my bad English.

THE START (Succe’s original world)

There was never human visiting the underground, Flin (the name they stated) was the first one;

The Dreemurr family treated them well, all monsters were kind and easygoing;

When they reached the end, they felt emptiness;

“There must be something else, something...interesting”

The wish of wanting excitement filled Flin with determination, they gained the ability to RESET and started a genocide route;

The monsters were strong, After all the hard works, Flin finally reached the final corridor. The one that waiting for them,was the smiling skeleton;

Although Flin had tried their best, Succe blocked all their attacks and killed them easily without a blink of an eye socket;

When reaching their 400 RESET, Flin succesfully gave Succe a damage for the first time, finally they can end this battle;

However, what happened next obliterated their determination to continue fighting. Succ had his left eye glowing and they were wrecked by a dozen of dragon head like blasters;

“It’s impossible, he’s too strong, it’s just, IMPOSSIBLE...”

“I want revenge. If I cannot kill him physically, how about destroy him mentally?”

Flin chose to RESET and went for a Neutral route which they killed Papyrus and never came back.

WENT DOWN

The following years after the human left, Succe went crazy on finding methods to RESET, even extreme to experiment with souls of other monsters;

After numerous failures, Succe came up with a terrible idea, using himself as a medium and the magic of CORE;

The overdose of magic made him completely lose his mind. This idea was a disaster;

Or, maybe a wise attempt?

When Succe regained consciousness, there was nothing left but a luminous crack;

He went through the crack. In front of him, was a familiar but also different world. It’s a UT (like) timeline with a Pacifist Ending;

(* it’s not wise to touch the Classic, so let’s just stick to the term ‘timeline’)

Succe met the Sans in this world;

In conversation, Succe learned that the human in this world opened the barrier and lived happily with all monsters underground. They went up to surface regularly for their daily purchase and many other stuff. Everything’s nice and peaceful.

The overdose of magic, and the lost of his own world affect his emotions so much. He went nuts again;

“I want my Happy Ending, and you are in my way.”

He nearly dusted the Sans in this world but kepted the soul. Now there are two souls in his body.

NOW (Succe’s current situation)

Apparently, having two souls stabilized the massive amount of magic, Succe survived;

He faked an accident and pretend to have amnesia, everyone believed him;

“Playing victim actually works. How ridiculous and pathetic.”

“Sans, did you grow taller?”

“No brother, maybe you just remembered wrong.”

[I’m trying my best to stoop so I look shorter.]

“What’s wrong? This is your favourite, I’m not charging you today.”

“Ok, thanks.”

[Ketchup is too sweet for me, Coffee or tequila would be much better.]

“【PUN】”

“...Good one, lady.”

[This Sans likes pun heh. Guess I should try it.]

“* You tell Sans everthing would be fine.”

“Sure.”

[Stop the thought, killing this human is a stupid idea.]

Emptiness

Anxious

Stress

Lie

“I did this to myself.”

{You did this to yourself.}

The voice of the other soul keeps reminding him, he’s a liar.

#succedaneum!sans #sans au #undertale au

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artificiary-fr · 4 years

Text

ok so arti’s unnecessary opinion time

Just wanna give a disclaimer that these are just my sort of thoughts in general, and are in no way an attempt to demean, attack, or cause drama about any artist or staff member, or community member. Just kind of what I’ve observed and come to the questions/conclusions of. I got a little opinionated at the end but I tried not to single anyone out save for I think, one unnamed example?

I’ll put everything under the cut here, because I know I have a tendency to get wordy (and spoiler: It did. This is a super long post, I’m sorry). So, here we go...

TL;DR: I like the gene, I’ll wait for the revamp before giving a concrete opinion, there were definitely some issues, I appreciate that staff took note/action, more communication like this or the dev streams is good (though communication between staff/community is a Thing unto itself of which I probably have a Disliked Take on and that was the really long part that isn’t necessary to read)

Okay before anything: the familiars. They’re super pretty! I like the recolors, and now I’m gonna have to grind the Kelp Beds for those boss fams. Dang. I love the kitty golem recolor.

With that out of the way, here we are - the subject of today’s discussions... Glowtail.

So, my first opinion: It’s not a bad gene! I can see some curious use for it, certainly. But there are some problems with it (and yes; I am aware staff has addressed this and pulled it to fix those problems! That’ll be more relevant later on here c: )

Note One: I think I do understand why it is a gem gene. Yes, design/thematically it does appear to fit the bill of a Baldwin Gene more. But I’d like to posit it’s the completion of a gem-gene set - Wasp/Bee/Glowtail. So in that regard, it makes sense!

Note Two: My personal opinion with the gene is that I like it, but it feels... hm. Plain isn’t correct. Like it’s missing something, I guess? I wish the segmenting was a little more prominent, and that the glow or gradient had a little more glitz/glamor, maybe some glitteries around the hips, to really sell it as a gem gene. I do like the glow we have on the other bits of dragon like light reflection, though, because it adds a little bit of dimension! All in all however even so, I do like it, and I won’t cement my opinion until we see what their updated version looks like in the future.

Note Three (The Problems): The art errors. What... what happened here?

As we’ve noticed, male snappers and male tundras are the two big offenders, with large chunks of color erroneously sitting outside the lineart quite noticeably. There is also part of the ‘glow’ (the aforementioned light reflection) that doesn’t make sense - being on parts of the dragon where it shouldn’t be, like on the front of wings where the tail is not in front of said limb, but behind.

But like... how did this not get caught before it got posted? Was it a time crunch, or it just... didn’t get quality checked before this happened? It’s really unfortunate. :c

Something I do with my art - and this is just my own process/thoughts - is when I’ve put down the base color, before I do any shading/highlights/big details, I pop a layer underneath the entire drawing and fill it with a high contrast color to the palette. That way any bits where I missed coloring in - or didn’t clean up outside the lines - becomes super noticeable, and I can fix it then instead of being a problem later. Maybe doing something like this before throwing the gene through the color automation process would’ve helped?

Last Note:

I feel like part of why these errors went unnoticed is because of how often, and sometimes how rushed, some of these updates have been - and this has been more noticeable in this year than otherwise. Is it because of community dissent with wanting more updates creating more crunch? Due to low-attention reticence creating a need for pushing more ad revenue / more “come to the site there’s new”?

I’m unsure, but it’s unfortunate nonetheless. I think staff, and FR as a whole, would benefit from like... hm. How to word this...

Maybe taking more time on updates / a more extended schedule so things aren’t as crunch (of course this being said, I don’t know what the workload is like so I can’t even say if crunch is applicable), and more open communication? Like how the dev streams were going - that was pretty well liked and everyone I know got pretty excited to see em and how the art was doing. It also opened up the avenue for more open communication / more nuanced opinions or thoughts.

---

But herein lies the huge issue, I think, with communication. This is the part where I’d like to reiterate, this is just my observations, and is not intended as an attack, a vaguepost, or deliberate callout at anybody. There’s no malicious intent here. This bit could also be construed as drama I suppose, and I apologize for that because again - not the intent. Just my take.

I’ve noticed posts going ‘no drama please’ or being tired when new updates come out of like, ‘oh boy here comes the negativity’ so I don’t think it’s just me who’s seen it, but have you guys noticed when anything new comes out, there’s an immediate rush of extreme salt and negativity?

And I don’t mean posts where its like “it’s not for me” or “I don’t like it but here’s [detailed/explained reason why]” - those are the nuanced opinions I mean. Those are fine. I mean the ones where people in forums, or on the more prolific drama blogs, are just.... mean/empty? Like “FUCK staff I hate how lazy they are with this it’s shitty looking” - that really vocal generally super salty in general minority of the community. Just hate without explanation, or just kind of aimless generalized attack/complaint.

I think that’s where communication with Staff fell off the bandwagon. The really loud, really vocal minority of folks who throw super salt or yell “This Sucks You Suck” completely overshadow the people who are well intentioned with sharing their opinions or problems/criticisms. The toxic bits and really vitriolic words are what gets seen and noticed. I think this is the majority of what gets heard, which is why communication got so closed off / shut down unless positive, in recent times. Do I agree with that? No, I don’t either - but I’m just looking at this from the outside. Idk how staff feels or thinks.

And this goes for both people who don’t like the content, and people that do.

Remember that the Keel thread got locked because someone who was white-knighting started getting real nasty with people in the thread, and going to extremes insulting artists who did mock-ups to help visualize their thoughts/opinions and was just being a real douche?

What I really wish was that we could have more open communication. Some of the things I really liked to see were like: Dev Streams, Community Updates/Q&A, Opinion Polls, That Update Progress on Breed/Gene Progress from a while back. All of that was excellent. And I like to see the community responding in well thought out ways! I like to see staff more hands on too! We’re only human and love this site and our dragons and want to see it at it’s best - but they’re also only human, and make mistakes, and we don’t know what’s goin on in there, just out here.

Trello is a really good way to kind of show that communication, and is transparent, but isn’t free-to-use for businesses, so... of course I also don’t know how Stormlight Workshop runs their business/hours so I’m just blowing hot smoke. But anyway, I think everyone would benefit from slowing down and opening up. If things are going slow, that’s okay - if Staff opens up to the community and says “This is taking longer than expected, but here’s upcoming releases / current in-progresses” I think we’d be like oh okay things are happening and it’ll be nice! As compared to everyone gets super antsy, nothing’s happening, no-one is talking... and then we get hit with a bunch of updates, some of which, like today’s, have... issues.

Of course then I worry that with more open talking or “we’re experiencing delays” the more vitriolic will get even angrier/saltier which doesn’t... help... but I mean... yeah.

ANYWAY so I’ve written a full dissertation essay here without really intending to (see? I warned y’all! I ramble/don’t shut up ahahaha) so I’m gonna just stop myself here before I start going in circles. This last chunk I don’t really know what the meat of what I was trying to say was, now, I think. Sorry about that. It was just “here’s my stream of consciousness” apparently ^^;;;;

Have a good evening y’all! Thanks for listenin’ to my (rant?) if y’all made it this far. You’re appreciated and thank you for letting me bend your ears! Stay safe in this crazy world, hang in there, and have a good one!

#so i wrote a literal novel under the cut most of which can probably be ignored #but i do wanna say im not attacking the community in defense of staff #staff has made missteps and mistakes and doesn't handle some things the way they should #im just noting some things ive noticed that i feel like correlate #am i gonna make people really mad at me? oh probably #i hope not but idk #arti parties #update opinion #long post

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kaotikreviews · 4 years

Text

Art Reviews Attempts

I’ve kinda dabbled with drawing since I was a baby, but never once have I considered myself to be an artist. Even after spending hours on converting my Inktober19 sketches to digital art, that mindset hasn’t changed.

Drawing to me is something that is fun because I don’t take it too seriously. If it sucks and people hate it, it’s ok because I kinda hate it too. 😂

Throughout the years, there have been times when I got in a certain mood to just focus in and really really draw something, and after I’m done, even I, my most aggressive critic, love how it comes out. However, after finishing a piece that I am proud of (or anytime I feel like I’ve done a good job at something) - it feels like nothing I do next will ever live up to it, so why even try at all? 👀

The Inktober challenge pulled me out of a loop like that. I drew something I really like 4 years ago, and hadn’t tried drawing anything again until pretty much last year when a bunch of my coworkers started doing the Inktober challenge together. The challenge and the low expectations got me out of my head, and I focused on enjoying myself instead of trying to compete or chase perfection.

After Inktober, I was totally sick of drawing and started to resent my drawings for being so unskilled. I had these ideas in my head when I started drawing them, and I hadn’t been able to deliver them on pen and paper. I think that is my main issue with art and writing. What I put out doesn’t live up to the expectations in my head. I’m not skillful enough to deliver the details and vibrancy or emotion. And I’m too lazy to invest the time to truly set the scenes. But let’s return to my main point, pen and paper lacked the color and undo button I desperately needed in delivering the scenes in my head, so I decided I was gonna to take one of my sketches and create as closely as I could the scene I had imagined. It’s been months since and I still have so many more drawings to go, but it’s been so much fun!

Someone critiqued my redraws and said they preferred the originals pen sketches, and I’ll be the first to admit my digital art is... odd. But art is subject and I’m here to have fun.

Here is my first redraw:

https://www.instagram.com/p/B6EReu7BCtQ/?igshid=kdyowhcbarzx

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kc (@kaotik.sketchbook) on Dec 14, 2019 at 12:46pm PST

instagram

And here is the original (day 20):

https://www.facebook.com/kaotik.sketchbook/photos/a.103315897861486/103317977861278/?type=3

#artwork #my art #inktober #redraw #intober tread #Instagram

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badbookreviewclub · 4 years

Text

Empress Theresa, Chapters 3 & 4

If you haven’t read Chapter 2, here is the the link. I recommend reading through this and Chapter 1 first before continuing on for the sake of continuity. These WILL contain spoilers, so if you’re not cool with that, don’t read it.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 by far has to be one of the most boring chapters I’ve come across in this book. It took me forever to work through this chapter alone simply because of how boring I found the writing and the general story line of the chapter. Its sole purpose is to introduce a couple things, one being Theresa’s love interest, Steve, and how ‘interesting’ she is. Summary and Analysis: Theresa has finally moved on from her high school baseball career to attend Boston College, which Boutin, the author, constantly abbreviates to BC throughout this chapter. This abbreviation grows annoying rather quickly, considering that I don’t think the name of the college needs to be mentioned as often as it is. Aside from annoying abbreviations, this chapter is absolutely littered with a poor attempt to follow the story line Boutin seems to have loosely laid out throughout the book as well as piss poor logic. In chapter 3 we learn that Theresa is a whiny little bitch who thinks the amount of homework given to her is absurd despite the fact that there are plenty of college students out there who are handling it just fine. “The assignments I got in my classes seemed endless. Could anybody do all that work in a semester? (Pg 40)” This is Theresa’s first day of classes and she’s already getting upset over the amount of work she has to do. I don’t know about anybody else, but even with my higher level courses the amount of homework ramps up over the semester before the assignments become more manageable when finals start to draw near. Aside from complaining about her homework, we never even see Theresa do it once throughout the chapter. After her classes, rather than starting to work on this ‘endless’ amount of homework she has, Theresa relaxes in her room before a group of girls (I assume her roommates and not just random strangers - It’s never explicitly stated which one.) invite her down to the cafeteria. In the cafeteria, out of a “”long habit” Theresa started to look around the room. She notices pretty quickly that a group of ‘kids’ are staring at her. I tend to take issue with the fact that Boutin constantly refers to these college-aged adults as ‘kids’ simply because it throws you out of the story. Theresa wouldn’t refer to people the same age as her as ‘kids’ and the book is supposed to be written like an autobiography. Nonetheless, these ‘kids’ are staring at her and Theresa automatically picks two out to comment on in the book. “Mr. Intense,” who was looking at her intently, hence the name, and “Mr. Fast Move.” I have a slight problem with the name “Mr. Fast Move” simply because Theresa gave him this name before he even got up to introduce himself. Theresa somehow being omniscient is a problem through everything I’ve read up until this point and I’ve found it to be more and more annoying as I keep reading. Boutin also tends to have a really big problem with making Theresa assume the emotions and thoughts of other people. “One boy [Mr. Intense] was intently looking at me.... he was around six feet which was a good match for my five feet four inches. I liked taller guys and apparently he liked smaller girls (pg 40).” ‘Mr. Intense’ hasn’t even gotten up to talk with Theresa, nor will he for the next little while as far as I can tell. Yet, somehow, Theresa already knows his likes and dislikes and what he looks for in a potential partner. It doesn’t end there though, Theresa also goes on to continue and assume just what he is doing and thinking. “He wasn’t gawking at a pretty girl, or lusting for her body. He looked interested. And that’s ok. A girl gets used to being looked at (pg 40).” Aside from assuming what he’s thinking, there’s a lot of problems with this quote, enough so that I’m not sure where to being. Starting simple, I absolutely hate when authors write out ‘ok’ rather than ‘okay.’ It comes off as lazy to me. It only takes two more strokes of the key to add the ‘ay’ to the first two letters. Moving on to the next problem, Boutin never takes issue with the fact that someone may be looking at Theresa like an object, and Theresa never objects to that idea. She seems to be fine with the idea that someone is looking at her like an object or like a potential partner. Boutin never out right states that someone is looking at Theresa like an object as far as I’m aware, but it tends to be heavily implied throughout the book that Theresa is fine with that. Moving on from Theresa’s assumptions about ‘Mr. Intense’ for now though, ‘Mr. Fast Move’ obviously makes the first move. As stated early, Theresa gave him this name before he even got up to make the first move. She also keeps calling him this after he gives her his name, Jack Koster. To keep it short and sweet so you all don’t have to suffer as much, Theresa knows pretty soon into her and Jack dating that the two of them are not a good match and that their relationship won’t last. Yet, she continues to keep dating him and dragging him along. One day, when she goes down to his dorm because they have a movie at eight. Turns out, Jack has another girlfriend named Ginny from before college. Despite the fact that she knew her and Jack wouldn’t work out and was just dragging him along, Theresa still gets angry at him and wants to make him jealous. Jack says that he’ll talk to Theresa upstairs so she goes upstairs to wait for him. Before I go further, I just want to point out that Boutin wrote that there were six guys in Jack’s dorm waiting on him as well as Ginny. That’s a lot of people for a college dorm. Still chugging along, Theresa decides she wants to make Jack so jealous he’ll “throw Ginny out a window (pg 45).” Theresa says that there’s no chance that her and Jack will get back together, so I’m not quite sure what her logic is on this one. But she dresses in a “backless dress made of flimsy, cling material (pg 45).” The dress falls six inches above the knee, which “wasn’t a big deal these days, but to make it more interesting I folded back the hemline three more inches inside the skirt and taped it (pg 45).” I may just have short legs, but I measured how short this dress would be on myself, and this wasn’t even covering the bottom of my ass cheeks. Anyways, Theresa watches a movie which Boutin goes into way too much detail to describe and it’s just overly boring and pointless. Jack never shows up but surprise surprise, ‘Mr. Intense,’ better known as Steve at this point, does. At this point the dress has ridden up Theresa’s hips at this point and despite Steve’s clear discomfort with the whole dress situation, she makes no move to try and make it better even though he’s there to offer her comfort. We do get this banger of an exchange though (Pg 49): “You’re quite, Steve. Something on your mind?” “Yeah. I’m trying not to think about what I might see.” “I’m wearing a thong. You won’t see anything but my hip.” “And a nice hip it is, I’m sure.” Steve has had a total of maybe 5 words spoken up until this point but he’s already my favorite character solely from the line “And a nice hip it is, I’m sure.” Steve and Theresa’s relationship develops absurdly quickly from there and it’s almost at a worrying pace. After only about a month of dating, the two of them decide to get married. Father Donoughty, or as I lovingly refer to him, Father Dick Doughnut, convinces Theresa’s parents to let her marry Steve at the tender age of 18 and after only a month of dating because he is more than certain that their marriage won’t fail. Eventually her parents give in because “Discouraging it [the relationship] could do more harm than good (pg 54).” Theresa and Steve apparently have an absolutely amazing wedding and we get a lovely detailed description of what Theresa wore that I’m more than happy to share with all of you because it’s not in the slightest drawn out or excessive; “I was gorgeous as a recently turned eighteen year old. For the church service I wore a two piece wedding gown. A floor length wide skirt with spaghetti shoulder straps made from matte duchess stain. Over this I had a jacket made of peekaboo cotton Venice lace that more or less covered my shoulders and the top half of my upper arms so as not to scandalize the congregation. At the reception the jacket and train came off and my shoulders and cleavage charmed the crowd (pg 54).” This description just reminds me of the excessively long description of what Ebony was wearing in the all-time classic My Immortal. Nobody gives two shits just what Theresa was wearing and the comments about what she is wearing don’t even make sense. I don’t recall a congregation ever being ‘scandalized’ by a young woman having their shoulders exposed. I also don’t recall a crowd ever being ‘charmed’ by someones breasts and shoulders, or you know, I just live in a boring world where people don’t get dazzled by my boobs and my offensively sexy shoulders. As for the poor attempt for Boutin to continue the plot throughout chapter 3, in-between Theresa meeting Jake and then finding out about him cheating, Theresa is called into the campus police office because her ‘watchers’ were caught following her. Nothing really comes of this other than that we learn the Pope is paying for her tuition and finds her a ‘highly interesting’ case. The president also talks on the phone to the head of the campus police and tells them to pass along the message that they didn’t see anything happen, that they shouldn’t tell this to anybody, and that they should just forget about it. It’s a boring scene with boring dialogue and its rather pointless as well. If anything, it only serves to create more plot holes throughout the entire story. Chapter 4 So we got through the boring hell that was chapter 3, but what about chapter 4? It’s not better. Arguably it is so much worse. I can sum it up fairly simply for you. Theresa gets kidnapped by government men, she assumes they’re ‘Navy SEALS’ but calls them goons through the entire book. She’s then put on a plane with an atom bomb on it because I guess the president finally decided that he wanted her dead and yet nobody objected to this happening despite there being no evidence for her deserving this fate. Also her watchers just disappear in this chapter so I guess their presence in her life was just completely pointless. This may come as a surprise, but Theresa manages to get out with the stupidest solution ever and doesn’t die. This is the part where I should be celebrating her survival but all I can do is mourn the fact that she could have died but didn’t. If she did, the book would be over. Summary and Analysis: God, I really don’t want to summarize this chapter and point out things I hated in it but I will. This chapter was so overwhelmingly painful to read and mark down that I gave up towards the end and just started scribbling ‘No’ and ‘Why’ into the margins. Okay, rant over. Starting off, Theresa is on her way to go to the grocery store when a bunch of cars in front of her essentially make a barricade so she can’t get through. The people in the cars get out with their weapons drawn as a van pulls up behind her. Once more, Theresa’s omniscient knowledge kicks in and before the door to the van opens she already knows what the interior looks like. She gets into the van anyways without much of a fight and just willingly lets herself be kidnapped. They take her to a helicopter and fly for a long ass time. Eventually Theresa asks where they’re taking her and rather than telling her that it is classified information like they should, they basically tell Theresa that they’re taking her to an aircraft and that she’ll be killed. Rather than getting upset about this, the tears just well up in her eyes but she doesn’t break down into hysterics. As Theresa so eloquently puts it, “But I didn’t cry. I wasn’t a phony movie actress using hysterics to milk all the drama she could out of every moment. I was a real person and I didn’t give a damn what these kidnappers thought (pgs 57-58).” Theresa once more assumes emotions, and states that she must have impressed her kidnappers and won their admiration by not breaking down into hysterics. This is where she also guesses that they’re Navy SEAL despite having absolutely no proof of them being in that part of the army as of yet. Blah blah blah, Theresa decides to ‘wax poetic’ though she’s not being poetic at all and it’s just Boutin trying to fill in space so he can make his book longer. Somehow this chapter is even more boring and annoying than chapter 3 and shit is supposed to be happening here. I suppose Boutin is trying to make it intense, but it comes off as long winded and any sense of action of anxiety that may have been there is gone. In-between the long and boring moments of Theresa just observing things, she asks how she’s going to die and they tell her that she’s going to be loaded onto a plane with an atomic bomb. This is a problem for a lot of reasons, actually, and I’ll put them in a list for you: 1. This is a stupidly expensive way to kill someone 2. Theresa never stood trial for this and its not as thought it could have flown under the radar either. There is a shit ton of money being funneled into an atomic bomb and a plane that wouldn’t go unnoticed in the records. 3. Theresa’s watchers never showed up once despite having watched her grow up and seeing that she would never harm a fly. Yet here she has been declared a danger to national security. 4. All of the men who are escorting her to her death have no proof that she has done anything to be a threat to national security. As far as they’re aware, she’s an innocent eighteen year old girl. 5. The way that they’re going to kill her is cruel, inhumane, and excessive. Never in my life could I see anyone letting a president get away with ordering a death sentence like this. 6. Theresa never fucking stood trial for this shit. This wouldn’t just fly under the radar with congress. Believe it or not, but the President of the United States doesn’t have enough power to just order someone dead because they believe them to be a threat. Theresa would have to go through a trial first. I could see a coup happening in the United States before anyone ever let anything like this happen. These tend to be my problems with a majority of the chapter. To get into more specifics, Theresa says that she needs to think of a way to get out of this, but we never see her elaborate on a plan nor do we ever become clued in that she has come up with an idea. Instead, we, the reader, see her do some nonsensical bullshit. When they take her to an empty cafeteria to have her last meal, Theresa takes an empty garbage bag and fills it with exactly 11 coke bottles that at the time confused the living shit out of me. As it turns out, she’s going to empty out these coke bottles and shove them into her jumpsuit so she’ll be buoyant when she jumps from the plane before it can blow her up. This is some kind of bullshit five-minute crafts solution. It’s a stupid one and never in a million years could I ever see this working. Theresa also decides to reflect on her life and comes to the conclusion that her life as not significant and was incredibly boring. How wonderful for that the reader has to reader that when we could have come to that conclusion ourselves. We also learn that Theresa has had ‘no illnesses’ which seems like utter bullshit to me, but alright, go off Boutin. She also had a ‘mean’ dog growl at her once and suddenly she now has absolutely no love for dogs. I’ll let you interpret that one however you want. The night before she’s going to be executed, Theresa decides to reflect on her life thus far with Steve. This could have been a bittersweet moment where we truly get something emotion filled and with fond memories that we didn’t see. It’s not a bad idea to have her reflect on her loved one during what should be a very emotional time, yet all we do is get a recap of his experience with her last chapter. It’s boring and inspires no emotion from the reader. We could have learned something about Steve and how Theresa sees him and yet we don’t learn anything. What we do learn however, is that Theresa somehow has shit tons of knowledge about aircraft despite this never being mentioned before in the book. I don’t think she actually is supposed to be an aircraft nerd, I think that Boutin just forgot about that and started to write far too much that he learned about planes so he could share the information with everyone. It’s more confusing than not in the actual text though and draws away from the story, not that there was much to begin with. Also, somehow, refueling in flight will snap your neck if you don’t brace right according to Boutin. I did some light research and no, no it will not. Despite this, Boutin goes on for about two pages about how Theresa has to brace so it doesn’t snap her neck when they refuel mid-flight on their way to take her another boat so she can get on the plane with the bomb on it. Jesus christ the next few pages are just absolute hell. Theresa lands on boat. Captain of boat brought women onto top of boat. Thought the one being executed would be man and deserved to see women before he died. Strongly implies women are objects for men to look at again. One woman takes out her phone. She asks Theresa if she has anything she’d like to say. Dis bitch. Dis. fuckin. bitch. “I once read a famous quote by the Shawnee Indian Chief Tecumseh about singing a death song and going out like a hero. I had rewritten it for a more universal use, never dreaming that I’d use it myself so soon. ‘If people grieve your passing rejoice in the good you did and die like a hero going home. I feel good about who I was.’ (pg 68)” Not only is pulling your phone out to record someone who is about to be executed highly against probably all policies, but also, just... fuckin... if this situation were to ever happen in real life, this would be an absolute shit show of a situation. People are breaking rules left and right, nobody is obeying any sort of code of ethics or any kind of rules that were laid out for them. It’s just stupid. All of this chapter is just plain stupid and the logic is terrible. One of the people gives Theresa thermals because it’s going to be cold when she’s flying up and they insist that she gets oxygen and wears a mask. They do all of this for her despite the fact that in the end she’s going to get blown up and none of it matters. Nothing fucking matters in this book. After this though Theresa fucking jumps from the plane once it has taken off and is at an altitude of 54,140. The impact on the water alone would have been enough to kill her and yet it doesn’t. She just passes out when she hits in and then wakes back up. Now is when she starts to get cold and she passes out again. The entire time that the plane is climbing into the air and she’s falling before she hits the water is supposed to be an intense and action-packed scene. I get that’s what Boutin is trying to do in this last part of the chapter, but it doesn’t come across that way. It’s dragged out. It’s wordy and Theresa thinks way too much about other things for it to feel like it is supposed to be as intense as I think Boutin wanted it to be. It’s poorly written to put it simply, which really sucks because it’s the climax of the entire chapter and the most intense moment out of anything leading up to this point. End Alright that is the end of chapter 3 and 4. I don’t know when 5 to whatever chapter I decide is worth it will come out, but hopefully sooner rather than later so I can finish with this book. Chances are I’ll post a review for a different book in-between this one and the next so look out for that. I’ve got a few absolutely terrible books on their way that I’ll be receiving over the next month. The first one out of the batch I plan to review is someone’s fan fiction that they decided to publish called Insanity: Jeff the Killer simply because it’s 77 pages and after flipping through it, it’s already better than some of the shit I’ve read lately. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please feel free to follow and look out for more reviews of books. I hope I’m actually getting better at this review thing! Please feel free to leave any feedback and things you would like!

#empress theresa #chapter 3 #chapter 4 #bad book #bad book review #review #this was hell #someone please kill me #when will it end

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xiezuo · 5 years

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Yesung A-Z NSFW please 👀 thank you!

Ok so y’all don’t even know what this man does to me and tbh I don’t even understand it myself it’s just- you know the feeling when you love someone so much your heart starts pounding so hard it makes it hard for you to breathe ? Yeah that’s what Yesung does to me and… I can’t even complain I love him too much hfgusduhahgkvuh anyways on to the request~

Masterpost | Rules | WIPs

A — Aftercare

Yesung’s aftercare usually entails to him embracing you and holding you tightly against him, as if he were scared you’d go away. Lazy kisses, with him cupping your face in his hands; kisses on the top of your head or your forehead as you nestle against his chest or bury your face in the crook of his neck; lightly pets your hair, murmuring “I love you”s and promises of a bright future. He hates parting from you after such an intimate moment, so unless you ask him to get you something (in which he’ll jump off the bed — after pressing a kiss on your forehead — and run to get you whatever you asked for), he’ll stay with you, as close to your body as humanly possible.

B — Body Part

Hm. It’s hard to say what Yesung likes best about himself, mostly because he’s probably criticized every single part of his body (poor baby has low self-esteem when he shouldn’t and it makes me so sad :() and said he doesn’t like it, but I mean the man also takes like 46578239654879326 selfies of himself a day so… I really don’t know lol. And he has abs now and I’m pretty sure he’s proud of those but that’s not the point His favourite part on you is… everything lmao he can’t pick. For real. He’s so whipped he can’t choose because you’re perfect to him, but he’s especially weak for your smile; it’s all he ever wants to see from you. And he’ll try his hardest to make you smile everyday.

C — Cum

He has a thing for watching his cum drip out of you after he came inside, which he does quite often for this very reason. It makes him feel proud of himself but also gives him a sense of possessiveness over you, as if it’s his way to claim you and make sure you know you’re his — Yesung can be very possessive in bed, even though in everyday life he’s pretty chill.

D — Dirty Secret

Listen imma expose myself here but ever since I had that dream where Yesung sat on a chair next to the bed and made Donghae fuck me while telling him what to do as a way to prove me he was the only one who could fuck me right… I can’t get it out of my head man. So I think that’s his dirty secret. He fantasizes about it a lot but he never tells you out loud because he’s scared it’s going to freak you out and make your relationship awkward as a result of bringing it up. He doesn’t want you to think he’s a deviant or something of the sort.

E — Experience

So. I don’t think Yesung is a virgin. At all. But I also don’t think he has much experience. He’s had girlfriends in the past (one that cheated on him like 5 times what the fuck even— I’m getting sidetracked) so I’m pretty sure he has had sex before. Also, he’s a grown man. Despite the lack of experience, he still knows what he’s doing. And because your pleasure is very important to him, he’ll put everything into learning what you like and how to have you begging for more.

F — Favourite Position

Yesung cherishes intimacy, and his passion and love for you comes out stronger than ever when you two are having sex. He’s looking for that connection, so he prefers to go for positions that allow him to look you in the eye and make it easy for him to kiss you. He has a thing for holding your hands when he’s feeling particularly determined to make you feel how much he loves you.

G — Goofy

Yesung is more serious than anything else during the actual act, but there’s always a bit of playful banter with lots of underlining sexual meanings that leads to you two having sex, so I’d say he’s both depending on the mood. If he feels like teasing you, then he’ll take things more lightheartedly and fool around, but if he’s feeling needy or if he missed you then he’ll be a lot more serious and focused on what he’s doing.

H — Hair

That is a good question. I don’t think he takes the time to shave regularly, mostly because he’s not very hairy to begin with, so he doesn’t need to. He trims it when he feels like it’s getting to wild but he never goes full bald. He’s a “eh” kind of guy when it comes to it; he doesn’t really care all that much about things like this, and the same applies for you.

I — Intimacy

I think it’s obvious what my opinion on this is given what I’ve said in earlier points — intimacy is everything to Yesung. It’s important to him that his love and passion for you can be felt through every single one of his actions. It makes the experience all the more intense, because he’s not only focused on one part of your body; his hands explore every curve, sometimes leaving marks when pleasure builds up and his grip tightens, and his lips are always connected to your skin, sucking and biting, marking you even more. He wants to let you know that not only is every part of you perfect to him, you also belong to him.

J — Jack Off

Not gonna lie, I’m pretty sure Yesung jerks off quite often; sometimes it’s to release pent up sexual frustration, which usually happens when he’s away from you for too long, and sometimes it’s just to relieve some tension when it gets bad and nothing else works. When you’re around, however, it’s very rare that he does anything. It still happens, just less often.

K — Kink

Ok, so. I don’t think Yesung is that kinky (that’s very rich coming from someone who said earlier that he’d make a man fuck you while he watches just to prove a point bUT BEAR WITH ME). He’s definitely a top, for sure, and he likes to be the one in control — I honestly can’t see him surrender control to you; it’s something that would make him very uncomfortable. His biggest kink is most probably edging. He likes to push you to the very edge and when he feels like you’re about to cum, he’d stop all movement, wait for you to come down begging, and then press the tip of his cock against your G-spot just to torture you.

L — Location

Ideally, Yesung prefers to have sex on a bed, mostly because he wants you to be comfortable and not have to bend over in difficult positions that are hard to maintain without causing strain or harm. Next up is the couch, if foreplay starts there or close by and you’re both too desperate and needy to bother walking into the bedroom.

M — Motivation

His love for you and his drive to make you feel it is his biggest motivation, to be honest. It’s the reason he wants to have sex with you in the first place. His love turns him on, it’s just a thing. Actually, I think it’s very hard to “trigger” his arousal to the point where he can’t control himself and needs to fuck you right then and there. He’s very composed, and if you’re to, let’s say, tease him in public while out for dinner with friends or family, you can very well shove your hand down his pants under the table and jerk him off and he’ll keep a completely straight face and act like nothing’s happening. He won’t even attempt to stop you, but be prepared to be on the receiving end of his anger once you two are alone which… honestly always leads to you having angry sex on any surface he can find once you get home (and he probably won’t allow you to cum at all as punishment, just saying).

N — No

Spanking. Doesn’t like it, doesn’t see the point of it, just isn’t interested in doing it. If he wants to punish you for something, he’ll find other ways, some that can be even more painful than hitting you. He’s also not a fan of degradation — he’d feel really bad about humiliating you, even if you tell him you’re into it. The closest he’d get to that is to tease you about how needy or desperate you are for him, as in something like “you’ve got such a filthy mouth for someone who looks so innocent; you naughty, naughty girl”, but that’s about it.

O — Oral

Yesung is definitely more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. He prefers to finger you rather than go down on you, mostly because I don’t think he has much experience when it comes to it, but he’ll still do it from time to time, just on special occasions rather than a casual thing. However, he usually won’t expect you to do it and won’t even ask, unless it’s angry sex — then he’s going to ask in a way that gives you no choice but to comply (not that you’d complain about it in the first place).

P — Pace

Yesung’s pace is definitely slower, but his thrusts are really harsh, and they go very deep. He likes taking his time building up to your orgasm, and draws it out. It also gives him more time to explore your body, adding to the intensity and the overwhelming emotions he makes you feel. So, he’s slow, but he slams into you with all the strength he has with each thrust.

Q — Quickie

He honestly prefers taking his time with you, but quickies do happen. Especially at the beginning of the relationship, where you’re both experimenting and getting to know the other and how they react to different things. Quickies mostly happen in places where there’s a chance of getting caught, like backstage before a show (a classic).

R — Risk

Yesung honestly doesn’t really mind having sex in risky places. Like I said in the previous point, sex in semi-public areas like backstage changing rooms or public bathrooms if they’re singles (like, not the ones with the stalls, ones where you only have one toilet and a door that can be locked), it just not happens very often. It’s not a thing that necessarily gets him going; he just doesn’t really mind it. It’s more a thing that occurs when he’s really really desperate and can’t hold back anymore.

S — Stamina

Yesung can last a long time; you can usually cum at least twice before he even feels his orgasm build up, but it takes him a very long time to recover to the point where he’s up and ready for a second round. You can easily fall asleep before that happens. I can only see multiple rounds happening if it’s been a really long time since he’s seen you and you two haven’t done anything; then, a lazy make out session after sex later and he’s ready to go again. But it only happens in this specific scenario.

T — Toy

He doesn’t own any, unless a tie he sometimes uses to bind your wrists together when he’s feeling kinky one night counts as a toy. He doesn’t like using them on you because he feels like it’s just a lazy way to get you worked up and make you cum; he’d much rather do it himself.

U — Unfair

Biiiiiiitch. You’ve just entered Yesung territory. Like I said earlier, edging and teasing is his thing, and he knows what he’s doing. He loves seeing you worked up, and he feels very proud when he drives you to the point of begging; it’s proof that you want him, that you need him, and there’s no better compliment to him than that. How unfair he is depends on his mood. If he intends on making love to you, then he’ll be merciful, and give you what you need after you ask nicely. If he’s in a playful mood, then he’ll drag it until you’re about to go crazy and continuously beg him, and even then, he might push it just a little further just because he can. If he’s angry or feeling possessive, then he’ll have absolutely no mercy, and he’s going to be the sole decision maker in when he decides to let you cum, no matter how much you beg.

V — Volume

He’s very vocal in bed, always whispering in your ear, both loving words and dirty things. However, he’s not loud at all; the sounds that come from him are usually groans he can’t contain and heavy breathing. And, of course, because he’s, you know, Yesung, expect a lot of curses coming from him.

W — Wild Card

When you introduce him to the idea of cockwarming, he’s very confused at first, but after you try it, he finds that he really, really likes it. From then on, it becomes a sort of habit after you two have sex to just cuddle up to each other with his cock buried inside of you at least for a little while as you both catch your breath.

X — X-Ray

Yeah, I’m— I’m just gonna use the picture of him that… honestly haunts me at night. It should speak for itself. You’re welcome.

Y — Yearning

Yesung’s libido is very high, but it often doesn’t look like it because he’s very good at hiding any signs of arousal. He doesn’t shift in place, he doesn’t get flustered, his face doesn’t turn red, he can still focus on whatever he’s doing very well and he doesn’t stutter either. He’s learned to control it over the years and he takes out the tension by beating Hyukjae’s ass lmao I’m just kidding… or am I ?

Z — Zzz

Yesung makes it a point to fall asleep after you do, but he gets really drowsy after he recovers from the afterglow. You’ll hear him yawn and see him rub his eyes from time to time, trying to chase the sleep away because he feels like it’s his duty to watch over you until you fall asleep so you feel safe and protected.

#yesung #kim jongwoon #kim jonghoon #super junior #super junior scenario #super junior imagine #yesung scenario #yesung imagine #kim jongwoon scenario #kim jongwoon imagine #kim jonghoon scenario #kim jonghoon imagine #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #suju

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prettysoldierprojectarchive · 4 years

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1:4 – Usagi Will Teach You How To Lose Weight!

[Original Post 19/08/2013]

Alternative Title: Body Issues? LOSE WEIGHT, SAILOR FATTY

First aired: 28th March 1992

Usagi is suffering from severe body dysmorphic disorder. Despite being obviously perfect (physically at least – her brain is another issue), she’s become obsessed her weight. Like most women, she is subject to the unrealistic and harmful expectations of feminine beauty in society. Usagi’s family attempt to help her overcome her imagined weight issues by calling her fat. Upon the advice of her classmates, she visits a brand new totally-not-evil gym. Little does she know Jadeite is now trying to sell his brand new not-evil P90X workout, which is TOTALLY EVIL. How dare you take advantage of women’s image problems, Jadeite!?

The episode opens well enough – Usagi in a bath towel. This is probably the most overtly sexualised Usagi has been up to this point in the series and you know what? It’s a little more awkward now that I’m older and wiser and in my mid-20s. It becomes even more awkward when Usagi has to be given a “talk” in the dining room after she’s worried that she’s fat.

You know what her family says to her? “You’re chubby, but that’s OK” – what a lovely sentiment! Things quickly turn sour when they discuss why she’s so fat – all the eating, they suggest – and poor Usagi is left feeling like a goddamn hippo. It’s not nice.

Great parenting, guys. Really top-notch work here. This is totally normal behaviour

Luna doesn’t help the 14-year-old’s image problems. Although she normally takes the role of guiding-mother, in this episode she frequently reduces Usagi to tears by commenting on how fat she is..

Wow. This episode is a little messed up. Body image problems were becoming a major issue for the health of women, and this episode was obviously trying to discuss the issue. Unfortunately they do this by making everyone fucking crazy, even for Japanese people. It must be an early 90s thing. It’s just not that fun.

Not pictured: a balanced psyche

Aside from the uncomfortable subject matter, the episode was written and drawn by the crappy studio. I’ve decided to give the 3 distinct studios involved in the making of Sailor Moon names, just for parsimony.

1) A-Grade Studio: These guys do the important stories with the best writing, and their episodes are just gorgeous.

2) B-Grade Studio: These episodes are well written on the whole, but the drawing style is obviously different. Not totally bad, but characters tend to look a lot more hastily drawn and a little squished.

3) Ass-Grade Studio: Some animations are only 2 or 3 frames, faces look flat and sharp and the writing BLOWS. This episode is the archetype for this.

“Hey, Yoshi, your shitty 4-year-old slipped a drawing into the episode again”

ANYWAY. Back to the episode. Usagi and Naru are discussing their non-existent weight issues with 2 classmates I don’t think we’ll ever see again. Let’s call them Kermit and Miss Piggy. I think this scene attempts to vocalise the self-conscious worries of teenage girls, but things quickly become sidetracked as Miss Piggy goes on about pineapple and Kermit rambles on about how nice it would be if love made you lose weight.

Yeah, keep dreaming Froggy. Maybe you’ll burn some calories off your brain.

Hey guys, guess what? Miss Sakurada has totally gotten thin by going to this new gym, and Umino has pervert pics to prove it. The eeriest thing about these pictures is not that Umino took them, or that Sakurada clearly didn’t need to lose weight, but that she’s clearly looking into the camera and smiling in one of the photos. Maybe 14-year-old losers with behavioral issues gets her off. Oop, just made myself barf in my mouth a little.

“OK Umino, hand over the roofies and no one has to die”

The girls decide to visit the same gym, in which Jadeite is posing as a fitness instructor called Jed (BRILLIANT!). After a poorly-drawn work out featuring large beefy men instructing little girls in tight bloomers how to sweat more, Usagi decides to get the hell away from Jed’s evil workout regime, opting instead for a nice jacuzzi. Clever girl! It’s this laziness that saves her from the fate that awaits her friends – energy sucking pods in the basement!

“Don’t worry, these ominous condom-pods definitely won’t kill you”

Quite frankly these pods are amazing. Apparently the pre-cursor state of the “Energy” that Queen Beryl loves so much is human fat. If she’s willing to give me a free liposuction, then I really don’t see the problem of donating a few pounds to the Dark Kingdom.

Unfortunately the pods are killing Ms Sakurada and Usagi’s classmates – they’re too thin! Ahh the evils of self-improvement! The real shame is that if Jadeite took only a bit of energy and kept his shit on the down-low, he’d be a billionaire.

“Billionaire? Do you know how many purple-tinted glasses for that!?”

Usagi, meanwhile, hits rock bottom after drooling after a small child’s dumpling, scaring him so that he runs off crying. She’s so hungry that stupid-lame Motoki has to revive her after she faints. Motoki reveals himself as a perverted feeder who gets off on fat chicks, and Usagi is happy to eat again!

“I find childhood obesity hilariously attractive. Eat this dumpling.”

…Until the mysterious handsome awesome stranger calls her fat. And then Luna calls her fat. And she goes all diet-crazy AGAIN. This episode is all over the place. Actually this whole middle section is rather fun.

Usagi goes exercise-mad in the evil gym, freaking people out with her zeal. She only comes to her senses after Luna threatens to slice her face to shit – her one weakness! – and finally transforms into Sailor Moon.

“Bitch I will cut yo’ face unless you Moon Prism Power right now.”

The final fight is noteworthy for one reason – the big beefy gym instructors have been brainwashed and attack Sailor Moon when she tries to destroy the miracle thinning pods in the basement, and our heroine must kick the living snot out of them with her bare fists, all the while counting how many calories she’s losing. It’s really rather cool, or at least it would be if the animation wasn’t so crappy. Cheers, Ass-Grade Studio!

The episode ends with Usagi’s little brother Shingo playing a trick on her, leading her to believe she’s gained 300 pounds, and she succumbs to a self-destructive eating disorder. That’s a pretty good joke, Shingo.

Episode Score: 2/5 (It’s pretty bad, you guys.)

Monster Freakishness Level: 0/5 (Eating disorders are the real monsters)

Naru-chan Attack Count: 3 (That girl needs to start carrying a gun or something)

#Sailor Moon #anime #90s #Episode 4 #004 #S01E04 #1992 #cw #eating #food #exercise #fat shaming #body dysmorphia #season 1

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anhed-nia · 4 years

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10/18/2020: STREET TRASH

I just caught myself trying to avoid writing about this movie. I was looking right at my Blogtober setlist, and I still managed to convince myself that I was all caught up, and I had earned my right to move on to the comparative luxury and ease of CATHY'S CURSE. I was well into that project before I realized that I was just subconsciously trying to shirk my 10/18 responsibilities. So, now I'm on punishment, but luckily, just trying to deal with this film is enough punishment in and of itself, if you are not one of this movie’s many passionate fans. I always feel like I'm making a big confession, even to myself, when I admit that I just don't like STREET TRASH.

For some reason, my failure to get down with this movie always makes me feel like a prude and a poseur. It's such a Thing for so many people, and such a grandiose act of rebellion against decency that I feel like I should like it. And I mean, I'm no prude; I'm a fan of a lot of movies that are fairly described as a bunch of sleazy, nihilistic, rage-fueled nonsense. When I try to say what I don't like about STREET TRASH, I find myself delivering a list of problems that is almost identical to the list of reasons I do like a lot of other movies: it's ugly, mean, tacky, offensive, depressingly cheap, grim, anti-social bordering on evil, and on top of everything else, it doesn't really make any sense. It's a little hard for me to explain where and why I draw the line between STREET TRASH and beloved favorites like LAST HOUSE ON DEAD END STREET, ISLAND OF DEATH, BEYOND THE DARKNESS, or EBOLA SYNDROME (ok so EBOLA SYNDROME isn't actually one of my favorite movies, but I definitely admire its...er, guts). My aversion to Troma movies--another thing that makes me feel like a stranger in a strange land--might help inform some of what I don't like about STREET TRASH. There's a way in which a willfully offensive movie can seem to cross over from being contemptuous of society, to contemptuous of its own audience, and that's what bothers me: Troma's insistence on its own laziness and prurience, accusing the viewer of getting off on failure and inferiority, and garnishing its pridefully crappy production with shitty jokes about smearing queers and killing whores. But, while STREET TRASH has a similar brand of extremely shallow nihilism, much of it is meticulously put-together, which is usually a movie's saving grace--not that it's expensive and beautiful, but that it is made with evident passion. Which is exactly why this movie is such a confusing experience for me.

Maybe I can find some further clarity by attempting to describe what the plot consists of. A Brooklyn liquor store owner finds a case of ancient malt liquor called Tenafly Viper in his basement that, for some reason, causes anyone who drinks it to melt down into human sewage and/or explode. Just when it seems like the mysterious action and origin of Viper will be at the center of the plot--after all, it is STREET TRASH's main claim to fame--we drift into the dour drama between a pair of young homeless brothers, Freddie and Kevin, living in a shack in the back of a junkyard. These guys are relatively wholesome compared to the surrounding encampment, where the absolute dregs of humanity exist in a HILLS HAVE EYES-like fiefdom under a deranged Vietnam vet. Their collective troubles begin when Freddy brings home a blind-drunk mafia moll, who is subsequently raped to death by the other hobos. This brings the heat down on the whole camp, as a violent cop tries to find the connection between the derelicts, the mob, and the melting corpses sloshing around in the streets. The results are, needless to say, a mess.

STREET TRASH is relentlessly hostile to all forms of life, salting its own festering wounds with a dash of brutally unfunny comedy. Writer and producer Roy Frumkes has said of his script, "I wrote it to democratically offend every group on the planet, and as a result the youth market embraced it as a renegade work, and it played midnight shows." It’s hard for me to imagine what form of pleasure people derive from this film, but as Frumkes correctly notes, it does exist. The utterly debased narrative and its many scatological set pieces go so far above and beyond the call of flipping the bird to society, seething with bitterness and loathing in every frame, that one could wonder if the filmmakers weren't clinically depressed. The noxious brew of rape jokes, casual racism, miserable 'Nam flashbacks, and full-body incontinence foments such entirely bad vibes that you might feel like flushing yourself down the toilet by the end, just like the first victim does in the movie's admittedly spectacular opening salvo.

But th brings me to my point: STREET TRASH is not just a bad movie made poorly. The execution of its signature scene, an elaborate splatterpunk version of the once-popular Goodbye Cruel World novelty knickknacks, is a genuine labor of love, monstrously creative, and one of the most indelible images in horror. If that's my favorite thing in the movie (besides an all too short appearance of the wonderful James Lorinz), my least favorite thing might be its second-most notorious scene, in which the junkyard’s demented denizens play football with a guy's severed cock--but as I just read, even this sequence is rendered with some amount of thoughtfulness. Apparently three separate dildos were used to pull off the gag, including an extra large version that was required for the shots of the dick hurtling through the air in slow motion, warping and wobbling as it soars towards its next receiver. I am strangely beguiled by the idea of director Jim Muro experimenting with how to shoot this scrimmage for maximum effect, choosing dongs that were the right size and weight for the type of motion that he wanted to capture on camera. This shows a decided lack of the kind of laziness that I have come to expect from movies that are this grimy and dejected-feeling. A too-long genital mutilation joke is the last thing I want to give anyone credit for, but here, I feel kind of forced to.

A hot bondage scene with Doctor Jersey Boy!

Why did I put myself through this, you might ask, clearly knowing what I was in for? STREET TRASH is in a small group of movies that make me feel like I'm missing something. They're so well-loved, and they do so little for me--without my being able to completely denounce them as worthless--that I feel this nagging obligation to check in on them now and again. Maybe this is the year that my horizons have expanded to the right degree; maybe I've finally seen a vast enough number and variety of movies that my whole context for something like this will have changed. For the most part, it seems like the days of that kind of radical change are behind me, as a grownass woman with many thousands of hours of viewing under my belt. I still don't feel whatever specialized joy people seem to get from STREET TRASH, and I expect I never will. I really don’t know what else to say at this point, except that in my brief research for this piece, I discovered that the director went on to a substantial career as a cinematographer whose work includes CRASH. No, not the Cronenberg one. The incredibly sappy, pretentious, and witlessly tasteless social justice one from 2004. And there is something I find perversely satisfying about that fact. I guess Muro is really fucking things up from the inside now.

#blogtober #2020 #street trash #j michael muro #jim muro #roy frumkes #melt movie #body horror #splatterpunk #horror #goodbye cruel world #splatter #gore #james lorinz

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