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#Laura watches Promising Young Woman
lauralot89 · 2 years
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In Which I Compare a Movie I Didn’t Like to a Movie I Did
so I’ve mentioned previously that I saw Men and found it immensely underwhelming, which was disappointing to me for three reasons: One because it’s a horror movie and I tend to love those, two because it’s an A24 movie and I have high expectations for those, and three because it’s the same director as Ex Machina so again my expectations were high
I’ve been trying to figure out what I found so disappointing about it, considering that Men deals with themes I find incredibly important and timely and usually movies having all the subtlety of a boot to the head isn’t an issue for me, a lot of my favorite films are heavy-handed as fuck
So I’m going to compare Men to Promising Young Woman to explain my issues with it.  Is that fair, considering the former film is an art house folk horror set in the UK and the latter is a mainstream thriller dealing with the US legal and educational institutions?
probably not but I’m doing it anyway
spoilers for both films under the cut
So Men is a movie about a recent widow, Harper, whose abusive former husband either deliberately or accidentally fell to his death after threatening to kill himself if Harper divorced him and saying it would be her fault. Some time after his death, she rents a house to take a holiday, where she encounters multiple unsettling men who all have the same face.
Promising Young Woman is about a woman named Cassie whose friend Nina took her own life after being raped in college and neither the university nor the legal system taking it seriously.  Cassie spends her nights pretending to be blackout drunk in bars and then confronting the men who take her home to try and take advantage of her.  When she finds out Nina’s rapist is now engaged, she sets out to take revenge.
Neither film is subtle.  Every line of dialogue Harper’s husband has might as well be out of the Abusive Spouse 101 textbook, and every man she exchanges dialogue with from there manages to be blatantly sexist in each conversation, albeit each in different ways (from benign, paternalistic misogyny to “it’s your fault your husband died because how dare you be angry he hit you”). Similarly, almost every conversation Cassie has in Promising Young Woman is straight out of Victim Blaming and Rape Apologetics for Dummies.
So why does one movie work for me when the other doesn’t?  You might say it’s because they set out to accomplish separate things, with one being surreal horror and one being a revenge thriller.  You might say it’s because they have very different tones.  But I think it boils down to this:
For me, Men feels like a movie that was made for men.
To be clear, everything Harper experiences - abuse, sexism, stalking, victim blaming, assault, harassment, a useless legal system - is real.  Even if an individual woman has not experienced those things, the potential for them is still always in the background radiation of our lives.  And I’m not even saying a movie like this being directed at men is a bad thing.  If it gets them to understand and hopefully stand against the shit women deal with, good.
But for me, Men feels very much like the male director decided to make a movie about the female experience and then did so on the most surface of levels, with more interest being taken in the symbolism than the story.  (Yes, I understood the symbolism.  I get it.  The Green Man.  Seed.  Fertility.  Adam and Eve.  Sheela na gig.  Agamemnon and Clytemnestra.  Leda and the swan.  Odysseus and the sirens.  I get it.  That doesn’t mean the movie is good.)
If you weren’t really aware of the experience of Being a Woman in a Patriarchal Society then I’m sure this is all very disturbing and unsettling, but meanwhile I was just sat in the theater annoyed that she was still in this town because no woman would have stayed after finding a naked man stalking her and peering through her windows.  Which, yes, if she didn’t stay there’d be no movie but they could have at least invented a reason she couldn’t leave.  Yes, congratulations movie, this is some stuff women deal with.  I guess I feel seen.  I mostly feel bored.
At one point when she’s off in the woods in nature finding herself after getting out of this stifling abusive relationship then she finds a tunnel (do you get it) and goes inside and is smiling and happy for the first time in the movie (do you get it) until a scary man shows up (do you get it) and then she runs away and later when she comes back to the tunnel it’s sealed off (do you get it). 
And then at the end one creepy man gets pregnant and births another creepy man who births another creepy man and so on because trauma begets trauma and toxic masculinity begets toxic masculinity and all the men look the same because once a woman has been traumatized by one man she can never really know by looking which men are a threat and which aren’t and I GET IT, this doesn’t need to drag on forever, the lead actress was I think supposed to look done with this male bullshit but she just looked as bored as I felt
how was this under two hours it felt like I was there for years
Harper doesn’t feel as much like a character as a blank figure for shitty men in the cast to project onto.  Cassie feels real.
And Promising Young Woman felt like a movie for women.  Yes, there was a lot along the way that a clueless dude could watch and come away with “Wow, I never thought about how shitty that is before” and that is great, but Promising Young Woman doesn’t treat sexism and rape culture as if it in and of itself is shocking.  It’s just the facts of the world which enable the plot.  It also showcases multiple women who engage in the same behavior and do just as much damage as sexual assailants.  It was written and directed by a woman and that shows.  It feels true and real to me in a way that Men does not.
You might say that Promising Young Woman is the more “made for men” film considering that Cassie wins in the end, which we all know doesn’t happen in real life, but she “wins” by dying.  No one cared about Nina.  They needed a corpse directly tied to the rapist for him to face consequences.  And apparently, the original draft of the story didn’t have him face consequences at all.  Which is soul-wrenching, but very real, and very much a story a woman would tell.
I guess this is my way of saying watch Promising Young Woman, it’s very good.  Very sad, very good, very real.
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thenightwolf51 · 7 months
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"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.
(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)
Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.
He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.
But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.
What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.
He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.
In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.
Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.
And he does.
He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.
He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.
Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.
The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.
And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.
Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.
Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.
Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.
And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.
(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)
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billiedeansbitch · 1 year
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𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏]
𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary: Larissa was compelled to use her annual leave to take care of her nieces for five days; what she wasn’t expecting was that an unnecessarily attractive baby-sitter would be accompanying her as well. 
a/n: The Bouchards are original characters.
warning/s: none for this chapter.
Next part >>
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Sunday afternoon, the Bouchard’s family car halted in their driveway, a woman in her early forties exited from the passenger’s side as the kids—Tory and Laura, came bolting out of the door and running toward the woman, engulfing her thighs with their dainty, but strong arms. Enamoured, the woman kissed their foreheads, gently stroking their backs with her soft-looking palms.
Mr. Bouchard—or Adam, as he insistently told you to call him, hauled two suitcases from the trunk, both were no less elegant as the tall woman who exudes a promising character, with the finest, breath-taking, blue eyes. The gods had been so kind to her.
The children peeled themselves off of her as per their mother's request to let the woman breathe, which then was dismissed by the woman with a wave of her hand and let the children pamper her with delightful hugs. They surely loved her.
Bewitched, you couldn’t help but wonder in between Mr and Mrs Bouchard, was the one related to the woman. It was hard to gamble, none of them had any resemblance with her, not with the nose, not the eyes—they all had brown eyes and all brunettes…
Registering Mrs Bouchard’s voice, you snapped from reverie that caught you, “Yes?” she beckoned you to her side. With the little amount of time you took your eyes off her, you were surprised to see the woman was already by the door with the kids clinging on both of her sides, offering a pleasant smile.
Mrs Bouchard took the courtesy and introduced you to the other woman and vice versa. After exchanging pleasantries you offered to take her coat.
“It’s okay. Here, let me help.” Truly, your motive was to innocently help her discard the coat. However, you were attacked at the moment of weakness when the expanse of pale, supple skin made an impression on your eyes. Your mouth gaped at the appetizing sight. She wore a green sleeveless dress, flaunting a good amount of skin that your eyes drink fairly well.
Larissa, who was very much aware of your lingering gaze, cleared her throat and handed her coat over, “Thank you,” and you dismissed yourself, taking her coat, which you secretly inhaled as it was rich with her scent. And your heart clenched in response to the smell. It was new to your nose, smelling of fresh cut flowers and vanilla, with some hint of peach…
While the family started to welcome their guest, you busied yourself tidying the toys the children had played with prior to their Aunt’s arrival. From time to time, your eyes would wander, seeking for the silver-haired woman, it was a challenge not to, her presence seemed to demand attention, your attention specifically.
As an unfamiliar flutter called for your attention, your cheeks consequently warmed. You hadn’t been this engrossed over a person in so long, and while it appeared to be exciting, it also felt melancholic. A woman of her age would certainly not bat an eye at you, you looked young, inexperienced, out of her league. It was never going to work out.
Later, while the children were keeping their Aunt occupied, the wife and husband went about every nook and cranny of their house, checking what else they have missed for their four day vacation in the Bahamas and you watched them dizzily as you munched your sandwich in the breakfast nook.
Panting, Renata Bouchard stopped by, steadying herself by the table, her other hand squeezing your freehand, “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this at the last minute. I owe my life to you.”
A soft, sincere smile appeared on your lips, “It’s no big deal. I love watching your kids.” And watching their aunt…
Renata couldn’t help herself but pull you into a hug. It was awkward but no less genuine.
“Honey! It’s five! We have to go! We don’t want to miss our plane!” Mr Bouchard yelled somewhere in the house.
“Will you fetch the kids and Larissa, sweetheart?”
-
While the parents struggled with goodbyes, it was also evident that they couldn’t wait and get in the damned car and leave.
When the car disappeared from your eye-line, the kids had long gone and retreated to their own rooms doing God-knows-what that was keeping them entertained. 
A voice bloomed in the background.
“Do you really not speak much?” Larissa spoke with a playful bite in her tone, arching her sculpted brow.
In surprise, your body jolted. You had thought she went inside as well.
“You have seem to render me speechless is all”
“Goodness, tell me it isn’t because I intimidate you, dear.”
You gave her a smile with sheer confidence to deceive her into thinking you weren’t burning with desire and said, “No, not at all, Ms Weems.” As if.
You didn’t know how you broke the eye contact, but you did and walked past her, aiming straight for the kitchen with your poor heart beating so fast. And without another word, you started making dinner.
She didn’t follow. Thank God. But as the pasta boiled and the sauce and meatballs were nearly cooked, Larissa appeared. Before the smile that was quite fixated there already, get you distracted, you shield your eyes away and focus on steering the sauce.
“That smells delicious.” Larissa was standing right behind you now, hovering, if she ever so desired to lean her body forward, her front would have touched yours and your body would have burned from the contact. Lucky you she maintained a tiny space, perfect to torture you.
With clenched jaw, you turn, carefully so as you were mindful of how thin the gap was between the two of you. She looked down at you, “Do you mind?” She wanted to taste it.
“Please, help yourself.” Expecting her to grab a spoon from the drawer, Larissa decidedly not to and just wrapped her hand around yours to lift the wooden spoon and guide it to her mouth catching you off guard. She blew a couple times before tasting the red sauce and licked her lips.
Larisa made a sound, making it known that she liked it, “This might be the best spaghetti sauce I’ve ever tasted in a while.”
You felt her withdraw her hand, and you intently watched it settle on the blade of your shoulder, her thumb affectionately stroking over the skin where the hem of the sleeve just ended.
“T-thank you.”
She smiled one last time—although if you stared longer you would have convinced yourself it was a smirk—before leaving the kitchen, and said something about getting the kids ready for dinner.
A long exhale escaped your lips, your shoulders sagging, unaware of how tensed they were until now. You took a pause, supporting yourself as you grip on the edge of the counter, trying to collect yourself as much. She took a lot from you, the very little time she had you practically trapped between the stove and her body, had drained you.
Your gaze fell on your right hand, the skin still tingled from her touch. Did she know what she was doing to you? Was it deliberate? Because if so, you were willing to play with her, whatever game it was in her head, you would dutifully play the part she wanted you to even if it included acting dumb.
Dinner went civil. The girls enjoyed the spaghetti and meatballs without a fuss. You kept yourself collected. She kept her tricks all to herself. Every once in a while, you two would eye each other and just harmlessly smile, trying to see which of you would break first. It was a fun night.
After Larissa guided both twins to clean their hands, Laura spoke, “Auntie, can you read to us before we sleep?”
From the sink you watched her crouched to their level, “Anything for my munchinks,” Something about the woman’s lively, blue eyes made you wish they were looking at you with the same dose of affection she was giving the siblings, her red lips curving into a smile. Your heart almost ached for some bit of her warmth.
The adoration only strengthened at this point, and you knew it would only fiercely grow each and every time she would show off her billion-dollar smile.
You watched the trio disappear in the twins’ bedroom, you chose to stay behind despite the ridiculous longing you felt, giving them the time to bond with each other as it was crucial for Larissa’s first night with the kids and you weren’t going to take that away from her. You didn’t want to be on her bad side.
-
It was still early in the night, only ten minutes past nine and the twins were already asleep without any commotion at all. When Larissa returned with a proud gleam in her eyes, sauntered toward the kitchen to rummaged for some liquid courage, hoping it would spark a nice chat with you. And that was when her eyes found a note on the counter.
“Be right back. Just getting some stuff next door.” It read. The corners of her mouth twitched upward.
When Renata divulged the piece of information to her that you would be staying to help her around with the children before they left, she was more elated with the idea than the other woman anticipated. You looked like a nice companion, although you weren’t entirely there for her own benefit, but still having another grown up around would make this whole experience less nerve-wrecking.
And she nearly cursed when her eyes landed on what she described as an unnecessarily attractive baby-sitter and a very intriguing one at that.
-
Earlier when the kids’ father was pacing around the house looking for his damn keys, Renata told you he was supposed to have already left half an hour ago to the airport to pick up the kids’ aunt. You didn’t know why you expected an old, mean lady, hunched with greying hair wearing a dress and a cardigan combo. Perhaps the way he sweat and paced like he was losing his balls made you think that.
And then surprise, bomb drop, it was a stunning woman with gorgeous red lips. A woman who was dizzyingly attractive with an impressive stature, her elegance called for attention, and it effortlessly captured yours. Fucking hell, Renata absolutely skipped that part.
When your overnight backpack was ready, you left the house, lip worrying between your teeth and hands in your pockets.
The front door opened, Larissa was already settled, sitting on the long couch with her long legs crossed, they were clad in her skin toned tights, you noticed. Her feet were freed from her heels and curling from the cold of the night. She was much more relaxed, more approachable and casual.
“There you are, come and join me, sweetheart.”
Her gaze danced around your legs, finding it hard to keep her eyes off of the skin that your shorts were flaunting. It was a riveting sight. But she urged herself to gather some decency and look away.
The soft glow of the lamps hid the blush on your cheeks quite well. You sat opposite her, “Let me pour you some.” She had a smile curling on her lips.
“So, tell me about yourself, dear. What do you do when you’re not babysitting my nieces?”
“I’m a part time college instructor. I work on Tuesdays and Fridays and sometimes I cover for other professors.” So you were a teacher…
She handed you the glass, you gladly accepted. It causes your fingers to brush against each other.
“Fascinating…and what do you teach?
“Philosophy.” A beat of silence.
Larissa shifted in her seat, somehow it caused her dress to bunch up, giving more sight of her thighs. She cleared her throat, “So, are you married? What’s the deal with you? I can’t seem to read you.”
It made you flushed. “I’ve no husband.” She arched her brows, unbelieving. “A boyfriend perhaps?”
You shook your head. The tension only thickened. “No men.” Larissa knew what you were trying to point out. With a satisfied hum, you saw a fleeting smirk on her lips before she drank the remaining of her wine.
From the visible curiosity in your eyes Larissa tilted her head to the side and said: “What is it you want to ask?”
It prompted your eyes to look into her piercing gaze, “How about you?” pertaining to her status.
“Married.” You felt your finger grow cold right then, breath caught in your throat. “To my job.” She finished.
If you were right, and listened very well, this person here was an esteemed Principal of an outcast academy in Vermont. It all made sense with her posture, the authority in her voice, and her allure—which you were yet to find out if it was because she was an outcast herself or it was naturally all her.
And suddenly, you thought what kind of an outcast she was, but you decided against asking, feeling you’d be imposing.
When silence befallen, you took it as a cue to speak your mind about something that had been worrying since having been left alone with the woman, “I hope you are not offended by my presence. I’m not sure what you were expecting but I’m sure as hell I was not included in the picture yet here I am.”
“Oh no, not at all. Actually it’s quite the contrary. I’m absolutely delighted to have extra hands to help with the kids as I am no mother myself.”
You pressed yourself further into the seat and muttered: “I’m pleased to hear that.” Pleased to which part exactly?
Many glasses later, your eyes could finally roam around without shame, and you started saying things like, “You’re so beautiful.” But mostly they were whispers you meant to keep only to yourself but she heard of them and blushed in response to your kind affection. And you were aware of the unconcealed looks she gave.
So maybe if you tell her now that you find her fascinating and attractive, she would smile at you and tell you she liked you, ending whatever the on-going game was. And then your eyes would linger to her lips, she would ask if she could kiss you and you would nod with trembling urgency to feel her mouth. She would then close the gap and you would be kissing under moonlit night, the bottle of wine forgotten in the coffee table.
The whole idea of it was so tempting. But it wasn’t easy to do. Not even when you were wine drunk.
Now you felt like you were fooling yourself. “It’s getting late, I should go.”
You got up, smoothing your clammy palms over the denim that clung to your thighs. “If you need anything, the room I’ll be staying in is only next to yours.”
Larissa wanted to bid you a good night kiss, so she attempted to stand up but suddenly felt unsteady on her feet, “Oh, careful.” Your body moved close, ready to catch her if she were to lose balance.
Now, you couldn’t leave this woman alone here, could you? “I think I should take you to your bed first.”
She hummed, agreeing to your proposal. Larissa was a silent drunk, she only hummed and nodded, considerably cooperative, too. You got back with a full glass of water and a tablet so she could take care of her headache in the morning.
It felt like hours of being rooted on the floor, on stand-by in case she needed anything more, and then you finally snapped, concluding that Larissa had quietly fallen asleep.
Much to your dismay, there was no accidental kissing that happened.   
“Good night, Larissa.” You finally said, and walked away.  
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princeescaluswords · 4 months
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Currently thinking of certain factions of fandom who tend to demonize Laura Hale. What exactly did she do that was so awful?
Leaving her injured and catatonic uncle in a care facility? Do they think he would've miraculously healed in New York if she brought him along (if that was even an option)? They seem to think she abandoned him or should've done more. What exactly, dear fandom?
Laura was a young woman who suffered a devastating loss and had to be the leader and look out for her younger brother and injured uncle. Cora was assumed dead too. Similar to Scott, she didn't ask to be alpha.
What did they expect her to do? Wage war against the perpetrators? She didn't know who was involved but she did return when Peter lured her. Fandom thinks she was unfit for the role of alpha because she wasn't ripping throats out and hunting down culprits, that she ~abandoned~ her uncle in a vulnerable state, blah blah.
The way they get angry at Scott disobeying Peter and Derek, you'd think they'd be livid over Peter killing his alpha who was also his niece who was the ~heir~ to Talia. Sacrilege!
Scott didn't ~trust~ Stiles? Well, Petey didn't trust his alpha! Why the secrecy? Why not report in immediately upon gaining consciousness?
*dons the stylish hat of Fandom Logic* Oh, oh Peter was involved in the Hale Fire! He always craved the mantle of alpha and needed Talia out of the way. But he got betrayed by Kate in the end and locked in with the rest of the family. That's why he insisted he's always been the alpha, he was promised the power if he helped destroy the pack. It's why he lured Laura back and killed her instead of communicating, he just wanted the power.
Your question puts me in mind of an argument both This Discontented Winter and Athena Dark have made to counter my indictments of fandoms worship of Peter Hale. To paraphrase TDW, "does all entertainment have to be a morality play?"
The simplistic answer to their bad faith riposte, is "No, it doesn't." You can watch two people sit in a room and not talk to each other. You can watch art hang motionless on a wall or paint dry, but these wouldn't be particularly popular forms of visual entertainment. What excites an audience is how the actors, the characters, the players treat each other, which is governed by principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behavior. In other words, morality.
People watch the Real Housewives franchise because they want to watch rich women behaving badly. People watch John Wick movies because they want to watch ultra violence performed without regard for human life and instead operate on a different code of behavior. Telenovelas, true crime documentaries, space operas, super hero movies -- all the pleasure their audiences gain from it revolve around decisions people make about how to treat each other. They watch it FOR the morality -- or the LACK of it.
The only forms of modern entertainment I can think of that don't focus on morality are professional sports and talent shows, and both of these take it as a given that neither side is cheating. Even Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom proposed to show us the behavior of animals so we can recognize their beauty and right to exist. My apologies to the BNF, but that's morality, too.
When This Discontented Winter bemoans the idea of all entertainment as morality play and Athena Dark that storytelling doesn't have to have a message, what they are in fact arguing for is the ability to celebrate evil. To freely indulge in the type of moral equivocation that allows them to take pleasure in the triumph of a man murdering his niece for power. You know how I know this, because if they truly wanted to enjoy something without the moral dimension, they wouldn't go to such great lengths to protect their blorbos from any moral condemnation.
Thus, we get the idea that Laura deserved death because she abandoned Peter in the long-term care facility, in which he rested safely for six years without the Argents even being aware of his location. We get the idea that Laura deserved death because she didn't seek vengeance for her family, even though she was absolutely looking for the person responsible for the death of her family -- we saw actual physical evidence of it. Thus we get the idea that Peter had no idea what he was doing, that he was out of his mind, only to find out later -- when none of the other characters believe that anymore -- that he was aware of what he was doing all along.
Remember Master Plan (2x12):
Peter: No. It's a laptop. What century are you living in? A few days after I got out of the coma, I transferred everything that we had. Fortunately, the Argents aren't the only ones that keep records.
Wow, that's a remarkable amount of foresight for a person who was supposedly so out of his mind that he shouldn't be held responsible for what he did.
The true problem with BNF trying to argue that we don't have to approach the show with an eye toward morality is because the show absolutely did. It was baked into the substance of the show from the get go. The characters are formed to make choices about how they treat other people. To use their own words, we have to treat the entertainment that is called Teen Wolf as a morality play because it IS a morality play. Every story is.
And this is the problem with fandom, which I've noted again and again and again in regards to Star Wars, Shadow and Bone, and now Loki. They want to extract the characters from the moral schema in which they were situated and put them in a new situation, yet pretend that there isn't a moral dimension to this act. And there is, because this new situation is one where only certain considerations are treated as valid, mostly exploitation of the baser instincts of human nature for the benefit of a very small class of stand-ins, defined by race, class, and gender.
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bunnyscraft · 2 years
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ೃ࿐ Bambi Eyes ೃ༄
Dark !!Lee Bodecker x Reader pt2 (pt1 Here)
Summary: Reader wakes up to a confusing and unstable Lee.
Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking, cursing, Dom/sub undertones, some angst :( , dark lee, potential for dark reader??, violence, future smut: daddy kink, spanking, degradation kink, praise kink.
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The ride from the city to Knockemstiff was harsh. Trees blocking what was left of the roads but that didn’t stop Aunt Gillian from getting your out of that “hell hole of a city.” She was a woman on a mission to protect her niece and no damn tree or crack in the road would stop her.
Protection.
She often said you needed to be protected. She said you needed a lot of things.
- “y/n dear, you need a new lock!”
- “No no that dress is too short! You need a new one!”
- “What you need is a new apartment! I mean what nineteen year old girl lives by themselves? It’s borderline scandalous!”
You stood your ground for a while, deciding you’d much rather stay in the city your parents intended to raise you in before their passing…but things got hard.
- “Gill please…im fine” you’d tried to convince as a sobbed ripped through you that night. “I just have no clue what I need to do…my landlord said he’d give me a week b-but that’s n-not….”
- “Honey, I’ll be down there tomorrow first thing. You need family right now. Im so sorry sweetheart we’ll getcha through this I promise.”
You couldn’t help but agree with her for once. You did need family…or what little you had left. Even if it meant staying in the new, very small, town she herself had just moved into. She was old money, and while she’d offered to help with your rent, you’d always declined. Well now you had no choice.
When you’d arrived to knockemstiff you immediately felt uneasy. Everyone knew everyone’s business and everyone knew of the rich lady who lived on the hill, so word spread fast about her young niece moving to town.
- “don’t pay them any mind, honey. Not everyday they see a girl like you who isn’t knocked up or runnin’ away with some sticks boy.” She’d said in an attempt to make you feel better, though it was futile. The towns people had a new toy to gossip about and it seemed like it would be a while until another one came around.
So in the meantime you studied and you worked. Sure you didn’t have to work, your aunt hated the fact that her niece spent the majority of her time in a greasy dinner, but it made you feel normal. You even made a few friends. Sandy, your manager, taught you how to bake. Laura, a girl your age, had showed you the fun things to do around town and had a gift at making you laugh.
And then there was Arvin. He was a bit odd at first. Always stared a bit too long but never once did he make a crude comment towards you like the other men did. You even found yourself staring at him sometimes too. His hair was a pretty chocolate color and you admired his loyalty to his family.
But Arvin wasn’t him.
Sandy wasn’t him.
Laura wasn’t him.
While you enjoyed the company of all these people, no one ever made your heart spike like his did. No one’s gruff voice and demanding orders had ever went straight to your core like his had.
He was your boss’s brother. He was the law.
Worst of all he was so much older than you.
You’d seen him that day, outside the station on your way home, though you didn’t know he’d seen you too. You didn’t know he’d been watching for a while now.
And you definitely didn’t know that there were far worse things about him than his age.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
| Lee’s pov |
He could spend hours admiring your sleeping form. He actually had been admiring you for hours now. If lee was a stronger man…maybe he would have been able to look away from your delicate face. Or your plush thighs peeking out from under your pretty dress.
Fuck.
How could you have this much control over him? He was the one In control, always. It scared him that something like you could bring out a darker side from his already dark nature.
Something like you, who never cursed around customers.
Something like you who baked cherry pies for fun.
Something like you who….wore frilly blue panties?
He tore his eyes away from your body. Of course you wore cute underwear. Everything about you had to be cute and perfect.
He had to get out of this room. He couldn’t stare at your tempting frame anymore. Lee wanted you to be awake and willing during your first time with him. Though he doubted after the hit he landed to the side of your head that you’d be willing to even speak to him any time soon.
He made his way out of your new room, not before double locking the door behind him. Lee glanced at the clock. Shit. He was going to be late for work and he hadn’t slept a wink. His girl also needed to eat.
Fuck what did you like? He knew you had a sweet tooth but his girl couldn’t eat sugar first thing in the morning. Lee scrambled quickly around his kitchen, torn between being late for work and making a good meal for you.
You liked waffles right?
Shit what if you didn’t eat glutton? Eggs it is then.
He eventually made eggs and waffles after deciding you needed both. Maybe you’d forgive him for what he did if he made you a big breakfast, though he knew that was unlikely.
After unlocking your door he slowly made his way in. The room was small, it had to be for now, but he sparred no expense. The walls were a solid white, but adorned with pink and lavender decor. He took you as a pink kinda gal. To his right was a floor length mirror taking up half of the wall and to his left was a beautifully crafted dresser. The room had no closet and no bathroom attached to it and a very small bed with delicate white sheets. He felt bad keeping you in here instead of with him but it was necessary as this room was only temporary until he could trust you enough to move into his.
Your body hadn’t moved from its previous position, yet it still managed to take his breath away.
- “babydoll…” Lee hummed. “Cmon sweetheart you need to eat.” He pushed as he gently rubbed your cheek and set the tray of food on the nightstand. Your hands were cuffed together in front of your chest, though you were a smart girl. Lee knew you could still eat with them there…and if not he was more than willing to feed you himself.
Your breathing had picked up. He knew you were awake and he didn’t appreciate you pretending not to me.
- “open those little Bambi eyes, doll” he whispered as he picked your head up by the back of your hair, just enough to sting.
You opened your eyes slowly, too scared to see the man in front of you. He looked absolutely terrifying…and absolutely delicious.
And he held all the control.
- “aw there’s my pretty girl” he smirked as he patted your cheek. “You’re gonna eat and you’re gonna eat it all you hear me?”
His tone scared you. Why did he want you to eat so bad?
- “d-did y-you….” You stammered, finding it hard to let the words pass your lips.
- “did I what baby? Poison it?” He chuckled, until he looked into your very serious and very scared eyes.
- “no baby. no I did not poison it. You’re my best girl, babydoll. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
Never hurt you? He almost smashed your head in!
- “well I won’t have to hurt you, if you follow the rules. But I promise you’d enjoy it, sweet thing.” He said before throwing a wink your way.
His predatory gaze caused you to back up into the wall behind you. You needed distance from the crazed man. I should have listened to Gill.
- “are…are y-you gonna…k-kill m-me….” You asked as a little sob made its way up your throat.
It almost broke Lee’s heart.
He slowly inched his way towards you. His eyes were furious. you found yourself pushing further into the wall hoping it’d swallow you whole.
- “baby…let me make one thing clear.” He said before he roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to look up into his. - “you’re mine. you’re heart, your mind, and soon your body, will be all mine. Fuck I should punish you for going out with the Russell kid, but I know you’re just my dumb little baby, right?”
You were shaking. You didn’t know if you wanted him to take you or if you wanted him to drop dead. But his touch was intoxicating and you wanted it everywhere.
You must’ve looked spaced out as he tapped your cheek one more time. -“ s’okay sweet girl. you dont have to answer right away. You just need to eat” he spoke as he picked up the tray of food to set it in front of you.
- “eat baby. That’s all I need you to do okay?” He asked as his thumb played with your bottom lip. A sick part of you wanted to wrap your lips around it, yet you couldn’t find it in your body to respond him.
He sighed and stood up from his spot on your bed. - “…If you don’t it’ll be a long and Unenjoyable night, okay princess?”
silence passed as his ‘okay?’ Continued to hang in the air.
- “Answer me now.” He demanded as his jaw clenched.
- “o-okay….y-yes s-sir.” You squeaked out at his harsh tone. Nervousness overtaking your body.
A smile overtook his face at your response. - “such a good girl.” He mumbled before leaving an assertive and quick kiss to your forehead then turned, making his way out of the small room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
| Bambi’s pov |
You’d heard the locks. There had to be three and you seriously doubted you could break the door down before he got back.
Was Gill looking for me? She had to be worried sick.
How did Lee know about Arvin? You hadn’t told him about Arvin….right?
What is Lee planning on doing with me?
All these questions and more swarmed your head as your tried to understand the situation you were in.
But ‘Why did I still want him?’ was the scariest one.
————————————————————————
Bunny’s Notes: Oh my god I’m so in love with this guys!!!! Like even I’m read for what happens next. Oh my god like what’s gonna happen with Arvin??? And will Gill find out?? Most importantly when are Lee and his girl gonna fUck?!!
Thx so much for all the support! xoxo
Tag list🏷
@themotherofhorses @mgkbabygirl @yessirsargeantbarnes @thedarthpancakes @openup-yourmind @booksandbenbarnes @siriusjohnpotter / comment to me added <3
Ask are open 💌
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sunfyresrider · 1 year
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Rhaenyra
Imagine/AU
Summary: Alicent Hightower was lonely and depressed for most of her life living in the secluded manor in Styria. Until a mysterious woman appears who she swears she's seen before.
Warnings: Mature themes, blood, religion, vampires, nightmares Word Count: 2k Note: Literally the plot of Carmilla but with my favorite closeted lesbian. Also, I wasn't sure if I should label this an imagine or a headcanon sooo here we are.
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-Alicent Hightower had never truly felt frightened. Not when she was young and her mother died, she barely recalls it. Not when her father and her moved to a solitary yet picturesque castle in Styria. Not when she realized she would be forced to live in isolation, the nearest village was miles away. Not when a pack of wolves surrounded their carriage on their first trip to the manor. 
-Alicent had never truly felt fear until she was six years of age. She was in her bed tossing and turning unable to sleep. When the eerie feeling of being watched became too much, she pried her eyes open. A woman, the most divine woman she had ever laid eyes upon, stared at her from the edge of her bed. Her hair was stark white and nearly reached her hips. Her eyes were strikingly beautiful, violet orbs that pierced through Alicent’s very soul. It was a beautiful nightmare at first until her eyes wandered down her figure. 
-She moved slowly until she was at the edge of the bed and crawled her way next to Alicent. She was completely frozen in fear, unable to talk, breathe, move or even think. But she was gentle, softly combing the hair out of her face and whispering sweet nothings. It was so… Comforting. The threat of danger slipped out of her mind. A gentle kiss was pressed to her temple and she found herself being lulled back to sleep. It was the most peaceful night's sleep she had in months… Until the sensation of two sharp needles punctured into her breast awoke her. 
-She woke up, releasing a blood curdling scream, the girl in her room disappeared under the bed. The nurse-maid and her father came rushing in only to find her alone. They thoroughly checked her bed chambers and found nothing. No wound on her breast, no monster under the bed, just little Alicent in her bed. However, what he did not say was that the left side of her bed was warm to the touch… 
12 years later, Styria, Hightower Manor
-Alicent had grown accustomed to the solitude though it did not ease her loneliness. She had no friends, only her nurse-maid, father and neighbors from miles away who came and went. The monotony of her everyday life was slowly driving her up the wall. Truthfully, if she ever managed to meet a girl her age would she even be able to befriend her? She didn’t have enough experience talking to others to determine that. 
-Otto, her father, promised that one of their distant neighbors would be bringing his niece to come visit. He said they were the same age and promised they would get along… Except she never came, in fact she had died before she ever arrived. An unknown accident took place claiming her life, preventing a friendship from blooming. Alicent felt the gods may be punishing her for unknown reasons. 
-That same day though, Laura and her father spy a carriage coming toward them, but it crashes near their castle. They rush out to go and inspect the scene but all they find is a girl, Alicent’s she, fully unconscious. Alicent is over the moon that someone her age just crashed into her home. Finally, she might have a friend and her father agrees. She is beautiful too, ethereal almost, it would be a blessing to be able to keep her. 
-The nurse declares that the girl will be fine and will wake in a few days. Alicent spent nearly everyday visiting her chambers and patiently awaiting her to wake. She looks oddly familiar… Perhaps she had seen her in a distant memory. Maybe she was blessed with foresight like the witches… No, she was too religious for that. 
-Rhaenyra, that’s her name. It’s the first Alicent learns when the girl wakes up. The second is that she is the same girl from her nightmare all those years ago. No one could forget those violet eyes that pierced your soul. Rhaenyra quickly realizes she remembers Alicent too!  She had a similar dream but their roles were reversed. They decided it was fate and they were always meant to be friends. 
She’s completely awe-struck by her 
-Rhaenyra is nothing like any of the other girls Alicent had met. She is very open, warm and demonstrative with her affections. She is impressed by the way she carries herself, not many women of their day and age could do the same. In the back of her mind there is a tiny bit of repulsion, most likely caused by the misogyny around them. She purposely ignores it and lets the attraction overwhelm her. 
-They end up spending the majority of their time together, arms interlocked and bodies as close as possible. The gardens are their favorite place, Alicent reads her tales of old and Rhaenyra lays on her lap and pretends to listen. When the snow started to fall their outings became less and less until one day Nyra dragged her out into a far corner of the woods. She looked like a goddess compared to the lush white snow that surrounded her, Rhae’s silver hair blending in with the snowflakes. It was there they shared their first kiss, 
-Alicent quickly learns that Rhaenyra has some odd habits about her, locking her dock from the inside, not waking up until the afternoon, and becoming fatigued randomly. She also has an extreme passion for Alicent that no one else had before. She kisses and grasps her constantly, once they got in trouble and were forbidden to do it again but that didn’t stop Rhaenyra. It wasn’t ladylike and Alicent was told it wasn’t normal but she couldn’t help but return the affection. 
-Rhaenyra doesn’t tell anyone much about her. She never answers where she came from, quickly changing the subject whenever brought up. When they go to church Rhaenyra never prays, though she claims to be baptized. On a few occasions she voiced her annoyance at the peasants praising god and singing hymns. She is superstitious, purchasing a charm from a traveling hunchback against the vampire in the region and forcing Alicent to wear it. 
-Otto eventually realizes Rhaenyra is descended from the Targaryens. An ancient, rich, noble, and incestuous family with very defining features. This only makes more sense when a portrait from across the sea is brought to the manor revealing Countess Naehyra, a distant relative with striking similarities to the girl. It didn’t matter, their lineage was nearly extinct anyway and they held no titles anymore. 
-Eventually, news spreads to the manor speaking of deaths of young girls in the area. All of which are similar to the girl who Otto promised would be Alicent’s friend. It was concerning to say the least, so he had both young girls confined to the land in which he owned. 
-Alicent begins experiencing strange nightmares that plague her every night. The most recent one scared her enough to tell her nurse. A black cat-like monster creeping onto her bed and sinking its teeth into her throat. When she awakes it’s gone but a female figure lingers, extremely still and ominous. Then it disappears into the darkness of the room and she’s left in tears. The nurse claims to see a female wandering the tree line and this place is haunted. 
-When Alicent gets the courage to tell Rhaenyra she claims the same happened to her. She now forces Alicent to wear the charm to ward off any unwanted evils… Her nightmares end there but not her melancholy. Rhae is more devoted than ever tending to her, even waking up earlier in the day to spend time with her. Her dreams morphed into something else, she would speak to people whom she can’t remember. 
-Rhaenyra became extra affectionate that night. Her hands traveled to places that others deemed unholy. Alicent rejected it at first, fearful of being scorned by her father if he found out but once again Nyra always got her way. Her charms were impossible to reject especially since they made her feel so good. It was gentle and loving, not at all like how it had been described to her in the past. The feeling of euphoria consuming her whole… Rhaenyra had a wicked tongue. 
-The night wasn’t as peaceful as it started off. The second they drifted off to sleep together another nightmare attacked Alicent. Though, this time it was her mother warning her of an ‘assassin’ sharing her bed. She woke up to find Rhaenyra gone and became frantic, waking up everybody in the house. It took hours before they found her wandering the halls, awake but unconscious. Otto described it as sleepwalking. 
-Otto finds a doctor for both girls. Rhaenyra is fine though her lack of sleep is causing her to behave strangely. However, Alicent’s condition seemed to be severe as he berated her with a hoard of questions. The doctor warned them all that she wasn’t to be alone, not even for one second. The air in Styria was becoming thick and the world had an eerie feeling. 
-Her father, Otto, receives a letter soon after from the uncle of the girl Alicent was originally intended to be friends with. The general is arriving soon and he wished to visit the old tombs of kings. For now, only Alicent, the nurse, her father and the general will be going. As of recently Rhaenyra has been sleeping consistently, rarely waking even for food. 
-Alicent doesn’t like the general, the carriage is filled with his animosity towards whoever killed his niece and is draining her energy. 
He speaks of how he must have vengeance against the fiend that killed his niece. Otto asks what exactly is going on but the general says they will not believe him. Instead he informs them they are going to the tombs of an ancient family and he is going to unearth them to be rid of the monsters. 
-His story is far-fetched yet eerily similar. The General and his niece meet a beautiful young woman, Ahneyra. She claimed she knew the General from the past and has memories and stories to prove it, though he has no memory of her. Ahneyra comes to their home and almost immediately, his niece’s health begins to decline. She complains of dreams and nightly sensations such as being pierced and strangled. He called a doctor to check on her health and he claimed it to be a vampire… That same night he saw the girl he invited into his home feasting on the blood of his kin. 
-When he finishes his story they arrive at the tomb of kings. Filled with dead Targaryens and other nobles kept close to them at court. It is a gloomy, silent and morbid place but the General seemed excited to be there. Perhaps he would be able to take his revenge on the creature he believes killed his niece. Alicent calls over a nearby woodman and asks how it came to be so empty and unkept, and the woodman tells him about vampires ravaging the place. 
-Laura grows gloomy hearing this, the generals story and her recent ailments are all too similar. Being in this place brought her absolutely no comfort. Her world suddenly brightens when she sees Rhaenyra drawing near. The peace and the warm smile on Rhae’s face fades just as quickly as it came. The general charged past her, shoving her to the floor as he jumps to attack Nyra. An entirely different side of Rhaenyra is shown, she looks brutish and fiendish as she defends off his attacks. The area erupts into chaos and before Alicent can process it, Rhaenyra is gone into the abyss of the dark forest.
-The general behind declaring that is Rhaenyra, Countess Naehyra, and the one who destroyed his niece, Ahneyra are one and the same. Alicent's heart shatters into pieces when she learns this. Before she can combat the theory her father urges her to return home. 
-At the manor a priest is on guard outside her room at all hours. Once again, she is completely secluded from the outside world. 
She has no idea where Rhaenyra is and is worried endlessly. Alicent takes it upon herself to sneak out to the old library and try to dig up information about the Targaryen’s and the vampires. 
-Word by word she realizes what exactly has been haunting her, a real vampire. The reason the Targaryens have such noticeable l features and we’re able to stay in power for so long was because they were monsters, created by the devil to spite god himself. However, some things didn’t add up. If Rhaenyra was such a monster why would she gift her a charm to protect her? Why would Nyra starve herself instead of just feasting on her blood? Why did she stay longer with her than any other girl? Why did she lay with her and not take the opportunity to kill her? Her symptoms were that of a starving vampire who desperately needed to eat to survive, she knew how to cure herself and yet she didn’t. 
-Alicent came to the conclusion that maybe everything wasn’t a lie. Maybe Rhaenyra truly fell for a human and tried to go against her own nature to try and be with her. This only made her feel worse. How could she love such a monster? How could she be such foolish prey to a creature who goes against the god she worships? 
-They all set out on a mission to destroy Rhaenyra once and for all. Alicent tagged along hoping that this was all falsehoods and her lover was simply misunderstood. A strange man joins them,  he claims to have devoted his life to pursuing vampires. He claims he will bring the law of god to the tomb and end the Targaryen bloodline once and for all. He brings a book, a stake, a cross, holy water and ‘the protection of god’ with him. 
-It took a full week of exploration through hidden tunnels. They stumble upon a dark and cobweb ridden room with a golf tomb in the middle. As the group gathers around the coffin preparing the strike Alicent begins tearing at her fingernails. She says a final prayer that when it opens Rhaenyra won’t be inside. Her lover is not a monster and they’re meant to be together. 
-Her prayers went unanswered as they opened the tomb. Rhaenyra laid inside, rose colored cheeks and warm flesh as if she were alive. She was sleeping peacefully surrounded by a pool of blood. Alicent wanted to scream out but the men moved quicker, plunging a stake into her heart. For a moment, Rhae’s eyes opened in shock and she let out a gasp as she stared at Alicent. An unmistakable look of betrayal on her face. The general swung his sword decapitating her and Otto threw a match into the coffin, burning any that remained of her friend. 
-Alicent concludes her narrative with the strangers' after he visits her home for a few weeks at, during which he shares with her father numerous stories and accounts of vampires. The countess apparently had a lover long ago whom she was forbidden to be with. When she committed suicide, her lover feared she would become a vampire and so they moved her remains and her tomb. When they were older, they realized this did not, and could not, work, so they wrote about the location of the tomb and a way to destroy her, but died before getting to do so. That’s how the man was able to discover her tomb and kill her. 
-She cries every day since the incident. She struggles to eat or sleep or simply live. It felt as though a part of her died in that tomb as well. Otto forced her out of bed today and made her see their 'guests' off. Before the stranger leaves he turns back to the mansion and gives Alicent a solemn smile. He tells her to not mourn the dead, which seemed like a comfort until his final sentence, “You look like her… My ancestor I mean.” Once again, Alicent feels completely secluded from the world. The pain in her heart was like a wound that could never heal.  
-She finally realizes her dreams were not her own and were that of a woman from the past. A woman who once loved the monster she shared a bed with. It explained why she spoke to people whom she could not remember. Maybe there was a chance that Rhaenyra loved Alicent for what she reminded her of. Maybe Ali was the reincarnation of an ex-lover and that is why Rhaenyra kept her alive for so long. Maybe that's why her dreams felt like distant memories. It didn't matter now; she was gone and Alicent was left with her ghost.
-Alicent and her father decided to go back to Oldtown for a year to forget what happened, but sometimes Alicent still hears light footsteps as if Rhaenyra is outside her door, coming back to haunt her. Though her presence is still not terrifying, it is warm and comforting as it always had been.
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roguesthetic · 1 year
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Commuovere [teaser]
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Commuovere, Italian verb meaning: a heart-warming story that moved you to tears.
Or, alternatively,
In which you always seem to bump into each other on the worst days of your lives.
Note: this is just a little bit, I’m still trying to work out where I want this to go but I think I have a rough idea. I just wanted to publish something so I had at least one thing up, but let me know if this is something you’d want to read! :)
[Word Count: 1,069]
“We still need you. Not yet.”
 A harsh breath escapes your mouth at the words of your supervisor. On Sunday you received a call from the hospital that said it was highly unlikely that your grandmother would survive another week. Today was Friday, and last night during your visit they had pulled you to the side and said that it could be anytime now.
 “With all due respect, you promised this morning that I could leave after lunch. It’s gone 2pm now, and I’ve completed everything you needed.” You pleaded with her, “I’ll put in the extra hours next week.”
 Next week.
 Next week, when the only remaining family you have left will no longer breath the same air as you.
 You watched as your supervisor sighed and looked around the room, everywhere except towards you. Almost as if this was an inconvenience. She had been sympathetic several months ago when she found out that your grandmother was dying, and you were the only person available to care for her. But despite being her hardest worker, when it came down to it, she still couldn’t grant you the same reprieve that she demanded from everyone else.
 “Nayeon needs help sorting out the Wellerman files, once that’s done, you can leave.”
 You swallowed, realising this was all you were going to get. Once that task was done, you were going to clock out straight away, no matter what she said. Swiftly turning on your heel, you made your way back to your desk, making eye contact with a sheepish looking Nayeon, “Sorry, I know you need to get back.”
 “It’s alright, this shouldn’t take long anyways.”
 ***
Two hours. That’s what it took to sort out those files to meet your supervisor’s standards. Now, here you stood on the train platform, anxiously waiting for the next train that would finally take you to your grandmother. An unnerving feeling settled in your stomach as you observed the way people moved around you. Almost as if your own personal crises meant nothing to them and were simply a tiny speck of dust in the grand scheme of things.
 A young man around your age moved to stand next to you, out of the corner of your eye you could see him watching you hesitantly. Growing tired from his gaze, you turned to make eye contact and gave a small, albeit fake, smile in the hopes of making him uncomfortable enough to turn away. Which ultimately failed.
 “Is this the right place to go towards Shepherd’s Bush?”
 The man had a slight accent, and his head tilted slightly to the left as he waited for you to reply.
 “Yeah” you nodded, “I’m waiting for that one too.”
 His shoulders dropped in what looked to be relief, he shuffled slightly so that he was stood just centimetres away from your shoulder. He offered a grin, “It’s my first time here, I’m visiting a friend.”
 Internally you groaned, after the day you’ve had at work and the evening you’ll likely spend at the hospital, the last thing that you needed was to endure some painful small talk with a stranger you’ll never meet again. “That’s nice.” You replied, looking straight forward, and hoping that he’d get the hint that a conversation was not something that was on the table. To which he seemed to finally understand as he watched you for a moment and gave a little nod, almost to himself, and faced forward too.
 A vibration in your jacket pocket startled you, pulling out your phone you immediately answered.
 “Hello, is this (y/n)?”
 “Yes, that’s me.” You responded.
 “My name is Laura, I’m a nurse at St. George’s. I’m calling about your grandmother”
 Upon hearing her name, you recognised the woman as the nurse that would always bring you a cup of tea whenever you visited. She had a warm smile and kind eyes that made her seem as though she held all the knowledge in the world, but not in a know-it-all sort of way, but the type that made her wise.
 “I’m on my way there right now, is she alright?” The man next to you glanced up curiously, evidently listening in on the conversation.
 Laura began to reply but her voice was drowned out by the screeching of the train’s wheels on the tracks as it approached the platform. Those around you started to push forward in a hurry to get onto the train.
 “I didn’t catch that, could you say that again please?”
 “I’m so sorry (y/n), but your grandmother passed away thirty minutes ago.”
 You stilled. It was as if time froze, but people were still bustling all around you almost as a sick reminder that life is constantly moving and doesn’t care whether you want it to or not, it just carries you along with it unwillingly. Laura continued speaking through the phone, but all the sounds just blended into a singular white noise that caused your brain to vibrate.
 The man moved to stand in front of you, watching you in concern but you didn’t have the capacity to react to him in any way. “Are you okay?” He didn’t receive a response, what could you say? This was a random stranger; you couldn’t explain to him that you’d just lost the only person who ever gave a damn about you. He wouldn’t be able to comfort you, and you’d just turn into a story that he’d tell at social gatherings about that one time in London where he stumbled upon a crying girl whilst waiting for the tube.
 The doors for the train opened and the man looked back at it cautiously, he noticed you weren’t making any attempt to move and spoke again, “isn’t this your train too?”
 You looked back into his eyes, and he was almost startled by the new, empty look in them. “I don’t need to get it anymore.” You forced yourself to blink several times to force the tears back and sharply turned away from the stranger.
He watched in confusion as you left the platform and headed up the stairs to God-knows-where. The loud beeping behind him forced him to turn around and he dropped his head back in frustration as the doors for the train closed without him on it. Glancing towards the electronic sign above him he let out another sigh, 10 minutes for the next one.
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stygiusfic · 1 year
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10 books to know you better
snagging this from the lovely @coffee-writes because: what do we do when we don’t feel like working? we do memes on tumblr.
so, in no particular order, ten books that have stuck with me throughout the years!
Cien años de soledad (One Hundred Years of Solitude) - Gabriel García Márquez I read the final paragraph of this masterpiece in a textbook in school and it haunted me for years until I finally read the novel. It’s a delight of magical realism and the prose is so expertly crafted that every line hits with perfect cadence (in the original, at least; I haven’t read any translations). This book is an experience.
Carmilla - J. Sheridan le Fanu People say Dracula is the height of the vampire novel, and they are wrong. Carmilla is where it’s at. Through the eyes of her victim, Carmilla’s predatory nature and her apparent affection for Laura get blended in such a way that you can see why she’s so charming at the same time as you feel the underlying wrongness of it all. Goals.
The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison The comfort read of all time. Here’s a novel based around courtly intrigue that doesn’t hinge on the protagonist being more twisted than everyone around them, or becoming corrupted by the environment. Maia struggles to be forthright and true to himself in a court that despises him, and it’s so wholesome to watch—and also very exciting when he has to get out of the traps laid for him. Also, the prose is gorgeous.
Momo - Michael Ende I read this book numerous times as a child, but it’s felt very relevant as an adult too. Momo is a little girl who is able to find joy in her surroundings, and the only one who can stop the Gentlemen in Grey, strange shadow beings that manipulate people to put their time in a “bank” with the promise that it’ll be returned later, but it never is; it only feeds the Gentlemen in Grey and their neverending greed. The novel criticizes consumerism and the trappings of a fast-paced society (and it very much applies to capitalism as we know it now too).
The Terracotta Bride - Zen Cho This novella has made me cry every time I’ve read it. It’s about a young girl who’s been so used to having her needs come second to everyone else’s that she only really starts to figure out who she is once she’s dead and in the Chinese afterlife. There, made once again to be an object for a man’s convenience, she meets the terracotta bride, a construct shaped like a beautiful woman that makes her question who she is and what she wants. The writing is poignant and beautiful at every turn.
Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier Another one for the “pervasive wrongness” vibes. It’s remarkable how deeply Rebecca’s influence is felt throughout the novel even though she is dead by the time it starts; she’s almost more of a protagonist than the point-of-view character, who isn’t even named. It’s a masterpiece of subtext and so so vivid in the way it frames its characters and scenery.
Queenpin - Megan Abbott This book rewired my brain when I read it for the first time. It’s a noir-ish tale of a young girl becoming involved in the mob’s business and becoming obsessed with the approval of her mentor, the ruthless mob queenpin Gloria Denton. It’s short but it packs a punch.
Annihilation - Catherynne M. Valente Another comfort read! This is a Mass Effect spin-off novel, but it’s so much better than any other spin-off novel I’ve ever read. It’s fast-paced, incredibly engaging and with characters that feel alive on the page. All three times I’ve read it, I’ve finished it in a day of feverish reading. It also has one of my favorite wlw romances of any book I’ve ever read.
Mexican Gothic - Silvia Moreno-García I have a paperback of this on my shelf and anytime I think too long about how good this book is I feel a primal need to cut it into pieces and eat it. It does a fantastic job of creating that atmosphere of being trapped that is essential to horror stories, where you understand why the protagonist isn’t leaving but you wish they would because you know the other shoe is going to drop soon, and when it does all you can do is scream and hold on for dear life. It’s perfectly paced and gorgeously written, and I love it.
Harrow the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir Respectfully: this book is insane. If you know, you know. I love how Muir’s background in fanfic shows off here, in the sense that fanfic is absolutely fucking bonkers and always does whatever it wants, not what it “should”, and Muir takes that principle and makes it work so hard for her. I love it.
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rockislandadultreads · 8 months
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Read-Alike Friday: How Can I Help You by Laura Sims
How Can I Help You by Laura Sims
No one knows Margo’s real name. Her colleagues and patrons at a small town public library only know her middle-aged normalcy, congeniality, and charm. They have no reason to suspect that she is, in fact, a former nurse with a trail of countless premature deaths in her wake. She has turned a new page, so to speak, and the library is her sanctuary, a place to quell old urges.
That is, at least, until Patricia, a recent graduate and failed novelist, joins the library staff. Patricia quickly notices Margo’s subtly sinister edge, and watches her carefully. When a patron’s death in the library bathroom gives her a hint of Margo’s mysterious past, Patricia can’t resist digging deeper—even as this new fixation becomes all-consuming.
The Last Flight by Julie Clark
Claire Cook has a perfect life. Married to the scion of a political dynasty, with a Manhattan townhouse and a staff of ten, her surroundings are elegant, her days flawlessly choreographed, and her future auspicious. But behind closed doors, nothing is quite as it seems. That perfect husband has a temper that burns as bright as his promising political career, and he's not above using his staff to track Claire's every move, making sure she's living up to his impossible standards. But what he doesn't know is that Claire has worked for months on a plan to vanish.
A chance meeting in an airport bar brings her together with a woman whose circumstances seem equally dire. Together they make a last-minute decision to switch tickets — Claire taking Eva's flight to Oakland, and Eva traveling to Puerto Rico as Claire. They believe the swap will give each of them the head start they need to begin again somewhere far away. But when the flight to Puerto Rico goes down, Claire realizes it's no longer a head start but a new life. Cut off, out of options, with the news of her death about to explode in the media, Claire will assume Eva's identity, and along with it, the secrets Eva fought so hard to keep hidden.
The Plot by Jean Hanff Korelitz
Jacob Finch Bonner was once a promising young novelist with a respectably published first book. Today, he’s teaching in a third-rate MFA program and struggling to maintain what’s left of his self-respect; he hasn’t written—let alone published—anything decent in years. When Evan Parker, his most arrogant student, announces he doesn’t need Jake’s help because the plot of his book in progress is a sure thing, Jake is prepared to dismiss the boast as typical amateur narcissism. But then . . . he hears the plot.
Jake returns to the downward trajectory of his own career and braces himself for the supernova publication of Evan Parker’s first novel: but it never comes. When he discovers that his former student has died, presumably without ever completing his book, Jake does what any self-respecting writer would do with a story like that—a story that absolutely needs to be told.
In a few short years, all of Evan Parker’s predictions have come true, but Jake is the author enjoying the wave. He is wealthy, famous, praised and read all over the world. But at the height of his glorious new life, an e-mail arrives, the first salvo in a terrifying, anonymous campaign: You are a thief, it says.
As Jake struggles to understand his antagonist and hide the truth from his readers and his publishers, he begins to learn more about his late student, and what he discovers both amazes and terrifies him. Who was Evan Parker, and how did he get the idea for his “sure thing” of a novel? What is the real story behind the plot, and who stole it from whom?
The Unkindness of Ravens by M.E. Hilliard
Greer Hogan is a librarian and an avid reader of murder mysteries. She also has a habit of stumbling upon murdered bodies. The first was her husband's, and the tragic loss led Greer to leave New York behind for a new start in the Village of Raven Hill. But her new home becomes less idyllic when she discovers her best friend sprawled dead on the floor of the library.
Was her friend's demise related to two other deaths that the police deemed accidental? Do the residents of this insular village hold dark secrets about another murder, decades ago? Does a serial killer haunt Raven Hill?
As the body count rises, Greer's anxious musings take a darker turn when she uncovers unexpected and distressing information about her own husband's death...and the man who went to prison for his murder . She is racked with guilt at the possibility that her testimony may have helped to convict an innocent man.
Though Greer admires the masters of deduction she reads about in books, she never expected to have to solve a mystery herself. Fortunately, she possesses a quick wit and a librarian's natural resourcefulness. But will that be enough to protect her from a brilliant, diabolical murderer?
And even if Greer manages to catch the Raven Hill killer, will living with her conscience prove a fate worse than death?
This is the first volume of the "Greer Hogan Mystery" series.
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strawwritesfic · 2 years
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Clint Barton x Female!Assassin!Reader: Blossoms in the Snow [Ch. 2]
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Summary: For nine years, you raised the little sister your parents would never see grow. For nine years, you put blood and sweat and tears—sometimes your own, sometimes that of others—into your gruesome work. For nine years, you promised your little family a better life. Then, on the eve of happily ever after, all that is snatched away in the name of revenge. There’s only one group of people capable of rescuing your sister from those who murdered your parents. The thing is, they might not be so willing to help once they discover who (or what) you are…or maybe, just maybe, they might love you in spite of it.
Ratings/Warnings: T (sexual references, mild foul language, canon divergence Post-Avengers (2012), violence, slow burn, France depicted by a non-French writer, no Laura Barton)
Pairings: Clint Barton/Female!Reader; Natasha Romanoff/Bruce Banner; Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Tag List: @imaginesfire​
Master List
Chapter 2: Thanks for the Warning
Your father told you once many years ago that one day you would return to New York City. You’d been seven at the time, eager and excited to be somewhere so starkly different from your home in Arizona—and to see your father at work. All the glitter, all the lights, so many people! You couldn’t wait to come back with your parents someday soon, someday when it was safe, someday when there wasn’t a job to do.
As you watched the dark shapes of the many skyscrapers covered in squares of brilliant whites and blues slide past your taxi window, you couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm of your childhood. Your father probably hadn’t imagined that everything would be different the next time you saw the city, except for the city itself. No family, no safety, only work to look forward to. You wouldn’t even be in the country long enough to enjoy the sights if all went according to plan.
“So, how long are you in town for?” the cabbie asked. The brown eyes set underneath his thick, dark eyebrows flashed at you in the rearview mirror. You appreciated his breaking into your thoughts; answering him prevented you from dwelling on what could not be changed.
“I leave first thing tomorrow.” You slipped easily back into the American Midwestern accent you’d adopted since arriving in the city. “I’ve got business to take care of out of the country.”
“And you only got in this evening?”
“I had a layover. Why waste it?”
“That’s some turnaround just to see Central Park!”
“I couldn’t resist looking at the ice-skating rink. My dad took me there once when I was a little girl.”
“Oh, yeah? Where’s he now?”
“Dead. Like the rest of my family.”
Your driver made a strange spluttering sound. Lucky for him, a spot along 5th Avenue opened up, allowing him to pull in without inflicting any further awkward conversations upon either of you. You hopped out, paid him his fare—plus a tip—and then headed for the information kiosk ahead on Terrace while he waited for someone new to flag him down.
Early March after sunset was not as popular time for the Central Park skating rink as earlier months might have been. It could not be helped. You had left Paris as soon and as surreptitiously as you could without attracting suspicion. A few slow laps around the ice were enough for you to find a crowd of young adults to follow back out of the park. Their chattered faded when you parted from them to turn right on 5th, but by then you could gauge your speed by walking with the other pedestrians. No one gave the woman carrying a pair of ice skates and a heavy backpack a second look.
And there was your destination in front of you, lit up like a beacon piercing the glowing sky above. Avengers Tower shone brighter than all the buildings around it; you could not have missed it if you tried. Nothing major must have been going on that night either. More people than you’d seen in Central Park spilled across the tower’s steps. Many of those people were in costume; enough weren’t that you blended in with the numerous fans and protesters as you climbed up to the glass doors.
You expected the empty lobby at nine o'clock in the evening. Nothing stirred the shadows less than an inch from your nose. Not a light blinked. Tony Stark would have the best security system in the world installed, though, probably one he’d built himself. That you could count on. One wrong move, and all your careful work just to get this far would come crashing down around your ears.
“I wouldn’t stand there too long if I were you.”
Turning at the sound of a male voice, you found only one person close enough to speak to you. A few feet away stood a man painted head-to-toe in metallic gold and red. He rotated his entire body to meet your eyes, and it hit you: He was a street performer decked out to match his location.
“I mean it.” His fingers mechanically motioned you closer. “Too many fans attempting to breach the lobby after hours lately. They’ve updated their security. I saw a girl get blasted down to the sidewalk last night. Unless you’re looking for that sort of thrill…”
You quickly stepped away from the danger zone and over to your new friend. An upturned hat filled with coins and dollar bills sat at the base of the pedestal he stood atop. Well, preventing you from getting caught before you got started had to be worth something.
“Thanks for the warning,” you said, and pulled out a dollar from your wallet to drop in the hat.
Through the throng of Iron Mans, Black Widows, Thors, and Captain Americas you traipsed. Occasionally, you stopped to take a selfie with one that stood at a strategic point along your path. The photos, however, told you nothing other than that Tony Stark didn’t keep a security guard stationed in his building’s lobby at night. And why would he? They had a Hulk, and you wouldn’t doubt the team would utilize that the second they caught wind of anyone trying to force their way through the front doors.
Fortunately, you’d only ever planned to use the front door as a last resort.
******
Nine o'clock. The stage was set. All the lamps in Tony’s living quarters were dimmed. Most of the glasses next to each person’s seat were drained of liquor. A mound of cash sat in the center of the table. Only two players remained. Tony and Steve eyed one another warily. No one else moved. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for the big reveal.
“Four of a kind,” Steve announced as he slapped four aces and a ten of spades on the table.
Whatever Tony had, he didn’t bother saying. He scattered his cards across the table and dropped his head into his arms with a theatrical groan. Even from this angle, Clint could tell Tony’s hand hadn’t had a hope of beating Steve’s. Natasha and Bruce cheered.
“That’s the third time tonight, Rogers.” Tony lifted his head high enough to glare at the man across from him. “You’re cheating. There’s no other explanation for it!”
“If he is, you haven’t managed to prove it yet,” Natasha said.
“That’s because you’re all aiding and abetting him. You want me to lose.”
“Hey, I was rooting for you,” Bruce put in.
Tony glowered at him, too. “You’re sleeping with the enemy now, Big Guy. I can’t trust you. Who knows what she can convince you to do once she’s got you between the sheets?”
As if to prove Tony’s point for him, Natasha entwined her fingers with the hand Bruce had resting on the table, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Bruce turned pink but shot her a shy smile. Clint rolled his eyes away from this nauseating sight.
“See?” Tony said. “She probably told you to drop out as soon as you could to make sure I’d be trapped in a game alone with Le Chiffre here!”
“That’s putting an awful lot of stock in Bruce’s poker skill that I haven’t seen yet,” Clint remarked.
“This coming from the first guy to fold.”
“It’s not my fault you guys play for such high stakes. Some of us aren’t made of money, you know? I’m practically homeless.”
“Please. You live rent free in the most exclusive place in town. I think you can afford to put a little something in the pot.”
“Says the billionaire,” Clint grumbled. What little money he earned from a paycheck severely cut by superheroics he preferred to keep to himself, not that Tony cared. But Clint supposed he wouldn’t care much if he raked in the kind of cash Tony had for his entire life.
“Anyway, that’s not the point!” Leaping to his feet, Tony pointed dramatically at Steve. “My point is, how did someone whose entire shtick is embodying truth, justice, and the American way get so good at poker?”
Steve eyes flitted around the table, perhaps looking for an out. No one offered him one. “When I couldn’t keep a job, I had to find some way to help Bucky pay the rent. I’ve had a lot of practice playing people a lot tougher than you.”
“So you admit it! You are cheating.”
“Well, if you’re so sure, I can think of one way for you to prove it.”
“What’s that?”
Steve smiled. “Play another round. And this time, pay real close attention.”
The same tension as before filled the room. Bruce and Natasha’s gaze remained riveted on Tony. Clint idly wondered if he could slip away unseen while everyone waited for Tony to make a decision. Then, before Clint could push out his chair and make a run for it, Tony sat back down.
“Deal me in,” he said.
“I’m game,” Natasha agreed.
“I can go one more,” said Bruce.
“Sir?” JARVIS’s voice cut smoothly though the renewed trash talk. He didn’t wait for anyone to acknowledge him before continuing, “My sensors indicate someone is attempting to scale the building.”
That brought an end to the dealing at once.
“What?”
“Again?”
“Now?”
“I guess this puts an end to our game,” Steve said ruefully. “I was going to go for Tony’s Spyder next.”
“In your dreams, Rogers. I’ve got your number. I was just about to win everything back.”
“If you’re so sure about that, why not wager the car?”
“This hardly addresses the problem at hand, boys,” Natasha interrupted. “The game can go on, but first we need to decide who has to go retrieve the intruder, preferably before they find anything to put up on eBay.”
“It’s probably just another one of Tony’s ex-girlfriend,” said Bruce.
“So that’s me out of the running,” Tony said.
“Why does that make it not your job?” Steve asked.
“Because if I go, who knows what she’ll do? I break her heart, she grabs the nearest potted plant and breaks my face.”
“A real tragedy.”
“Maybe a plant to the face would improve your looks, Rogers, but some of us don’t need an adjustment.”
“I’ll go.”
Natasha and Bruce exchanged a look. Tony and Steve went as far as pausing in their bickering to stare at the man now standing next to his chair.
“Clint? You sure?” Bruce asked.
Clint had already made it to the door. He waved Bruce’s concern away. “This game’s too rich for my blood anyway. You guys go ahead.”
“Hey, better you than me, Legolas,” said Tony.
“You might not feel that way here in a few minutes,” Steve said.
“Mark my words, Rogers, in a few minutes, you’re gonna be the one wishing he went on peel-the-fangirl-off -the-wall duty.”
“That’s right. Keep your eyes on each other. No one consider how badly I might like a new car,” Natasha said.
As the argument over who would win this round of Texas Hold'em resumed, Clint moved rapidly away from Tony’s sitting room. The floor containing the more common areas, such as the bar and Bruce’s laboratory, was only a few floors away. Clint shoved the door to the stairwell open with his shoulder and dashed up the stairs, relieved to be away from the rest of the group. Hanging around Bruce and Natasha was sickening enough; throw in Steve and Tony’s near-inability to pay attention to anyone but each other (especially whenever Pepper flew back to Malibu for work), and Clint felt like the fifth wheel on a very ungainly bicycle.
He made a beeline for the weapons cache the second he reached the correct floor. From there, he pulled out the waiting bow and a quiver of trick arrows—then grabbed a few real arrows just in case. There’d been an influx in attempts to break in to the various Avengers’ living quarters since Tony displayed the whole place in a Home and Gardens magazine, but they couldn’t assume every intruder would be someone relatively harmless and in search of nothing more than celebrity underwear to sell for a quick buck.
“Which way are they coming up, JARVIS?” Clint asked the ceiling, once he was prepared.
JARVIS answered promptly: “The unidentified climber is making their way up the northeast side of the building. Their current whereabouts are near floor 83.”
“How about that? A new record.”
Whoever they were, they didn’t have far to go. Clint picked up the pace. As he reached the building’s back wall of windows, he snapped his bow into shape and nocked one of the trick arrows. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to fire anything more dangerous than a rope should the stranger slip upon seeing him.
“I have unlocked the panel directly in front of you,” JARVIS announced.
“Thanks, pal.”
Wind blasted into the room the moment Clint pushed the window open it. Nearby objects rattled and papers skittered across the floor. No noise issued from outside except for the faint and steady honking from the traffic one fatal drop below. He stuck his body out only enough to aim his bow and arrow downward.
“You know, we’ve got an awfully nice public lobby about 85 floors from your current position. Maybe you could try visiting that sometime, preferably during daylight hours. Someone there might even agree to sign something for you, provided it’s legally purchased.”
Silence. Clint slowly lowered his bow and squinted into the darkness below. The alley, though not as well-lit as the front of the tower, caught enough of the blue glow from the giant “A” for him to confirm his immediate suspicion: No one clung there to respond to his quip. He waited there for another half a minute, though, as if expecting someone to poke their head out from a lower level once they thought he’d left.
“JARVIS?” he said as he ducked back inside. “You sure they were on the northeast side of the building?”
“Yes, sir,” the AI replied.
“Do you sense anyone there anymore? ‘Cause I didn’t see anybody just now, and we both know my sight’s about the only thing I contribute around here.”
“I sense no one actively touching the building outside at all. How odd. It’s as though they simply vanished.”
“Let’s hope it’s some hocus-pocus like that. The alternatives are a hell of a lot worse.”
Maybe it was his many years as a SHIELD operative. Maybe it was his time as Loki’s unwilling puppet. Whatever the reason, Clint didn’t let go of his bow or remove his arrow from the string. His eyes scanned every window he passed on his way back to the rest of the group. This time, he took the elevator, ears straining every second for the sound of shattering glass or an uninvited passenger coming along for the ride. Nothing like that happened, and he returned to the room without incident.
“That was quick,” Tony remarked at Clint’s appearance. “You holding out some latent teleportation powers on us, Barton?”
“Do you need help restraining them?” Steve asked, eyeing Clint’s still-readied weapon.
Clint shook his head. “There was nobody there.”
“Were you doing any experiments with JARVIS earlier?” Bruce asked Tony.
“No.” Tony sat his cards facedown on the table and sat up a little straighter. “JARVIS? Is there something going on with your programming?”
“Not that I can tell, sir. One minute, my security systems detected a human biosignal moving up the northeast side of the tower. The next, they did not,” JARVIS replied.
“Run a self diagnostic.”
“I’ve already begun. Nothing seems amiss. I can find no signs of a break-in either.”
Bruce tossed his hand to the table without further discussion. “I’ll go to the ground floor and see if I can find anyone. I wasn’t going to last much longer anyway.”
“Might want to grab a spatula on the way out!” Tony called as Bruce disappeared into the hall.
“Very funny,” Steve said stonily.
“You know, I imagine Pepper’s going to say the exact same thing when I tell her she has to file a claim with our insurance. Same tone and everything. Amazing.”
“That really shouldn’t be our primary concern right now.”
“What should be?” Natasha asked with a cheeky smile. “You really have a one track mind if you’re still focused on the game.”
“I—”
“I am detecting multiple human biosignals now, sir.”
“Outside?” Clint asked, already headed back the way he’d come from.
“No. Inside the building. One is in the bar. One is Miss Potts’ private office. I have third reading in the lobby, a fourth in Captain Roger’s bedroom, and another in the records room.”
Natasha, Steve, and Tony joined Clint on their feet. Everyone gazed expectantly at Steve for orders. He looked at each of them in turn as he rattled them off:
“Tony, you check Pepper’s office. I’ll get the one in my quarters. JARVIS, tell Dr. Banner to check the lobby since he’s the closest.”
“I’ll hit the records room,” Clint volunteered.
“Oh, sure, the one that’s probably a false alarm?” Tony smirked. “No one’s getting anything out of there with JARVIS on the job. Why don’t you join Natasha at the bar? At least I’ve got some unprotected valuables there.”
“Hey, might as well send the least capable person to the least likely spot, right?” Clint said.
Natasha took off like a shot in the direction of the stairs without waiting to see what the outcome of Clint and Tony’s spat would be. Steve, Tony, and Clint all followed. The former two stopped at the door to the stairs through which she had disappeared.
“Remind me why you’re on the payroll again, Barton?” Tony asked.
“Someone’s got to be the pretty one.”
Clint sped off for the lift again. The records room was quite a bit further down than either Steve or Tony’s destination, and the stairwell would be too crowded for Clint to maneuver if they ran into trouble there. Bruce must have already made it all the way down to the first floor, because the elevator arrived quickly and with no one inside.
This second trip took longer than Clint would have liked. He returned his trick arrow to his quiver and replaced it with a real one. As confident as Tony seemed in JARVIS’s ability to throw off a hacker, Clint himself didn’t feel so sure. If someone had gotten into the tower that night, they’d already managed to fool a supposedly foolproof AI once. The last thing he needed would be to find himself with his pants down and an actual supervillain ready to jump him the moment the lift doors opened.
But the floor that housed all the Avengers’ records—paper and electronic files both—seemed empty when he stepped out into it. He saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary, yet something prevented him from turning right back around and joining Natasha at the bar. Clint held his breath, listening hard for any unusual noises. The thought of asking JARVIS to check if he still registered an unknown human nearby occurred to Clint before he realized that would let any intruder know someone was on to them.
Down the hall he crept, silent as could be. His breath burned in his lungs. Just a few feet more. The door to the records room hung open. He could see the first few inches of tile floor. The moment he reached the opening, Clint pressed his back against the wall and pulled his bow string taught. Then he carefully inched his head closer and closer to the doorframe until he could peer around it.
At once he could tell just how wrong Tony had been, not just about JARVIS, but about everything else that night, too. There in the records room, surrounded by open boxes and neatly stacked manila folders, crouched a woman with [color] hair—and the moment Clint spotted her was the same moment she spotted him as well.
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girlmcrtis · 2 years
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FULL NAME: laura delgado
PRONUNCIATION: LAU-ra 
MEANING: victory, honor or fame
ALIAS(S): princess, little bird, birdie
AGE: twenty-six
BIRTHDAY: november 13th
ZODIAC: scorpio
OCCUPATION: mortician + organ harvester for the latinx mafia
GENDER: cis woman . she/her
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: ?
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual inclinations
tw: serial killing ,  gaslighting ,  gore ,  child death , parental death ,  guns ,  violence .
I. STRAWBERRIES & CREAM, ropes & scraped knees. high pigtails & princess dresses, all stars used to shine for you but now the stars have fallen and your big brown eyes see the world as a warped mirage of what it really is: something hollow,  and emptied of fairytales . maybe you’re broken.  you long for the days where you used to run into the house with dirty shoes to leave your tiny imprints in mud, when your small hands would reach for the skies covered in dirt & grime, but those sunny summer days are long gone, but oh, how fondly do you remember them, how sweetly do you remember of days that never were.
II. DROPLETS OF COLD WATER pepper your skin while your run around the garden, daddy takes time off work to play, he’s chasing you & mommy’s smiling from the window, thanking god for such a happy family. you used to have a house, it was big and tall and white with a big red door that welcomed you home every day. now it’s black and moldy and decrepit, full ash and fragmented memories of faces burnt in a fire. was it ever happy?  think hard on it . think really really hard . scrape away the made-up stories ,  the good memories you’ve made for yourself and look back --- was your mother really smiling or was she crying?    that was never your home .  your home was a place filled with anguish and terror ,  it was a chamber of horrors made to muffle screams of children who didn’t know any better .
III. YOU REMEMBER SCREAMS, it was all fine and then it wasn’t. you remember how mommy fell down … or maybe — you weren't supposed to pry, you were SUPPOSED to be a good girl and stay out of daddy’s basement. but you were never a good little girl, you always found a way to misbehave and that’s why you could never be one of them :    one of his perfect little dolls .    they stayed down there ,   in the dark ,  along ,    unmoving :    their eyes hollowed out ,   their limbs limp .  they scared you .   he scared you --- but you promised to never tell anyone .   no, you don’t remember the creaking steps of old wooden stairs, mommy never got hurt. it never happened. you’re just imagining these things, you’ve always been such an imaginative young girl.
IV. SCISSORS DRIPPING CRIMSON on the old concrete floor, he’d made a mess again ,   and those cold black eyes shoot daggers at you.  he  makes you promise not to tell.  he was never SCARY before, was he? why was he so mad? was that a body at his feet? was that your mother at his feet? she digged a little too deep . she found things she shouldn’t and now she had to go --- he couldn’t trust anybody but you .  tears rolled down flustered cheeks as bloodied hands pulled your small shoulders in, cradling your tiny body in its stifling embrace. you don’t remember stabbing him, you only remember the knife went in and out of his body and he collapsed .  he smiled at you ,   and told you  ‘that’s my girl’ .  he didn’t get back up again .     you stayed there for two days, with your parents, hoping they’d somehow get up and fix everything. they never did.
V. THEY THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD AT FIRST  when the cops broke in ,  shouting and flashing lights .   you were cold and curled up into a little ball in the corner, but you were breathing . you said the children who went down there never came up ,  and now mommy wasn’t coming up either . what they found down there in that room of horrors would forever brand him  THE DOLLMAKER ,   and you the dollmaker’s daughter .    his girl .  you watched the world crumble as a cop kneeled down at your feet and told you everything was going to be okay .   the fbi was kind to you --- but there was no kindness that could erase everything you went through. still, you’ve always held a soft spot for them.
VI. YOU ENDED UP AT AN ORPHANAGE ,   the bad kind.; where the food tasted like muck ,   and there were lipstick stains on plastic cups  &   crushed cigarettes butts all over the overgrown grass. the other kids didn’t take a liking to you .  you’re pushed around - but you never pushed back.   once a week she’d come visit :   long blonde hair  &  crooked glasses .   she always sounded so sweet ,  like a hummingbird .   you loved how colorful the crayons were, but even they couldn’t get you to speak .   you went through several families, but eventually they all gave up on you ---- in some ways, you gave up on them too. you ran away at sixteen, and did whatever you had to do to survive in the streets of new york city. sometimes, people sent you things :   unkind letters, money. you never changed your name, because part of you knew that’d never be enough to forget .
VII. YOU START DANCING  when you turn eighteen, you’re beautiful and despite your ugly past ---- nobody cares about that in this place .   they all just want to forget: their lives, their sorrows, their own mistakes.    that’s how you first come to known the latix mafia, a man takes interest in you, says he’d in love --- head over hills, he’s never met anyone like you before .  he pays for your education ,  and death pulls you in like gravity --- you feel compelled to be a mortician .  nobody understands why such a pretty girl would choose to spend all her time with corpses ,    but you know ---- they’re more like you than any of the living .
VIII. WHEN THEY ASK YOU TO DO A FEW FAVORS ,   to turn into the monster you’d been running from ,    you can’t say no .   you know it’s not right ,   and the more you embrace this role of harvester ,   the less like yourself you feel ,   but you’re indebited to them --- to the mafia .   you owe them .    you’ll owe them forever .    and who else would have you ?   who else would have anyone with this sort of stain working for them?
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adamwatchesmovies · 3 months
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In My Mother's Skin (2023)
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The film everyone will compare In My Mother’s Skin to is Guillermo Del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth. From the child protagonist to the wartime setting, the fairytale characters that turn out to be more sinister than at first glance, the sick mother a young girl has to care for, they have A LOT in common in content and tone. That’s pretty good company to keep.
In 1945, in the Philippines, World War II is coming to an end. The occupying Japanese soldiers know it. Though many of their neighbors haven’t been as lucky, Aldo (Arnold Reyes), his wife (Beauty Gonzalez) and their two children, Tala (Felicity Kyle Napuli) and Bayani (James Mavie Estrella) have managed to remain relatively unscathed through the conflict. As the soldiers become more nervous, the rumours that Aldo’s home contains a stash of stolen gold forces him to leave the family behind. When her mother suddenly becomes ill, Tala must take care of her. In the nearby forest, the young girl meets a fairy, who promises to help.
Though it’s being distributed by Amazon, this is a Filipino film. The folklore it's portraying will feel new to most viewers. The fairy, for instance, isn’t tiny and winged. She’s a full-grown woman wearing an elaborate dress and head piece covered in glittering jewels that evokes insect wings. Though that description doesn’t match what you had in mind when you read the synopsis, you immediately recognize her as a magical creature and Jasmine Curtis-Smith’s performance lets you know right away she’s not to be trusted. Tala knows this. Unfortunately, she has no choice but to accept the creature's help. Laura's mother is sure to die if nothing changes. Things going horribly if Tala accepts the fairy's offer is not necessarily a guarantee. Her father is gone. Tala is certain he'll return soon. You’re not so sure. There’s the housekeeper (Angeli Bayani) there to help, but a part of you wonders if she’s really committed to the family, or if she’s been sticking around because there’s nowhere else to go. Maybe she's hoping to get wind of that rumoured gold. The young girl truly feels alone.
This is a harsh film that doesn’t hold back. Sympathetic characters suddenly become villains. Lives end violently and without warning. The people who aren’t desperate are too consumed by the thought of gold to pull back their punches - children or no children. It’s hard to tell who are worse: the people or the magical creatures with a taste for human flesh. At least the fairy lets you know right away she’s sinister. The betrayals in this story cut deep and everything feels even more impactful because the people in it are so vulnerable.
The one thing holding me back from giving In My Mother’s Skin a higher grade is its similarity to Pan’s Labyrinth. If someone told me they could only watch one, there's no contest. This also means the picture is not quite as memorable, unpredictable, or impactful as it could be. I’m not saying the two films are the same. You could definitely watch both in quick succession without feeling like you’re watching the same movie again. We haven’t seen so many of these grim fairy tale stories that there isn’t room for more - in fact, “In My Mother’s Skin” proves we should be getting them more frequently - but one is just better than the other. That's more of a praise for the Del Toro picture than a criticism for In My Mother's Skin - which leans more into the horror direction and showcases a lot of gore. It's an unsettling tale that showcases a unique folklore and some strong performances from the child actors. (November 30, 2023)
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mainsevil · 1 year
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The chaperone destiny
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#The chaperone destiny free
In this fictional account of Cora and Louise’s off-and-on relationship, Laura Moriarty writes with grace and compassion about life’s infinite possibilities for change and, ultimately, happiness.”- Minneapolis Star Tribune
#The chaperone destiny free
As Cora struggles to tame Louise’s free spirit, she finds herself moving past the safety of her own personal boundaries. “Film star Louise Brooks was a legend in her time, but the real lead of The Chaperone is Cora Carlise, Brooks’ 36-year-old chaperone for her first visit to New York City in 1922. With much sharpness but great empathy, Moriarty lays bare the settled mindset of this stolid, somewhat fearful woman-and the new experiences that shake that mindset up.”- San Francisco Weekly Brooks’s may be the novel’s marquee name, but the story’s heart is Cora’s. “Throughout The Chaperone, her fourth and best novel, Laura Moriarty mines first-rate fiction from the tension between a corrupting coastal media and the ideal of heart-of-America morality. After a battle of wills, there’s a sudden change of destiny for both women, with surprising and poignant results.”- Entertainment Weekly But in Laura Moriarty’s engaging new novel The Chaperone, Brooks is just a hyper-precocious and bratty 15-year-old, and our protagonist, 36-year-old Cora Carlisle, has the not-easy mission of keeping the teenager virtuous while on a trip from their native Kansas to New York City. “With her shiny black bob and milky skin, Louise Brooks epitomized silent-film glamour. A mesmerizing take on women in this pivotal era.”- Vogue “In her new novel, The Chaperone, Laura Moriarty treats this golden age with an evocative look at the early life of silent-film icon Louise Brooks, who in 1922 leaves Wichita, Kansas, for New York City in the company of 36-year-old chaperone, Cora Carlisle. In this layered and inventive story, Moriarty raises profound questions about family, sexuality, history, and whether it is luck or will-or a sturdy combination of the two-that makes for a wonderful life.”- O, The Oprah Magazine and how their unlikely relationship changed their lives. “ The Chaperone is the enthralling story of two women. Over the course of Cora’s relationship with Louise, her eyes are opened to the promise of the twentieth century and a new understanding of the possibilities for being fully alive.ĭrawing on the rich history of the 1920s, ’30s, and beyond-from the orphan trains to Prohibition, flappers, and the onset of the Great Depression to the burgeoning movement for equal rights and new opportunities for women-Laura Moriarty’s The Chaperone illustrates how rapidly everything, from fashion and hemlines to values and attitudes, was changing at this time and what a vast difference it all made for Louise Brooks, Cora Carlisle, and others like them. And while what she finds isn’t what she anticipated, she is liberated in a way she could not have imagined. Ultimately, the five weeks they spend together will transform their lives forever.įor Cora, the city holds the promise of discovery that might answer the question at the core of her being, and even as she does her best to watch over Louise in this strange and bustling place she embarks on a mission of her own. Young Louise, already stunningly beautiful and sporting her famous black bob with blunt bangs, is known for her arrogance and her lack of respect for convention. Cora Carlisle, a complicated but traditional woman with her own reasons for making the trip, has no idea what she’s in for. Much to her annoyance, she is accompanied by a thirty-six-year-old chaperone, who is neither mother nor friend. Only a few years before becoming a famous silent-film star and an icon of her generation, a fifteen-year-old Louise Brooks leaves Wichita, Kansas, to study with the prestigious Denishawn School of Dancing in New York. Soon to be a feature film from the creators of Downton Abbey starring Elizabeth McGovern, The Chaperone is a New York Times-bestselling novel about the woman who chaperoned an irreverent Louise Brooks to New York City in the 1920s and the summer that would change them both.
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mcgnussen · 2 years
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reasons why you should respect k-mag:
jan magnussen was 19 years old when kevin was born and his mother, britt, was only 17 years old. his dad had just moved to england to race when she found out that she was pregnant. while i think his parents are wonderful, he wasn’t born into the easiest situation. he grew up with not a lot of money.  
kevin has been driving since he was 2 years old, watch this clip.  
despite his dad being away a lot, kevin really looked up to him. he has said it was tough for the whole family when his dad was left without a drive after being released from his formula 1 team and that jan was basically shunned in the racing world for a while.  
kevin was bullied by the others karting racers and especially their dads because they saw jan magnussen as a failure. while jan magnussen is pretty successful now, it took quite a while for him to be branded as a success, most people just focused on the fact he had not done well in f1.  
he struggled in school and was laughed at when his only life plans were that he wanted to win the formula 1 wdc one day.   
unfortunately, kevin has been through quite a lot at a young age. when he was 16 years old, his mum got sick with ovary cancer that spread throughout her body, and it looked like she would not survive. by some medical miracle she did. but at 17 years old, his uncle, who kevin was very close with, committed suicide. so basically in the space of less than two years, he almost lost his mum, and had to watch her be really sick, and then he lost his uncle, who had been like a second father to him, in tragic circumstances.   
throughout his life, kevin struggled getting sponsorships. despite his dad being a professional racing driver, jan was not rich enough to pay the way for his son. it became so bad that a few years before his formula 1 debut, kevin was working as a factory welder to try and make enough money to keep racing, thinking his racing career was already over. he only got sponsored by jack & jones after he had already gotten into formula 1, so he’s so far removed from being a money driver as one can be. he has publicly refused to ever pay for his formula 1 seat, he wants to be paid and chosen based on his skills.  
he was fired by mclaren after falling victim to the power battle within the team and after being promised a seat for 2015. basically most of the board wanted to retain him instead of jenson button, but the richest wanted to keep button and so in the power struggle, it was kevin who became their reserve driver. and then a year later he was fired... ON HIS BIRTHDAY!   
he had a miserable season at renault despite being thankful for them bringing him back into formula 1. he was offered a seat for the 2017 season but chose to accept an offer from haas because he wanted to get away from the toxic situation at renault, where some members of the leadership did not even want to greet him on race weekends. renault did not even publicly say they had offered him the seat instead of palmer.  
kevin came alive at haas, using a season to get used to the team, and then delivering a good 2018 season. then it went downhill from there until he ultimately lost his seat to make room for m*zepin and his daddy’s dirty money.  
he was offered a williams seat for 2021 to replace george russell. yes, you heard that right. williams wanted to kick russell out of formula 1. kevin declined since he did not want to drive another slow car and he felt like it was very sketchy of williams to get rid of george, who kevin believed to be a talented driver deserving of his seat in f1.  
he married a school teacher, an “ordinary” woman and not a supermodel, and they have a daughter, laura, who was born 7 weeks too early. she was in the nicu for quite a while, but luckily she seems to have no issues (as far as we know, and if there are some then that’s private).   
kevin has always been well liked by all the crews he has worked with - especially the renault and haas crews. he is known for being honest, down to earth and easy to work with. watch this video of him returning to haas, you can basically see their eyes light up.  
k-mag is known to be an aggressive racer, which he has confirmed he is, but he sees himself as hard but fair. he rarely complains about other drivers. he is passionate and always gives it 100%. kevin is confused by the bad boy reputation he had in f1, and revealed it was even a joke within the haas team. i think people forget kevin has basically always been racing for p8 to p10, he has never been in a truly competitive car, and so maybe he raced with his elbows out a lot because that was his only chance of getting points.     
all his teammates have called him extremely fast and adaptable in various variations. kevin does not need the car to be perfect to do well in a race.    
k-mag is without a doubt the best starter in f1. it is rare for him to lose positions on the first lap. we have seen starters where he has overtaken four or five cars within the first lap, cars that have been faster than his own at the time.  
he did quite well in his season away from formula 1, trying out different things to see what suited him. when guenther called and offered him the seat, kevin said yes purely based on his gut feeling. he knew that he was saying goodbye to a potential championship to drive a haas car that no one expected much from.    
without any physical f1 training (mainly the neck), without having ever driven the 2022 car, not even in simulator, kevin got to bahrain and managed to get a few hours in of testing before he qualified p7 (while having an issue with the car) and getting p5 in the race. 
i’m very happy to finally see he is getting the recognition he deserves. i adore that kevin seems to have freed himself from all the pressure and the bullshit he endured during his time in f1, and is now just enjoying it. he really deserves a chance at one of the big teams, i hope he gets at least one season to prove what he can really do with a car that could win. 
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fanchonmoreau · 2 years
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Do you have any recommendations for favourite female (wlw vibes especially!) opera duets?
Oh my friend you have come to the right place.
Now there are two types of female duets that are gay: duets where the mezzo is playing a male role, and duets where both characters are women but the vibes are queer as fuck.
Pants Mezzo/Soprano (or sometimes another mezzo)
'A perdona al primo affetto' from La Clemenza di Tito, Mozart. Just some of the clearest, most gorgeous music in all of opera. Elina Garanca and Barbara Bonney sing it here.
'Si, Fuggire: a noi non resta' from I Capuleti e i Montecchi, Bellini. A mezzo Romeo and a soprano Juliet! Will make you want to go out a rescue a damsel in distress. Laura Claycomb and Susanne Mentzer sing it here.
'Mir ist die Ehre widerfahren' also known as 'The Presentation of the Rose' from Der Rosenkavalier, R. Strauss. A heart-stopping and endlessly complicated (please watch this opera!) depiction of young love at first sight. Lucia Popp and Brigitte Fassbaender sing it here.
'Toi qui m'es apparue' from Cendrillon, Massenet. I have just a lot of affection for this one because it's so romantic and prince charming is played by a woman! In Cinderella! Joyce DiDonato and Alice Coote sing it here.
'Signor, oggi rinasco' from L'incoronazione di Poppea, Monteverdi. All of Poppea and Nerone's duets are amazing in this opera, but this one, when our villainous couple is celebrating the inevitability of their victory, is brash and erotic but at the same time it just melts. Anne Sofie von Otter and Sandrine Piau sing it here.
Two women with vibes
'Mira, O Norma' from Norma, Bellini. These two women, who are a man's ex and his new gf, should be rivals, but instead they promise to support each other and Adalgisa, the new gf, says she'll dump the guy and stay with Norma instead. Interesting. Montserrat Caballe and Shirley Verrett sing it here.
'Sull'aria' from Le Nozze di Figaro, Mozart. Probably one of the most famous on this list, and rightly so in my book. Mozart at his most transcendent, and all that's happening is that the Countess is dictating a prank note to her servant Susanna. I have always thought the care Mozart puts into their harmonies indicates a close bond between them. Lisette Oropesa and Nadine Sierra sing it here.
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fratboykate · 2 years
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Looks like Tumblr keeps eating my ask so I’ll take that as the universe saying my other fic sucks lol. On to the next! You put them moving in together after 6 months in your forks fic so they’re hitting milestones at a breakneck speed. Here we go, first kiss!
--
It happens on the New Year. Clint and Laura told her repeatedly she was more than welcome to stay with them but she declined. Her mom’s first court appearance is set for the day after Christmas and despite everything, Kate wants to be there for her. A text comes through when she’s just getting home.
‘You promised me drinks, Kate Bishop.’
‘How’d u know I was back?’
‘I am a Spy.’
‘Should I be worried? Am I ur nxt assignment?’
‘Haha. You think I would make appointment to kill? Also poison is for cowards. I would use gun. You would be dead now if I wanted it so.’
Kate doesn’t want to examine how her life got to the point where that was both a turn on and a comfort to read. Another text comes through.
‘This Christmas market you spoke of where can I find it?’
Yelena wasn’t joking about hitting all the tourist traps. Rockefeller was out thanks to Kate’s lumberjack moment but she’d done the statue and the empire state. Kate agreed to the tour guide role, promising drinks and a trip to the market. They see each other every day after, Kate introducing Yelena to more of the city. The trip to Katz Deli followed by Magnolia’s bakery is particularly popular with Yelena but a hole in the wall pizzeria has her perfectly happy as do street meats from vendors in between stops at the Met and the Museum of Natural History. It doesn’t take long to realize food is the way to impressing Yelena and Kate pulls out all the stops to do just that.
They get shawarma at three separate places all claiming to be the destination of the Avengers after the battle of New York. Kate listens to childhood stories of two kids who would grow up to be two of the deadliest women in the world. Smiles at the thought of the woman in front of her, young and lost, whistling knowing she would be found by her big sister.
They agree to watch the ball drop together and it takes a while but Kate finally convinces Yelena not to do that in person. The logistics of it make it far too much of a hassle especially when it’s visible from her rooftop where they’d have easy access to toilets, heat, food and drinks.
Yelena carries the tv up there and rigs it to get cable. Kate refuses to help but watches her lug everything up with no effort. There's a lot of strength in that little body and Kate feels warmer just watching her.
“We have phones that work just as well, Yelena.”
“Not as well, Kate. Bigger screen, all the channels. I don’t want to miss any good performances. This is best.”
“They’re doing the opening number of Rogers the musical at 11-“
“No, no, no! We have tickets for this, I want to be unprepared. It’s going to be hilarious, I can’t wait.”
“Please don’t laugh the whole time, they’ll kick us out.”
Yelena laughs, setting up a couple lawn chairs in front of the TV.
“So funny, Kate Bishop. Kick me out? They do not have enough security in all of Broadway for that. You are hilarious.”
Kate sighs but lets it go. Whatever Yelena gets her into she’s sure they’ll handle it. She brings over a couple blankets and the cooler of drinks then she heads back for the pizzas Yelena brought with her and they settle in to watch ring in the new year.
--
Tag!
I left the kiss up to you. Mostly cuz I can't decide if they also sleep together that night so you decide lol. Merry Christmas!
Not "breakneck speed"! They're just useless U-Haul gays. 6 months is taking it slow by gay standards lol :)
Let's do it. First kiss(es)!
//
11:50
Yelena had already told Kate the story of her and Natasha, their childhood in Ohio with Alexei and Melina, her life in the Red Room, and everything after it.
"I read file but it is not the same. You tell me the Kate Bishop story in Kate Bishop's words."
"You already know all the spoilers."
"I like movies I know the endings of. Predictable. I can tell what's coming. Like well thought out attack."
"Of course you'd say that."
"What?!"
"Nothing. It's just a very...Yelena thing to say."
"I do not like how you say that. 'Yelena thing to say.'"
Kate looks at her and smiles then looks at the countdown on TV. Seven minutes to midnight.
The dreaded "Midnight Kiss" tradition popped into her head about thirty seconds ago and it's started to make her toes tingle. The sensation has been slowly crawling up her body since. What happens at midnight? Are they going to do the awkward hug thing? The cheek kiss thing? What if Yelena leans in to kiss her? What if she kisses Yelena and gets rejected? What if? What if? What if?
"...ishop? Kate Bishop? If I am that boring that you tune my voice out you should just say so."
"No. No! Sorry. No. Not you. I was just...yeah. Not you. Sorry. What were you saying?"
"That your mother paid me a lot of money to kill you too and maybe I should have done it."
"Very funny."
Kate looks at the clock.
11:55
Kate can't sit anymore. She grabs her beer and stands awkwardly stiff in front of the chair she was just sitting on. She doesn't move, doesn't go anywhere, she just...hovers in front of it.
"Was the chair not to your liking?"
"Chair's fine. Chair's great. Chair's not a problem."
Yelena takes a beat and chortles.
"You are nervous, Kate Bishop."
"I am not nervous. Why would I be nervous? I don't have a single thing to be nervous about."
"I was trained to read body language at twelve." Yelena allows the words to hang in the air. "You are nervous."
"You see this scar right here? Face first into a giant rock in Central Park because I still couldn't even ride my bike properly at twelve. Rub it in."
11:56
Yelena laughs quietly, grabs her vodka rocks, and stands next to the still perfectly immobile Kate. Yelena kills her drink and pours another. She wouldn't say she's drunk but she's not sober either.
"Do you want another American Piss Water bottle?"
Kate shakes her head, pretending she doesn't find the thing endearing.
"Stop calling it that."
"Looks like piss, tastes like piss, and not a real beer. American Piss Water is what I will call it. Come to Russia one day. We will have a real beer together. Do you want another then?"
"I will take another regular American beer, yes."
Yelena grabs one of the bottles she had lugged up earlier and passes it to Kate.
"One American Piss Water for Kate Bishop."
11:57
Kate stands in silence looking out at the sea of people beneath them. She can feel Yelena's eyes scanning her skin.
"What does Kate Bishop think of when she stands in silence?"
"Lots of things."
"Obviously I asked because I want to know what those things are so, tell me."
Kate feels the pit of her stomach light up ablaze. There was something inherently sensual about the way Yelena didn't ask but instructed her instead. Would she ever admit that out loud? Only time would tell.
"I told you. Lots of things."
11:58
But the time wasn't now. Right now she was a bit drunk, quite anxious, and a lot bratty.
"Is one of those things if I will kiss you when midnight happens?" Kate clears her throat trying to hide the fact that she half choked on air. "Because if so, the answer is yes." Yelena pauses. "Unless you do not wish me to."
"NO! No! Do wish! Totally wish!" Kate realizes that was much too eager and reels it back. "Like...if you want...or whatever. Wasn't even thinking about it y'know. It's..."
Kate gets cut off by Yelena's lips on hers. Kate's hands fly to the side of Yelena's face, her cold beer pressing against the older woman's cheek. Yelena's hand snakes behind Kate's neck pulling her impossibly close. Their tongues meet for a brief moment. Kate feels Yelena's teeth graze her bottom lip in a soft but possessive pull. But before Kate knows it, it's all over. It feels like a million things happened, but the kiss lasted five seconds. If that.
11:59
Yelena pulls away and takes a nonchalant sip of her vodka as if absolutely nothing major had just transpired. Kate turns to look at the clock on the TV. The minute countdown has started.
"It's not midnight."
"Sometimes you just have to...not talk."
"Ah. Yeah. Heard that before."
They stand ungracefully as the clock counts down.
"That was...nice." Kate tries to fill the dead air as the screams of the crowd below chanting down from thirty threaten to drown her out.
"You have soft lips." Yelena screams above the people. "And you smell good. Like peaches."
"Thank you! I know right? It's this like, exfoliating thing my mom got me. You're only supposed to use it three times a week but I said 'screw it' and I've been using it every day and it's been so..."
Yelena groans, rolls her eyes, and steps forward to close the distance between them. Her lips are on Kate's with eight seconds to spare.
This time they kiss in earnest. This time they pour everything - all - into it. It's not a "shut up" kiss. Well, it's not just a "shut up" kiss. It's both of them letting out a sigh of relief neither of them knew they'd been holding in for years. It's both of them finding home for the first time.
The ball drop comes and goes by the time they finally decide they need air.
"Is that like...a Russian thing? The tongue thing you did?"
Yelena shrugs, cocky smile painted on her face.
"Maybe."
"I shouldn't have said anything."
"You like how I kiss. It is good. I welcome the feedback."
"Whatever."
Kate smiles and leans in to steal another kiss, seemingly not able to get enough of Yelena's lips. When she pulls away Yelena takes in her face and raises a single brow. It's clear she's quite proud of herself.
"I was right."
"Right about what?"
"You wanting me to kiss you at midnight."
Kate exhales dramatically.
"What? You're going to tell me they taught you how to read minds when you were fifteen?"
"No. But they did teach how to study targets. I paid extra close attention to your file."
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