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pb-dot · 10 months

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The Things I really loved in Spider-Verse

Or: I feel like an asshole for ragging on a movie that I for the most part enjoyed a lot.

So, as mentioned in my less-than-glowing review, there are several things that I loved in Across The Spider-Verse that my frustration with the story kind of overshadowed. One thing, in particular, I was very impressed with was the character writing. Across, somehow, keeps the main character count roughly equivalent to Into, but the sheer finesse shown in the writing of the side characters upgrade them from cameos and gaffs to actually really cool characters in my opinion. More gushing under the cut.

First up is the villain Spot. At first, the joke about this walking Inciting Incident seems to be that he's so desperate to be Miles' Nemesis, despite getting no traction and being a profoundly pathetic villain in the process. The fact that he arguably caused Spider Miles' entire existence doesn't help, he reads like one of those current-era retcons that try to make a villain intimidating by revealing he was secretly behind everything, despite this not at all lining up with earlier movies. Looking at you, Spectre.

Then, something happens. It's not a dramatic shift or anything, but little by little the dogged determination and seething hatred for Miles that drives Spot starts to crowd out the awkwardness, and the shift is matched by his animation getting messier (in a good way) until he is this plainly inhuman extradimensional being driven by his seething hatred for our dear Morales, animated like some kind of mixture between an art film's animated depiction of severe mental illness and a late-season villain in a mech anime. Like several of the characters I'm going to talk about today, it's a shame he's not in the movie more, but given the bisected nature of the narrative, I suppose that's to be expected.

Next up to bat is Hobie and holy fuck did I not see Hobie coming. Oh, make no mistake, I knew his general deal and that he's pretty cool after all I am on Tumblr and possess a pair of mostly functional eyes, but I was not prepared for just how cool this guy is. It's not just a style thing, although his delightfully off-beat animation and Daniel Kaluya being the most British I've ever heard him, or anyone else, be, are incredibly cool to experience.

No, Hobie's strongest point is, at least for me, his convictions and how he acts on them. It is, perhaps, not a huge challenge to be the most nuanced take on punk in popular media, but the sheer panache with which Hobie pulls it off is astounding. Yes, he is a contrarian, he vandalizes stuff, and he's a bit of a shit-stirrer by nature, but that isn't all he is. In fact, if I may engage in some character interpretation, I'd suggest that all of this is a smokescreen, meant to distract from what Hobie actually is doing, which is trying to infiltrate and subvert an unjust power structure that is causing real tangible harm. If there's anything more punk than that that you could conceivably get into a mainstream movie, I don't know what is.

Look no further than how he interacts with Miles when they're alone. He nicks a bunch of stuff and acts kind of "too good to be on the team," sure, but the stuff he steals, I think can be safely assumed, are parts he needs for his bootleg dimension bracelets, and his reservations he talks about make an awful lot of sense in the context of the reveals that the Spider-Society is basically an autocratic misery machine unilaterally steered by the deeply wounded Miguel. You can also see it in the way he circumvents the entire morality discussion around what to do with Miles by letting Miles know how to break out and make up his own damn mind.

Schlubby dadbod Spider-Man Peter B Parker is perhaps a bit less of a standout than he was in Into, but he still makes for a compelling character. For a fair bit of the start, I wonder what sort of plot malarkey had Mr. Joke The Pain Away team up with Miguel, perhaps the only Spiderperson to be less about fun than Spider-Noir, but as it progressed, it painted a pretty nuanced picture. Miguel is an absolute world-class stick in the mud in addition to his other traits, but as a fresh father, I get the feeling Peter B is especially sensitive to his "lost my daughter twice over" backstory. It is also possible, although there's that insidious character interpretation thing again, that he feels like he can be a moderating influence on Miguel and perhaps curb his most intense edgyboy impulses, a dream that shatters about the time Miguel attempts to break through the spiderporter with sheer primal rage. He has not helped, he has been an enabler.

I've talked indirectly about Miguel a fair bit so far, and while I wouldn't count myself a fan, he is too emotionally distant as the uncompromising leader and entirely too driven by raw emotion as the dogged pursuer to be super interesting to me, but I do like the effect he has on the plot. Miguel operates on a mix of Comic Book Guy trope obsession and the very boomer "If I've suffered in my past, similar or greater suffering is mandatory," and he does so with such dogged zeal that he kind of bends the plot space-time around him. His conviction that Things Are Worth Doing Because They're Hard to Do And Feel Bad is such that even fairly reasonable spiderpeople like Gwen and Peter B end up doing his bidding.

Gwen operates in a bit of an awkward space in this movie, as the intro and outro seem to cast her as the protagonist, which is out of sync with the literal entire rest of the movie revolving around Miles. It's a shame though, because Gwen is very good in this. While her role in Into was more to be the "kinda too cool for this" Spiderperson Miles can, and should, get to be, her journey through the "actually being a spiderperson feels pretty bad"-wash cycle is compelling. If the story was more about Gwen realizing she's letting her hurt take her to a bad place, I would not mind it one bit. Left as a subplot it still works, but so dearly wanted to see it truly blossom.

So in short, I really liked the character writing in Across The Spider-Verse and I am a little sad most of my favorites didn't get as much screentime as they perhaps should, but I do hope they get their moment in the sun in the sequel. Also, a brief shoutout to Earth 42 Uncle Aron for being both scarier and somehow more sympathetic in his few minutes on screen than Miguel manages for the entire movie.

#across the spiderverse #spiderverse spoilers #Gwen Stacy #ghost spider #spider gwen #Miles Morales #Hobie Brown #Peter B Parker #spider woman #miguel o'hara

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kaz3313 · 1 year

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Why Em, despite definitely getting the most bitches, is losing on Nope ship Fics in AO3, (joke) essay under the cut:

Now- I personally see Em as bisexual who prefers women and will not really date men. She is canonly wlw and I will be talking only about f/f ships and one (joking) f/nb ship~

So let’s start with how most fandoms simply don’t like OC/Canon. Whether it’s outright hate or people will avoid the fics of their own personal preference- fics and art with OC/Canon get less traction then not. This is not counting fics in which Em is with a character who’s only mentioned since those are very much background relationships.

I will be listing off all the women that could be within “suitability” (take this lightly) and the pros and cons. I believe besides Bonny Clayton (that bitch from the commercial) and Phyllis Mayberry (Gordy Home Actress who played the “Mom” role) I will have talked about every woman character.

Unnamed Woman at Fry’s Electronics: Starting off strong with a character that doesn’t a have name! Pro’s- she looks like she has a big house and Em calls her pretty. Cons- the audience barely see’s her, she doesn’t respond and has no name. At least, unlike some people coming up on this list, she is likely still alive by the end of the movie.

Therapist: An actual canon relationship! Pro’s- Em and this woman have hooked up! There is no evidence in the movie that she has died! So she is also alive Con’s- We never see her and she has no name. Falling into the same hole as our friend above us.

Mallory: first named woman lets gooo. Pro’s- Oh My Gosh!! She has a name!! And an appearance!! She is not dead by the end of the movie!! Con’s- The way she shows up is a deleted scene. So if someone has only seen the movie in theaters… they may assume she is an OC anyway. Poor Mallory- I love you dearly

Nessie: Hot Cheeto girly! Pro’s- has a name, appearance, doesn’t die, And has a few lines. Con’s- Has never met Em and would only know her through Angel (but hey! Fanfic bring those possibilities to life— pls someone—)

Amber Park: Ah Yes. The one woman that Em doesn’t flirt/talk extensively with that she encounters Pro’s- Woman! She is there! They have kinda met?! There could be a plausible story idea where if Amber wasn’t on the phone at that time that maybe Em does talk to her. Con’s- She’s married, has a significant scene with her husband and three children. She appears to be on board w: her husband’s plan on buying the ranch which is not ideal either. Also she does die so 👍 yeah

Mary Jo Elliot: Ah yes, despite her very few scenes we as an audience know her tragic backstory. Pro’s: … She’s. In the movie? She could potentially get along with Em. Con’s: They have never met, there is likely a significant age gap between the two, Mary Jo Elliot’s character itself is hard to pin point since there’s such little time with her, and unfortunately she does die.

Now last but not least presenting: Me ☺️. No I don’t mean Reader X, I just mean me. Pro’s: I am most definitely alive! I also canonly think Em is very pretty so Yknow. Con’s: I am not a fictional character. 🥲✌️

So that wraps everything up. I will write Em getting all the bitches one day. Until then- peace out

#nope 2022 #nope movie #emerald haywood #em haywood #Please take this all as very light hearted as it’s meant to be #reblogs are just fine tho I wanna hear your own pro and cons pls

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

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A Wife for Thor Pt.02

10/19/2020

No Lies in a Marriage

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, language

A/N: As I said in the post earlier today, you’ll probably see updates for this story often right now because it’s at the beginning and I know where I’m going pretty clearly and how to get there and it’s kinda just writing itself for right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love writing this reader with Thor...but I think it’s just because I love writing Thor. haha If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You sit up most of the night after talking to David, staring out your bedroom window at the small plot of land you call your own.

Your belonging. The only true one you’ve ever had.

It’s a small inheritance, sure but it’s yours. Yours alone. A sanctuary from the feeling of emptiness that you’d once felt wishing for something that felt like home. It’s more than even some will ever have.

You’re lucky.

And now you have to leave it behind?

There’s no denying your own part in this mess. You’d been given a choice and you’d made it, believe this outcome would never come. Yet here you are, betrothed and fated to be Queen of Asgard.

David comes to help you pack because he knows that you’ll be wallowing.

In shock you pack just as asked, essentials only which means for you, only your clothing, your laptop, and a very small collection of books are chosen.

You have no pictures to take with you. No family heirlooms or sentimental possessions. You fit it all into one large suitcase.

Funny. As you pack, you can’t help but imagine the lives your nomadic ancestors had lived. Much like you in these moments as you pack what little you have of your life away; they must have left everything behind over and over in their search for their own belonging.

It only takes you two hours to pack once David arrives and together you lug the suitcase down your little hallway to the front door.

There, a beautiful Asgardian stands waiting, her eyes on your own foggy expression with slight concern as David joins her and they lapse into quiet conversation as you continue to space out, thinking about the life you’re leaving behind.

Really, if you’re honest, it isn’t much of a life.

Yes, you have your routine. This is your house. Your things. But aside from that, there’s nothing here. Nothing but independence and solitude.

That’s enough, some would say. Others would wonder what you do with all your time.

Why hadn’t you found someone to share this life with? Someone who could appreciate the coziness of this place with you.

“Are you ready?” The Asgardian asks, Brunnhilde, her voice smooth but stern, yet not unkind.

You turn to look at her, hair gathered up on her head in a large bun. She’s dressed for the Norwegian weather she’s come from despite it being significantly hotter here.

She’s not bothered by it. Or if she is, she hides it well.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No.” She smiles at you, cheek bones so rounded and pretty you almost want to stroke them because you’ve rarely seen anyone so beautiful.

All of the Asgardians are beyond compare when it comes to looks. Even those that are plain radiate a golden aura. Godlike. Thor’s is the strongest and he’s most certainly the most beautiful to look at.

You’d been too afraid to admit it to yourself before because you’d been so decided against marrying him, but Thor is by far the loveliest man you’ve ever seen. Ideal. He’s exquisite.

And you get to marry him. Which doesn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

Being chosen to marry Thor would be amazing, given the fantasies you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in since the day you met with him, if not for the fact that you know he’s in love with someone else. Someone who won’t marry him. Someone stupid, obviously.

And those fantasies you’d indulged in would never happen with someone else in his heart. So without that, all you have left is duty. Duty to Earth and its people, ensuring their safety and though you honestly don’t think Earth needs it, the assurance from the Asgardians that they will respect humans as the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Yes, the whole Queen of Asgard thing is a little daunting and will probably take over your life, so you can’t blame this mystery woman for not wanting to give up her own pursuits to take care of an entire people. To give up one identity for another? Yours is close enough to blank—your life nearly empty—that for you, this might not be such a great loss and yet, this leaves you wondering what this will do for you career.

Small as it is, you’ve had two books published. Limited releases with not much traction. Still, the accomplishment is your own. One you’re proud of.

Will you have to stop writing?

“There will be a dinner, to introduce you to Thor’s inner circle. Myself, Loki, a few others that serve directly under him.” Brunnhilde is saying, pulling you back to reality.

You look around, having zoned out so thoroughly that you hadn’t even realized you’d boarded a plane and taken off.

“The only one you’ll have to watch out for is Sif. She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s a little miffed about the whole marriage situation. From what I’ve heard, she’s had a thing for Thor since they were children. She’s a fierce warrior. Might want to avoid her altogether if possible. Asgardian women can be a little territorial.”

Lovely, another rival.

“So can human women.” You grumble, already hating the looks of what you suppose will be an onslaught of distractions for your future husband in the forms of beautiful women.

Brunnhilde quirks a brow, raising it high as she considers your words but doesn’t comment further.

“He’s never seen her as more than a comrade in arms. Or so he says.” She sounds unconvinced, but you recognize her attempt to calm you.

You stare, saying nothing more as your world is overturned.

“After dinner, you’ll spend some time with Thor. He wants to talk to you a bit. The wedding will be on Thursday. Thor’s idea. Full of himself, the idiot.” She’s smiling as she insults him, flipping the page of a magazine she’d grabbed from the pocket of the seat in front of her and you realize they must be close friends.

“Did he really pick me?” You wonder, knowing that her personality will only let her answer one way.

Brutally honest.

“Against all our recommendations.” She tells you. “Most of us were pulling for the Hungarian one. She had the schooling and the training. A little too eager for Thor, or so he said. And Loki. Loki was also in favor of you.”

“Loki?!” You gasp, remembering with great detail your chance meeting with the Asgardian prince.

“Oh yeah.”

Why would Loki want Thor to choose you? You weren’t exactly nice to him. Then again, you weren’t really mean either. Just…blunt.

More importantly, after the awkward conversation with Thor and his admission to marrying despite his feelings for someone else, his choice is the most confusing.

“Why did he pick me?” You plead. “Thor.”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight after dinner. I couldn’t tell you other than that he said he wanted someone real. Someone who knew what it’s like to be a normal person. Whatever that means.” Brunnhilde shrugs. “Normal is all relative. Odin, I need a drink.”

The plane ride is over too quickly and the ride to New Asgard even shorter. The village is large but not much larger than the town you’d grown up in. Plenty of houses and public spaces but nothing like a cityscape.

You’re surprised by the more modest choices they’ve made for their homes. Simple houses with wood siding and strong rooftops.

That is, most of the village is modest. Almost at the center of the largest grouping of buildings is a large multi-storied palace.

Just as it did the first time you saw it when you’d been brought for the meeting, you gasp when you see it, admiring the beauty of the structure bathed in afternoon sunlight.

It reminds you of an old Nordic home you’d seen online only on steroids. Four, maybe five stories? All roofs are tall and sharp, parts covered with moss.

Brunnhilde shows you into the main foyer, large and tall room that allows space large enough for people to stand and chat. Here she leaves you and David with a young Asgardian woman. She looks as if she can’t be more than seventeen but from what you know about Asgardian aging, she’s probably hundreds of years old.

She escorts you both to your new room, and you and David gasp at the sight.

Even though it’s smaller than the sitting room you’d been in when you met with Thor before, there’s a large bed immediately to the right, covered in luxurious plum and silver silk sheets. A large dark brown bear skin rug covers the center of the floor. To the left is an extravagant dark oak armoire, beside it a matching vanity with a low cushioned and backless seat.

On the far wall, between two sets of heavy wooden double doors that lead out to a balcony sits a desk and another seat with a black cushion, the same style as the vanity’s chair.

There’s a low hanging chandelier made of intricately twisted wood, reinforced with dark steel. The design of it makes you think there should be candles, but instead you find it furnished with small flame-shaped lightbulbs.

Along each of the walls are beautiful artworks, one of a singular mountain you’ve never seen on Earth. Another a golden palace with a sky of literal space above and behind it. There’s a smaller painting almost right above the bed and the likeness of it is so precise, you gasp again.

David follows your gaze with his mouth hanging open a little but then he chuckles. It’s a throaty sound as he turns away from you and moves further into the room with your bag while you deposit your purse on the bed, eyes glued to the painting.

“These Asgardians seem to be experts at everything.” David says, conversationally. “Their architecture, their music, their wits in battle. It seems even their art is exceptional.”

You’re still too busy staring to reply.

When David speaks again, he’s right beside you, voice dropped in volume.

“It must really look like him, to have you rendered speechless.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Just like him. Only now he has the eyepatch. He looks the same with two eyes. Less rugged but the same.”

“And he will remain the same, long after you’ve died, I think.” David admits.

“Yeah…” You swallow, looking down at the bottom of the frame.

The thought had only begun to occur to you when you’d been making your way through the city after Brunnhilde had confessed to being over a thousand years older than Thor and Loki.

“For Thor, this marriage will pass in the blink of an eye.” You sigh, feeling a little saddened by truth of that.

You turn around and sit down on the bed, resting your hands on your knees limply as you stare at the floor.

David squats before you, forearms on his knees.

“You’re serving a great purpose.” He tells you. “Ensuring the safety of the human race. You’re the white flag the Asgardians are waving. History will remember you, Y/N. It will not be in vain.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know I just…” Your head gives an involuntary turn towards Thor’s portrait, but you manage to keep yourself from looking. “He’s in love with someone already. And, yeah, I’d never thought about being with someone before. But now that I’m faced with it, now that I know I’ll be his wife—I don’t know that I don’t want him to like me.”

“He may come around.” David consoles. “You’re a pretty girl and nice, even though you bite.”

His teasing draw a small curve of your lips. The levity however is quickly lost at the prospect of your life stretched out before you, never knowing love as your husband covets another woman.

This isn’t what you’d expected. To be fair you hadn’t expected anything, but now the idea of being married to Thor knowing that he’d much prefer if you were someone else hurts you in a way you didn’t know had been possible.

This ache in your chest feels strange and vivid and unbearable.

Your tears flow. David sighs and reaches up to wipe your cheeks, pulling you in for a hug.

Taking his offered comfort, you hide your face against his shoulder, allowing yourself these few moments to really feel the anxiety and sadness this whole thing has brought.

“I’m sorry.” David tells you, his voice steady but sad. “I wish I could give you a better life. I know that this is not what you parents would have wanted.”

You pull back, shaking your head as you gather yourself. “No, David. You’ve been the most supportive person in my life. This is how it’s supposed to be. Otherwise, why would I have the ancestors I have, right?”

David sighs, reaching up to wipe at your cheek.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be truly suffering. Not like other people do. I’ll have a good roof over my head, food, money won’t be a worry. How many other people my age can say that?”

David’s gaze becomes skeptical and he purses his thin lips a little. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Fuck no. This whole thing is complete shit.” You argue, then laugh as David chuckles too.

“There’s that fighting spirit. Keep that fire, Princess, and you’ll find a way through this.” He says, and the way the word Princess rolls of his lips makes you feel the way you’d always thought you’d feel had your dad lived to be a part of your life.

“You say that like it’s easy.” You sigh.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door and it opens.

Both you and David shoot up to your feet as Loki walks in.

He’s smiling politely until he sees your face.

“I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” Loki wonders, as you quickly wipe away the tears left on your cheeks.

“No.” You shake your head quickly, voice thicker than when you arrived because of your break down. “No. Of course not. Come in.”

He doesn’t look convinced and his brow is furrowed as he looks you both over then stands with his hands behind his back. He looks neat and exotic wearing a pair of dark pants, a black top with embellishments in stunning emerald, a thin golden chain connecting each side of his high collar to the other.

“I’ve come to make sure that you find the clothing we’ve left for you.” Loki gestures at the armoire.

“I’m-I can’t wear what I brought?” You ask, pressing your hand to your chest, unintentionally sniffing.

“Tonight, you will meet with my brother’s court. It is a formal event that you must attend wearing slightly more traditional Asgardian garb.” Loki replaces his hands behind his back. “Brunnhilde has chosen something she thought would be your color. You have an hour then we’ll send your maid in to fetch you.”

You nod.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Loki asks again.

“You’re surprisingly worried.” You tell him, David moving to open the armoire and get a look at what you’re going to have to wear.

Loki’s face quickly shifts into a smile, his eyes averted as he nods.

“I hear you were the only person other than Thor who chose me.” You sit back down slowly, your hands softly skating over the cool silky sheets. “Why?”

“You were a breath of fresh air.” He admits. “Compared to the other candidates, you seemed the only one with her feet on the ground.”

Looking away from him you pinch the plum sheets.

“Is that why Thor chose me too?” You ask, knowing it isn’t the reason he chose you.

“Whatever the reason,” Loki begins, and his voice is stern enough to draw your gaze. “I’m certain my brother has nothing but honorable intentions. He’s always been the good one.”

“I think that’s true.” You nod, “He has always been the good one, if the stories are to be believed.”

“I make no excuses for who I was.” Loki assures you.

“But I think you and I both know that Thor’s intentions when it comes to me are anything but honorable.” You smile sadly. “I really hate lying. Let’s not lie to each other. We’re family, right? Or will be.”

Loki’s look remains somber, his eyes far away for a moment.

“You’re the right woman for the job. That is the truth.” Loki admits.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Loki nods. “One hour, your highness.”

His words give you a shock, and your left gaping at him as he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Well, that sounded strange.” David admits, “But not as strange as this dress. Well, perhaps strange is not the right word.”

You’re still reeling from the your highness as you get and walk to David that it takes your eyes a moment to process the sight before you.

“I am not wearing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t breathe in this thing!” You whine, hooking your fingers into the ultra-high neckline of your dress.

It’s more like a cage, this piece that goes around your throat and shoulders. It connects to a slightly see-through bodice with soft split threads lining the length of the dress, underneath the top, silver layer is a soft pink one that stands pretty against your skin. It gives the dress depth and offers a pleasant backdrop for the waterfall skirt as it fans out around your feet.

The lattice neckpiece connects to the dress’s neckline with four stiff wire connectors wrapped in the same silver fabric as the rest of the dress.

Your hair, your maid expertly gathered atop your head, shaping it to look as much like you as it can but also keeping it contained with several silver Celtic knot-looking clips. She’d added very little color to your face, telling you that Thor had requested you look as much like yourself as possible so that his court could see the real you.

Even so, you’re overwhelmed by what you see in the mirror as you pass a particularly large one as you and David make your way to the dining hall.

“Don’t fret.” David tells you, reaching over to stop your wringing hands. “Just be yourself. That’s why he chose you.”

“So, what you’re saying is to not be myself.” You nod. “Got it.”

David pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him. Your maid, Estrid, keeps walking a bit then stops leaving you both some space.

“I want you to remember something, Y/N.” David says, low and quiet so that only you can hear him. Well, he doesn’t know that Asgardians have better than human hearing, but whatever. “These people, they need you. They need you. More than you will ever need them.

“Without you, they might have to leave Earth because Thor will never turn against the human race. I don’t know why. We’re not that great.” David shrugs, and your mouth pops open as you breathe a pained gasp.

In this moment, with David’s helpful words, you’re provided with astounding clarity.

“She’s human.” You realize, eyes watering.

It happens so quickly, your breath catches, brain in a frenzy, hands shaking, sweating, your tears flow freely.

You’ve never cried so much in your life and you understand now that this will be your new state of being because what else can you do when you’ve knowingly given your life to a man who loves another human woman which only means that she will also only live for a short time and that means that Thor doesn’t have a lot of time with her so, of course he’ll want to be with her until the day she dies, because she’s the one he really wants to be with, and you’re just the tool to use so that he can stay here with her.

What kind of life have you fated yourself to?

“Your Highness?” Estrid asks, concern painting her voice as you shake your head, too panicked to speak.

David moves you towards the wall, pressing you against it to lean as Estrid moves closer to peek at you.

“Might I be of assistance?” She offers and David turns a smile on her.

“A glass of water, perhaps?”

Estrid hurries away giving you and David the hallway.

“Y/N?” He says, voice hard. “Breathe.”

You look at him, focus on the streak of white in his hair as it falls forward to hang across his brow.

It helps and you shut your mouth and breathe in deep through your nose.

He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls from it a white handkerchief. With gentle fingers, he coaxes your face up so that he can carefully wipe the tear stains from your cheeks. He takes a bit of the blush they’d put on you, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t either.

“What is it that troubles you? Tell me.” He urges you.

“Um…” You begin, chin quivering and making your voice shake a little. “…I-I-I don’t know how I’m going to be married to him when I kn-know that he really wants to be with s-someone else. I don’t know how…how…how…”

David sighs, shaking his head as he caresses yours. “Then you look elsewhere too. If he sees fit to be with someone else while you’re married, then you deserve to experience love too. Take a lover. Be discreet. No one will know and you will both get what you want.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” You half cry. “I mean, aren’t wives and husbands s-supposed to be faithful?”

David smiles, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead. “Then give him a chance to change his mind. If he doesn’t love you by the end of the year, then he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is. A downright dumbass.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone being with me when they don’t want to be.” You admit.

And David doesn’t need you to explain that this stems from living in the school, waiting for adoption only to never be chosen.

You’ve finally been picked, and this is what it’s for?

“Do you want me to come to dinner? I can insist on it.” He promises. “I’ll even make a scene.”

You shut your eyes and sob once, David pulls you against his chest and once more you hide your face against his shoulder.

Both of you hear her steps before you see her and yet, when you turn to accept your water, you’re frozen as you find yourself face to face with Thor.

He’s dressed beautifully, in black leather trousers, stitched with thick visible charcoal colored strips of more leather. His torso is covered in what you’d consider light armor. More leather pieces in deep gold tones except for the arms which are covered in metallic scales that shine under the hallway lights. His shoulders are draped in a floor length cape, black, thinner than the one you’ve seen him wear before.

A more casual cape, you suppose.

Both you and David are absolutely still, confused by Thor’s sudden appearance.

“I uh…” Thor looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he gestures behind him with his right hand, in his left a glass of water. “Estrid looked upset. She said you weren’t feeling well?”

There’s genuine concern in his voice and it surprises you enough to wipe away most of your worries for now.

“I’m fine.” You assure him.

David clears his throat. “I should go. I have my own dinner to eat.”

“No, please. Join us.” Thor rushes to invite him, gesturing back towards the dining hall again.

“No, no. Really.” David uses his hand to refuse, then reaches down to give your hand a squeeze. “Can I trust you to escort Y/N to dinner?”

Your heart swells for David, once again, the father you never had.

“Of course.” Thor nods, smiling at David before moving to you, seeing this as permission to move closer maybe? “I take full responsibility.”

There’s a twinge of bitterness in your chest, a rolling in your stomach as you see David narrow his eyes at Thor.

“I’m going to hold you to that, God of Thunder.” He threatens, and Thor seems to realize it’s a threat because he looks startled. However, he smiles and plays it off quickly, nodding. “Have a good dinner, princess.”

David gives your hand one more squeeze before leaving you and Thor to whatever awkward conversation you’re about to have.

Thor waits until you’re both alone in the hallway before he holds out the glass of water he’d brought for you.

“Have you been crying?” He wonders, voice soft and gentle. Deep too, it settles in your chest and makes you feel stupid for liking it.

“Just a little.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.” And that isn’t a lie. “And apprehensive.”

Also, not a lie.

“And I don’t trust you.” You confess, feeling no qualms about the shock that flits across his rugged face.

“What did I do?” He cries.

“You told me you’re in love with someone else who won’t marry you.” You sigh, taking a long drink of your water. “I’m not exactly excited to be marrying someone who already wants to be with someone else.”

Understanding shifts his expression and he nods, reaching up to scratch at the side of his chin.

“I’ll be honest,” He begins, offering you his arm as you lower your glass. “It was never something I expected either. After watching my parents love each other for many years, their marriage was something I hoped I could experience.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder for this woman you love? Convince your court! She’s human, right? I’m sure the Earth Ambassadors would be happy to have you marry any human.” You reason, still hoping to get out of this even if the only thing you hate about this now is the fact that he’s in love with someone else.

That fantasy marriage you’d painted for yourself has taken over your inexperienced brain and planted a seed within your heart and you feel like a fool for it.

“They were fine with it. Jane is not ready for marriage and I cannot force her to marry me if she doesn’t want to.” Thor laments, truly sounding sad about her refusal.

“Doesn’t she care that you’re marrying someone else?” You wonder, watching his expression as he begins to lead you towards the dining hall.

“In a way.” Thor nods. “She and I want to be together, but Jane is devoted to her work. She could not make the time for the obligations marrying me would entail.”

“Sounds selfish.” You observe, hating Jane a bit because she has what you didn’t know you wanted. Maybe not exactly Thor himself yet, but the love he has for her.

Thor says nothing for a moment, thinking probably. He stops walking and you stop beside him.

“I would not want her to give up her passions. In marrying me, Jane would lose her identity. Which is too important to her to give up. I could never ask her to do it.”

“Because you love her.” You agree.

“Yes.”

“Which is why you find it so easy to do it to me.” You explain, realizing it as you speak it. “Because you don’t care about me. Therefore, my identity has little value. To you.”

Thor’s speechless, staring at you as your own heart pounds. You don’t know where you conjured the audacity to say the words out loud as they came to you, but they’re true. Truer than even you know.

“I do care.” Thor argues softly, looking at your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“You don’t, Thor.” You shake your head, politely disagreeing.

“Yes, I do!” He argues, this time a little more heated.

“What do I do for a living?” You challenge and he stutters, thinking hard.

He furrows his brow, crinkly creases at the corners of his eyes as he ponders.

You observe it’s loveliness. Truly a creature of perfection even with the gold and black metal patch over his eye. If he cared about you, you might actually fall for him. If he gave two shits, you might be a goner.

“Your family left you an inheritance!” He points out, as if this is what you do.

“You don’t remember?” You ask, knowing the answer. “I told you when we met, though I only mentioned it in passing.”

“How am I expected to remember then? If you were not specific?” He retorts.

“If I’d been Jane, you would have remembered.” You tell him.

“No.” He disagrees. “I’m always this inattentive.”

You laugh once, shocked by his candor. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not! Ask anyone once we’re seated. They’ll all tell you that I never pay attention or listen. To anyone!” He insists, and you laugh again because he’s being sincere.

His gaze is slight shock as he looks at you, then it softens, and he chuckles with you.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask him.

“I don’t know.” He chuckles again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I suppose.”

This sobers you and your laugh dies off.

“Can I ask a favor?” You look at him, trying to read him like you’ve never tried to do so to anyone before.

“Of course.” He nods.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know that the likelihood of you loving me at any point in our marriage is nonexistent, but I really want to try and make this marriage work. I want it to be as real as possible.

“Which means I want you to be honest with me about everything. I don’t want any secrets. I don’t want to think you’re talking to or meeting Jane because you’re acting suspicious. If you have to see her,” And he seems to understand that you mean, if he feels like he needs to for his own sake, because he loves her. “I want to know that’s what you’re doing. Please, don’t make a fool of me, Thor.”

Thor considers you for a moment, absorbing your words as you wait for his response.

Instead of giving you what you want, he gives you a long head-to-toe. “I was right to choose this gown.”

He chose it?

“You look exquisite. Just as a princess should.” He admires. “Come, let’s go introduce you to my friends.”

As he pulls you towards the dining hall, your heart begins to pound again as nervous energy courses through your veins setting your limbs to white noise again. Tingly.

“They’re all very eager to meet the woman who will be Queen of Asgard.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You worry.

Thor chuckles.

“I’m right there with you.”

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #king!thor x you #marvel au #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt02 #thor odinson x reader

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shoichee · 3 years

Note

hello! may i ask some tips about the instragram acccunts the GoM + kagami could have? like of sort of post, amount of followers, stuff like that THANK U and have a great day !!

THIS IS ACTUALLY HILARIOUS SINCE I BREATHE OFF OF INSTAGRAM LFMAO

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

HELP WHAT IF HE HAS NO PRESENCE ON SOCIAL MEDIA TOO—

professional lurker

never comments on anything unless it’s to congratulate under a friend’s post or something like that

probably started using it because Ogiwara moved from letters and texts to just... instagram (technology advancements, jazz hands)

his account is on private, and he only lets people he knows follow him

all of his posts are pictures to commemorate something or just really wholesome group pictures

DEFINITELY has that picture of the GoMs at his birthday OVA

DEFINITELY also posted the big birthday picture taken at the end of the party

and also had typed very sappy BIG paragraph captions for both of these posts, talking about the journey and him being grateful… y’know, him being him

HIS ENTIRE COMMENT SECTIONS ARE JUST EVERYONE SOBBING AND KEYBOARD SPAMMING??? ONLY LIKE MIDORIMA AND AKASHI POST COHERENT RESPONSES UNDERNEATH

@kiseryouta: kuROKOCCHIIIII!!NEJWIEISK

@momoiowo: TETSUU (ʃƪ˘･ᴗ･˘) YOURE SO SWEET REEEE

@a_daikiii: i stg quit being so corny no one died yet🙄 and @momoiowo relax smh

@shin_chan77: I suppose I can express some form of gratitude for being in my life despite you being a blood type A. (insert a giant paragraph after this)

@4k4shi: This was very touching to read, Kuroko. I’m very glad that our… (insert him going down memory lane)

Murasakibara has no comment LMAO

his entire Seirin team are his hype men under his posts

his profile picture is literally the gray default blank head because he didn’t even set up a profile picture for himself

he has like 20 followers max or something?

8 posts? like, he only posts on special occasions or big events

his occasional stories are always comprised of Nigou and blurry Kagami pictures/videos running away from Nigou UH OH (courtesy of @dust-of-fandoms)

@tetsuya11 for his user handle

@dust-of-fandoms JUST MADE AN INSTAGRAM FOR HIM HERE!!

Kise Ryota

uses his instagram account as a portfolio for his modeling career

majority of his posts are actually pictures he managed to snag from his frequent model shoots

it looks SO professional… but then you look at his IGTVs and his reel videos

his reels are either short clips of mini vlog series he does whenever he visits the GoMs or when he’s recording his Kaijō teammates doing tricks and dunks

his IGTVs are either skincare tutorials, fashion advice… or just… unexplainable, out-of-context shitposts of Kise running away from what fans assumed “a green-haired man” or some “captain”

follower account?? 124k

who wouldn’t resist a hot model?

DEFINITELY HAS A TIKTOK I CAN FEEL IT

@kiseryouta with an official verification next to it

people either love him or hate him

posts a casual selfie from time to time, and people praise him for “being real” LMAODOA AND HE’S JUST STARING AT HIS PHONE LIKE “??? IMIG BUT I JUST FELT CUTE TODAY”

his captions feel fake LMAO like: “Wow! today’s so pretty today!” as he puts a selfie post OR “What’s your favorite game?✨” under a professionally-shot model picture that does not correlate with the caption???

has posted shitposts on his stories and his fans are utterly confused… only the GoMs get it LMAO

Midorima Shintarou

ONLY reason why he has social media is because Takao convinced him that he could let everyone know the daily lucky items for each signs for every post he makes

so for the first 2 months of having instagram he just casually posts a “daily horoscope” report(?) for the day

his content attracted in all the astrology fans and people who are devoted to tarots

and he’s CONFUSED.

… Takao may or may not have played a hand in messing with the algorithms to expose his account to bigger audiences

once Midorima finds out he’s MAD LMAO *insert Takao pain noises*

either goes down two paths: just casually continuing to post the daily Oha Asa predictions without interacting with anyone OR deleting his account and making a new PRIVATE one just for communication/lurking purposes

so he can honestly have 10k followers if he chooses to be a horoscope account or like 3 followers on his private, take it or leave it

maybe he has two accounts if he feels that having instagram has its merits

definitely has a shit ton of random stuff/posts in his saved collections

boomer energy, like… what’s a “reels” feature?? people talk to their phone camera and record that?? he’s squinting really hard and scratching his head

either has 356 horoscope posts on his “main” or like 19 posts on his private

has a rubber duck as a profile picture for BOTH ACCOUNTS HELP HIM

@oha_asa_ for his horoscope account or @shin_chan77 as his personal because he doesn’t know how to change his username (thanks, Takao LMAO)

Aomine Daiki

he doesn’t give a shit about instagram LOL

it’s MOMOI who handles his account because he doesn’t wanna bother with it LMAOO

she would tease him and try to “encourage” him to stop lazing around by taking pictures of him whenever he’s snoozing and posting it

but he’s so damn good-looking that his sleeping pictures got some traction with new fans

Aomine is still sleeping

his account also has pictures of him eating at Maji burger or at a café, and of course Momoi is the one snapping these photos of him

he started caring about it a little more once Momoi told him that he can post videos of himself doing trickshots and one-on-ones to potentially find worthy rivals over the internet and meet up

so now his account (videos, reels, IGTVs) are all riddled with basketball/small parkour footage shot by yours truly, Momoi

so his fanbase is split between thirsty people and people who genuinely admire him for his skills… but I mean there’s also people in both categories, anywho

he’d totally follow his favorite Japanese idols on IG if they had one

also would follow any NBA-related accounts/players he admires

has like 2.7k followers (but growing really fast) with like 176 posts of videos and random pictures of him

his profile picture is literally a picture of him sleeping by Momoi

@a_daikiii

Momoi Satsuki

LOTS OF REALLY cute, playful selfies, and a lot of them are used with cute filters from the Snow app

sometimes would post herself doing a really cute Tiktok dance while in her school uniform

she doesn’t post too much; she’s actually more into posting IG stories and making highlights out of them and then making highlight covers have a coordinating theme together

very aesthetic theme on her feed overall hehe

definitely uses her account to comment on other GoMs posts, often commenting something snarky on Aomine’s and Kise’s

actually has 1-2 IGTVs on the Vorpal Sword’s big game against the Jabberwocks

doesn’t have much of full-body shots/outfit pictures other than mirror selfies because Aomine refuses to take good pictures of her

only when she sees Kise or Kuroko is when she can ask either to be a photographer

she’s definitely gotten a few small collab offers from small businesses, but she usually ignores them because it’s not exactly her thing

her profile picture is just a selfie with a sketch-line cat ear filter

uses a bunch of emoticons on her bio, captions, comments, everything

⌒(ㅇㅅㅇ❀)⌒ or ☆⌒(＞。≪) or .₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇. you get the picture

967 followers… that looks way too specific, but it’s somewhere around there; a lot of them came from Aomine’s account after they saw who’s been taking his pictures, and they wanna learn more about her??

around 40 posts?

@momoiowo

Murasakibara Atsushi

Himuro showed him how to use the app, but Murasakibara doesn’t find ANY USE FOR THIS LMAOO

he’d probably only get on it to look at food on the explore page and drool about the cuisines

keeps tabs on local places/restaurants/shops on instagram; those are probably the only accounts he’d follow tbh

it’s probably like ONE post and it’s an old picture of a dango on a plate he ate like 2 years ago

I have this image in my head that he has a really cute bento art as his profile picture?? can you imagine a Rilakkuma-shaped rice as his PROFILE PICTURE?

his bio is definitely: “hungry”

and that’s it

27 followers, and it’s literally just his Yōsen teammates, the GoMs and probably some other classmates of his

his captions are literally empty or 1-2 words

@oomaib0

Akashi Seijuro

only uses instagram because it’ll be beneficial for his company and to expand social networks, plus getting those sweet business deals and engagement

he doesn’t mind seeing really wholesome videos on the explore page though

when he wants to relax, a cat video melts his stress away

laughs to himself while he reads all the shenanigans underneath the GoMs’ posts

DEFINITELY loses a few brain cells seeing trolls and idiots on the internet… especially on controversial or political ones LMAO

he at first had to REFRAIN himself and take deep breaths before he just scrolls on, but he eventually got used to them and can now easily ignore them as easy as he breathes air

he actually enjoys shitposts and meme videos?? like he may not completely understand the meme trends sometimes, but he’ll still find it amusing enough for a chuckle

he ends up being the one who uses instagram the most? like Kise posts a shit ton, yeah, but Kise doesn’t really sit down and just scroll endlessly; Kise releases out content, while Akashi consumes the content

he reasons with himself that it’s to study his current demographics for the company, and while that may be true, Akashi just enjoys social media, plain and simple LOL

he does get to study the behaviors of all the generations using the platform, young folks and old folks alike, and it does get him excited in using his analytical skills to try to figure out people BEHIND a screen rather than those in front of him

it makes a really good challenge for him when he wants a good mental exercise

he has a post or two about his horses, his manor, and a video or two on him playing his violin?? but most are business-related, them being advertisements or business contracts/offers… things like that

his highlights are all about Q&As regarding the company, his background, his skillsets, etc. like an actual resumé

actually links current world issue cards/petitions on top of his company website; he’s quite an advocate

he actually doesn’t post about basketball because that’s something very close to his heart since it reminds him of his late mother… having that mixed in with his company-related posts feels wrong to him

27k followers, most of them are business-related accounts AND some are some followers his father bought for him without Akashi’s input to inflate engagement, etc.

@4k4shi… oh he thinks he’s SO CLEVER FOR MAKING THIS USERNAME LOL with the 4 being his jersey number and the 4s looking like As… AKASHI PLEASE—

his profile pic is like a professionally taken picture, nothing less for our king

his grammar and syntax are impeccable on social media; after all, he’s still being judged for how he carries himself even on the media

Kagami Taiga

mukbang guy… DEFINITELY

hot guy eating nine plates of steaks

IGTVs are filled with mukbang videos because Kuroko said he could make a living off of his appetite

HE COULD MAKE MONEY OFF OF JUST EATING? SIGN HIM UP.

on his posts, he posts dishes he makes for the day/is proud of and talks about the dish and ingredients briefly in the caption

that, or he has pictures of his new basketball shoes LMAO

or all of his basketball merch

HE’S DEFINITELY POSTED PICTURES OF LANDMARKS AND OTHER ICONIC PLACES HE’S TRAVELED TO (*cough* in America)

has a generic Jordan brand logo against a dark background as a profile picture

doesn’t have his face anywhere unless it’s in a mukbang video

279 followers or something

why do I have a feeling that he’ll accidentally blow up when Alex takes his phone to do a quick selfie on it?—

@taiga10

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loneswaggingranger · 2 years

Text

Marvel Movies 2021 Review

I'd like to preface this by saying I have not watched Spiderman: No Way Home yet (criminal, I know, cinemas are crowded, COVID is rampant and it's not on Disney+ or Netflix what can I say) so that won't be included in this review. Also, that these are all just my very subjective ratings and views because I just think a lot when consuming media. Like. A lot. You might also tell that my judgements hinge largely on relatability, the main character's development and story engagement. There are bound to be plotholes and cliches, but as long as I enjoyed the movie, I'm happy with it. Which means that this is again, all very very subjective things and I don't mean to step on anyone's toes while making these comments. So, yeah, disclaimer disclaimer, all that jazz.

Anyway! Let's dive into it!

1. Black Widow - solid 8/10

Natasha hasn't been known for getting the best representation throughout the marvel films (Joss Whedon no babies = monster *cough, cough*), and honestly I've never been particularly invested in her either. But, this movie gave Natasha so much more texture as a solid, multi-faceted character. My only nitpick would be that it was released after Endgame, because I feel like if it had been released earlier, Natasha's passing would have had much more traction, at least to me. It would have been nice to see her story have as much focus as some of the other Avengers, instead of just being part of the main Avengers films/as a side character in other Avengers' films before she died, is what I'm suggesting.

Nevertheless, as a film on its own, Black Widow definitely hit all the right points for me! I enjoyed the chaotic banter between everyone, the high tensions and emotions, all the new characters introduced were engaging and fun to watch and Natasha's chemistry with her family just made so much sense despite me having never heard of them before. Also I might be over-identifying, because I too come from a many-conflicts family of one dad, one mom and two sisters, and being the younger of the two you bet I rooted for Yelena with my whole heart. It's just... really nice to be able to see some aspect of yourself in a story, albeit a dozen times removed. (Which just goes to show that representation, even the most minimal distant amount, matters.)

Another thing I really enjoyed about this portrayal of Natasha is that she is portrayed as a hero who heals, who mends the broken pieces and brings everyone together again. It is a very refreshing take from the classic saviour hero trope (not to say that this trope is bad, it's just nice to see some diversity in our arsenal of heroes ya know?). I loved that the movie accentuates Natasha's role as a healer which motivates her to save people, as well as her making reparations for what she did in her former years. I watched this while at a very low point, and it was just comforting to revisit why I love good hero movies so much while watching Black Widow.

So all in all, yeah, Black Widow just felt like a very endearing personal story which I wished I could have seen sooner rather than later.

2. Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings - 7.5/10

It's been a hot minute since I last watched this one, but I remember coming out feeling very impressed! Being Chinese myself, hearing my language being spoken accurately on the big screen of something as big as Hollywood Marvel just really, really made me smile. And while I'm not American, some of the struggles i.e. meeting high parental expectations in a foreign land was still very, very relatable to me (Katy and her fam).

The martial arts sequences were all very nostalgic and it reminded me of the kickass Jackie Chan stuff my dad would have us watch with him. It's just really, really nice to see these little things of my culture (not that I know jackshit about Chinese martial arts but still!!! It was cool to watch!!!) being inserted into the narrative of a franchise I've grown to be so attached to.

The plot was rather generic, new-superhero-finds-worth-for-self but it's the generic stuff that I've never not enjoyed watching. And Shang-Chi has these really cool parallel moments when he beats his father using the same techniques that his mother did, and the sister Xia-Ling had these impeccable girl-boss moments and I'm all for that! The story as a whole was all really fun to experience!

However, the characters driving the story, I feel, did not strike as deep as I hoped they would have. Like, I don't get the same giddy grin when I think of Shang-Chi versus when I think of Tony Stark. That's probably just because they're still early in the works, and we'll gradually get to feel more for them, but at the moment it's just 'oh yay boy conquered fear' 'oh wow pretty skies' 'ah here comes the dramatic boss fight'. Like it's something I appreciated watching and probably won't find a need to re-watch any time soon.

Still!!! This existence of this movie gives me great hope for the rest of the Shang-Chi stories that are to come.

3. Eternals - 4/10

Look, I'm sorry, I really, really wanted to like this one. The cast being so diverse automatically gives it brownie points in my book, and the plot concept should have been something that I liked - a bunch of dysfunctionally related celestials who descended from the beginningless of time now banding together and working through their differences to fight another resurfacing ancient threat. It should work.

But sadly it just... didn't. Not for me, anyway. I think the problem was introducing way too many characters in one movie. Every time I start to feel something for somebody, there isn't enough time to sink those feels in before I'm forced to shift my attention to this other tragedy happening to another character when I had only just started to get mildly invested in the previous one.

Like, don’t get me wrong, there were many iconic scenes, some that got a genuine chuckle out of me, but I can only stomach so many variations of "humans good? should we help them? no we shouldn't >:(". And, with all due respect to the creators who put in the effort into this story, but did they really have to center everything around a main character that was physically and mentally weaker than those around her? Like, maybe she's just not my type of character (the chosen one trope), but I just found her so unengaging due to her not being able to do anything other than worry about the responsibilities placed on her shoulders. Like, Sersi was literally chosen just because Ikaris liked her and Ajak thought that might somehow serve to prevent Ikaris from being a dick? And Ikaris was just this, overly dramatic, brooding antagonist - and not in a good way - and they keep cinematically hashing out the Icarus flew too close to the sun symbolism too many times I just- like did he really just yeet himself to the sun after everything was said and done???? Also the weird love triangle thing between Sersi, Ikaris and Sprite (who is technically still mentally a teenager) just didn’t do it for me. Maybe I'm just not a fan of romantic drama, maybe these are just not the type of characters that I enjoy watching, but it is just unfortunate that the main trio are the trio that I care least about.

I understand that this film lays groundwork to some crucial concepts that might hint at where Marvel is heading in the future, and these concepts are actually pretty fun to think about but I just really, really wished they picked better characters to focus on. Druig and Makkari, for one, had so much potential but we only got a few glimpses of them. (No seriously Druig and Makkari single-handedly saved the show for me, I loved their chemistry together and Makkari is just so damn COOL and I really wish they gave her more time to shine dammit) Kingo was also hilarious, and heck even the Gilgamesh and Thena plotline could have been better fleshed out had it been given the time to. Because at this point, the only thing entertaining about The Eternals was the chemistry between characters (which is always fun to watch) while none of the deeper stuff really had a chance to stick. It felt like they were just shoving a bunch of characters down our throats.

Which is really, really sad, because this film has a very diverse cast that I would love to like but the execution of this story just.... didn't do it for me. And Marvel has always been known for not spectacular villain concepts, so I can give it a pass for the nameless villain that really didn't have much other than 'they were born to oppose the celestials' (probably because they were busy juggling the other nine or so characters on the other side), but just. I didn't come out feeling very satisfied watching Eternals. Good concept, weak execution.

And yeah! That's all for the movies. I'll probably make a separate post for the TV series because that is another set of stories that I'd love to share my perspective on! So! Until next time!

#I should use less exclamation points huh #also damn #I did not mean to diss so hard on Eternals #but it's okay #right?#just an opinion ok #marvel #black widow #shang chi and the ten rings #eternals movie #natasha romanov #yelena black widow #i love them with all my heart #also to anyone who read to the end of this #thank you :")#love you 3000

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years

Text

Stud 10

Previously on Stud

“No.”

“I thought we agreed not to look at the price tag.”

“How much does it cost?” Clarke wailed, groaning as she looked at the spec sheet the realtor had given them on the trip over to the building.

“What were you complaining about if not the price?”

“I don’t complain, thank you.”

“You often voice your concern in a loud and disgruntled manner,” Lexa explained as she continued scrolling on her phone, checking her emails eagerly.

The car slowly trickled its way down the busy streets toward their evening appointment. It’d become somewhat of a routine at this point, and Lexa was certain their realtor would get sick of them after a dozen or so showings, and they were none the closer to agreeing on anything.

“It has five bedrooms and six bathrooms, Lex.”

“But the location and the view.”

“We don’t need that big of a place.”

“One can be an office, one is our room, one is an art studio for you, and that leaves two bedrooms for visitors. You know Aden will be dying to stay, and my dad, and your parents when the visit. And what about Raven? She needs a place..”

“We don’t need that much space. Your dad owns a place on the Upper East, so he doesn’t need any room.”

“But the view.”

“Can we at least agree on size?”

“I don’t like to limit ourselves. What if we find the right place but it has like an extra bedroom?”

With a sigh, Clarke tossed the paper between them on the seat before looking out the window of the unmoving scenery. It was a rainy day, and a balmy evening. She hadn’t enjoyed the house hunting as much as she’d thought she would. Something about finding a place together felt more like a nightmare than a dream. They couldn’t seem to agree on much of anything, and Clarke didn’t want to fight anymore. She just wanted to magically find a place they agreed upon and she wanted to not live out of suitcases at Lexa’s because her place sold so quickly.

It didn’t help that Lexa was a little busier than normal with her new pet project, or that Clarke was feeling the pressure of work and her parents and her friends. It was a rough spring, and she just wanted something to work out.

“I don’t want a big place. I want something comfortable, and ours. It can be a studio for all I care.”

Lexa paused and turned off her phone, the back of the car going darker with the absence of its light. It’d been a long few weeks of running around and looking everywhere, and she wasn’t sure why, but it was only right there that she felt a wave of sadness on her chest. It might have been Clarke’s voice, or her optimism despite it all.

There was a way in which Lexa was vastly aware of how much she worked, and with Maggie getting started, she was conscious not to get completely sucked into it. She also knew that she was distracted, and Clarke was kind enough not to hold a grudge. There might have been a tiny part of Lexa that almost didn’t want to find a new place because she loved her place, and she did not like change.

“I take back the thing about you complaining all the time.”

“I don’t think you said all the time.”

“Right,” Lexa nodded and smiled, taking her girlfriend’s hands. “Let’s skip this one. It’s not for us anyway.”

“We already told Elaine we’d be there. I’m not going to make her mad. I kind of like her and she’s put up with us.”

With a dramatic flourish, Lexa sagged against the back of her seat and chanced a peak at her girl to see if a tantrum would have it’s desired effect. It never did, but she always had to give it a try. When it failed, she tried to the grin, the same grin that led to window sex, that grin. It was effective sometimes, though she never tried it in a car.

“I promise you right now, that we will find a place by May first, and we will be enjoying our own place all summer.”

“We’re going to London in June, and I was invited to a family trip to some beach house. And we promised my parents we’d visit.”

“Okay, we will find a home and we will have a place to come back to, just ours,” Lexa kissed her girlfriend’s hand and held it, trying her best to sound as reassuring as possible. “Plus, that’s not a family trip. That’s the annual board retreat and it’s dreadful.”

“What about the family trip?”

“Aden picked camping. So we’ll be hitting a few national parks.”

“But you.... You guys own like mansions on lakes.”

“Dad’s stoked. We used to camp all the time when we were kids. He dug out all the old gear and booked the grounds.”

“Like tent camping?”

Lexa smiled and nodded earning a slight sigh from the teacher beside her.

“For someone who is adverse to the luxury of my position in life, you sure do like the fancy digs and vacations.”

“I know,” Clarke shook her head and looked out the window again. “I’m getting spoiled. I just don’t like nature that much.”

“So you’re bailing?”

“No! It’s a family trip, of course I’m going to be there.”

That part made Lexa feel a bit warm in her chest. Of course Clarke would say something like that, and of course she would like to go anywhere her family did. So she squeezed her hand and picked up the paper to look at the specs for the place.

“Maybe this place will be it,” Lexa offered. “Too big and all. Wouldn’t that view of the park be so nice? And those windows.”

“You do seem to love windows,” Clarke recalled, flushing slightly.

“I think we’re here,” Gus offered as he pulled up to a building. “Nice looking place from the front.”

“We’ll find our way home tonight, Gus,” Lexa informed the driver. “I think I owe Clarke dinner.”

“I can wait.”

“No,” Clarke offered sweetly. “She really does owe me dinner. Have a good night. Thanks for the lift.”

“Good luck in there,” he smiled and closed the door after letting them out.

Before he pulled away, Gus stood by the car and watched. Clarke hugged Lexa’s side and Lexa had her arm over her shoulder. She kissed her temple absently and the driver who had held her in his arms on the day that she was born felt insanely proud at the moment he’d witnessed. He’d always worried about her, especially after the death of her mother. But Clarke was a spark. Lexa knew him well enough to know he’d still be there, to turn around before they moved to the elevators with the realtor and gave him a wave and a smile that he returned. Gus truly did hope they would find their home, because Lexa needed a place to come back to no matter what.

XXXXXXXXXX

The view of the park was spectacular.

Clarke didn’t pay much attention to it, not at the present moment despite her forehead resting on the glass. She felt Lexa kiss her shoulder before her tepid breath moved to her neck and a hand that tugged her shirt higher while another was firmly rooting around in her shorts. There were words happening,but Clarke couldn’t really decipher much of them. Her fingertips clawed and found no traction against the glass.

As sloppy and poorly planned as it’d been, Clarke relaxed, going slightly limp, allowing the window and her girlfriend to support her as she tried to catch her breath and remembering the feeling of the cool glass against her heated skin.

“I love our place,” Lexa whispered, kissing Clarke’s shoulder and earning a chuckle. “So many windows.”

“I don’t know which will be worse,” Clarke stood on her own slightly. “Sore from moving all of the stuff or from christening every surface and new piece of furniture we get.”

“How can you be sore when I make you feel so good?”

There was a mischievous grin there that Clarke kissed in an instant, gobbling a Lexa in such a good mood up deliciously. Even though they were both slightly sweaty, she held her close, not minding the smudges she was sure existed behind them.

“Our place,” Clarke muttered, something she was still not used to saying. “Can you believe we agreed on a place?”

“Yeah, because you’re spoiled and I give you whatever you asked for. It was inevitable.”

“Shush.”

“Our first night, and you’re hushing me. Sounds about right.”

“You make me sound like I’m a demanding brute instead of an incredibly devoted,” Clarke explained, kissing her girlfriend’s neck. “Alluring,” her jaw. “Loving,” her lips. “Supportive partner.”

“You’re a complex woman, Griffin.”

With a shrug and a smile, Lexa relaxed a bit. The sun was setting later as the spring bloomed in the city. There was something sweet to the moment, and she was savoring it because she was someone who held moments tightly.

“We should order dinner. We didn’t unpack anything.”

“The bed is set up.”

“And that’s it,” Clarke shook her head.

“You wanted to do it all yourself.”

“Yes, well, I got distracted by your affinity for--”

“Fucking you against hte window,” Lexa agreed quite seriously. “Yeah yeah. When are you going to stop using that as an excuse?”

“When you stop doing it.”

“So… never?” Lexa pushed forward again until Clarke was leaning against the window. She hissed slightly at the chil as hands moved to her hips. “You’re just so pretty and I have an outrageous amount of affection for you.”

“Don’t sweet talk me.”

Somewhere between the kiss and the complaint, the buzzer went off. And despite Lexa’s idea to ignore it, Clarke slipped from her grasp and pressed the button. She felt her stomach growl and she realized how hungry she was. They did need to eat, and they did need to start unpacking. With a forlorn glance she looked away from the windows once again.

“Your dad is on his way up,” Clarke yelled from the other room. “Please wipe off the window or something. I’m going to clean up in the bathroom.”

Despite the frantic screech and order, Lexa just looked around at the boxes and held up her hands, unsure of how she was supposed to find anything. Instead, she listened to her girlfriend swear as she bumped into something and ran into the bathroom. Lexa just moved toward the door.

“Hey, kid,” Alex grinned and hugged his daughter at the door. “I was just heading home and I thought I’d bring you a house warming present. See if you needed any help hanging up shelves. I’m quite good at that kind of thing you know.”

“I know, I know. Not yet, but I’ll let you know.”

“I ran into Elaine in the lobby.”

When he moved aside, Lexa saw her realtor and nodded politely at her.

“Great minds,” she offered, holding out a bottle of wine. “I tried to drop something off before, but you guys were quicker than I thought you’d be moving in.”

“The reno guys were really good,” Lexa explained, examining the bottle. “Thank you. This is one of my favorites. Come in, guys. We haven’t made a dent in unpacking, but please--”

“Where’s that pretty girlfriend of yours?”

“Sorry, I was just… um… is that wine?” Clarke breezed in and accepted a bigger hug from Alex than Lexa got. She kissed the realtor’s cheeks and accepted a half-hug. “Did you two plan this?”

“No, no, just good timing,” Elain blushed slightly as she looked from Alex back to the pair.

“What do you think,” Lexa turned to the girl who hugged her side. “Our first dinner party?”

“We were just going to order, and these are both very good looking wines,” her girlfriend agreed before turning to her father. “Would you both like to join us?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Alex waited for the inevitable refusal of his refusal.

“Yeah, I just wanted to drop this off. I hadn’t even planned on coming--”

“You can’t let us drink this on our own,” Lexa shook her head. “Come on. We’ll have some food and finally christen this place.”

There was a slight elbow in her ribs, but Lexa was proud of her choice of words. She was proud of her place and she was proud of her girl, and she was proud of being someone who could invite people in for a quick dinner and drinks.

“Please stay,” Clarke offered again. “We always order too much, and you’re saving me from having to do any unpacking tonight.”

“I think we have to stay then,” Alex grinned and looked expectantly at the realtor who finally gave in.

“Perfect.”

XXXXXXXXXX

“It was a very nice place,” Elaine promised.

“You’re being generous,” Alex chuckled as he shook his head. “We thought it was going to be a nice area. We should have listened to you.”

“I can’t believe Mom let you make that call,” Lexa laughed before taking another sip of her wine. “Or that you let him buy it.”

“We were all young and dumb,” the realtor shook her head and took another drink as well. “That would have been thirty or so years ago.”

The foursome sat on a hodgepodge of furniture assembled on the patio overlooking the park and the trees and the beautiful sunset. With take out containers passed around and random plates and plastic cutlery, they shared and laughed and drank wine from coffee mugs. It’d been an evening of good conversation and good wine and good food, and much to Lexa’s liking, she stole food from her girlfriend’s plate and laughed at her father’s stories.

“Your mother never let me hear the end of it, anytime we bought a new property, I wasn’t allowed to even say I like it or not.”

“At least we agreed,” Clarke offered. “I think you eventually had a good eye to find this place.”

“Well, when you finally agreed to live with me, I figured I should provide adequate shelter.”

From her spot, Clarke leaned against Lexa’s legs and looked up at her, smiling and in love. It was a sight to see. Lexa swirled her wine and took it all in, as she was known to do, while her father reminisced with Elaine, barely remembering each other from too long ago. Lexa rubbed her girlfriend’s shoulder and her neck absently.

“It’s almost unbearable, isn’t it?” Alex shook his head after watching the two of them. He smiled at the pair across from him.

“What’s that?” Elaine leaned closer.

For a moment, Clarke and Lexa were making eyes and whispering, smiling, happily unaware that they were now the subject of observation.

“How happy and in love they are.”

She turned her gaze upon them and sighed, amazed by it after finally having the time to observe them.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’m so proud of her.”

This time, Elaine turned toward the beaming father and smiled smaller, to herself, in awe of such honesty and the source itself.

“Don’t look now, but I think your dad is hitting it off with the realtor,” Clarke whispered after tossing a glance at the pair across from them.

“You’re completely impossible lately. Trying to set up everyone we know.”

“Maggie and Raven could hook up.”

Lexa just shook her head and finished her drink.

“Can I get anyone a top off?” she interrupted the conversation as she stood.

XXXXXXXXXX

“I think she liked him and he was certainly interested in her,” Clarke informed Lexa. “You didn’t pick up on those vibes?”

“My dad doesn’t have vibes.”

The girl at the sink snorted as she continued to rinse out the paltry amount of dishes they’d accumulated in their tiny dinner party. Disinterested in anything at all, Lexa absently played with her empty mug, waiting for the moment to carry her girl to the bedroom and sleep off the inevitable wine hangover.

“Aw babe. He might not know it, but they were definitely hitting it off.”

Despite how amused Clarke was at the whole thing, Lexa felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought of the betrayal. It didn’t sit right, it didn’t feel right, and everything felt heavier caught in the wine-shaded haze of the long night.

“There’s no way. He’s… he’s not interested in anything like that.”

“For someone who likes fucking me against windows, you sure are a prude. He looked like he was having fun. Let the man flirt a bit.”

“You’re reading too much into it.”

“Does he at least know that you’re okay with him dating someone else?”

“I’m not.”

There was a pause. Clarke looked up from the kitchen sink toward the girl at the island, and she waited for the joke, for the laugh, for the punchline. But nothing else came.

“You can’t expect him to be lonely for the rest of time.”

“He has friends. He stays busy.”

Hands were on hips, and Lexa knew it was a fight before she could stop it. But she didn’t care. She was having feelings, and they were burning up through her veins and scorching her neck and cheeks and chest.

“And every night he crawls into an empty bed, Lexa,” Clarke argued. “I don’t know about you, but when you’re gone for a week, by Tuesday I’m absolutely sappy with missing having you near. I can’t imagine how that is for him.”

“He doesn’t want anyone else.”

“Maybe he doesn’t, but don’t you think it’s important for him to know that you don’t want him to be alone?”

“No.”

It was stark and honest for the moment. Lexa wondered if she sounded selfish or confident in her delivery. There was a thin line between spoiled and demanding.

“If it were you, and something happened to me, I’d want you to never feel an ounce of sadness or like you were alone or like I would want to take away one second of your life pining away for me.”

“But you’re you, and you’re not dying,” Lexa shook her head and spoke forcefully with her hands. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you and only you. Ever.”

“Your father has a few decades ahead of himself, and he’s supposed to pine away forever?”

Lexa didn’t like the thoughts in her head or the words that were coming out of her mouth or her girlfriend’s mouth. But they kept happening. There wasn’t a pause button.

“That’s my dead mother you’re replacing!”

“No one could replace her! I can’t believe you’re acting like this.”

“I never thought this would be an actual option. I’m sorry I’m not mature enough to handle the idea of my father with someone else.”

There was something to be said for the honesty. Clarke only ever asked for that from her girlfriend, and when she got it, the actual hard parts, she was always proud, even in heated exchanges or disagreements. Maybe even more so then. And even when she was mad, she softened because it was Lexa.

“I didn’t know your mother,” Clarke began, soft and gentle despite the anger she fought to keep down for the moment. There would be time to be forceful later. “But I’ve heard stories from everyone I’ve met through you. She was a force that I can’t even fathom. Your father’s potential choice of going on a date with a woman does not take away his love or devotion to her. Nothing could do that.”

Lexa grit her teeth and took a deep breath.

“She was my favorite person and sometimes I feel like I’m losing her.”

“Just because you don’t actively think of her every second doesn’t mean that you aren’t. She created your whims and your thoughts and your like and dislikes-- she made you a person and every action you do is because of her. She’s innate to you, love.”

“I don’t know.”

“Gus told me a story about how he saw your mom and dad fighting after some event, and when he mimicked her, he moved his hands,” and Clarke moved it to show what she meant. “And it was exactly what you do when you get frustrated and mad. You just did it two minutes ago. She’s not gone. Your father deserves happiness.”

“He does.”

“Let the man go on a date.”

“I can’t stop him. He’s an adult--”

Clarke gave her a look until she acknowledged her power. Lexa nodded and looked away before flopping down on the still-covered couch, defeated and exhausted from the uproar of thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” Lexa offered quietly between them. Clarke didn’t move closer, but just stood across the room until she leaned against a chair.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she returned. “You’re just insanely frustrating sometimes when you’re purposefully obtuse. And I know your father, so I know who is really to blame for that genetic gift I have to deal with.”

Despite the dig, Lexa smiled to herself and snorted. Sometimes Clarke was too good at deciphering her, and to be left so bare and honest and broken down into her simplest parts was excruciating and wonderful, all at the same time. It’s easy to see what’s wrong with an engine when you take it all apart to find the source of the problem.

“I hadn’t thought of any of this. I don’t know what to think.”

“We can figure it out tomorrow, if you want.”

It was hesitant because the entirety of their conversation had been so heavy and unresolved that Clarke wasn’t sure Lexa would want to go to bed or if she’d be stuck in her head about most of the ideas. But Lexa watched her shy smile and she returned it, holding out her hand before moving.

Clarke crossed the box-mined living room and took a seat on her girlfriend’s lap, carefully kissing her cheek before laying her own on Lexa’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you anymore,” Lexa confessed, the first time she’d had that thought. “You’ve ruined me.”

“Guess I should stick around then, huh?”

Lexa hugged her close and nodded.

“I’ll talk to my dad.”

“Only if you’re ready.”

“Maybe I should talk to aden first. He’s brilliant.”

“He surely got the brains,” Clarke agreed. “And the talent, and the physical prowess, and the--”

“Okay, okay. I get it.”

“Let’s go to bed. I’ll make pancakes in the morning.”

Lexa smiled and nodded, because nothing in the world sounded better to her than waking up with Clarke and eating pancakes.

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yvynyl · 3 years

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youtube

// Letters to YVYNYL //

Little Fuss "Watch Out"

/ I've been a bit checked out of the internet this year, despite endless swiping my way through my dumb phone. I came across this letter today and it made me remember how many wonderful songs I get here and how great it is to touch base with artists who are still slogging along in this swamp as the rest of us. Have a listen to this new lovely new song from duo Cody Von Lehmden and Olivia Martinez.

Hi Mark!

First of all, I want to thank you for curating this blog and all you do for the music community. I know firsthand how big of an impact you have had on individual artists and creators as a whole. In fact, it feels like a wild, full-circle moment to be writing to you because, in a very direct way, YVYNYL is responsible for starting my own music career.

Nearly five years ago my brother, who was in my band, The Candescents, wrote to you in what we saw as a longshot that anyone would take a chance on a small, upstart indie band from rural Ohio. You decided to feature us, however, based on nothing but a self-produced song and a few grainy photographs. I remember waking up on the morning after it was released to a flurry of excited messages from my bandmates, and we watched as your blog post slowly caused the song to spread across the internet—gaining traction from an army of bloggers and deep-internet music lovers.

It was perhaps the most exciting and fulfilling moment of my entire life to see absolute strangers supporting something that I was a part of. Little did I know at the time, your decision to feature us and our music would start me out on a half-decade journey that would culminate with getting signed to Dirty Hit Records, going on several North American tours, and forming a life based around my love for music. While I consider myself lucky to have been a part of such a dream scenario, both my brother and I departed in early 2019—the reasons for which could be an entire article in itself!!

The world however keeps turning, and I have somehow found the past couple years to be even more exciting than the last. After leaving the band, I packed up all of my possessions and music equipment into my car and drove to the east coast—with little direction or purpose other than my desire to continue making music. I ended up in Boston where I auditioned for Berklee College of Music and was accepted to study in Valencia, Spain. While studying abroad, I met Olivia Martinez, and immediately we bonded over a shared passion for cheap wine and creating art. Since being kicked out of Spain due to COVID, we’ve remained singularly committed to growing together as artists, and our project, Little Fuss, has become our medium into which we have put all of our energy. Our single “Watch Out” and accompanying self-shot music video is the first taste from our debut EP.

Both lyrically and musically, this song represents the need for us to keep pushing forward as songwriters and not become complacent in following a set formula. The need for discovery is an intangible part of what makes this band so special, and that is perhaps best exemplified by our DIY approach to almost every aspect of our music. All of the supporting material, including the video and artwork, was completely done by ourselves during quarantine. The music video in particular was shot and edited over the course of two days and is our first foray into videography. We couldn’t be more proud to share this art with you that we care so deeply about, and we hope that you enjoy it!

Over the past year, this project has served as a constant reminder to only look back as a means to appreciate what you have. Because of that, I don’t view Little Fuss through the lens of The Candescents, but rather as a completely separate and important entity. This song is just the start of what I know to be a long and fruitful songwriting partnership, and we would greatly appreciate it if you considered featuring us on your blog!

Thank you for reading!

- Cody Von Lehmden

Support YVYNYL, an independent music project here!

Got a story to tell? Submit it to Letters to YVYNYL.

Instagram + Twitter + Facebook + Bandcamp

#Little Fuss #Dirty Hit Records #Letter to YVYNYL #music #indie rock #indie music

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harolinastyles · 4 years

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The Honeymoon

So finally, a little late, this is my piece for the Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge that the lovely @oh-honey-styles, @andwhenshesays and @for-fucks-sake-h organised. For those of you who read my writing on Wattpad it's basically a peek at Harry and Jessi's honeymoon. Thank you to everyone who reads this. I hope you enjoy! x

Breathe me in, breathe me out, they don't think that they could ever go without.

Rated M for Mature. 4.5K words.

I stumble out from inside our private honeymoon villa and the bright sunlight stings my eyes. I flip down the sunglasses I’m using as a makeshift hairband - a habit I’ve picked up from my husband - so they shield my gaze. Our two weeks here are quickly coming to an end and if it wasn’t for our daughter waiting back home, I don’t think you could drag me away from here. We’ve barely left the confines of the villa but every detail has been perfect, from lazy breakfasts in bed, to curling up with Harry while he reads me poetry, some from books and some that he’s written himself, those are my favourites.

“Ah, there he is,” I whisper. Zeroing in on my target lounging on a giant heart-shaped pool float. He looks so still and peaceful that I wonder if he’s asleep but he flips the page in his book softly and my insides do a little somersault, I’d missed him during my nap - a consequence of the teeny tiny little one growing inside me. My feet tiptoe down the steps as I make my way closer.

He looks every inch like a tempting meal and I’m dying to taste him - another consequence of my pregnancy. Maybe not. He always looks like a snack. His hair is wet, indicating he’s recently been for a swim and his skin seems to shimmer under the sun's rays. His chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm and my gaze moves lower. The muscles in his abdomen are taught and defined and the tips of my fingers tingle as I imagine brushing them over his warm skin.

Something between a gasp and a moan leaves my throat as I spot the white, wet boxers, almost see through as they cling to every glorious inch of him.

“Mmm… you’re alive then?” The low rumble of his voice has me attempting to discretely rub my thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building there. “Thought I would have to spend the entire day by myself.” The accompanying pout on his face would usually be adorable but combined with the facial hair he’s so proud of growing all I can think about is how much I want his mouth. Hell, I want all of him. Immediately.

“Don’t be dramatic. I’ve only been gone a couple of hours.” I grin as I sit myself down on the edge of the pool, beside his glass of tequila.

“Feels like a lifetime!” The cheeky glint in his gorgeous green eyes make me shuffle on my bum. He quirks his eyebrows at me when I pick up the amber liquid and inhale deeply before sitting it back down. “I could make you a virgin mojito if you’re thirsty.” He offers.

“Just like the smell of it. Reminds me of you, of stolen little kisses, moments just for us while you work a room.” I have learned how to share my new husband with his many fans and admirers and the fact that he always makes sure I’m having a good time definitely helps.

“C’mere,” he growls. He curls his pointer finger in a beckoning motion but I shake my head.

“You come here!” I tease my fingers up my thighs and open them wide so he can see that I have no underwear on before quickly closing them again.

“Fuck!” His Adam's Apple bobs in his throat as he swallows hard and a loud giggle escapes my mouth as he paddles toward me, looking like a man who can definitely give me everything I desire right now.

I move my head from side to side as he tries to make his way to the edge of the pool; I reach over and wrap my fingers around the pointy end of the heart and pull him over so he’s floating in front of me.

“Now what?” He smirks, sitting up on the float while his hands grab for my knees.

I giggle as I wag my finger at him, “Lie down!”

He blows out a huge puff of air as he sinks back onto the red heart, folding his arms across his chest and letting a pout rest on his pink lips.

“What’s the matter, H? Don’t you want to play with me?”

“That’s what I was trying to do…” his voice trails off as his green eyes fix on my fingers, slowly tracing up my thighs.

“You know, you’re pretty adorable when you get all huffy,” I smirk. I lean forward, making sure he gets a good look down his shirt to see that I’m not wearing a bra either. He lets out a moan as I softly scratch his thighs and I feel like throwing myself on him instantly.

“I’m not adorable. I’m rugged, handsome, sexy as hell.” He chuckles gently as I hook my hands under his knees and pull him closer. I drop his legs down on either side of my body and hope that’s enough traction, so he won’t float away.

“You look really shiny.” I place my hands gently against his swallow tattoos.

“Mmm… I might have put on a little too much sun cream.” His bashful smirk makes my heart race. “That’s what happens when you leave me to my own devices.”

I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from my chest. He’s such a dork. “Sort of reminds me of the lights up music video.”

“Ha. You hate that video.” He scoffs.

“Hate watching other people with their hands on what is mine,” I suck my bottom lip between my teeth as I slowly run my fingers down his toned body before stopping just below his butterfly.

“Yours huh?” he teases.

“Mine!” I reply while confidently pointing towards my wedding ring. “Legally binding.”

“I like it when you get all possessive, Mrs Styles. Officially making you mine was the best day of my life so far, apart from the day Robi was born.”

“I’m still not used to hearing you call me that.” My hands inch a little lower.

“I love saying it. Mrs Styles. Mrs Styles. Mrs Styles.” His fingers wrap around my wrists before I can react, and he effortlessly holds me in place. “Now, Mrs Styles, are you gonna let me fuck you or are you planning to tease me all fucking day?”

“You know, our three-year-old displays more patience than you!” I snap, well aware of the fact that between his hands on my wrists and his legs either side of mine, he has me trapped. No getting out unless I can make him slip up, lose his focus.

“Patience? Is that what you expected me to have when you came out here and gave me a perfect view of your panty-less pussy?” His words hurtle at me in a low growl and I no longer care who is in control, I just want him to take me. “You’re very lucky I haven’t bent you over that sun lounger yet…” he trails off as a whimper leaves my throat, “is that what you want from me? Does my pretty little wife want me to pound into her so hard she can’t walk straight? Claim her as mine? Mark her skin? Would you like that, baby?” His green eyes have darkened considerably and I can tell from the strain in his white boxers that he’s just as needy as I am.

“Yes. Please, Harry?” I beg. Before I can process that he’s let me go, he’s climbed out of the pool and places a hand on my shoulder. He holds his other hand out in front of me and when I grab on he practically hauls me up off the ground. Despite his urgency his hand holds mine carefully as he pulls me toward the sun lounger which is more like an outdoor four poster bed. He stops at the bottom of the piece of furniture and pulls me towards him. His hands trail up my thighs as he presses his hardened length against me. He drags my clothing with him as his hands slide over my bum, giving a hard squeeze which sends shivers all over my body. “I love this arse,” he teases while giving it a playful tap.

I reluctantly take a step back from him and hold my hands above my head so he can easily remove the t-shirt.

“Now, who’s impatient?” He chuckles while effortlessly pulling the fabric over my head and tossing it away with a careless flick of his wrist. “Beautiful,” he whispers. His eyes drink me in like fine wine and I moan needily as his fingers trail from my collarbone, over the swell of my breast and down my stomach, pausing imperceptibly where the beginnings of my baby bump has started to show. His fingers dawdle where the edge of my panties would be and I try to wriggle higher.

“Harry…” I murmur as his hands move to grip my hips.

“Shh. I got you,” he says as he presses a kiss to the scar on my collarbone, sucking hard until he’s left his mark. His tongue pokes out to wet the spot, and he continues to trail wet, ravenous kisses down my chest until he reaches my breasts. He cups the left one in his hand while his mouth makes light work of sucking and flicking the nipple on the other.

“Please?” I beg as he switches. I need him to touch me or I will explode.

“Shh…” he coos and my hips buck into his hand as he slides a finger through my folds with a featherlight touch.

“Please Harry? I need more.” I whine as he presses his finger to me with a miniscule amount more pressure.

“Adore it when you beg for me, baby.”

We’ll see who is begging in a second I think to myself as I drag my nails up his muscular thighs.

“Fuck!” He yells as I trace the outline of his dick before sliding my palm over him.

“So… you gonna give me this? Or just tease me all fucking day?” I steal his words from earlier and a high-pitched giggle bursts from my mouth as he picks me up before quickly putting me back down again.

“Don’t want you on the bed,” he mutters out loud before grabbing my hands and pressing them against one of the posts, “lower.” He presses his hand to my head and carefully pushes my upper body downwards until I’m bent over with my arse in the air.

He hums as he drags his fingers along my spine and my entire body shudders with anticipation. “Look at you,” he coos while he caresses bum, “proper little work of art, can see how wet you are for me, gonna hold on tight?” I moan as his fingers slide between my thighs, circling where I ache for him before pressing firmly on my clit.

“Mhmm.” It’s the only sound I can manage as he continues to tease me, the exact way I like. I shuffle forward so I can hug my upper body to the post, the wood resting against my shoulder. A whimper leaves my lips as he slips a finger inside me and my cheeks flush as I can hear my wetness in the quiet of the secluded grounds.

“Shit! I need you, baby,” My husband’s voice is laced with hunger and I press myself further into his hand.

“I’m yours, Harry. All yours,” my voice is breathy and just as starved as his. His fingers slick with my arousal rest on my bum as he shuffles down his boxers and my skin tingles when I feel his tip pressing at my entrance. His right hand digs into my flesh as he stands perfectly still and my mouth falls open to tell him to get a move on but before I can make a sound, he slides inside in one smooth motion causing all the air to exit my lungs.

“Feel so good,” he moans and I agree whole-heartedly as my body accommodates him. I squeeze around him to let him know it’s okay for him to move and move he most certainly does. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into me with a force that almost knocks me off my feet. I grip the post tighter as Harry’s hands grip my hips, his second thrust more restrained than the first.

He shifts his stance ever so slightly and I let out a loud “OOHHH!” as his movements are now hitting exactly where I want them to.

“Know exactly how to take care of you, baby” he groans. I feel his fingers in my hair and a jolt of electricity shoots through me as he winds his hands in it and pulls, it’s gentle at first but as I moan louder he pulls harder. The pain mixed with the pleasure he’s providing feels so good that my orgasm is almost upon me before I realise it.

“Fuck me harder, H! I’m - god, I’m so close!”

“Jesus! Fuck! Me too!” He grunts. “Squee-zing me so - tight! Fingers…” the last word comes out as a sharp intake of breath and my fingers have moved to my clit before I even fully understand his instruction.

“Shit! I love you Love you! Love you!” I repeat the mantra over and over again until Harry’s loud moan drowns me out. Both hands now have a death grip on my hips as he holds me perfectly still. The wetness I can feel between my legs means we’re both going to need a shower but right now I don’t think I can move. The term fucked out is an accurate description and I’m sure if Harry lets me go then I’ll just fall to the floor in one satisfied little heap. I wish honeymoons lasted longer than a few weeks.

-----

“Is it time to call our favourite girl?” Harry calls from the kitchen as he gets us both something to drink. After our escapades by the pool, we’d moved to a relaxing bath which quickly turned heated as did drying off afterwards. We’ve just finished dinner and now is our usual time to call the little missing piece of our puzzle.

“Mhmm!” I yell back.

“You sure all you want is water?” His voice grows closer and I reach for my laptop which is open on the coffee table.

“Yeah, and you better put some clothes on,” I smile as my eyes roam his butt-naked body before taking the bottle of water he’s holding out towards me.

“What for? She can’t see me through a phone call,” he grins as he flops down onto the sofa beside me, the ice cubes in his Tequila rattle against the glass.

“Not calling. Your Mum asked us to Facetime tonight.” I straighten out the sundress and run my fingers through my hair as if my mother-in-law isn’t well aware that I probably spent all day in bed with her son. Lord knows she’d caught us together enough times. I press my hands to my cheeks as I feel the warmth spreading there.

“Facetime? I thought that was a no go after Robi had a meltdown on day one?” He places his glass on my thigh as he reaches for a pair of discarded boxers that lie on the floor.

“Apparently our girl misses us and is giving Grandma Twist a hard time so she’s hoping seeing our faces will help.” I explain while I watch Harry wriggle into his underwear. He reaches for a black hoodie that has sat on the arm of the sofa since we arrived here and pulls it over his head, he looks so soft and cuddly that I yank him back down beside me as soon as he slips his arms into the sleeves.

“I know seeing your pretty face would make me feel better,” he says as he presses a soft kiss to my lips and clicks to start the call.

“Such a charmer.” I grin and snuggle myself into his side as he wraps his arm around my shoulders. The connection stutters for a while before settling down and Anne grins as she says hello.

“Mummy!” Robin yells excitedly before she shakes her head and then buries her head in the crook of her Grandma’s neck. “Daddy, all hairy!” she wails.

“Am not!” He protests before running his hand over his facial hair, “oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mumbles as he pushes himself up from the seat.

“Where are you going?” I grip his arm tight. “She’ll settle down in a bit.” I didn’t want him to miss out on talking to her, I know he’s missed her. The two of them go almost everywhere together back home, I’ve even found her waiting impatiently outside the bathroom for him before.

“Just talk to her. I’ll be back.” He bends over and places a kiss to my forehead. My heart hurts as I watch him walk away.

I turn back to the screen as I hear Robin’s hissy fit get louder.

“Shut up!” she snaps at Anne and my anger fizzles over.

“Excuse me?” I exclaim.

“Grandma said I no have a cookie!” Her lips purse together in an angry little pout as she throws her arms across her chest.

“I don’t care what Grandma said, you don’t speak to her like that, it’s not nice and you hurt Daddy’s feelings.”

“Daddy sad? Where he go?” She says, her eyes focus on the empty space beside me while she leans in closer. “I WANT DADDY!” I can see her Grandma flinch at the volume of her voice and I feel bad that so far this call is doing nothing to calm my daughter, Anne must be at her wits' end.

“Robin, calm down. Daddy’s here.”

“Tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes!” Harry’s yell is barely audible over our daughter.

“Robin Ann Styles if you don’t quit screaming I’m going to turn this off and you can go straight to bed, are you listening?” Anne says firmly, and she quietens down. Her sniffling breaks my heart, maybe it was selfish of me and Harry to come on this honeymoon for two weeks, she’s never been away from either of us for more than a few days before.

“We’ll be home soon, just two more sleeps, sweetheart. We miss you.” My fingers stretch out towards the screen, wishing they could take the place of Anne’s which are gently wiping away her tears.

“Miss you, Mummy” She breathes, her tongue pokes out to lick away her snot, making me shudder.

“Hey, Daddy found you some pink shells yesterday!” I smile. It was the one thing she’d begged Harry for when he’d asked her what she wanted him to bring home. Every day, he’d disappear for an hour while he combed the beach for pink shells. He had found plenty of purple ones, orange ones, even golden coloured ones but none in the colour his little sweet pea desired. His dazzling grin as he arrived back victorious yesterday was enough to warm my heart for an entire lifetime.

“He did? I see?” Her mouth slowly turning up into a small smile.

I glance over my shoulder and still find no sign of my husband. “H? Where are you? Bring the shells for Robin, she wants to see them!”

“BE THERE IN A COUPLE OF MINUTES!” His voice booms through the house causing me to flinch.

“O-kay!” She yells back quietly and I watch as she lumbers back onto Anne’s lap. A smile settles on my face as I watch my daughter snuggle into her Grandma’s embrace, she cups her head softly against her chest, her thumb stroking softly over her granddaughter's cheek. It makes me feel warm because her Daddy holds her the exact same way.

“Judging by your tan, you guys have at least made it outside then?” Anne chuckles as Robin quietens down, so much so that I think she might fall asleep. “Wait, what the hell have you done to your shoulder?”

“Oh!” I can feel the blush creep over my cheeks as I glance at my right shoulder, the angry purple bruise had started to appear a few hours after Harry had fucked me against the bedpost. “I - uhm…”

“Did somebody want to see some shells?” His body bumps mine as he falls into the space beside me and honestly I want to smother him in a grateful hug for saving me from answering that question.

“Me!” Robin suddenly springs from her sleepy state, her wide dimply grin a mirror image of her Dad’s. “Oooh… they twisty like ice cream,” she coos. Her body leans in for a closer look and I rest my head against Harry as he throws his arm around me.

“Do you like them?” I snuggle closer when I hear the nervous wobble in his voice. Performing in front of 60,000 people. Easy. Waiting to hear if his daughter likes her shells. Bag of nerves. I let out a giggle before placing a kiss to his hoodie clad chest.

“Yay, you cut the whiskeys!” My head immediately snaps up towards Harry’s as my daughter's words ring in my ears. I cup my left hand to his cheek, my thumb brushing over his smooth upper lip.

“Hey, I liked that.” I blow out a slight puff of air.

“Uh oh, Robi! I think you got me in trouble with Mummy!” He smirks, quirking an eyebrow at me.

“No be mad, Mummy! He bootiful!”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.” I’m unable to stop myself smiling as my eyes continue to drink him in. My body tingles with desire as he leans towards me.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers against my ear. He presses a teasing kiss there before straightening up and turning his attention back to the screen.

“So… you like your shells then?”

“I wuv ’em, Daddy.” She’s cuddled herself back into Anne and her eyes are so heavy she can barely keep them open.

“I love you.” The tinge of sadness in his voice is obvious and as his fingers grip me tighter I know he is missing Robin just as much as she is missing him.

“Wuv you and Mummy.” She yawns loudly before falling quiet again.

“Okay, I’m going to let you guys go. Put this little madam to bed.” Anne smiles.

“Has she been that bad?” Harry asks.

“Oh, the past few days I’d swear somebody switched her with the devil. She stayed with Danny and Pam yesterday and decided Severus would be her new dress up buddy. Well, he didn’t take kindly to that, so he gave her a nasty scratch on her leg and that set off the tantrums. Didn’t want anyone to look at it that wasn’t you guys. Then she had a nightmare last night. She just misses you. She’ll feel better now she’s getting some rest. So will Grandma.” She chuckles. “Now go, have fun! Enjoy your time together before you have another little handful, they’ll be here before you know it.”

My fingers automatically press against my tiny bump. I honestly can’t wait to meet him. I have a feeling it’s a boy this time but maybe that’s just my heart ruling my head.

“Love you, Mum.”

“Me too.” I quickly add. “Thank you for taking care of our baby.”

“Are you kidding? Despite her moodiness I love having her here. She’s Grandma’s little sunshine.” She beams. “Now go before you wake her and she causes a minor thunder storm again!”

Harry closes the laptop once we’ve exchanged a last set of goodbyes.

“Baby?” he questions. His arms wrap around me and he turns me to face him.

“I know. I miss her too. You ready to go home, Mr Styles?” I press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I love you!” He exclaims, pushing me backwards so I fall down onto the sofa. “Do you know that?”

“I do.” I answer honestly as his body straddles mine.

“Make me so fucking happy -” he slides his hands up the side of my body, stopping on my ribs, his thumbs brushing the underside of my boobs, “-and horny.” His smirk makes his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “I can’t wait to watch this little bump grow.” He bends to press a soft kiss to the fabric of my dress, exactly where our little one is busy growing. “You know, I don’t think I told you this… no nevermind it’s silly.” he shakes his head before turning away from me and burying it in my side.

“Hey, no. Tell me, H,” My hand moves to rest on his head, fingers automatically combing through his messy curls.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” His right hand fists the material covering my bump as he presses needy kisses to my side.

“Course I won’t” My fingers scrape gently along his scalp and he presses into my touch.

“I was really nervous about this,” he breathes as he continues his trail up my side.

“About kissing me? Pull the other one, Styles!” I scoff as he nips his teeth against the side of my boob.

“No, well, kind of. I was nervous about the honeymoon,” his words tickle my skin as he slips the strap of my dress off my shoulder, “felt like everyone expected me to get you pregnant. I mean it’s not a secret we want more kids, and Robi is three now. I felt like everyone thought it was time and then when you told me you were pregnant at the wedding this giant pressure lifted off my shoulders. It’s been so good just to enjoy this time together, to enjoy you…” his words trail off as he presses a kiss to the sensitive spot below my ear.

“Sweetie, why didn’t you say something?” I turn my head to capture his pink lips in a kiss.

“You were already stressed about wedding stuff. Made everything perfect for us. Was beautiful. You were beautiful. Then you told me about this little one so it turned out all right in the end, didn’t it?” His hand presses to my stomach as his lips ghost mine.

“I guess it did. I love you.”

“Love you too. Now come on, there’s still one more place in this villa I want to have you before we leave. That outdoor bath has our names on it.” His deep chuckle makes my skin tingle. I will miss this place but I can’t wait to go home and begin my forever with Harry.

#my writing #one shot #harry styles fanfiction #pypfc

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terrascookiejar-archive · 4 years

Text

Terra has a Chat with a REAL Moderator this Time

In lieu of my original post that gained a lot of traction, and me talking about being “contacted” by someone claiming to be a mod.

An ACTUAL mod from the Official Cookie Run discord managed to contact me and set the record straight on a few things, as well as discuss a few things regarding what happened. So it seems that this whole situation has indeed caught the attention of the mods of the Cookie Run Official Discord, and even MicMac himself. So what’s been done?

I do wanna talk about it in greater detail, so I’m gonna put everything in a cut, starting now. If you want the TL;DR version, skip to the second picture of Chestnut with Walnut at the end.

First things First, the person who I talked on the moderation team was someone by the name of Zayder, who contacted me on anon with their details. Using some help from friends We were able to background check and confirm, yes this person is actually legit. So I was reassured I wasn’t walking into some kind of trap.

(The photo given to me to prove authenticity by a friend. I blurred out their Discord number myself just for the courtesy of privacy)

What’s Being Done to Protect Artists on the Discord, Moving Forward?

I think this is the big question on everyone’s mind since I made my original post and all eyes are on the moderators and MicMac to make the change.

There seems to be a genuine admittance to the fact that the previous way fanart was moderated was ineffective and caused issues such as the theft and reposting to happen.

So they’ve gone ahead and added stricter measures to prevent this from happening again. Including preventing new members from posting until they get the “Cookie” role, a cooldown on the channel to allow for easier moderation and viewing of said artwork, and heavier infractions laid down for art theft.

I mentioned that the cooldown also allows for time for people to appreciate genuine artwork posted. So considering the magnitude of its members I’d say that’s a great first step in moving forward towards protecting community fanartists. I got confirmation from members in my own discord that the cooldown IS indeed already enacted and even increased from 10 to 30 minutes, so I have reassurance that what’s being told to me is true.

They DO have a report system on their bot, but it seems most people prefer just messaging mods so that system in itself is rather flawed, but only so much you can do there.

(^ This one’s my own artwork, btw!! ^) Zayder also asked me for my own feedback on what could be done to help protect artists, since I am an artist myself. It seems most of the moderation team are not artists and this probably lent itself to making moderation there so weak.

In summary my main suggestions that were noticed were being mindful of traced art, and a dedicated section or post explaining art theft and how it harms artists and the importance of crediting artists. As not everyone understands how it hurts us, some people genuinely are uninformed. Which Zayder stated he would forward to Mic Mac. (Not sure how I feel about my own suggestions going directly to MicMac himself, but you know!!)

Fawn’s Situation happened so Long Ago that most of it is Lost (or worst case scenario, was deleted by a member of the moderation team)

While the general consensus now is indeed “Yes, Fawn created Nutmeg Cookie,” there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of evidence towards who the perpetrator was (We had their username, hazbinalastor666, but not their ID and they’ve since changed it to cover their tracks) and the moderators involved with Fawn’s “Ban” to be found on the Official Cookie Run Discord. At least not anymore.

Zayder has confirmed that Fawn “left” the server in December of 2019, which lines up with Fawn’s own statements on the situation. However Zayder stated that whoever kicked her didn’t actually put her on the banlist. So either they kicked her manually, or they used the bot and then used it to erase all evidence of it and pretend nothing happened (which he certainly HOPES is not the case, and I do as well). It did not help that Trial Mods were not a thing yet by this time (They were not introduced until February of 2020), according to what Zayder told me. So things on that Discord were essentially pretty gun-ho. It’s not as simple as looking up a term and going to “Oldest” to track down stuff from the time. Plus a good chunk of it seemed to have happened through DMs so... Good Luck getting that evidence.

Zayder informed me that Fawn is welcome to come back at any time. Though speaking with her she’s chosen not to, and considering her situation I don’t think anyone can blame her. I would like to believe that the version of the Discord that Fawn had to go through is not the same as the one we have now but something like isn’t essentially going to wash away what happened.

As for evidence that Fawn created Nutmeg first? Yes I do have it. The original incident, hazbinalastor666 claimed that they created Nutmeg in November of 2019, However there’s evidence in our own discord showing Fawn creating Nutmeg as early as September of 2019.

As well as the day Fawn came forward on our discord about the situation after keeping quiet out of fear of backlash, ignited by seeing the thief get a commission of Nutmeg. However, I don’t plan to post that publicly unless I have Fawn’s okay.

Yes. The First “Mod” That tried to Contact Me was Pretty Undeniably Someone Posing as a Mod From the Official Discord

“I'm also really curious on what you found false on what the "moderator" said to you. Nobody on the mod team ever told us they were gonna contact you, so I wouldnt know who that is.”

So that was my first sign that clearly the original person who contacted me at least wasn’t doing so without the consensus of the other mods, and neither did they consult the mods afterwards... So very, very likely they were a fake from the start. Some of the things that were off that I told to Zayder, and that we found through conversation were as follows:

The first person contacted me on a throwaway and refused to disclose who they were. Zayder gave me the ID of his personal discord and we could verify who they were easily.

The first person blew off my own suggestions for helping improve the fanart channels with statements like “We’re already cracking down on it.” Zayder asked me for my own suggestions as an artist without even being asked.

The first person kept trying to get me to get Fawn to use a VPN in order to get back into the Official Cookie Run Discord. Despite being told repeatedly that’s not how a VPN works. That’s just fucking weird.

The first person couldn’t track anything down regarding Fawn’s situation years ago, Zayder was at least able to actually pinpoint the date in which Fawn was kicked, and rather quickly too I might add.

Zayder had pretty proficient knowledge on the bot the Discord uses for moderation and how it works. Which he explained to me a few times. The first person said to me at one point, and I quote, “For all I know the bot gives messages when infractions are laid.”

So seeing how talking with a real Moderator like Zayder was, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that someone was trying to dupe me here for some reason. Was it revenge? Did they want some sort of blackmail? Did they want me to proverbially “back off?” And if they ARE a mod why wouldn’t they give the info and such that I gave them to the other mods? Who knows.

TL;DR:

Long Story short, it does appear as if the Moderation Team and Mic Mac have heard the artists of the fandom and are going to be working hard to lay down stricture rules regarding posting and doing their best to make sure credit goes where credit is due.

Fawn’s incident happened so long ago there’s not much evidence to be found on the Official discord, but we DO have proof that Nutmeg Cookie belongs to UpsetFawn!

The First Person who claimed to be a Mod was a fake and talking with Zayder proved it.

Overall, my talk with Zayder was very pleasant and enlightening and I believe Zayder would say about the same! I never meant to cause such an uproar, but I’d like to think things will change for the better now that we’ve all spoken up on behalf of our fellow artist.

What we need to do now is watch how the Cookie Run Official Discord moves forward and if they’ll stick to their word towards protecting fandom content creators from theft and uncredited reposts. Though after my talk I’m certainly optimistic they will.

Always have your back for your fellow fandom artist, TerraTerraCotta

#Mun Updates #Mun Posts #Cookie Run #Cookie Run Official Discord #Cookie Run Ovenbreak #PSA #Signal Boost #Be sure to pass this along!!

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tybaku · 3 years

Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30691259/chapters/77712440

Midoriya Izuku finds the incarnation of beauty and divinity sitting at a window of a hole-in-the-wall café just a few blocks away from home.

Or: An artist in search of inspiration unexpectedly finds a new muse.

Chapter 2: Him

Bakugou Katsuki finds himself standing at the foot of an altar fit for something more than a god at a quarter to 1.

The day is bright and clear, and the sun is hot on his head and shoulders. It’s too early to be out here, and yet too late, and there was already a thin crowd formed, curled around the centerpiece like a halo, or a crown. Katsuki shifts where he stands, dark eyes never leaving the piece of art on the bricked alleyway wall. He barely breathes.

He had been dragged here not out of his own accord, directly after a nearly two hour long elective class that was nothing but a bore, despite it sounding vaguely interesting down on paper.

“Analysis of Modern Art and Media 101” taught by Aizawa Shouta had been a bust of a class to choose, and each time Katsuki attends he wonders why the hell there is more of the same damn class, judging by the fact there was a 101 tacked on at the end of the name, and also it was probably the most soul-sucking class he was taking this school year. Katsuki doesn’t even care about art!

And yet, he’s still standing here. He’s standing here in a dingy, dirty back alley and gawking up at this piece of artwork like some kind of fool, his hands curling up inside his pockets. There’s a red warmth to his face that isn’t from the afternoon sun, and vaguely he thinks, maybe he could learn to care about art. Maybe he could learn to care because of this and this only.

“It’s me,” Katsuki says, not fully aware of his surroundings, or the murmurs that trickle about the little sea of people in the alleyway that are witnessing the same thing he is.

Because it is him, it’s the best version of him he’s ever laid eyes on. It’s a perception of him so pure and human, and flawless to the point where it’s perfection is debatable, and he has to take another look at it to really see what’s there. He’s wrong, the painting isn’t perfect, but it’s authentic. It isn't flawless, but it’s him, really and truly him; near flesh as it can get with its graffiti lines and colors and shapes.

Katsuki doesn’t want to look away.

Kirishima, the very guy who had brought him out here to view the godly offering on the wall, then pats his shoulder and grips onto him. “It’s you, man. Your mentions are sky high,” he says, eyebrows raised and obviously impressed. He shakes Katsuki a little when he becomes the victim of a dirty looking side-eye, wearing a little frown. “What?”

Katsuki shrugs his shoulder harshly, effectively shooing his friend off. “The hell you on about, shithair,” he says more than he asks. Kaminari’s head then pops up from beside them unexpectedly, with Ashido right on his toes, smiling from ear to ear. There’s a mischievous little glint in their eyes that they share unabashedly, and Katsuki sneers at it.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? You’re trending!” the other, less important blond exclaims, fishing out his phone to wave it around in Katsuki’s face. “Well, more like the art itself trending, but people are recognizing you! Tagging you in the pics on Insta, at’ing you on Twitter, linking you to this one art blog and shit like—” Kaminari only stops when Katsuki starts to bat his hands at him angrily, irritated at the fact he didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kaminari makes an ugly looking face like he took a whiff of something foul, but Katsuki smells sweet as hell, thank you very much; his shampoo and conditioner have black and white charcoal in them. “Dude do you even check your phone like, ever? This”—Kaminari waves giant circles in front of Katsuki’s portrait as Katsuki himself mumbles a quiet I mute that shit during class—“is trending. Trending.”

Before Katsuki could tear one into him, Ashido pats at her friend’s shoulder, squeezing herself into the terrible excuse of a conversation. “I think he gets it, babe. What Denki’s trying to say is that this”—she gestures to the painting—“is gaining a whole lot of traction right now, not only because it’s stunning, but because the artist is literally one of the biggest deals in Japan right now. Deku’s like, hot-hot. He’s practically famous in the modern art scene, and he just painted your portrait without you even knowing about it. Do you really have no idea how huge this is?”

And, no, Katsuki doesn’t know, since there wasn’t even a reason why he would know in the first place (again, that modern art class sucks, and even though Aizawa-sensei was good enough of a teacher, Katsuki sometimes thinks even he didn’t want to be teaching it from the way he talks and lectures so tonelessly, a whole new level of bored flat) so the only thing he can do is blink, and blink, and glare as he tries to take in this new information.

It’s weird, isn’t it? Katsuki has never heard of this “Deku” guy, despite his supposed status, and suddenly he’s got a whole mural dedicated to him by the guy? He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with any of this, and he can’t even bring himself to be angry about it. He’s just confused, out of place, and so damn flattered that it’s absolutely ridiculous. Someone painted his portrait and painted it well. It should feel freaky, because it is; it’s an unfathomable situation, but it doesn’t really feel anything less than nice. Really damn nice.

“Oh my god,” Kaminari gasps suddenly, the back of his hand hitting the top of Ashido’s chest in exaggerated shock and disbelief, “do you guys know what this means?”

Katsuki’s eyes find their way back to himself. His profile is sharp and frustrated. Kirishima gasps, eyes blown wide in anticipation. “What?” he asks Kaminari quickly, ever the little worrywart of their group. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

Kaminari goes smug, a little warp appearing in his dumb smile. “Kats-kun here’s got a not-so-secret admirer,” he sings in a tease, wiggling a little in place.

Despite the weird feeling curling in his chest, Katsuki scoffs at the claim, rolling his eyes. “More like a stalker,” he says, but his so-called friends outright ignore him, and turn their attention to, well, him.

Ashido giggles in delight, clapping her hands. “Oh that’s so true, there’s no way this isn’t a romantic thing! I mean, he even got Kats’ little pouty glare right!” she exclaims loud enough for everyone in the alley to overhear, like an idiot.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, and he swears one of them twitches. “My what,” he says more than asks.

Kaminari decides to take the mic, like a dumbass. “You know that thing you do when you get all frustrated about something and you try to pout, but it looks more like you wanna commit first degree murder or something?”

Katsuki doesn’t have any chance to maim him for the explanation he has unfortunately asked for, because Ashido is shrieking again, grabbing Kaminari and holding him close to her in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you’re so right! This is so romantic!” she draws it out annoyingly, before it becomes a straight up whine. “That’s so unfair! Why are you getting romanced and not me?”

And it’s not his place to say, so “Because Spikey has no balls,” stays trapped in between Katsuki’s grit teeth.

Sero then miraculously appears from somewhere behind Kaminari, a muffin and even Shinsou in tow, and Katsuki groans up to the sky when instead of saying something useful he decides to say, “They got that little beauty mark on his cheekbone too,” with a stupid smirk.

Blinking tiredly, Shinsou adds on “That’s some attention to detail,” like it means anything. “Though they missed most of the other ones.” He starts to unwrap his own muffin, peeling back the thin paper with his teeth. Katsuki wants nothing more than for him to choke on it.

“Hanta! Hitoshi!” Kaminari yells, as if the pair of them weren’t standing barely three feet from him. He reaches over and happily pulls Shinsou under his arm as Sero stalks over to Ashido. “Where you’ve been! You missed the big reaction!”

Sero lifts his hand. “Getting a muffin,” he says flatly.

Shinsou nods in agreement, humming in amusement. “Bet he blushed like a flower.” He takes a bite out of his muffin as Kaminari laughs and jokingly goes to bite at the bread.

And if Katsuki goes a little warm in the face at the dumb claim, it’s no one’s damn business. “What the hell does that even mean,” he snarls unkindly, crossing his arms.

Shinsou unwraps the other side of his muffin with his hands this time, and actually allows Kaminari to take a small bite. “I said what I said,” he shrugs, unapologetic.

“Oo, new slur dropped.” Ashido wiggles her pink eyebrows. Sero snorts, and Kirishima laughs amiably at her.

Katsuki has terrible friends, he decides, and they all can go burn in the under. He shoots them all a heavy glare they all ignore in favor of oohing and ahhing at his portrait. Shinsou looks over at him after a quick inspection of the piece. “So,” he starts, giving up the rest of his muffin to Kaminari’s grubby little hands, “what’re you gonna do?”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, expression and stance slanted slightly to the right as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocked out his hip, leaning most of his weight onto one foot. “Hah? The hell you talking about?”

Shinsou blinks plainly at him. “The graffiti, genius. You think it’s weird, right? Figured you want to beat the guy’s face in for painting you without permission, or something.”

Katsuki frowns. Shinsou isn’t wrong really, or at least he shouldn’t be, but Katsuki doesn’t feel like violence was the answer here. (A shocker, he knows, but can you blame him? It’s like wanting to punish the Earth for rotating, or the sun for setting at the end of the day. Punishing the moon for moving the tides, and many other metaphors Katsuki can’t think of at the moment.)

He doesn’t want to go about this the wrong way. Beating his admirer’s (damn it, he means artist, thanks a lot Pinky ‘n Sparky) face into a pulp is definitely the worst approach he could possibly take. There ought to be a better, and much more appropriate option, shouldn’t there? What exactly should be done in this instance? What could he do?

There’s only one thing, really.

“I’m gonna find him.”

—

It’s easier said than done in a weird way, tracking down Deku. He really is a popular and well-known young artist, and his art is plastered practically all over every social media you can think of. He’s got his fair share of admirers and haters, and critiques of his more professional work (he’s not just a street artist like Katsuki had first assumed a few days ago, he’s actually got even better pieces than Katsuki’s portrait, if you can believe it) range from big art magazines to small internet influencers. There’s all kinds of stuff about his artwork, including videos and articles.

Deku’s work speaks to all kinds of people, he finds out.

Though unfortunately, there isn’t any public information about the artist himself. In fact, Deku is a pseudonym, and there is virtually no personal information pertaining to him anywhere. His identity is kept closely underwraps, and any interviews with him are all written word (Katsuki knows this because he has scoured all of Youtube trying to find a video with Deku, and has come up empty handed). Katsuki has absolutely no method of contacting him about the alleyway art, and no way of finding him about town.

Pushing his laptop away an inch, Katsuki sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. He’s hit yet another dead end on this art blog in his search for Deku’s damn contact information. It’s terribly frustrating at this point, because he’s so close it’s ridiculous. He’s pretty sure he’s figured out who Deku actually is: Midoriya Izuku, a journalist who looks to be based here in Musutafu, and the guy whose blog Katsuki’s been snooping through for the past three days.

The guy’s got a plethora of articles and photography on a number of different artists, but according to the internet, he’s more known to be a Deku enthusiast, and most of his material stems from Deku’s artwork. In fact, he’s already got an article up about Katsuki’s portrait, dated three days ago. That was the first giveaway.

If you look through Deku’s official Instagram, Katsuki’s portrait (titled Musutafu Delight, after the side of the café it was painted on, but Katsuki ain’t gonna call it anything else but his portrait) was posted bright and early at 7 in the morning three days ago, and Midoriya’s article on The Canvas about said portrait was posted not ten minutes later. Awfully speedy for someone who is allegedly not even the artist of the piece, no?

And if you read through Midoriya’s blog and Deku’s written interviews, the connection between them becomes even more glaringly obvious due to the fact Midoriya writes his articles similarly to the way Deku does in his interviews, so much so that it couldn’t possibly be counted as a mere coincidence. Their wording and phrasing of things is near exact, and their pools of vocabulary are closely shared.

Plus, you’d have to be an idiot to not see where the artist’s pseudonym comes from.

“Deku can be derived from the same kanji as Izuku. It’s literally the same,” Katsuki had explained to his stupidly incredulous group of friends, who dismissed his “theory” on Deku’s true identity like the bunch of morons they were. The only one who seemed even halfway convinced was Sleepy, and even then he just looked amused at Katsuki’s frustration trying to map out what he was talking about to the rest of the group in his overly simple terms.

Anyway, Katsuki had little to no doubt about Deku’s real identity, but that didn’t exactly mean it made finding the guy any easier. Seriously, what kind of a dimwit doesn’t even put down their email on their own goddamn blog?

Deku, apparently.

Katsuki sighs once more before sipping what was left of his coffee and exiting out of Midoriya’s blog with a dull click. Without any other clear leads, there wasn’t much he could do in regards to finding the guy, and he rather not run himself ragged trying to do so all at once. He could always chase his tail looking for Deku later, since he wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway. Such a damn shame.

Unexpectedly a throat clears, and Katsuki looks up halfway prepared to throw a scowl at Kirishima’s stupid little smile (Katsuki told him specifically not to bother him today since he had so much shit to get done, which may or may not have been an excuse to keep on internet “stalking” Deku, as Sparky and Sleepy so eloquently put it), but finds a completely different stupid little smile he doesn’t recognize by a long shot.

It’s a guy with a scatter of freckles all over his face and green highlights in his curly black hair. He has big round eyes and a healthy pink glow to his cheeks. In short, he’s cute, but he carries himself like a wounded animal, a shy and skittish little thing. He looks like a big dork in his glasses and sweater splattered with paint at the hem.

“Hi,” the dork says in a sort of sigh filled to the brim with nerves as his fingertips flinch around the little ringed book he carries in his hands.

Katsuki quickly fits a frown onto his face, intentionally standoffish to lure this four-eyed man away. Somehow, it doesn’t work, and instead of being deterred by the attitude he was putting on, the man sits himself down in the empty seat in front of him, a wobbled smile on his lips. Katsuki narrows his eyes slightly, annoyed but impressed by the gall of the nerdy looking guy.

“Uh, my name is M-Midoriya Izuku, I’m a full time artist and journalist and”—the guy shifts in his seat and lets out a huge huff—“wow, you are super pretty up close.”

Katsuki blinks, and promptly blushes like a flower. (Thanks for that, Sleepy.) He didn’t take Deku for the bold type.

“I, um. That’s not what I—Well, yeah I did mean that, you are very pretty—uh, handsome, but that’s not what I—”

Scratch that, Deku definitely wasn’t the bold type, just the “doesn’t think before speaking” type. Fortunately, Katsuki was well acquainted with those types (i.e. his friends), so he doesn’t find it as annoying as he would've. Plus, Deku wasn’t saying anything bad, he was complimenting him.

“You’re fine,” Katsuki has to cut him off from his quick paced rambling. Every word had sounded like it was stuffed into the last, jumbled and nearly indecipherable.

“You’re Deku, right? I got your message,” he smirks in a tease as he leans back casually. Spikey and Pinky were going to freak when Katsuki told them he found Deku, and Sparky was going to eat his words. (Midoriya isn’t Deku, his ass. All the clues were right there. In plain sight.)

Deku stops, and then color bursts into his face. “How did you…” he drifts off, speechless for the first time since he sat down. Katsuki raises his brows and then holds up a finger in a hold on gesture, clicking his laptop awake and opening up his history tab. He turns the screen so Deku can see all the websites he’s visited in the past three days.

At a glance, it’s obvious everything is related to Deku and his artwork, but Deku’s lips downturn in confusion and Katsuki has to explain. “It’s research. Was trying to find the dork who painted my face on the side of the café,” he says as Deku gives a little squeak. Katsuki clicks the most recent tab and opens up The Canvas, aka Deku’s blog.

“You said your name was Midoriya Izuku? Full time artist and journalist? Izuku can be read as Deku, meaning either you are Deku, you work with Deku, or you’re some freak obsessed with Deku. Your pick,” Katsuki finishes before turning his laptop back toward him and clicking it to sleep.

Deku only gapes at him, eyes wide and shining in something Katsuki could only describe as awe. “You’re amazing,” he says in a certain way that entails he was talking before thinking again, and weirdly enough, Katsuki feels an unexpected warmth in his chest because of it.

“Bakugou Katsuki, by the way. And I ain’t a snitch. It’s obvious you wanna keep your identity a secret. Just knowing I’m right is enough. Did’ya want something from me, Freckles?” Katsuki lolls his head to the side, staring Deku down and ignoring the tingling in his hands.

Deku startles slightly, one step behind and still mouthing Bakugou under his breath like he was trying to familiarize himself with it. Weird, but cute in a way. Deku shifts around in his seat, fiddling around with his fingers in his lap. “Oh well, um. It’s nice to meet you, Bakugou-san, and I, uh…actually had a proposition for you?”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose, but nods at him to continue.

Deku gives him a shy little smile, one that crinkles the tiny freckle above his top lip. “Would you like to model for me?”

#bnha #bkdk #ty.types

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 2/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

First of all, thank you! I have never had a post do as well as the part 1 of my haute couture week review did and I am so overwhelmed with the positive feedback. This is probably funny to read for those of you getting thousands of reblogs on your posts, me acting like I won an academy award because I got a couple of hundred, but honestly I don’t expect any traction when I write on here (it’s basically just me word vomiting everything I’m thinking as if people want to hear it aka. mouthing off into what I thought was the void) so if you did read it, thank you! I do spend a long-ass time on these so it means a lot:-)

I’ll leave the self-indulgent ramble there though as it’s probably not what you came for and jump straight into part 2 of my thoughts, starting with Jacquemus. Yeah, I knew what I was doing when I tagged that in my last post. Simon Porte Jacquemus is the man of the *fashion* people right now; I’ve even found myself coming round to the Le Chiquito bag despite my original thought being “well, that’s fucking useless”. I know, I know, technically it’s not haute couture; it was part of Men’s Fashion Week, but it happened around the same time and everyone was talking about it on Twitter, so I feel like I have to include it.

In a way, it kind of reminds me of Bottega Veneta’s last RTW show, in that, especially with the women’s outfits, we seem to be sticking with simple, fitted garments and chunky, more statement jewellery. I’ve got to say I like the styling here a lot more though, and in general I’m a fan of this collection. The collared tops with cut outs underneath blazers are cool and I can’t wait until it gets warm enough for me to not feel dumb wearing my headscarfs like this; there’s a LOT of summer outfit inspiration. It’s not a mind-blowing collection or anything but it is effortlessly sexy and that’s something I wish I could say about myself. Most of us can only hope to look half as good as these models do whilst making the effort but at least Jacquemus is aspirational, lol.

I also fucking adore this colour palette. I’m sick of neutrals literally just meaning brown and white; the navy, sand and muted khaki is a fresh edition to what is usually interpreted as the colours you’d seen worn by Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff and only Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff. And I mean, come on-what is more neutral than typical English school carpet blue.

Next for the whole reason I had to make this haute couture week review 2 separate posts: Jean Paul Gaultier’s final show.

In the best way possible, it’s a lot. I don’t even really know where to start, except to say that I guess this is a fitting last show; a celebration of everything campy, messy, weird, performative, and punk is the perfect send off for a brand whose best known perfume of the last few years is called Scandal. More than anything, the final show represented the range of characters and cultures that have influenced JPG throughout his half-a-decade-long career, the lines that supposedly separate what is “masculine” and “feminine”, “old” and “young” and ultimately art and fashion blurred in the most exaggerated way possible. Sure, there are some looks which are individually a bit messy here but the way they were grouped into almost chapter-like segments meant that when you see them all together, they work. Nods to the patterns and structures that recurred from season to season were sprinkled throughout, from sailor stripes to corsets to the expected whirlwinds of colour. I’ll even allow the wellies in that one outfit; if I can get over bucket hats in Peter fucking Pilotto’s last RTW show, I can get over some questionable shoes here. Middle aged fishermen and boys who liked to pose with monster carp in their Tinder pictures as some weird display of masculinity everywhere rejoice.

Now onto a show that I personally found slightly disappointing: Margiela.

I think this one is a bit TOO weird for me. Like if you’re gonna go avant-garde, go all out. Chiffon gimp masks (I don’t know if that’s the intention here but that’s what I’m getting, sorry Maison) are something I’m not particularly fond of and I’ve never been a fan of the Tabi boots in the first place, let alone when they’ve seemingly been blown up to Michelin man style proportions. I didn’t find the show to be a total lost cause-I enjoyed the colour palette and I’ve always liked that contrast stitching detail, plus the bowler hats are interesting-but on the whole considering how much I liked the last RTW show, this is a bit of a let down.

The looks I included are salvageable but (I feel mean saying this) there were genuinely a lot of pieces that did just resemble bits of fabric draped over each over with no discernible rhyme or reason, so much so that they reminded me of some of the monstrosities I saw at a Drag Race pub quiz this one time where we had 5 mins to make some garms out of loo roll and then have a team member model them for points down a makeshift runway.

Ralph and Russo was alright. There were a few pieces that I really liked but again, I can’t help but compare this collection to the last, where it felt like the fussy details of bows and sequins and feathers and the Barbie Dreamhouse palette were utilised with a direction in mind. Here, I don’t get that. As ever, the gowns are gorgeous and I’d pay good money just to try one on for five minutes but as an overall collection I’d say there was a lack of higher vision, which is probably the snobbiest sentence I’ve ever written so forgive me.

As for Ronald Van Der Kemp, I could’ve done without including it to be honest, if it weren’t for the few pieces I’m in love with: the velvet cape, fur trimmed jacket and blue satin dress are probably my favourite pieces here.

So onto a collection I liked a lot more: Schiaparelli.

The influence of nature from flowers in bloom to insects to the organic structure of the human skeleton is as present as ever, though this collection includes a lot more delicate symbolism than usual. Honestly, the details make it for me; the brooches, earrings and facial jewellery are other-worldly touches to outfits that could otherwise be simple fashion magazine editor on-the-go. That’s not in itself a bad thing! The suits are gorgeous. I mean, I’m talking fashion editor in New York in a power suit yelling orders down the phone while she rushes along with a coffee. A Miranda Priestley in the making type woman. THAT’S a modern take on the divine feminine that Maria Grazia should’ve been going for; our goddesses aren’t women who sit around looking pretty (though that helps too) and place curses on mere mortals anymore, they’re women who get shit done.

With regards to Valentino, which was also a delight, let me start by saying this colour palette is EVERYTHING. It’s ugly sisters in Cinderella fantastic, and we know those 2 were the real fashion icons really. Other than that, I adore the Old Hollywood silhouettes from the gloves to the Liz Taylor-in-Cleopatra-level-dramatic earrings. Everything is opulent and expensive-looking and pretty much what we’ve all come to expect from Valentino. A strong 8/10.

For me personally, Viktor and Rolf was a standout and one of my favourite collections of haute couture week. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I know it’s at the complete opposite end of the spectrum to what was probably my other favourite collection, Elie Saab, but this is just my style down to a T, the perfect balance of grungy and cutesy that I want to achieve.

There’s probably going to be a lot of objections to the temporary face tattoos and I get that, but I think they’re fucking sick. I obviously wouldn’t get a permanent one lest my mother murder me in cold blood however if I did, you bet I would be pairing them with frilly-ass babydoll dresses that you could pick up in Camden Market like this.

And last but not least (that would be Dior), there’s Zuhair Murad.

Sigh.

IDK, man. Seeing Zuhair Murad dresses on Tumblr and WeHeartIt (remember that site? It still exists!) as a 14 year old was one of the things that got me into fashion, so it sucks that almost every time a new collection comes around, I feel underwhelmed. Disappointingly, the brand hasn’t really progressed all that much since 2013. It goes without saying that the stoning and the embroidery and sequins are stunning and would make anyone feel like a princess but from a critical point of view, I’m just not seeing anything new here. Whereas I feel like Elie Saab, for example, reflected the growing fascination with East Asian fashion and recognition of the supremacy of the region’s street style in his haute couture last collection, Zuhair Murad seems to be stuck designing the same dresses he was 6 years ago.

To pick one example, the rounded stoned necklines are so outdated that they’ve been making their way onto department store prom dresses for years. I get that it’s supposed to be a reference to Ancient Egyptian style and I respect that, I was one of those 8 year old that was obsessed with mummies and the “Curse of Tutankhamun”, but couldn’t it be done in a more interesting way? It’s Maria Grazia’s spin on Ancient Greece all over again. Now I get how how the I imagine very niche subsection of people who are into fashion and Julius Caesar (okay, so I don’t even know if they still believed in mythology and all that malarky at that point in history but just roll with my comparison here) might’ve felt going through Vogue Runway. Anyway, I hate to end on a critical note and so be clear, these are still absolutely magnificent dresses. If we ignore those ugly round necklines, that is.

So that’s it for this post! If you read part 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know your opinions and feel free to disagree. I’m literally just about to start trawling through all the A/W 2020 RTW collections though I imagine that’s gonna take me way longer to do than this, so I wouldn’t expect that for a month or two. In the meantime, I’m trying to fit shooting a Euphoria-inspired lookbook into my days off work which is looking atm like it’s going to be the end of March, so look out for that, and also a review of the red carpet fashion from this season’s award shows.

As ever, thank you so much for reading and again, thank you for the reception on part 1 if you were one of the people that read it. It makes staying up til 3am with the jitters seem worthwhile, lol!

Lauren x

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years

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If you're caught in the shadow then turn around Lost in the darkness, you will be found If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home

Gladiator’s Seventh Anniversary

March 26th swings by once more, and this time I’ve been celebrating this milestone for nearly a whole month :’D We have twenty Gladiator-arcs-themed artworks by now, and here’s our grand finale! A little more grand than every anniversary up to date, I hope!

This particular entry comes in two forms, however! And here’s the second one:

youtube

Say hello to the FIRST GLADIATOR ARTWORK VIDEO! :’D

Yeah, it wasn’t always meant to be the first xD I have two other videos in the works, and one of them is at least over halfway done (with rudimentary animation in it too :’D). Still, this occasion demanded it! And so I decided to go for a video this time, hopefully the next videos won’t take too long to finish!

This hasn’t been an easy year for me, despite I’ve certainly written a lot of things I’m reeeally happy about (that you guys will be seeing later this year). Quite often I’ve found myself losing traction, hope, faltering against many obstacles in my life. I’ve made big and small mistakes here and there, and I’ve had low points, even if none quite as low as the one I hit two years ago...

Still, at the end of the day, this story has always had my back in its own way. I’ve been able to find peace by writing it, even in the darkest of moments. Going over all the progress I’ve made with it, and looking ahead at everything that’s yet to come often fills me with the willpower and strength I need to keep going, no matter what. So, after a year of blackouts, water shortages, internet collapses, countless setbacks with my real-life plans and now even a pandemic, Gladiator has always been the safest harbor I can find refuge in when everything else fails.

This big finale is, of course, meant to encapsulate the growth of Sokka and Azula’s relationship throughout the first half of Part 2. At first I had wanted to draw scenes from each arc I had skipped... but that didn’t quite work out as well as that after I revisited a certain movie, which features a BRILLIANT OST, and it had two songs that I’ve now poached outright for Gladiator purposes :’D Strange Sight is a song that really works well for Sokka and Azula in general (from Sokka’s POV), but the bulk of the song really sounds more like it fits these two in Part 1 xD yet the very conclusion of the song changes its tone... and that’s the part that inspired me into making this video/artwork set!

The first scene depicted is Azula’s “blunder”, when she nearly admits she loves Sokka despite not being ready to say it out loud. He is thrilled, but she’s very flustered, so he gives her space while she blushes stubbornly in her Barge’s cabin (?). The second artwork comes from a scene I always wanted to depict in art, even while I was writing it: Azula watching Pohuai Stronghold at a distance while Sokka is enthralled, looking at her (even blurts out she’s beautiful because he’s a goofball like that xD). The third scene comes from their escapade to the healing hot springs, on the same chapter Sokka gives Azula her secret betrothal necklace. The fourth scene is the crazy kiss these two steal in the airship factory, when they lose sight of Ozai’s retinue and make out amidst the factory equipment, steam and whatnot rising around them... because that’s just the stuff they like to do xD The fifth scene is taken from their chaotic anniversary arc, once they had already patched things up and were drying each other’s hair with towels... Azula dried Sokka, his hair was a disaster afterwards and she laughed her ass off while he did his best to take revenge xD the sixth scene depicts a much darker moment, Azula using her gold fire to fight back against Seethus, underground (not sure if it shows, but clutching Sokka’s hand is what allowed her to use gold fire properly in the midst of such a desperate situation. And the seventh scene is meant to portray Azula in that arc too, after she has rebelled against her father and takes off with Sokka, putting more distance between herself and Ozai than ever before...

The final one isn’t really derived from a particular scene of the fic, instead it’s the image I always get of these two when I hear the end of that song. “You’re not alone” is definitely one of the most important things Azula needs and deserves to hear. Though it’s not only for her to hear it... it’s for her to know for sure that it’s true, that she has a partner who will stand by her through thick and thin, to the ends of the world if need be. That no matter how bad things can get, she knows he’s on her side and always will be.

It has taken quiiiite a while to develop their bond and relationship to this extent, but I have to say it has been such a wonderful process for me... as I’ve said in the past, Gladiator’s Part 1 was the story of how they get together, but Part 2 is the story of how things work now that they are together. There’s a strange, general perception of romance storytelling, and it even expands into IRL relationships, I’d say, that suggests, whether intentionally or not, that relationships stop developing, evolving, growing once they’re consummated. I don’t know if the fairytale “they lived happily ever after!” is to blame for that, but personally, I don’t see the point in watching a relationship be built up from the ground only to witness a brief glimpse of how it works before the curtain falls. That’s why Gladiator’s Part 2 has been the exact opposite of that. Both Azula and Sokka had a lot left to grow and develop after Part 1 was finished, their partnership did too, and there’s like a gazillion plotlines, new and old, that will be crucial in building up the biggest, baddest climax of the story so far. Therefore... I’d like to think my point has been made? You CAN tell a story about this side of a couple’s life together. Whether people stick around to read it is another subject, but if you’re working with a couple as dynamic as these two, getting them together is barely the first part of the journey.

I make it no secret that Part 2 is definitely my favorite chunk of the story, especially the chapters that are being published nowadays (and those that will be published in the future), so part of the reason why I went all out here is because I really, REALLY wanted to cherish everything this part of the story embodies for me and, hopefully, for everyone who has read and enjoyed it.

I deeply thank everyone who has stuck it out with me through this journey, no matter if you were here from the first moment or if you’re a newcomer who hasn’t even caught up yet. I’m also really grateful if you don’t know the story at all but still took your time to even drop a like on any of these posts. It has always been scary to be a creator on the Internet, both because of the potential backlash against what you do and, perhaps even worse than that, the indifference of people who don’t really care much about what you create, regardless of how much work you’ve put into it, and how much you’ve grown so you can make new ideas a reality. But there’s people out there, really wonderful people, who have always been supportive of my crazy creative efforts, always sticking by me no matter how difficult it could be (and no matter how long this story gets :’D). I’m far from a perfect content creator, and sometimes I get discouraged by the stupidest things... but when you guys show interest in what I do, when you say how much the story means to you, it never fails to revitalize me and get me going once again.

So this big celebration is for those of you who stick by me, who support me, who encourage me at my lowest and highest alike because you believe in me and the story I’ve been telling for SEVEN YEARS NOW :’D It’s also for those who may yet return to see what mayhem I’ve crafted for these two in the years since they stopped reading. And it’s, without a doubt, for myself... because now I’m certainly far more confident with my art than ever before, and because everything I make for these two gives me all the right feels just when I need them. Finally... it’s for Sokka and Azula, most of all. The two sides of my beloved OTP, who have been by far the most inspiring characters I’ve ever worked with, and who deserve the entire world, as far as I’m concerned. Granted, I’m a jerk and I won’t make things easy for them in the coming years... but we all know they can be stronger and prevail! At least, I hope you all believe that as well as I do xD

So, as always, here’s to you, my supportive readers, to these wonderful protagonists, and to the story that chronicles their many adventures on their way to changing the world, as they always have meant to! Thanks to all of you for your support, and keep an eye out for Gladiator’s next update, dropping tomorrow!

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insanityclause · 4 years

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Ah, Tom Hiddleston, how I have loved thee from afar all my life. Well, not all my life, just from the first Thor movie. From that first moment I saw Loki’s villainous visage, I was a goner. However, it isn’t my love for Hiddleston that has me so enraptured by this production (though that is a factor) of Coriolanus, it is the minimalist set, the contemporary costumes despite the Shakespearean dialogue, and the wonderful performances by everyone involved.

Coriolanus isn’t one of Shakespeare’s famous plays. His political plays have never gained as much traction as his tragedies, and even among the political ones, people mostly remember King Richard III. I studied Coriolanus back in university, and while I remember it, it certainly didn’t make the impact it has on me now.

The production relies on a very minimalist set, a small square of space, with chairs, ladders, bodies and other props evoking the space we are supposed to be in. They create a space of war with a ladder, sound effects, and an immersive sword fight between Hiddleston’s Caius Marcius and Hadley Fraser’s Tullus Aufidius; daughter-in-law and mother-in-law sewing together immediately evokes the home space – this production is proof that you don’t need an elaborate set to stage a Shakespearean play, even one about war. We still get the theatrics of war, like after Marcius’ ravaging of the Volscian army, Hiddleston emerges with blood dripping down his face and we are forced to witness his wounds as he strips and waters pours down from above him – we see the toll war wreaks on a man.

Despite his contributions to Rome, the citizens of Rome are angry that he doesn’t seem to want to do what they need him to, feeling that he makes fun of them and doesn’t take their traditions seriously. Marcius reveals his fatal flaw here, for while he is a tremendous general and warrior, he is not adept at politics. He doesn’t know how to speak to the people, his contempt leaking into his tone as he addresses them, and through the instigation of the tribunes Brutus and Sicinius (who are deliciously villainous), he is banished from Rome. Despite the attempts of Menenius Agrippa and Cominius to convince the people to change their minds, the path is set, and Marcius is forced to leave a country that he has loved and defended his whole life, a space which contains the people he has loved his whole life.

A special appreciation needs to be given for Mark Gatiss, who plays Menenius. Gatiss conveys Shakespeare’s dialogue in such a modern and easeful way. While many actors get caught up in yelling his words for dramatic effect, Gatiss makes his gestures, mannerisms count. I was watching the play with subtitles because you can often get lost on the Shakespearean dialogue train, but Gatiss made it easy for me to comprehend. Tom Hiddleston was of course stellar, as per usual. He had to toggle with the emotional poignancy required of his role, as well as channel the ferocious zeal of a warrior, and he did so with aplomb. Hadley Fraser was perhaps the most surprising one of the lot. The last I saw Fraser, he was playing Raoul in Phantom of the Opera, and he is simply unrecognisable in this as Aufidius, the general of the Volscian army.

His relationship with Marcius is a compelling one. Every single time he has met the man on the battlefield he has longed to kill him, yet when Marcius visits his home, Aufidius calls him “thou noble thing” and admits when he sees him that his “rapt heart” dances. There is a spiritual love shared between the two men, because in all the world, they are the ones who truly understand each other due to being in spaces of war. Aufidius allows Marcius to become general in his stead, in order to take revenge on the people of Rome for having banished him. But after a visit from his mother and family, Marcius changes his mind, choosing the route of peace instead of laying siege to Rome like he was supposed to.

Aufidius calls him out for treason and hangs his body in chains, and we actually see Hiddleston’s body hoisted up into the air, dangling from the chains, being gutted in front of us. And on the other side of the stage, we see his mother with flower petals strewn all around her – it is a mother’s triumph and a loss, for she convinced him to save his countrymen, but lost him in the process. Rome’s treatment of Marcius made me think of the way a country treats its soldiers: we want them to fight our wars for us, but when they return to civilian spaces and cannot adapt accordingly, we cast them off and abandon them.

Marcius aka Coriolanus didn’t need to suffer such a fate, and even though it’s his feelings for his mother and family that led to his death, it is a testament that war isn’t the only thing a man breathes. There is a complexity here in how the play portrays the identity of men, that there is more for them than the masculine spaces they are told to inhabit. Coriolanus’ tragedy is the result of him not being what everyone else wanted him to be, to offer sweet words when he does not mean them, to parade his wounds around like some clown at a party. But quite a bit of this comes from hubris and a sense of entitlement, the sense that he does not need to care about the opinions of the citizens because he belongs to a class of men who are born to rule. There is a commentary here about democracy and the state, and Coriolanus’ failure to see that war is not the only thing that defines a country.

This, for me, is the true art and impact of theatre, with National Theatre showing us that you can take a play from the 16th century and make it a relevant viewing for modern day audiences. What a feat, what a triumph.

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pbandjesse · 3 years

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I honestly cant believe today it over. The last couple days just really flew by. It was a good couple days but this just means I start my new job tomorrow! Wild.

I did get to see the moon last night. The way the moon path goes I can lay in bed around 11 and see the moon for almost an hour. Its great.

And I did sleep well. The extra hour of sleep was very nice. And while I didnt wake up at 715 like I wanted, waking up at 9 allowed me to feel a lot better. Though I was sad I only vaguely remembered saying goodbye to James.

I got up and got showered and dressed. My skin is looking great and I only have a few more days of the one. So I wont have to shower so much anymore. I will probably still take the double showers some days, but its a little exhausting honestly.

I felt cute and good today though. I liked my outfit. I love wearing tights. It was rainy and grey and I was just in a good mood.

I spent the morning playing animal crossing and starting to post on the new store instagram. I am pretty excited. I have already made 3 sales. Jess may back out of the whole thing. There have been some technical issues and she just doesnt really want to deal with it. But I am having a good time at least. I am going to post a few things every day for the next few weeks and make things as I go. But so far I have had great feedback.

I had a good time playing animal crossing too because its a new month! Last night when James got home we played together for the first time in a while and doing all the halloween stuff was fun. Handing out candy and things. But now halloween is over, so I am picking up most of the pumpkins, in favor of the new mushrooms you can grow. I am going to leave the decorations up for a while longer as we collect more christmasy things. But I am excited by new things so thats pretty great.

Around 11 I decided to go for a drive. It was raining but not to bad. But of course as soon as I left the house it started pouring. I went back upstairs to get a raincoat and then I was off.

As I waited at the light to get on the highway, a homeless man asked for change. I did not have change so I gave him the $5 bill I had and he was super nice to me. We talked for a minute while the light was red. Someone had shot him with a paintball gun last night. I felt so bad. Then he asked me where I was from because I had an accent! I always think thats funny when people say that. James says I have a dialect for sure, and its my diction as well. Neat.

I went out to savers. Driving was a bit scary. Despite all the work on the car, the little traction light is still coming on. Ugh. But I made it to the thrift store in one piece.

I had a nice time walking around there. I got an amazing lobster rug and a piece of fabric. But the best find was for James. I finally found slippers for him! Except they arent just slippers, they are grey name brand Uggs. For $10. And they fit him! Amazing. So proud of myself for that one.

I wandered around for a while though. Enjoyed my time out. Not as many weird things today. But a nice walk around.

When I was done there I went and got lunch across the street. Continued to listen to a podcast. And then went to get some snack based groceries.

That was a nice time. Thinking about things to put in my lunch this week. Had fun looking at the christmas stuff they are starting to put out.

I was only very annoyed when I went to my car. Because the cart I was using locked its wheels about 30 feet from my far!! I was still in the parking lot!! Stupid cart. I had to put it in the little cart shelter and then carry all my stupid things to the car. In the rain. So then I was both wet and hot.

I drove home. Had some issues because of 3 separate accidents that had 83 very very backed up. Making single lanes each time, but of course it was not in the same lane.

But I still got home soon enough.

I brought in some of my stuff. Left the heavy things in there. And did some putting away. Some cleaning. Some playing with sweetp. Helping Jess with some google issues and working on some store stuff. I got a little upset by a comment she made about how she would have given up a while ago if I wasnt so excited about the store. And like. Yeah Ive felt that from you. I told her she didnt need to do it with me, but she said she has made a lot of masks already so shes going to. But like. It makes it hard for me to feel good about being excited about something when someone says stuff like that. So I dont know what will happen on her end but I am going to keep going and try to not let it bother me.

I decided to go for a walk. I went over to walgreens and got nail polish. And when I got home James was here! Hello boyfriend.

We hung out for a while. And then he made me a taco. Except when he heated up the tortilla, sweetP jumped on the counter and melted his whiskers and got his face singed. I was so upset. He doesnt seem hurt at all but his face was all curly and his chin and chest are burnt. I trimmed it a bit and cleaned him off with a wet paper towel. Im more upset when he is for sure. But still.

James felt really bad. But it wasnt anyone's fault. It all just happened really fast.

After dinner James had trivia. I decided not to participate this week. Instead I decided to cut my hair. I put it in two pig tails and chopped off 4 inches of hair. I got a cute bob now. Very nice for the fall.

Once I finished cleaning up my hair I took a bath. Relaxed. It was a nice time.

I laid in bed and watched videos for a while. Then went to sit with James as the game was finishing and Lane recited Dante's amazing parody poem. And we showed off our moths. It was a goofy time.

Now I am in bed. I am cold. James is in the shower. I am going to put a differnt sweater on and try to get to sleep quick. Because I have work tomorrow!! I dont know if I will actually have any kids. But my plan is to get to know my coworkers and set up some art bins for the kids so they dont have to share tools. I hope we eventually get some kids but not having any tomorrow will be alright. I got plans.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of yourselves and eachother. Goodnight!

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